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Bad Julie Ch. 01

By: LenNeal



"Construction sucks," Kurt said out loud. 

Taking a deep breath after the call with the building department, he pulled into a fast food place's parking lot and called the customer from his truck. He had to tell them the inspection of their deck footings was rescheduled, and that the project was stalled until the city got out to the site. The lady of the house was, to put it mildly, displeased, and yelled at him, and all he could do was tell her it wasn't anything to do with him. 



He thought, "Maybe you should have scheduled more than three weeks in advance of your daughter's backyard wedding, stupid." People just didn't plan. 



Now his day was wasted. He made another call, thinking he could drive out to another site and do some prep work, but the family wasn't home, or at least wasn't answering their phone. It wasn't even noon. 

Kurt looked around the parking lot, racking his brain, and finally called his buddy with a machine shop; he had a couple of tool repairs to do, things that had been pushed to the back burner, and he could use his buddy's array of specialty machines to fix a few things. The guy answered his phone, and told Kurt he could come by after three, when the shop wound down. So Kurt had three hours or so to kill. 



He could eat, he supposed; but he looked at the gaudy sign hovering over his truck and decided not to eat a pile of junk food; since the divorce he'd been a pretty good boy, eating healthier and all that, and with the physical labor of deck building he was probably in the best shape of his life. Idly, he looked in the rear view mirror and looked at his face, that always had a somewhat battered look that outdoor people get, and the jagged nose that had just been broken too many times. Old. He was getting old, and the end of hard muscle work was coming soon. It was on its way.



He heard a screaming sound from outside the truck, and turned the key to buzz the window down. Popping his head out he found he'd parked next to a chain link fence, and on the other side was a city pool. The place with the crabby lady's deck was a fairly uppity suburb, and the pool had slides and all kinds of colorful play equipment mounted around. He watched the splashing crowd for a bit, initially killing time watching the kids, thinking of the pool where he'd grown up, which had been a tomb-like rectangular hole without even a diving board. 



Then he was able to pick out some girls and women, and he started blandly watching some of them, the upper-class housewives and college girls home for the season. Some of the moms were fine, very fine indeed. He thought about the last time he'd gotten laid, and figured it had to be almost a year. 



"I should take some classes or something," he said out loud. Yeah, go to the tech college and take a few classes for working Spanish or something useful to him. It might be a good place to meet some quality women, too, people with some ambition and a head on their shoulders. 



He missed being married. 



"Fuck this," he said, again out loud, and decided to get out of the 'burb and maybe have a few beers at his neighborhood bar, back in his real life. The hell with it. 

After the usual pointless, frustrating drive, Kurt walked into his local watering hole and was surprised to see a young woman in the place talking to Tommy, the old barkeep and owner. Just the presence of anyone under the age of forty in the place was unusual, and the chick was not only young but decent-looking. 

"She's got to be someone's relative," Kurt thought. "Got to be."

She was being bitchy. No, not exactly bitchy; she was angry, with a furious, frustrated behavior that young people get. He wondered how old she was. She looked really young, but he thought she had to be twenty-one, at least: she was drinking what looked like a beer. He watched her with his peripheral vision as he passed her, walking to a stool a reasonable distance away.

As he went by she made a face that made him wonder what her mother looked like; women often ended up resembling their mothers, from body language and facial expressions. She pushed out her chin, and her mouth seemed puffed out, but then she opened her lips and a gleam of metal revealed braces. Braces! How old (or young) was the girl? She was thin, but genetically, not workout thin or even particularly muscular or toned, she was just young and kind of skinny. 

Her smallish, finely shaped head topped a long torso with a sinuous waist, with nice, smooth legs. Her pouting face was well-featured, with a turned-up nose and high cheekbones, and with heavy eyeliner and eyelash stuff her eyes looked huge. A long, brunette braid came down along her shoulder, and when she turned slightly another of the same revealed itself on the other side; her hair was in pigtails. 



Her clothing was slightly down-market knockoffs of casual stylish stuff: a fake military cap with false pockets on the sides in olive drab, a black T-shirt with some white splattered logo in graffiti letters, and frayed jean shorts that managed to reveal the bottom of her ass cheeks. Kurt took a decently long look at that. Her shoes, canvas sneakers, looked like a tie-dye version of Keds or some such. She was young and kind of cute, and of more than average height. 



He sat down a few spots away from her at the bar, and noted she was drinking a short draft beer of indifferent quality. She talked animatedly, and for a while he concentrated on the TV without really listening, instead catching the cadences of her voice. She was complaining about something, or perhaps everything, to the aged bartender. He caught the words 'mother' and 'school' in the rapid rapping of her monologue, which was only occasionally interrupted by placating comments from the barkeep. At a juncture during which the barkeep had to excuse himself to serve an elderly drunk at the end corner of the bar, Kurt looked her over again out of the corner of his eye: her leg was bouncing up and down, and her chin, a pointy child-sized chin, poked out pugnaciously as her mouth worked. It looked like she was grinding her teeth. He decided to get himself into the conversation through the barkeep.



"Hey Tommy, is this your daughter?" he asked as the old man wandered back by on his way to more harangue. 

Tommy the barkeep recoiled as if poked with a pin and chuckled, an almost cartoonish chuckle, and responded, "Hell no! I ain't layin no claim to this here girl! My daughter!" He winked and continued loudly, "Shit, if this was my daughter I'd put her over my knee and spank some sense into her!" He laughed a coarse but good natured, rough-but-decent laugh. 

The girl puffed up and put her hands on her hips, arching her back and thrusting a pair of small, high-set breasts into the taut fabric of the T-shirt. "HEY!" she shouted, "What was that!?" 



Tommy threw his head back and laughed loudly. He continued, "Yeah, her mother don't spank her enough, that's her problem! No discipline!" He winked again, and the girl plopped her lower jaw open in an exaggerated expression of angry astonishment. 

She half shouted, "Uncle Tommy! I'm telling Mom on you!" 

Tommy turned back and revealed a fact: "Nah, this's my niece, my sister's youngest." He rushed off to refill an elderly day-drinker's gin and tonic. 

The girl turned towards the end of the bar, and faced Kurt in a posture of dramatic outrage, waiting for Tommy to come back down and face the music. When Tommy returned she threw her mouth open. 

"What's this about spanking me?!" 

Tommy folded over laughing. She continued, wagging her finger, "You better watch it, I'll spank YOU!" 

Tommy made an comedic, anticipatory face, and Kurt laughed. The girl doubled her faux anger and made a big face at Kurt; and he was in the conversation. 

The girl continued her rant while Tommy washed glasses and nodded his head, mumbling from time to time. Finally, he excused himself to go in the cooler for a restock, and the girl had to sit by herself, leg bobbing in agitation, sipping her beer. Kurt decided to work a little harder at socializing and got up to go to the bathroom, passing behind the girl as he walked.



She was wearing a small pushup bra, and the clasps and sliders made bumps on the tightly-fitting shirt. Her hair was an odd reddish color, probably dyed, and she had a nice, firm, young ass. Not large, but nice, about the size of his palms. "Sweet," he thought. When he headed back to his stool (after washing his hands and dawdling a little) Tommy had returned with boxes of bottles, so he stopped next to the girl and asked Tommy, in that unimportant bar-talk way, "This is your niece? I don't see a resemblance, she's way too good looking to be related to you." 

Tommy laughed, and the girl turned around and looked at Kurt's face, then for an instant dragged her glance down the front of his body to his crotch before looking away. She smiled ever-so-briefly, then said, "Tommy's my uncle, aren't you, Tommy?" 

The barkeep inclined his head and said, "Oh yeah, Julie. This here's Kurt." 



Kurt lifted his bottle of beer and said, "Hello." 

Julie turned around again, mildly interested but standoffish, and said, with little social skill, "Hey." 



He decided to push it. "You here from school or something? Summer break?"



She hesitated and made a face (a face that said, "Why am I having to talk about this shit again?") and said, "Yes." 



For the next few minutes Kurt stood nearby and made awkward small talk, and in the course of the interaction made a few observations, not least of which was that the girl was used to deflecting crude and clumsy come-ons from old, drunk men in bars. She'd probably spent a lot of time at family places, grown up in them, and had gotten good at a surface, good-natured shove-off for drunk men, starting at an early age. It was kind of funny, but only mildly interesting, and after some more dumb chat Kurt sat back down. 



It didn't take long before Julie got bored and pulled out her phone. She texted a few things, mouthed the word "Shit," and snapped the thing shut. She looked frustrated and angry. When Tommy came back by she flagged him over and said, "Uncle Tommy, loan me your car."

The old man jumped and automatically said, "No! Hell no!" and then, "What for?" The girl leaned on the bar and shoved her ass back, revealing the lower portion of her tight set of cheeks, extended her arm, and wheedled, "Pleeease? I gotta go see my friend!" 

Tommy shook his head emphatically and stated firmly, "No way. No way you driving my Cadillac. Not on your life."



Julie huffed and said, "Well, what am I going to do?" and followed that with a kid-like exhalation: "AHHHHH!" 



Tommy asked her, "Well, where do you need to go, little girl?" She told him, an address across town. Tommy thought for a minute, then said, "Get a ride from somebody. You got friends. Call them."



Julie said, "Nobody's answering their phones! My one friend doesn't come back until tomorrow, and Ginny doesn't get off work until 2 tonight! I can't get a ride! Pleease? Can I have your car? Just for a little while?" 

Tommy stood up as straight as he could and said bluntly, "NO." 

Julie made another angry face and pushed her glass on the rail, which Tommy refilled. "Here you go, young lady!" She grimaced and drank it in two gulps.



Kurt decided to leave. He pushed his glass in and said, "Gotta go. See you, Tommy." He turned to the girl and said, "Nice to meet you, have a good time on your break."



Tommy stopped him. "Hey, Kurt, where you headed?" 



Kurt thought about his day, his boring, frustrated day, and made a simple decision: he named a supply store near the address Julie had mentioned. 

Tommy raised his eyebrows and looked at the girl. "You need to go to your friend's house, ask Kurt to take you. He's headed that way. You got room in your truck, ain't you?" the last directed back at Kurt. 

Kurt shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay by me." He turned to Julie and continued, "If you really need a ride, come on." He stood, waiting.



The girl was thinking and making faces. 

She listened as Tommy said, "Go on, it's Kurt. Known him for years. He ain't gonna kill you or nothing, go get your ride." 

Julie bit her lip, thought about it for a moment, then made her decision and stood up. "Okay." She looked square at Kurt, scanning him up and down, far too carefully. She made a sideways, grinning face and said, "Let's go." 

Kurt looked at her tits and turned to leave, dropping the words, "Come on," as he walked to the door.

Bad Julie Ch. 02



Kurt held the door for her when they exited, and when they got to the truck he moved crap off the seat so she could sit decently. He kept his mouth shut and got in, and drove carefully out of the parking lot. 

Julie said, in a stilted, graceless, and somewhat nasty way, "So what are you doing sitting in a bar in the middle of the day? You retired or something?" 

Kurt waited a moment before answering, then glanced down at her legs. She lifted them up and propped her tennis shoes on the dashboard of the truck. He said, "No, I got some stuff to do at my buddy's shop, and I have to wait until three to do it, so I stopped in to say 'Hi' to Tommy. And get your feet off the dashboard." She looked over in angry disbelief, then dramatically folded her legs down, spreading her thighs open when she did. He watched out of the corner of his eye. He continued, "So what's at your friends? Some kind of teenage kegger or something?"

"No," she said, and let it sit like an empty bucket. She suddenly reached out and grabbed his phone, which was sitting on the dashboard, flipped it open, and started pushing buttons. 

Kurt got more than a little pissed off and reached for it. The little niece held it away from him and kept looking through it. He said, "What the fuck are you doing? Put that back."

She smirked and said, "Why? Got some dirty pictures in here? Huh?" 

Kurt got angry, and while he looked at her he realized the horrible little girl was doing it on purpose. "No, but that's got all my business numbers in it and that's none of your god damn concern, little lady." 

She snapped it shut and flung it onto the dashboard; he grabbed it and stuffed it in a seat pocket, away from her. She produced her own keyboard type thing and texted some more, made a face and thrust it in her front pocket, then extended her arm out the window to catch the wind. 

As he drove along Kurt stole a couple of glances over at the girl's body, reflecting on her appearance. She wasn't bad at all. She had a rotten personality, the little shit, but for looks, she wasn't less than pretty. During one of the glances she caught him looking and made a face, but then purposefully looked out the window at nothing and carelessly rubbed her crotch. The gesture surprised him, and made him reflect in a somewhat painful manner on the extended dry spell he seemed to be having lately. Some sex would be nice, he thought, and allowed himself a short feeling of desire.

They drove on for a while, silent. Kurt tried not to look at the Julie girl, but a couple of times he would have sworn she looked over at him. "I'm hallucinating," he thought. Then they got near the supplier he didn't need to go to. 

"My friends' place is right up here," she said.

He told her, "I know."

She tilted her head around: "Well, well, genius," the gesture said. 

In a minute or so they pulled up on the street in front of a yellow ranch house. She pointed a long finger and said, "Pull in the driveway. Their neighbors are all weird and watch cars parked in the street." He didn't move. "Pull in the driveway," she repeated, and he shook his head and did it. She popped out and slammed the door, way too hard, and leaned in the window. "Come on in," she said. 

He looked at her in disbelief. "What?" 

She repeated the order: "Come on in!" and waggled her body in a comically sexual way. She said, in a mocking, singsong, little-girl voice, "There might be molesters! Won't you look for me?" 

Kurt thought, long and hard; she flounced up the walk, swaying her hips and tight little ass, and when she got to the front door, turned and looked at him, turning her body to poke her little tits out. She reached up over the door frame, removed a key, and opened the front door. 

"This is a terrible, terrible, bad idea," he said out loud, and hopped out of the truck and walked to the house. 

The front door entered into the living room, which was full of nondescript furniture and a very, actually absurdly, large flat screen TV. A covered bird cage hung in one corner, dangling from a hook in the ceiling. He looked down and saw Julie's hat on the floor, tossed carelessly. He carefully walked on the pale carpet, searching for the girl. He heard a call from a hallway leading off the living room, so he followed the voice; he walked up a short passageway, into a kitchen. That room was outfitted with pale cabinets, a tacky island-type thing with pots and pans hanging over it, and a huge set of patio doors that opened onto a deck with an above-ground pool. 

Kurt started to ask, "This is your friend's house-" but stopped in mid-sentence. 

Julie was bent over the counter rolling a joint. A cabinet door was open and a little sugar bowl was on the counter. He watched while she finished, and then watched some more while she took a tiny lighter out of the bowl and fired up. She took a huge, deep hit, then turned, smiled, and extended it out to him. 

Kurt hesitated, then took it, and took a hit himself. They handed the joint back and forth twice, then Julie killed it and placed it back in the sugar bowl, and returned the stash to the cabinet. 

She smirked, swayed, and said, "So what are we going to do now?"

She placed her hands on the counter top behind her and faced him, shoving her pelvis into the room and swaying forward and backward, rocking. Tilting her head, she regarded him and openly looked him up and down, delaying at his crotch before locking eyes with him. 

"What are you gonna do today?" she asked, but it wasn't really a question; it was more of a snarling challenge. 

He thought, "What a piece of work," and thought briefly about leaving, but then moved closer to the lithe, rocking body. Her pigtails gleamed in the midday light. When he was right on top of her, she turned the little chin up and made a defiant, nasty face. They stood in silence for a moment, then he rocked forward and she met his body with a shove of her crotch, spreading her legs slightly to allow him to get closer. 

"Well?" she demanded, smirking.

He put a hand on her side and physically moved her. She stumbled and her eyes flashed in anger, then excitement. She apparently liked being furious. He kept the one hand on her side, rubbing down to the protruding hip and slipping up her cheap shirt, then grabbed her chin and roughly rotated her whole head, looking at her while she got obviously worked up. 

The girl, Julie, said crudely, with a savage tone, "What do you like to do to the little girls? Huh?" She shoved against him and he shoved back, pinning her against the counter; her breathing increased. Moving her lips closer, she whispered, "I bet guys like you are all closet bitches, I bet you like to get little girls like me and..." she stopped to put her hands against his chest and tried to shove him, and then continued, " ...fuck us in the ass." 

She bounced against him and he let her win for a minute, then moved his hand from her face to her breasts, pawing them. She shoved again. 

"Huh? That right? You like to flip us over and fuck our little asses? Make you feel like a man?" 

Kurt waited, not answering, as she started to really fight and wrestle, small, young breasts, tits, heaving and rolling as he pinned her. She got flushed in the face and clawed his ribcage with one hand, balancing with the other. He went for her wrist and she wriggled, and he went for it again, and then they were really fighting, with her trying to throw him off balance. 

He started using more power and she fought harder, hissing, "Gonna fuck my ass? Fucker! Bet you think you're big!" 

He managed to grasp a slippery arm and got some control, and when she shifted to one foot he had her: he whirled her around, back to him, and pushed her against the rounded edge of the counter. She kept fighting as he pinned an arm behind her back and pushed his crotch and cock into the muscles of her tight, rounded ass. She made a frustrated groaning sound, tried to actually head-butt him backwards, and then he got mad, this was uncalled-for, and holding the one arm took ahold of a pigtail and slowly pulled her head back. He shoved into her and she squirmed. 

"I should tie you up and fuck you straight in the ass," he said cruelly, "spread your little ass cheeks and shove my cock up into you." 

Julie made a real effort to get away, making a weird mewling noise, and he had to work pretty hard to get on top of her. "Ram my cock right into you and come in your ass," he continued, "...won't sit down for a week." 

She ceased struggling and stayed where she was, breathing heavily and rocking her head from side to side. 

She said, "That make you hard? Beating up little girls? Is that what you like?" She turned her head and tried to make eye contact, but he wouldn't let her. "Bet you'd like to tie me up and fuck me. I bet you'd like that." 

She was right: he had an erection so hard it hurt, just that fast. He dropped his concentration for a second, not even a second, and she snatched away, whirled, and then did something he couldn't believe: she slapped him, hard, with a full arm stroke from her shoulder, like a handball player. 

When she did it her face was tightened into a mask of anticipation, hate, and arousal, and the hit made a sharp cracking sound, shockingly loud in the small kitchen. It also really hurt, and he instantly spiked into a near-rage that surprised him with it's intensity. That was it. She got what, he supposed, she actually wanted: a fight. 

He went for her for real, and she put on a good show, clawing and trying to slap him again, arms and hands like snakes darting in at his chest and face, and he had to really, really work at it, although the outcome wasn't really in doubt. She wasn't strong enough to actually fight him off. At the end of it he was breathing hard and feeling more than a little weird, they'd shoved the kitchen table halfway across the room, and he had her pinned in front of him facing away. 

Julie was heaving and shaking, making low animal groaning noises, and when he was sure he had her well enough, he lifted her off balance and pushed her towards the hallway he figured led to the bedrooms. When they got to the carpeted surface she tried to dig her feet into the floor, but he lifted her up and bounced her forward; with her arms and wrists pinned against her chest he could feel her breasts pillowing against his forearms, and when she shoved back her ass ground against his cock. He got her through the first bedroom doorway, maneuvered her in, and folded her over the bed and onto her knees, shoving against her body, grinding and feeling the lower part of her butt and the backs of her thighs. 

He looked around, briefly, and was appalled to see they were in someone's parents' bedroom. There was a wedding photograph of a middle-aged couple on a side table, and the usual tension-filled eclectic mix of male and female shit. Kurt got a good look around, thinking, but then took a long look at the girl below him, and decided to ignore his inner voice, which was saying, "This is fucked up and wrong."

He carefully let go of her hands; when she didn't try to fight again, he took the risk and placing one hand against the back of her head and neck, holding her, he grabbed the waistband of her shorts and yanked them down. They got stuck and he got brutal, and he heard a 'snap' as a button popped off. He pulled them fully off, all the way down her smooth legs, revealing her. She was wearing some kind of hip-hugging panties in a ridiculous purplish color; he pulled those off, leaving her only in the shirt. She had a pretty pussy, with reddish-brown, neatly trimmed pubic hair. He could see the slight shine of wet on the inner line. Her arms were free still, she wasn't fighting any more, and while he waited, she removed the shirt and her bra, which was some vibrant green confection. 

Holding her down with one hand, more for safety than anything, he unzipped his pants and got his shaft out; she wriggled some, but put her hands below her chest, and he put his cock head against the lips of her pussy. He rocked against her, once, twice, felt that she was completely soaking wet and sexually ready, and shoved into her body. 

Julie made a loud moaning noise and her whole body was wracked by a huge shudder. K wrapped his hand in her pigtails and pinned her head down as he pulled back, slipped in and out with the very tip, then rammed roughly into the girl's pussy. It was absolutely incredible, perfect, tight and hot and wet. He rammed her several more times, getting a feel, then just fucked her. 

Julie moaned, and mewled, and squirmed, muttering dirty words and grabbing at the bed covers.



Bad Julie Ch. 03



Kurt slid in and out for a bit, then almost came, something he flat didn't want to do yet; it was just too good. He decided to make it last longer than a three-minute quickie, and buried his cock into her and rested, pressed against Julie's ass. She didn't like that. She shoved back against him, trying to get purchase with her knees, but he had her down and secured. She couldn't do anything but squirm.

She rammed her face into the bed and whimpered, "Fuck!" She started to really shove back against him, trying to bump him backward, but she didn't have any leverage: her hands clawed at the bedclothes with no purchase, and all that happened was she ripped the covers all apart. 

Kurt waited, watching and holding her body down while she started breathing heavily and writhing, tangling up the sheets. He kept pressure on her ass, thrusting slightly with his cock in her tight, oh-so-tight pussy, enjoying the situation quite a bit. He bent over her body, near her head, and whispered a vile word in her ear. 

Julie made a wordless exclamation and flipped her head back, turning her head around, trying to see him.

Kurt waited for just a very brief tick, then pulled back and almost all the way out. She tried to move her body back, and almost lifted off the bed, and he paused for just a second, then pounded into her as hard as he could, moving the bed at least six inches. Julie made a high-pitched shrieking outburst, then swore. He did it several more times, fucking into her pussy as hard as he could as she gasped and cried. 

She was soaking wet, he could feel it and see it, but she was fighting anyway.

She shouted "Bastard!" and got a foot squarely on the floor and managed to shove one side up while he was inside her. 

He let her heave and struggle for a minute, then suddenly yanked out, grabbed her legs and physically picked her lower body up, then flipped her over to face him. She kicked out and he had to wrestle her legs down, then spread them apart, exposing her pussy. He yanked her whole body against him again, rubbing his cock against her pussy lips. She swore and fought, cursing him out and whimpering. She arched her back, thrusting tight little breasts and hard little nipples.

Kurt took the chance and let go of her legs, moved his hands to her tits, and roughly cupped, squeezed, and flicked her breasts. She groaned loudly and covered his hands with hers, rubbing against his cock and trying to position for him to get inside her again. 

He bent back and went for it, slipping easily inside and shoving roughly. She slammed her head back and clasped her legs around his ass, kicking his body into hers. He got almost light-headed from the feeling, and decided to try something, a little ... dialogue? 

He leaned down over her and quietly snarled, "You cheap little fucking bitch." 

Her eyes snapped open, fully, in a blast of anger and hate; he fucked into her and did it again: "Little whore!" 

She clawed at his chest and slammed her pelvis against him, exhaling loudly. Then he called her a 'cunt' and she got really mad, tried to slap him, and he had to pin her arm and head down while they fucked. She got her other hand free and dug sharp fingernails into his chest, and that hurt like hell; he did the only thing he could do and slammed into her as hard as he could, fucking her roughly, brutally, slamming her slight body and spreading her thighs apart each time he pounded inside her. 

She squealed and fought and moaned and then came.

She came hard, her eyes rolling around in her head and her legs jerking violently. Kurt tried to extract her hand from his chest and couldn't, so he slapped at her hand. It had no effect, so he figured in his head, "Why not?"

He fucked into Julie a few more times, forcing sexual sounds from her, then, finally and excruciatingly felt his cock spasm. He slipped out of her when it was unstoppable no matter what, rubbed the base against her slick lips, and came on her body.

He ejaculated hard, the feeling on the brink of pain it was so muscular, and the come flipped up her belly in a long ribbon, a small collection of droplets making it all the way to her face. 

She finally let go of his chest, her fingernails stained with blood, and grabbed his cock, stroking, milking out the last of him and rubbing the semen into her hand, muttering under her breath and swearing. 

He bent over her, and noted a small puddle of come in the cleft of her breasts. Finally, he let go of her arm and head, and she laid back, tired out from the efforts. Julie snapped out "Fuck," and then relaxed. After a minute or so she said, "Get out." 

Kurt pulled his pants up, turned, and walked out. He didn't look back. He got in the truck and pulled away, feeling worn out and dazed; his chest was bleeding pretty badly from where she'd dug her sharp little nails into him. 

"Crazy little bitch," he thought to himself, rotating his arm and feeling the pain in the chest muscle. She'd gotten him good. When he was halfway to the supplier he didn't need to go to, which he'd headed for without really thinking, his phone buzzed, and he flipped it open; it was a text from an unknown number with an attachment. When he opened it he almost drove off the road: it was Julie. 

"How did she get my number?" he thought, then remembered her snatching his phone and fooling with her own device. She must have entered his number in her phone, the little shit! And to top that, she'd sent him a picture. It was a phone capture of herself, set to crop her face, and it was unmistakably her naked body, legs spread, one hand over her pussy, the other rubbing his come on her belly and breasts. 

He pulled over and stared at the image in shock. The text said, "U WANT SUM MOR?" He slammed his back into the truck seat and laughed out loud at himself when he realized that, well, yeah, he kinda did.