Between Two Worlds

Two sides of town. Two different worlds. A football pitch between them. Sophie Crawford's got everything. Except what she really needs.

***

The football pitch sat between two halves of Millbridge. Like a DMZ. South side: posh farmhouses. Luxury SUVs on gravel drives. North side: Heathfield Estate. Grey towers. Boarded shopfronts with peeling signs.

Saturday mornings brought them together. Southern mums in designer wellies. Waxed jackets. Sipping from insulated flask cups. Northern dads in whatever kept the rain off. Muttering 'blind cunt' when the ref made a call.

Sophie Crawford stood apart. Silk scarf at her throat. Forty-five. Slim. Keeping it together with a gym membership that cost more than her energy bill after the latest hike. Wool skirt despite the mud. Sheer black tights, with a back seam running down the back, clinging to her legs. Only a hint that under her Home Counties finish lurked something darker. Hungrier. Kinkier.

Marriage to Richard abd fifteen years of separate beds. Separate lives. He was in Singapore again. She'd stopped asking. Their son Thomas played centre forward. Private school precision setting him apart from the estate kids with their gypsy shaven style haircuts and sports direct trainers.

Jack Mercer leaned against his electric scooter. Eighteen almost nineteen. A scar on his chin and scars on his knuckles from fights behind the estate's burned-out community centre. Magistrate gave him his last warning after the summer riots, the next stop: proper prison. Not the young offenders' that had been his education.

He was not here for the match. Cal had messaged. He needed someone for a pickup. Jack needed the money as his landlord was threatening eviction for his bedsit rent that he couldn't afford.

Cal's Golf GTI screeched into the car park. Bass thumping some drill track that made the Southern mums purse their lips. At twenty-two, Cal was the estate's badboy. Still lived with his mum but wore designer tracksuits that cost more than most people's monthly wage.

'Dickhead,' Cal shouted. Slapping Jack's shoulder hard enough to bruise.

From the passenger side, Chloe climbed out. Platinum hair. Tattooed to cartoonish proportions. Neck bruised in ways she displayed like jewellery. Trainee at the hairdressers salon where she collected village secrets from the local busy bodies.

'Fucking freezing,' she whined. Pressing against Cal. Eyes catching Jack's for a second too long. They'd fucked last month when Cal was inside for the weekend. Both pretended it hadn't happened.

'Got something for you,' Cal said quietly. Slipping Jack a package wrapped in cling film and tape. 'Thirty quid. Prices gone up with everything else, innit.'

Jack's eyes drifted across the pitch. Settling on Sophie. Something in her rigid posture reminded him of his primary school teacher. Her skirt was short and she was showing off a decent set of pins for someone old enough to be his mother.

Sophie felt her vape in her pocket. She needed it badly and needed to escape Amanda Fitzsimmons droning on about the charity committee and who'd bring the fucking salmon quiche.

'Just going to check on Thomas,' she lied. Already walking away. Stumbling slightly but catching herself. She headed for the equipment shed behind the pitch. Once for groundskeeping. Now just a spot to hide and vape.

Chloe watched her go. 'Who's that?'

Cal followed her gaze. 'Some posh bird from the big houses. Look at those fucking silly wellies. What a stuck up cow.'

'Why you looking?' Chloe dug nails into his arm.

'Just looking.'

Chloe's eyes narrowed. 'Need to piss. Back in a sec.'

'Whatever,' Cal shrugged. Turning to Jack. 'Right, here's the deal...'

---

Sophie stood behind the shed. Mud sucking at her boots. She pulled out her sleek vape. Dropped it in a puddle. 'Fuck.'

'Bit far from the good life, aren't you?'

She jumped. A young man watching. Hard face. Harder eyes.

'Excuse me?' Voice tight with surprise.

He moved closer. Handing back her vape. Mud-smeared. Worn hoodie. Face that had seen trouble.

'Said you're slumming it. Behind the shed.'

She took the vape. Their fingers touched. 'Needed a break.'

'From what? The parent WhatsApp group planning the next charity gig?'

His directness caught her off guard. 'I...' No comeback ready.

His eyes moved over her. No pretending not to look. Not contempt. Hunger.

'What you vaping?' He pulled out his own. Cheaper. 'Something posh?'

'Juul,' she answered. Hating herself for responding.

'I'm Jack,' he said. No surname offered.

'Sophie,' she replied. No KC after it. None of that mattered here.

'So what's the escape from, Sophie?' Northern accent. Hard edges. 'Them boring as fuck conversations?'

She should've been offended. Should've walked away. Instead, she smiled. 'They're discussing which organic caterer to use for the school fundraiser.'

'Sounds riveting,' he said. Teeth not straightened by expensive orthodontics.

Silence fell. She noticed the mud caked on her Wellington boots.

'Your kid playing?' he asked. Nodding toward the pitch.

'Number seven.'

'The one trying all them tricks? Bit of a show-off.'

Sophie bristled. 'Thomas is actually quite good.'

'I used to play. Got kicked out of the academy.'

'Why?'

'Take a guess.' Challenge in his voice.

She inhaled deeply. Twenty-six years between them. 'You're not here for the football,' she observed.

'Nah. Meeting someone.' His eyes moved over her legs. 'Cold for that skirt. Good legs though...'

The directness made her flush. No one spoke to her like this. Not in her world. 'I'm fine,' she said. Voice clipped.

Jack grinned. Transformed his face into something dangerous. 'Yeah, you are.'

The wind caught her scarf. Pulled loose. Before she fixed it, his hand was there. Fingers on her neck. Adjusting the silk.

'Nice,' he said. Voice dropping. 'Real silk?'

He stood too close. She felt his breath. Smelled mint vape.

'Yes,' she answered. Not stepping back.

His fingers lingered on her throat. 'Soft.' Then, 'Would make a good blindfold.'

Their eyes locked. His hand stayed on her neck. She didn't ask him to move it.

A cheer from the pitch. He stepped back.

'Your kid scored.'

Sophie glanced toward the field. I should go back. Be the supportive mother. Play her part... 'Nice to meet you Jack.' Winced at how formal it sounded.

'Yeah,' Jack nodded. Something knowing in his eyes. 'Back to reality eh.'

The way he said it made her life sound like something artificial.

'I'll be here next Saturday,' he said. Not a question. A statement. She nodded and walked back. Felt his eyes following her. Mud sucking at her boots. The strangest part wasn't how he looked at her...

---

Sophie slipped away at half-time. Hadn't planned to. Just found herself walking back to the shed.

Jack was waiting, vape in hand, scrolling on his cracked phone. Like he knew she'd come back.

'Knew you'd be back,' he said, pocketing his phone.

Sophie kept her distance, pulling off her leather gloves. 'I needed some air.'

'Bollocks.'

She met his eyes. 'Fine. No fucking clue what I'm doing here.'

Jack moved closer. 'Yeah, you do. Women like you always know. Too shit-scared to say it.'

His bluntness dried her mouth. He was right. She'd known from the second she walked away.

'This is mental,' she whispered. 'I'm forty-five.'

'Don't look it,' he said, eyes all over her. 'Look fit.'

'And you're what, nineteen?'

'Eighteen.' He shrugged. 'Who gives a toss?'

His rough talk lit something inside her, a darkness she'd buried under cashmere and good manners. 'I'm a King's Counsel,' she said, like that mattered when she was soaking her knickers.

'Don't give a shit.' He stepped closer, almost touching her. 'Just know when someone needs a proper seeing to.'

Her back hit the shed wall. Jack's hand hovered near her throat. 'Tell me to piss off if you don't want it..' he said quietly.

Sophie said nothing, just felt her pulse throbbing.

He crashed his mouth onto hers. Rough. Hungry. Tasted of mint vape and energy drink. Nothing like Richard's careful kisses. She grabbed his hoodie. Yanked him against her. Their teeth clacked. He bit her lip.

His cock pressed against her through his jogging bottoms. His hand went under her coat. Bunched her blouse. Grabbed her breast.

'Fuck you are fit,' he muttered.'

Neither heard the footsteps till too late.

'Jack, you here? Cal wants--' The voice stopped.

Sophie's eyes flew open. Another young thug stood there watching.

'Fucking hell,' he said, grinning. 'Jack, you jammy cunt.'

Sophie went hot, shame and lust mixing up inside her.

Jack moved in front of her. 'Piss off, Cal.'

But Cal stayed, eyeing Sophie like she was on the menu. He was older than Jack, harder, the kind of bloke who'd been in trouble from primary school onwards.

'Sharing's caring,' Cal smirked. 'Always said you was greedy.'

Jack tensed. 'Shut it.'

Cal's eyes fixed on Sophie, undressing her. 'Not your usual type, is she?'

'And what's that?' Sophie asked, steadier than she felt, something dark in her loving being talked about.

'Girls his age. Bit of rough from the estate.' Cal's eyes crawled down her body, stopping on her legs. 'Not some posh MILF in fancy wellies.'

Jack tensed. 'Watch your fucking gob.'

Cal grinned. 'No offence, Lady Muck. Just saying you look... expensive.'

Sophie should've walked off. Should've been horrified. Instead, her skin felt too tight, breath coming fast.

'Maybe I got bored of cheap tarts,' Jack said, hand sliding to Sophie's arse.

Cal laughed. 'Them tights would look better ripped off. Or stuffed in that posh gob.'

The comment hit Sophie like a slap. Her nipples hardened against silk.

'This isn't what it looks like,' she lied pathetically.

Cal's smirk said he knew better. 'Course not.'

They were stuck. Sophie behind Jack, Cal blocking the path. Nowhere to go except...

The shed door stood open. Jack glanced at it, then at her.

Sophie paused. This was mental. She was forty-five. A KC. Mum to a teenage son playing fifty yards away. What the fuck was she doing?

'Your girlfriend's by the car,' she said to Cal, voice tight with need.

Cal's eyebrows shot up, surprise flashing before his face went dark. 'Chloe? She'll be fine.' He stepped closer. 'Unless you want me to nick off?'

Sophie's mouth went dry. 'I didn't say that.'

Cal looked proper shocked before smiling slowly. 'Bloody hell. Always the quiet ones.'

The shed door creaked as Jack pushed it open. Dark, smelling of damp earth.

'In here,' he said roughly. 'Before someone sees.'

They slipped inside, door closing. Sophie heard herself breathing too loud. Cal's eyes gleamed in the half-light. Jack's hand found her throat.

'Last chance,' Jack whispered.

Sophie grabbed his wrist, pressed his hand against her throat. 'Make it hurt.'

The last thing she clocked before Jack shoved her against the wall. His grip crushed her throat, making her gasp. He yanked her skirt up round her waist while Cal just stood there, eyes hungry in the dark.

'Fuck me,' Cal grunted, stepping up. 'Lady Muck wants it rough, does she?'

Sophie couldn't speak with Jack's fingers digging into her neck. Her head swam, lights popping behind her eyes as his other hand grabbed her thigh hard enough to bruise.

'These cost more than you make in a day,' she choked out when he grabbed her tights.

Jack smiled, mean as fuck. 'Then I'll ruin them.'

He let go of her throat to grab both sides, tearing the nylon with a rip that made her whimper. Cold air hit her bare thighs.

Cal moved behind her, hands rough on her tits through silk. 'Christ, you're gagging for it.'

'Shut up,' she hissed, grabbing his hair. 'Just do it.'

Jack laughed, rough and low. 'Bossy bitch.'

His fingers yanked her knickers aside. Sophie gasped as his rough fingers found her cunt.

'Soaked,' Jack showed Cal. 'See?'

Cal groaned. Working her blouse buttons. 'Knew it. Posh birds are always filthy.'

Sophie's head fell back as Jack's fingers pushed inside her. Her son was fifty yards away. Anyone could walk in.

Her hand went to Jack's crotch. Squeezed his cock through jogging bottoms. She reached in. Pulled him out. Hard in her hand.

'God, yes,' Sophie breathed, her voice different now. Rougher. 'Been thinking about this.'

'Fuck,' Jack hissed as she wanked him. Grip tight. Thumb over the wet tip.

She pulled him into a kiss. Still working his cock. His fingers inside her.

'You like that?' he muttered against her mouth.

'Don't stop,' she gasped, stroking faster. 'Need this.'

Cal dropped to his knees. Tugged at her Wellington boot. 'Let me,' he muttered. Pulled it off with a grunt.

Sophie gasped. Cal ran his hand up her calf. The sensation odd. Unexpected. She kept wanking Jack. Faster now. Hand slick.

'Can't wait,' she panted, looking down at Jack's cock in her hand. 'Need you inside me.'

Jack's eyes went dark. 'Eager, aren't you?'

Cal grabbed her wrists behind her back. Position thrust her tits forward. Blouse open. Lace bra exposed.

Jack wrapped her silk scarf around her wrists. Yanked tight.

'Too tight?' he asked. Voice rough.

'Not tight enough,' she said.

He pulled harder. Made her gasp. 'Better?'

The pain cleared her head. 'Yes.'

Cal's hands went back to her tits. Pinched a nipple through lace. She cried out.

'Quiet,' Jack warned. Covering her mouth. 'Unless you want everyone to hear.'

Sophie bit his palm. Jack cursed. Slapped her. Her head snapped sideways.

The shock went straight between her legs. Sophie moaned.

'Fucking gagging for it,' Cal said.

Jack grabbed her hair. Yanked her head back. 'Tell us what you want.'

Sophie swallowed. Twenty-six years between them. Career suicide. And yet--

'Fuck me now,' she said. 'Both of you. Make me feel it.'

Jack smiled. 'Turn around...done this before?' he smirked. Getting into position.

Sophie shook her head.

'Good,' Jack growled. Ramming his hard cock into her with one thrust.

Sophie muffled a cry as Cal shoved fingers in her mouth. She tasted salt.

'Bite me and you'll be sorry,' Cal warned. Getting his cock out. 'Show me what that posh mouth does.'

Sophie went down on the shed floor. Jack still inside her. Still gripping her throat. On her knees now. Hands tied. She took Cal in her mouth.

For the first time in fifteen years, Sophie Crawford stopped thinking. Just feeling. Just needing.

Jack pounded her. Each thrust pushing her onto Cal. Her skirt ruined. Blouse hanging open. Thousand-quid coat crumpled under her knees on the dirty floor.

'Christ,' Cal groaned. Fisting her hair. 'Your fucking mouth.'

'Close,' Jack grunted. Rhythm faltering. 'Fuck.'

Sophie moaned around Cal. She was close too. Never happened with Richard without work.

Jack's hand found her throat again. Squeezing directly this time. 'Come for me, you posh cunt.'

The order. The pressure. The wrongness pushed her over. Sophie came hard. Vision going black at the edges.

Cal pulled back. Watching her face. 'Fucking beautiful,' he muttered. Wanking himself. 'Look at Lady Muck now. Not so high and mighty.'

Jack pulled out. Flipping her roughly. Sophie lay on her ruined coat. Wrists tied. Tits out. Cal straddled her chest.

'Look at me,' Cal demanded.

Sophie held his gaze as he came on her exposed skin. Marking her expensive bra. Throat. Jaw.

Jack finished moments later. Sophie lay there. Tied up. Ruined. She should've felt used. Should've felt ashamed.

Instead, she felt reborn.

After, her hands shook as she looked at her ruined tights. Legs trembling. Bruises forming on her throat. Marks she'd hide with scarves.

'Christ,' Cal muttered. 'That was something.'

Jack untied her wrists and handed Sophie her scarf. Watching her with something darker.

'You alright?' he asked quietly.

'Yes,' she said. Surprised it was true despite the ache. The burning. 'Quite.'

She put lipstick on without a mirror. From years of court breaks. Her hair was fucked. She twisted it back. Pins barely holding.

She struggled with her Wellington boots. Mud caked the sides. Cost more than Jack's trainers. Another rich mum accessory.

'Can't believe that just happened,' Jack said. Running a hand through his messy hair.

Cal watched. Fascinated. 'Like watching one of them serial killers cleaning up.'

'Eloquent as ever,' Sophie said. Brushing mud from her bruised knees.

Jack gave her the discarded leather gloves. 'Next Saturday?'

Sophie should've said no. Should've run. This was mental. Dangerous. She'd let them do things she'd never admitted wanting. Things that would ruin her if they got out.

'Same time,' she said. Meeting his eyes. 'Bring something to gag me next time.'

Cal laughed. 'Full of surprises, Lady Muck. Who'd have thought you'd be into that?'

'There's a lot you don't know about me,' Sophie cut him off. Voice sharp with new confidence.

Cal held up his hands. 'No complaints here, love. Might bring something special.'

The whistle blew. Match over.

'Should go,' she said. Smoothing her skirt one last time.

Outside, cold air hit her hot face. She took a deep breath.

She didn't see Chloe watching from behind the corner. Green eyes narrow. Phone in hand. Didn't see her take pictures as Sophie came out. Messy with ripped tights despite her efforts. Followed by Cal and Jack looking exactly like blokes who'd just shagged her senseless.

Sophie walked back to the crowd. Rebuilding herself with each step. Back to being Sophie Crawford, KC, mother, committee treasurer.

'There you are,' Amanda called. Waving. 'We need someone for the fundraiser committee.'

Sophie smiled. Lips still bruised from bites she'd begged for. 'I'll think about it.'

Thomas jogged over. Muddy and grinning. 'See my goal, Mum?'

'Wonderful, darling,' she said. The perfect mother. 'Absolutely wonderful.'

No one could see what she knew now. That she had two sides. That she could be Sophie Crawford, respected professional, and still be the woman who'd just let two lads half her age tie her wrists with her own scarf until she begged for more.

Would sge be back next Saturday? The thought thrilled her as she gathered Thomas's things. Nodding as he went on about his goal.

Back at the car park, Chloe slid in beside Cal.

'Where'd you get to?' Cal asked. Starting the engine. 'Missed the match.'

Chloe smiled. Phone in her pocket. Evidence stored. 'Nowhere special. Just taking pictures.'

'Of what? Boring football?'

'Not at all,' Chloe replied. Eyes finding Sophie across the car park. Hatred burning beneath her smile. 'Actually, I found it fucking educational.'

She tapped her phone. 'Think I might start a podcast. You know, about what really goes on in this shitty little town.'