Disclaimers: This work is a work of fiction and is my property.
The story and characters are fictitious and any resemblance to anyone or any actual event is coincidental. There are three distinctly different main characters that will appear as the story progresses.
You should be legally allowed to read this type of material before continuing.
As it is based on an actual book, I had published a few years ago -- free for your enjoyment -- the story will not contain explicit material in all the chapters BUT don't fret, as it is more the exception than the rule.
Note that in one chapter to come, there will be a sexually violent scenario. If this will trigger any trauma for you, please be aware of it before you start reading.
Please direct any comments or feedback to my email address at davidrolsynauthor2019@gmail.com.
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CHAPTER TEN
Stephen Jordan
The motel owner sent someone to get me breakfast from the diner and it was delivered to my room. It was past lunchtime but he probably thought an oily bacon and eggs breakfast would be the best option for me now. The thought of it was nauseating at first, but it was just what I needed. I felt better as I knocked back the cheap coffee, which was just the added kick I needed.
Rex arrived back with what he promised, and I got into the shower. The water helped me relax and for a moment I forgot about my current predicament. I got dressed, combed back my hair, and I decided not to shave completely but to leave a small goatee on my chin. It made me look more assertive.
As I enter the room, Rex is watching cartoons on the, now working, TV. Go figure.
"You feel good?" he asks, raising his brow.
"Yeah, thanks, Rex. But I guess now it's back to the real world."
"I think what happened to you is as real as it gets." He stares at me with a very sober expression.
"I suppose. I mean, I've got to face my family now."
"Yes. Your phone was beeping non-stop while you were in the shower."
I pick up it up and start dialing. My dad answers within a spilt second.
"Where in the blazes have you been, son? Your mom is beside herself with worry. Are you ok?"
"I'm fine, Dad. The flight was cancelled and I couldn't get to sleep. I took some tablets but it seemed I took the wrong dose, because I passed out and missed my flight. I'm sorry I missed your calls and messages. My phone also died in the process."
He doesn't need to know about the alcohol or supposed attempted suicide. Anyway, I'm not convinced that was what really happened.
"Ok." A short silence follows. "I'm in town and will come fetch you. Flew in yesterday when we couldn't get hold of you. Where are you now?"
I give him the name and address of the motel, and he says he'll see me in about an hour. I turn to Rex.
"My dad will be here soon. I think its best that we don't tell him about what really happened. It'll just freak him out. You agree?"
"Sure, buddy. Anyway, I have to go now, but give me your number and I'll check in with you from time to time, ok?" He hands me his cell phone, open on his contacts.
"Sure." I enter my number into his phone and dial it so I can save his number on mine.
I take a good look at him. He's about five foot nine and bulky. A man's man with nice features. With a broad face and strong chin, covered in stubble, he has deep-set, greyish eyes. He's mouth is quirky and dimples appear on either side when he smiles. His eyebrows are thick and they match his spikey, blonde hair. He could be around twenty-five or so.
He's attractive, now that I think about it.
"What you staring at, buddy?" His eyes twinkle.
I blush.
"Sorry, Rex." I turn away.
"No worries. I gotta go but chat to you soon! Just holler if you need anything!" With that he leaves.
Just short of an hour later, my dad shows up. He looks pale and stressed. We settle the room charges and head off to the airport. He booked us new flights and finally I'm on my way home. I managed to trace my suitcase and returned the one I had to send wherever it was meant to go.
We sit quietly next to each other on the plane. My dad keeps himself occupied with the in-flight magazine. He's not much of a talker, even more so when we're in public.
I study him lovingly. My features are more like my mother's, but I have my father's genes when it comes to my height and eye color. Charlie looks much more like him but he's a bit shorter than me. They both have crew-cut hairstyles and an olive complexion.
We land, and Charlie's already waiting for us in the arrivals lounge. He's wearing his Stetson and hands my dad his own. I don't wear them because they make me look even taller than I already am.
"Hey, Stevie. You had us worried, man. Dad says you OD'd on some medicine. You trying to off yourself, bro?" He laughs as he flicks me hard on my chest.
I swallow and give him one on the shoulder to show that I'm in on his joke. If they only knew.
"You're an asshole, you know," I scold him playfully.
"Language!"
"Sorry, Dad," we both say in unison. It's good to be back.
"And what's this, Stevie?" He grabs my goatee.
I duck and ignore him.
We get into the pickup and drive to the farm.
Country music plays on the radio, and the afternoon sun is beaming brightly through the windows. There's no trace left of the storm that was here just a few days ago. The rows and rows of fields we pass remind me why I wanted to come back home. I sigh and close my eyes, leaning back into the seat. I'm wedged between my brother and my father and I feel safe for the first time in ages.
This is where I belong.
When we drive up to the farmhouse, my mom is waiting for us on the porch. I jump out, grab my bags and run straight to her.
"I missed you, sweetheart." She beams.
My heart wants to explode. I missed her, but seeing her in the flesh overwhelms me with emotion. I drop my belongings on the ground and run up the stairs to greet her. We hug until my dad interrupts us.
"I don't know how you folks do it in the city, boy, but here we carry our own things inside. Those bags ain't gonna walk themselves into your room, ya hear?"
I let go of mother.
"Yes, sir!" I smile. Home, sweet home.
I pick up the gear, head inside and up the stairs to my childhood bedroom. They left it exactly as it had always been. I'll need to change some things and do a bit of rearranging. Some of the trophies, flags, posters, and geeky toys don't reflect who I am anymore. I'm no longer that boy.
Sadness grips me and I sink down onto my bed. I feel a little, no, much older.
Joshua Taylor
Sitting next to Stacey on the couch, I'm half-heartedly watching The Bachelorette on TV.
It had been a boring day at work. No customers in sight. In fact, the whole two years at the mall photo studio has sucked. The pay is crap. With my good looks and intelligence, I should, in some way or another, be earning the big bucks by now. What's the point of having good looks if it does nothing for me?
To make matters worse, Stacey can be draining at times. We've been dating for a few months or so and although I'm comfortable with her, her mood swings are a bit exhausting. But hey, at least the sex is all right! I'm getting some and can't complain on that front.
She's hot!
I take a good look at her. She has long blonde hair that reaches down to her lower back. Some of it is now cascading towards the front and resting on her firm tits. The revealing red top with the shoestring straps, my favorite, is barely covering her pointy nipples. Her tits aren't too big and not too small. They're just perfect and my prick stiffens. I wouldn't expect any less from a twenty-year-old girl built for speed.
I stare at her smooth and supple legs. At five foot two, she's just the right height for me. I like my girls short. It makes me look taller than my five foot ten and makes the sex more versatile. It makes it easier to hoist her up onto my prick and fuck her nice and slow. I'm fucking hard now.
But honestly, that's not what ultimately gets me off.
Even though it's mighty fine having her straddling me when we're fucking, leisurely sliding up and down my prick, if I decide it's time to cum, I just flip her onto her back and fuck her till I'm done. She orgasms quickly and often, kudos to me! It's because of my big prick, great stamina, and of course my good looks.
No one has ever complained about me in the sack. I smile proudly to myself.
It actually didn't take long to get her into bed at the start, because she liked me from the word go. I know I'm hot and I'm not shy to use it to my advantage.
At least I don't have to go looking for pussy so often anymore. I just wish she wasn't so damn clingy because it drives me nuts. I suppose that's the nature of the beast; a small price to pay for some ass and a home-cooked meal every night.
My prick softens, as I sneer at that.
Stacey works half-days at a book store, so she's always home in the afternoon and gets dinner ready for me for when I get home. I met her at the photo studio one day when she came in for a private shoot. I'm not the photographer but develop the pictures and set up any discs of the pictures the clients may need.
It was initially not that easy to get into her pants, because she insisted that we go out on three dates first. I usually dump a girl immediately if she doesn't put out, but she made me laugh with her quirky jokes and wasn't that bad to hang around with. I had to have her though and so I just laid on the charm and played into her sensitive-boyfriend fantasy. She put out after the third date and it was a lot of fun.
Then, after she invited me back to her place for a second round and I got to taste her cooking, I saw how well she lived. She had a bit of money from a trust fund left to her by an old relative and I thought, until something better comes along, I might as well move in and take full advantage of the situation. The other plus was that she didn't expect me to pay anything towards our living costs or contribute to any expenses. That was a whole lot more economical than staying with my sister, who I might add, was also sticking her nose into my business more than I cared for.
Well, that was a few months ago, and now I'm seriously bored with Stacey and the whole set up. Unfortunately, my options are limited, so, as long as I get sex, a plate of food, my laundry done, and a rent-free place to stay, I'll grin and bear it.
I get up to take a leak.
"Where're you going, honey?" Stacey asks with an annoyingly sweet smile.
I cringe. I'm not your honey. "To take a leak, do you mind...?" I say irritably.
"I'll miss you." She bats her eyelashes at me.
Oh, fucking please.
While I'm pissing, I think of what excuse I can use to get out of here. She always wants to tag along and it annoys me. I need to breathe.
I've got it!
I shake myself off and admire my circumcised prick in the long mirror next to the shower. Man, I've got a great one. The helmet and shaft are nearly exactly the same girth and even when it's flaccid, it still hangs at a proud 7.5 inches. I put it back in my pants, zip up my jeans, and head back to the sitting room without washing my hands. Why bother, it's not as if I carry any diseases.
"What day is it?" I set it up.
"It's Thursday. Why?"
I smack my hand against my forehead for effect. "Oh shit. I've got to go. I forgot I told Belinda that I'll have a look at her computer at work because it's been giving her hassles. I said I'd do it this week, so that when she gets back from her vacation tomorrow, everything'll be sorted. Sorry, babe, but I've got to quickly go out."
And just like that I aim for the door.
"Can't I come along and keep you company?" She jumps to her feet.
I stop. Really?
"No, Stacey. I won't be able to concentrate with you there, and I don't want to stay out too late. You'll be a distraction." I wink at her.
She blushes and sits down again. "Ok. I'll miss you."
"Thanks." I grab her car keys and leave.