Bardin Bad Things

Twisty Erotic Tales from the Island of Misfit Desires
1. Auflage 2016
ISBN: 978-1-4835-8823-0
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 200 Seiten

Good is good. But sometimes...bad is better. The quests of women and men hungry for experiences beyond the acceptable bounds of normality light up the pages of this collection. Desires are chased, dreams fulfilled, and palates broadened irrevocably as their travels into the carnal netherworld take the reader on a journey into the lands of what-if.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Bardin, Anna

Leseproben

Taker
?????   “Isotope 9? Good one, man,” I nodded encouragingly, ringing him up. “Got a reward card?” The pimply teen kept staring at my nose ring. I was used to it, but today was a little busy, so it rankled me a bit to have to repeat myself. Eyeing the line behind him, I snapped my fingers in front of my face. He popped back to reality. “Reward card?” I asked again politely, as if he’d never spaced out. He produced his grubby Garuda Comics plastic, and I scanned it with my laser from a safe distance. The kid was one of those sweatbuckets. Doesn’t matter how hot or cold it is, they’re always sweating. Their mouths never stay closed, either. I sometimes wonder if there’s a connection, some sort of attempt at self-cooling. I don’t think it’s working. Behind the sweatbucket, I saw a maybe. Quiet, good cheekbones, skin holding up all right considering. Definitely a virgin. I guessed he was a Chad. He pulled up to the counter, all averted eyes and shy smile. “Frizzle Fry? Nice choice,” I offered, eliciting a polite nod and a hint of blue eye. Aww. What a cutie. “Reward card?” I asked. The lad produced a near-pristine Garuda Comics card, which I took from his exceptionally clean hands. Scanning it, I smiled a little on the inside. Thad. Close enough. Also, 17. Legal. I handed the card back, brushing his finger a little with mine. He noticed, and cleared his throat nervously. Yeah, buddy. I’m looking at you. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. I, Kaia Foster, hunt and destroy virgin boys. Go ahead. Judge me. Men salivate over teen girls and no one bats an eye, but let a woman declare her taste for the tenderest meat, and suddenly she’s a freak. Well, fuck you. At 25, I’m way younger than your average male creeper browsing the barely-legals, and way hotter to boot. Feast your eyes, oldies. Five foot two, chin-length red hair, petite with curves, tight jeans, Converse, oversized boy flannel button-down hanging off a Ramones tank top. You’d hit it. If I let you. I fall asleep to the sound of n00bs fapping alone in their beds all over town. There is, however, a certain subset of the teen male population who, if they behave, can win a free trip to Kaiatown Amusement Park. The comic shop is a perfect place for me to browse the younglings for such candidates. Requirements: Clean, polite, quiet, smart, and oh yeah, cute. But Kaia, you exclaim, aren’t teenage boys unbelievably horrible in the sack? Not if you show them what to do, they’re not. You wanna take, you gotta give. My net handle is Taker for a reason. I take boys and make them men. I teach patience, and more patience. It takes as long as it takes, my young Padawan, and your future girlfriend will be glad I snatched you from that cradle. I like to think I’m providing a necessary service to the community, equipping the best and brightest for maximum reproductive opportunity. Building a better America, one busted cherry at a time. And getting serviced myself by the most grateful customers you will ever meet. Gratitude is a thing for me. I’ll explain more about that later. But first, consider the case of Thad. Not one day after scouting him out at Garuda, I tried the phone number on his reward card profile. My policy: If family answers, I drop the search. Guy’s gotta have his own phone, which most of the kids do these days. Also, his own car. Basically keep it between us, no parents or siblings. I don’t need some soccer mom coming up to the store and bitching out the manager because that whore with the piercings violated her sweet baby boy. I don’t worry about the guys themselves, they never rat. Anyway, I was in luck. “Hello?” “Hey man. This Thad?” A pause. “Uh, yeah. Who’s this?” “Kaia. I work up at Garuda.” I could hear him composing himself, and I thought of him running his hand through his tousled brown hair. Adorable. “Oh, right. Hey, Kaia.” “So, um…this might sound kinda strange, but…like, you doing anything Friday night?” That part always knocks them over. Like an oar to the head in a slapstick flick. I gave him a minute. “No, not really,” he said, finally. “I mean, not seriously, anyway. Was just gonna go hang out downtown, but, you know…” “You ever been to the falls at night?” I threw in quickly, before he tied himself up in words. “Uh, no,” he admitted. “Wanna go up there with me Friday 7ish? It’s nice this time of year.” I don’t fuck around with subtlety. The tenderfeet take too long to pick up on it, and I’m not getting any younger. “Okay, yeah, sure…right, absolutely,” he replied, fumbling for reality somewhere in this wet dream that might or might not be transpiring before his very ears. “Where do I meet you?” “The Hill. I’ll be in my van.” That’s right. The Taker has a shaggin’ wagon. “Oh, one thing,” I hastened to add. “Keep this between us, okay? I mean, I know you probably wanna tell your friends that Garuda Red thinks you’re hot, but we don’t need the paparazzi, know what I mean?” Speechless. Naturally. “Tell your parents you’re going downtown with buddies,” I added. “Oh, and bring something from Chaplain’s Chicken. Doesn’t matter what.” “Yeah, sure. Right on,” he replied, catching his breath at last. “See ya, cutie,” I signed off. You’d think making boys uncomfortable would get old, but it really doesn’t. At least not for me. Origin story: I haven’t been a virgin for a very long time. I started early, tired of being a kid. Plus, my neighbor Jeremy? Hot. I let him fumble around with my pussy whenever possible, and after a few weeks, he finally gave me my first decent O. And even then, I was more excited for him than for me. Like “Yay, you did it! Good job!” I’m magnanimous like that. I got curious about bigger and better, so I started hitting up the older boys. It was a mixed bag. While they were certainly more experienced and more technically skilled, I didn’t appreciate the way they acted. Like they were the only ones doing anybody a favor. The all-knowing and all-seeing Gifts to Clitoral Kind. I sort of have an aversion to confidence. Like bands who are too good, you know? I wanna see some underdog action. Watch a young buck earn his stripes. Those are the comics I like. Makes sense to tingle at the prospect of seeing it IRL. And the gratitude, woof. When I really thought about it, that’s what I was missing from the master cocksmen. It was like, ‘Yeah, bitch, I knew you’d pop to that.” I mean, they wouldn’t say it, but I could see them thinking that shit. Even when they gave me a leg-shaker, I still kind of walked off feeling like I’d been just another widget on the assembly line. The young things are still capable of wonder. And that’s what sex is about, as far as I’m concerned. Like ‘check out this crazy stuff our bodies can do!’ The amazement in their eyes…augh. I can’t talk about it. I’d rather talk about Thad. He was one of my favorites. When I saw his beat-up Civic pulling in next to my van, I felt like Shelob in her lair. The Hill was a lonely place on Friday nights. The Overlook was the lover’s spot across the river, with a clear view of the falls. The Hill was technically higher ground, but trees blocked most of the vista. No better place for boning than a secluded forest, replete with the sound of waves crashing against the rocks. Kaia, you dumb bitch, you exclaim, isn’t that a dangerous place for a hot young lady in the dark? It would be if I weren’t armed. The Taker doesn’t fuck around when it comes to security. I’d bring the boys to my place, but I have roomies, and I’m not giving them a show. Besides, I like a little danger. Thad hesitated for a moment before opening his car door. It was probably only just occurring to him that this could be a setup. And it was. But not the kind he was worried about. I hopped out and sidled my swaying hips up to his window before he changed his mind. “Don’t worry, Rocco’s not waiting inside to bash your head in and take your wallet,” I assured him. “What’s he in there for, then?” he threw back, risking a bit of nerve. I smiled. “Aha! Astute fellow. You got some of that chicken?” I asked, although I could smell it through the window. He nodded, and I stepped away from the door to let him exit. The good part about being short is that even an average-sized guy towers above my little frame. Makes the young ones feel big and strong when they get hold of me, which keeps their delicate egos from shrinking in the presence of a superior sexual force. Thad was only five foot nine-ish, but his shadow eclipsed the full moon before my eyes as he rose from the car. The butterflies were pounding through his stomach just below my head, and I could feel waves of terror flying off his fresh, soap-scented skin. It was to be expected. But education isn’t effective in the face of fear. Time to break the ice. “Appetizer,” I said, placing the bag of chicken on the ground with one hand and undoing his belt buckle with the other. Both hands free now, I turned my blue eyes up to soak in his bedazzled expression as I slid his pants & boxer briefs down around his ankles. The shock! The disbelief! The motherfucking gratitude! There it was, glowing around him like a halo, and my grin widened as I fell to my knees before his bewitched trouser snake, which was of course already harder than hard. I kept my...