All characters are eighteen years of age or older.
“Please, Mr. Graves, I’m begging you. I need this job,” David pleaded on the phone. His fingernails dug into his balding scalp. “I’m going through a divorce right now, and I’m going to lose my house if I don’t get paid.” The middle-aged man’s tall frame hunched over the table. The warm glow of the Colt Café coffee shop shielded him from the night’s harsh rain pelting the windowpane.
“Yes, I read the notes regarding The Broken Bit comic strip. I still believe the requested changes go against my original vision, and betray everything the characters stand for,” he continued, after a pause. His reflection in the window stared back at him with dark bags under his eyes. “If you’ll just give me another week to come up with a new series that would better fit the theme—” David was cut short on the other end. He held his breath.
“I see…” he said after a silent minute. Lowering his phone, he let it clatter onto the table. Taking a sip of coffee, it tasted more bitter than it had before. Feeling the urge to flip the table over, he knew it was futile, as it was bolted to the floor. Letting out a heavy sigh, he scrubbed his trimmed salt-and-pepper beard.
The stress made his body feel crummy; thanks to the side effects of his medication. It was partly the reason why he was in this mess to begin with. Karma had a cruel sense of humor. Back in senior year of high school—or was it freshman year of college? David had forgotten. He had cheated on his then girlfriend, and had sex with her mom. She was so sexy, and desperate—or so he had been led to believe at the time.
She had given him some sob story about how her husband couldn’t satisfy her anymore and how she had been so lonely. How could a young and dumb teenager say no? Luckily, she never got pregnant. In hindsight, he pondered if that’s what she had been really after. At some point, he thought he knew women, but he was still as clueless as ever.
As he had cheated on his girlfriend, and later, wife, she had cheated on him too. He knew his daughter was really his best friend’s. His wife had told him that she had a black grandparent, and he convinced himself to believe her, even though he knew it was bullshit. She had grown so tall; she had to have been his… but alas, his best friend had eventually confessed, many years later.
He lifted up the monitor of his laptop. Their family photo was still the wallpaper image: his daughter, dressed in pink, smiled, along with his now ex-wife. David, the balding, chubby, tall-timber, towered in the back, with his arms around them. Karma had taken them all away. His daughter now spent more time with her real father, and his ex was now using the same sob stories that her mother used on him, to get dick from younger college guys.
His meds made his head feel funny. He clicked open his web browser, and the local online news site, Pony Valley Stable, came up; the same company that had employed him until tonight. Sipping his coffee, he needed a distraction. Glancing idly around the small and cozy coffee shop, he looked at the vintage coffee ads from the 1900’s, hanging on the walls. He wasn’t sure if they were real or not.
David caught sight of the young teenaged barista’s reflection in the large window. Her name tag read: Taryn; a cute name for a cute girl. She subtly peeked at him from behind horn-rimmed glasses, fidgeting with her black braid. She appeared to be the shy and quiet type; the kind of girl who could use an assertive guy to help her break out of her shell. David wished he could be that guy, but his confidence was low on multiple levels.
Had he been decades younger, he would have been flirting with her in an instant. David let his mind wander, as he imagined lifting up her black skirt, and rolling down her pantyhose, to find a pair of black lace panties. No, she was too mousy for black lace. Taryn was probably more into pink panties, perhaps with a cute print on them. His daughter always liked the color pink.
David sighed; frustrated that everything reminded him of his woes. Refocusing on his fantasy, he mentally stripped her down. Forcefully he yanked open her beige long-sleeved shirt, popping off the buttons in the process. Her tits weren’t too big. She was maybe a 32A, or a 30B. He wasn’t very well versed with bra sizes, and he had a hard time telling the difference.
Leaving her nearly naked, with nothing but her brown apron covering her shaved pussy, he hoisted her up onto the bar table. She begged for his cock to fill her holes. Her pussy was so tight. Taryn was desperate for him to come inside of her, but he wasn’t going to give her what she wanted; not yet. Instead, he pulled out, and fucked her in the ass…
The brief fantasy came to an abrupt end, as he failed to achieve an erection. The spirit was willing, but his body just couldn’t get into it. Hanging his head in defeat, he took another sip of coffee. He was old enough to be her father, anyways. Heck, she gaziantep suriyeli escort might not even be in college yet.
There was no way she would be interested in a guy like him; and he knew better than to get involved with a teenager, even if she was over eighteen. Too much drama, angst, and immaturity. Besides, while he may be a perverted old man, he didn’t need such a reputation advertised, with a girl half his age, wrapped around his arm. Regardless, he wouldn’t have been able to satisfy her anyways.
Picking up his digital pen, he opened his art program, and began sketching a rough comic strip on the screen. It featured a tall, fat, bald man, who found a magical MacGuffin, with three wishes. First he wished he was young and healthy again, with a full head of long hair. The second wish was to go back and redo his life, while trying to avoid all the mistakes he had made last time. Finally, he wished he was short, thin, and cute, and then in a puff of smoke, he turned into a teenage girl.
Opening a new file, he began to sketch Taryn. She caught him looking at her. Smiling nervously, she quickly turned around; pretending to be distracted by the heavy rainfall outside the window. David continued to draw her in several states of undress, as she feigned to be busy; rattling bags, and needlessly rearranged items on the shelf.
It was just the two of them in the lonely café, on a miserable stormy night. What was going through Taryn’s mind? What if she was actually interested in him? It was a ridiculous notion, but some girls do like older men. Maybe she had daddy issues? He sketched her naked, on her knees, mouth open, and tongue out, trying to catch “daddy’s” cum, as it splattered on her black rimmed glasses, and face.
David’s penis started to stiffen, but was quickly lost. Not even drawing explicit porn of a girl, just a few feet away from her was enough to get him warmed up. Not that he would have been able to do anything about it in public, even if he had gotten hard. It wasn’t that he wanted to get off on Taryn while she was standing there; he just wanted to prove to himself that he could still get it up, if he tried.
Deciding to close the art program, before he got too carried away, he went back to the web browser. Scrolling down the page that used to host The Broken Bit, at the very end, underneath the advertisement banners, he spotted a tiny link underneath, that he hadn’t noticed before.
“Pony Valley Helpful Housing Initiative?” he mumbled. Curious, he clicked the link, and it brought him to a rather plain, but professionally made, website. Reading over the first few paragraphs, he quirked a brow. “A chance to win a plot of land with a new custom designer home, fully furnished, all expenses paid for…”
David’s face lit up. It sounded too good to be true, but he was on the verge of becoming homeless. The town had been building new homes this year, and he had assumed it was merely normal growth of the town. Doing some sleuthing, he found two sponsors for this contest: Dana Richards, and Pearl Silverman. The names sounded awfully familiar. Searching the Stable provided the answers to why.
“Holy shit…” He stared at the screen, while absently groping for his coffee cup. Dana Richards, as in the Richards’ Mining Co. Their logo was the same one that was plastered on the sides of all the local trucks hauling stuff from the local mines. Her family owned, and founded, the entire town of Pony Valley. The photo featured an older sixty-four year old woman, with obviously dyed ginger hair, and far too many bad plastic surgeries. Her outfit alone likely cost more than David’s home, his car, and more money than he had earned in his entire life.
Pearl Silverman, was Dana’s long time friend, and rumored lesbian lover, but was primarily known as a world renowned designer architect. Photos included custom homes with an ultra-modern minimalist style, and some were absolutely whimsical. They were the kind of homes that only the obscenely wealthy could afford. David licked his lips.
Pearl’s personal photo was of a fifty-eight year old woman with grey hair and glasses. She was a beautiful woman, who was aging far more gracefully than her counterpart. Wearing prim equestrian attire, she posed with a grey Arabian mare. “I can see where the name of the town came from…”
His heart raced. This was too good to pass up. Hastily entering his information, he sent it off, and then entered the code from the confirmation email. A thank you screen appeared, and invited him to come to the Pony Valley Clinic East building, to fill out a voluntary wellness questionnaire; day or night. They offered to pay participants twenty dollars.
“Hmm. I could use every little bit I can get now,” he said, draining the last mouthful of coffee. Checking the time, he wasn’t sure if they would still be open at this hour. However, they did say day or night. With lifted spirits, he felt cautiously optimistic. Shutting down gaziantep türbanlı escort his laptop, he stored it into his messenger bag, and then tucked away his phone inside his jacket pocket.
Standing up from the table, he gave the young barista a nod. “You have a good night,” he said.
“Thank you; come again,” Taryn replied timidly.
David smiled politely, but grinned internally, knowing he had gotten away with drawing lewd pictures of her. Maybe it was wrong of him to feel that way, but he was feeling better, and didn’t want to ruin the good mood. The rain buffeted him as he ventured out into the night. Quickly he ducked into his car, and headed for the highway.
There was no traffic on the roads, and the roadwork crews had long since gone home for the night. Even on the busiest of days, traffic was light. If the two ladies who owned the town were giving away free expensive homes, more folks may start moving into town for the opportunity. The drive to the clinic only took a couple of minutes from the town center.
Pulling up to the closest parking space, the parking lot was empty, save for a few cars for the night shift. Hurrying to the door, it was locked. Peering inside, the lights were off.
Looking at the signs, the arrow pointed to his right, towards the eastern half of the building. Cutting across the lawn, he rushed to the other entrance. The lights were on, and the door was unlocked. Inside was a narrow white waiting room.
“Hello there, what can I do you for?” said the strapping clean cut man in his thirties, from behind the corner receptionist counter. His voice had a rich bass, and sounded as if he was from an old 1950’s film.
“Yes, hi. I’m looking for that wellness questionnaire thing,” David said, wiping the rain water from his hands onto his jeans.
The receptionist clipped a piece of paper to a clipboard, with a pen on a chain, and then handed it to him. “Fill this out, and the doctor will speak with you in just a moment.”
Taking a seat on one of the white chairs, he wondered what kind of questions they were going to ask him. The form asked for the standard medical history, and wanted a list of medications and allergies. A few minutes later, he was finished, and handed it back to the man.
Sitting back down, he crossed his legs, and watched the old TV hanging in the corner of the room. The volume was low, but he recognized the commercial. The man leaned out from behind the shower curtain, smiling wide; his hair thick with shampoo. “If you think your normal boring shampoo is the best there is, then try Vanity Vendor’s Bubble-Scrub. It’s so good; we’ll change your mind!”
Leaning back, he relaxed, waiting. There was a slight tingling in his fingers. He shook out his right hand, and wiped it on his jeans. The last person to use that pen must have either had greasy fingers, or had too much lotion on their hands. David felt surprisingly relaxed. Even with the cup of coffee he had, he felt like he could take a nap.
“David?” a woman’s voice called him from down the hallway. He got up and followed her into the back room. The woman asked him a few questions, nothing really interesting. The whole session was unremarkable, and it was over before he knew it. By the time he walked out of her office, he couldn’t even remember her name. It didn’t matter. He got his twenty bucks, and that’s all he cared about.
The drive home was uneventful. It went by in a blur. As he opened the front door, he felt so tired, he considered going to bed early. Navigating through the maze of cardboard boxes, he set his messenger bag down by the nightstand in the master bedroom. Changing out of his wet clothes, he put on a fresh jogging outfit.
The small bandage on his arm caught on the sleeve of his shirt. Peeling off the adhesive strip, he wadded it up into a ball, and tossed it in the garbage. He didn’t even remember why he had it on in the first place. His left arm was slightly sore, but David couldn’t find any bruising or cuts. Brushing his fingers through his beard, his grey hairs started to fall out in his hand.
“Ugh. I’m already losing the hair on my head. I’ve never heard of men going bald on their chin.” Flicking the hairs from his hand, he went back to the queen sized bed. “Hmph.” The whole house felt empty; especially with nearly everything packed away.
Booting up his laptop one more time, he checked his email. Nothing new. Glancing at the time, it was no wonder why he was so tired. It was after four in the morning. How did it get so late? Sighing, he shut down his laptop, and plugged it in to be charged. Stripping down to his boxers, he crawled into bed, and fell asleep the moment he closed his eyes.
Daniil found himself in a surreal dream world. Powerful winds tore through the dark carnival grounds. Massive tornadoes raged nearby. He needed to get inside, fast. The gate had a guardian: a man on tall stilts, wearing gaziantep ücreti elden alan escort a faceless mask. Leaning down, he outstretched a long arm, holding open his palm, awaiting an offering. Daniil put a silver token in his hand.
The man stood up, towering a good fifty feet into the dark sky. The winds whisked him away, like paper. The gates opened. Rushing inside, the winds calmed down, but swirled around the outskirts of the carnival grounds. Familiar faces roamed around, enjoying the rides and games. Daniil knew them, but he remembered them as other people. None of them paid attention to him, and went about their business.
He came upon a mechanical game; a glass box with a genie inside. The lower half of the genie was a whirlwind, and the features of its face were worn away. An illustration of a scroll in the back read: “Make a wish! Find your fortune!”
Putting a silver token into the slot, he pulled the lever. The game lit up, and the mechanical genie began to move. Fuzzy music played from the old worn out speakers. A ticket with his fortune came out of the slot below. It read: “The winds of change are blowing.”
Daniil stepped away from the game, and wandered further through the colorful tents and displays. He passed by a booth with a puppet show. A woman wearing all black stood against black curtains. The top of the booth concealed her face, while she controlled a dancing marionette.
He continued walking until he found a large Ferris wheel. A sign next to a height chart read: “Want to go for a ride?” Being the runt of the family, he was annoyed at first, but the height chart didn’t list any specific minimum height. A man holding balloons stood in front of the line. He wore a colorful vest and bow tie, and a blank white mask, with two black pits for eyes. He held out his palm. Daniil put another silver token in his hand.
The ground collapsed beneath him. Falling deep into the pit, he landed in a fun house surrounded by twisted mirrors. His reflections warped and distorted to the point where he couldn’t recognize himself anymore. His wallet landed on the ground next to him. Daniil reached out with a deformed arm, and recoiled at the sight.
His family photo was visible inside his wallet. The image kept changing. First it was a man, an only child, and then his wife and their daughter appeared. Then it shifted to where the father was gone, and it was just his mother, Daniil, and his little sister Taryn. Suddenly they were the same age; fraternal twins. Their mother vanished, as did Daniil, but in his place with Taryn’s fraternal twin sister. Rubbing his eyes, he squinted at the picture, only to find the word “SAMPLE” printed across a stock photo that came with the wallet.
The intensity of the dream woke him up. The details of the dream faded quickly as the afternoon sunlight stung his bleary eyes. He stretched as far as he could in the backseat of his sedan. His erection tented his blanket. Tossing aside his bedding, all he had on was a slightly oversized black hoodie, white socks, and white briefs. Slipping on his shoes, he opened the car door, and scooted outside.
He had parked on the outskirts of town, on the side of the highway, beneath a Bubble-Scrub shampoo billboard. Luckily the highway patrol hadn’t ticketed him while he slept. The highway stretched north and south into the distance. There was not a soul for miles.
Lifting up his hoodie, he whipped out his dick, and jacked off. He wanted to get it out of his system quick, so he fantasized about something he knew would get him off fast. He didn’t like it. It wasn’t his thing. Daniil knew it was wrong, but he just wanted to get it over with. It didn’t take him long to orgasm. Strings of semen shot forth from his five-inch erection.
The dopamine hit him. He wanted to race back home, and be with her just one last time… Fuck. He felt like some damned drug addict. He couldn’t shake the shame, but he needed it so badly. When he was with her, it was liberating. When he had given in to the temptation, he was truly happy. It terrified him.
Relaxing his bladder, he peed. Daniil ran away for a reason. Well, being nineteen, people probably didn’t consider it that at this point. Being away from people helped him feel more normal. A good night’s sleep gave him respite from the incessant arousal. The urges lingered in the back of his mind; whispering in his ear.
Daniil had taken the year off from school to socialize, and hang out with friends before looking into college. He had worked odd jobs here and there, like house or pet sitting. Just a couple days ago, life was normal. Taryn had graduated, found a job, and just moved out on her own. He didn’t have the heart to tell her it was his fault for destroying their family.
What was done was done though. He couldn’t undo it. He didn’t know how or why it happened, but it did. Try as he might to run from it, the desire still followed him. He felt it when he delivered the boxes to Taryn… the strange tingling sensation, and the intense lust. It was the same thing he felt with mom.
Incest was never his thing; not even family role play. With mom, it just happened. He had driven around town the whole day yesterday, wracking his brains, trying to understand it. There was no logic or reason. No coercion. No excuses. They just suddenly wanted to fuck. Cold mechanical sex. So they did it, and they paid the price.