NSFW (( Not Safe For Work ))
IN ADDITION TO WORK, THIS BONUS CHAPTER MIGHT NOT BE SAFE FOR YOUR IN-LAW’S FAMILY COMPUTER, FIRST DATES, WITHIN THE REACH OF SMALL CHILDREN (ANY CHILDREN, REALLY), THE FAINT HEARTED, THE WEAK STOMACHED, WORRIED WILLIES, PETURBED PETUNIAS or THOSE EASILY OFFENDED...BECAUSE THERE ARE EXPOSED BOOBIES AND SQUID-KISSING LESBIANS AROUND THE CORNER. YOU’RE DEFINITELY OF AGE, RIGHT? SWEAR ON THE INTERNET’S LIFE?
PHOTOS FOR YOU Over 250 intimate photographs taken just for you.
JAYSON vs. THE PENNY PORN PALACE (( a bonus chapter ))
ayson had to walk by The PPP a few times before he was ready to go inside. He tried to do it as discreetly as he possibly could. After all, The Penny Porn Palace was hardly a regal apartment building, never mind something fit for royalty. The expense was 249 cents more than a penny but it wasnâ€™t lying about the porn. The PPP had all the dastardly and scandalously naked action that a horny man could ever want. And it was the porn part that made Jayson the most uneasy. That it even existed put a squeamishness in his gut and blush in his face and it just made the whole place feel wrong. Jerking off...to girls without names...performing unsightly sexual acts...just to make some money...or piss off Daddy. What would every other woman he ever met think of his decision to partake in such theatrical absurdity?
CURLING HAIR (7 min.) Sensuous Sammy gets ready in the morning.
SQUID LOVE (9 min.) Jenny and Jenny and two ten-tentacled friends get better acquainted
double-feature: “photos for you” and “water wars”
MANAGE-A-LAPTOP (2 min.) Three videos for the price of one! Free iTunes access. Four skinny girls competing for your attention.
SIBIAN MOBILE DISCO (56 min.) Sexy Sara really gets off when she has her head phones on...will you oblige her?
POSTING UP!! (90 sec.) Lucious Larissa is alone in her dorm and lubed up...she’s in the post, you just have to give her the ball(s).
But desperate is as desperate does and sometimes a man just has to get his dick wet, even if only by the sweat of his own hand. With his nameless and all-too-nosy girlfriend on workers-compensation, and thus home all the time, Jayson had no choice but to be desperate. He couldn’t remember the last time he got a nut off and perhaps his blue balls were swollen to the level of actual, mansized cajones. His all too dismissed dick finally had to redact embarrassment from the dictionary. Jayson approached the small ticket window’s bullet proof glass and paid his $2.50 admission to a smiling man without teeth. Like fat whiskers on a grotesquely old and hideously abused feline, the smiling man had three braided wasps of hair streaming from his cheeks.
Jayson had exactly 10 quarters in his front pants pocket, having scouted the deed as he left Mikhail’s place a dozen times prior to actually biting the bullet. He ran through the silver turnstile before running into a heavy steel door. The door was locked. He wondered if it’d be easier to ask the whiskered man why the door was locked or just jump the turnstile and run to his transfer station. But the first option was only another
admission of guilt. The door buzzed and opened before he made up his mind that there was still time to run. Jayson walked inside. The PPP was as dark and dreary as he had expected, but a whole lot redder. Jayson shuddered to think where the moisture in the air was coming from (he hoped that it was the same mildew that clinged to everything on Compton’s Circle). Nothing more than a painted-red hallway, barely wide enough for two lanes of traffic, The PPP was a path bordered by 100 black doors on both sides. Standing at the theater’s loins, all those booths amounted to little more than a vanishing point. It was a greasy perspective lesson that disappeared into a sleazy horizon. A few door handles glowed neon-red, presumably a busy signal because most of the handles were brightly lit by green. Jayson could count eight red door handles before he took a step. He had no desire to enter an
occupied room. Above each of the the stained-black door-frames was a small 8”x11” glassed-in poster. The varying placards illuminated each room’s scandalous contents. The hallway was dark, but Jayson only had to take a step-and-a-half before catching the gist of the next few movies. Each door was numbered and the art was simple. One line of text bordered in pink dashs and one image bordered in a thin black line. The gist of it: (Door #3) Give It To Granny 2 (An old woman bent over her walker, wig falling off her head, dentures in a jar on the floor, giving in front, taking from behind). (#14) Way Laid Wicca (A disrobing witch with streaked mascara and a broom up her ass). (#19) Don’t Tell Mom I Fucked the Babysitter Dead (A less-than-legal-looking girl sitting cross legged, in tears, fully clothed... headlined by the title font dripping blood). (#23) Black Skin, White Sperm (A rather uninspired personification of an obvious color juxtaposition). (#34) Thorny Threesome Twins (Two identicals, born 34 seconds apart, share a cock with the numerous tiny spikes that grow from their sisterly skin). (#39) Sibian Mobile Disco (A sensuous woman lays in bed, listening to headphones). (#47) Look Out Below! (A pretty thing shot from a taller POV). (#63) Wet T-Shirt Contest 197 (Apparently a blonde chick was the “upset” winner of the 197th annual wet t-shirt contest at Anything). (#78) Extra Thick Terrestrial (An overweight green woman with five gigantic breasts
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poses by a suspect-looking flying saucer). It went on and on and on and on...
to listen to the newly pleased patron get on with his evening, step by deafening step.
Jayson was bewildered. He really didn’t want to waste everything stored up inside of him on a movie that wasn’t right, but the longer he hung around, the more difficulty he’d have getting an erection. His pace mirrored a fast-forwarded wedding procession. He glanced left and right at the pictured women as he moved as quickly as his stubby legs could carry. He stopped to read the titles only if the poster girl struck his fancy.
When the footsteps approached the exit, two feet from the entrance, Jayson slowly closed the stall door. As the door shut, he leaned against it, looking up only to look at anything that wasn’t another man. Directly across from him was a girl that looked like she’d actually talk to him — white trash and wasted. Orange tan. Cigarette hanging from her mouth, camera hanging from her hand. The text promised 250+ photos taken just “for you.” Jayson just knew that her karaoke song was “Cherry Pie.” She could also strip to it... with or without a pole.
Even then, Cumming To Grips seemed too violent and Transpotting made him want to vomit in place, damning the red lights of The PPP all to hell. The end of The Penny Porn Palace’s cylindrical interior was coming into perspective. Jayson was running out of hallway, running out of options. That’s when a door flew open, hitting him square in the stomach. He hid behind it, disgusted by the actions inside. He didn’t want to see the eyes of the man exiting. It was all he could stomach
Standing alone in that solemn hallway, nervous that his alone time was limited, Jayson committed to what seemed realistic. Out of reach or not, “Photos for You” still seemed feasible. The sticky floor tried to change his mind to no avail. She was calling and no one else was looking.