Summer Shorts 2: Summer Shorts, #2

By Huck Pilgrim

Short stories that trace the private lives of residents drawn to a small town named Carnal. This is volume two, the shame and redemption issue.  A rebellious girl earns herself a hot, humiliating reprieve from her handsome arresting officer. A straight boy swallows his pride to satisfy his own strong desires. A young woman struggling with a breakup finds that only the men's room holds the relief she needs. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Huck Pilgrim Presents
• Release date: Oct 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393675358

Huck Pilgrim

Huck Pilgrim has lived on the streets of New York City, in a communal home for Christians, and on an American submarine out of San Diego. He has washed dishes, made costumed helium balloon deliveries, and robbed designer jeans from department stores. Huck writes gritty stories about submission, blackmail, and coercion. Occasionally he tosses a hand grenade of action and adventure into the mix. Huck's stories are vivid fantasies, exploring the darker sides of submission and exposure. In Huck's stories, the mousy girl becomes suddenly bold and capable, often discovering the hidden slut inside her. The men are handsome, hard-bitten, and cruel, enjoying all manner of debauchery. Follow Huck Pilgrim's latest releases by joining his mailing list. http://huckpilgrim.com/news Contact Huck at [e-mail]

Book preview

SummerShorts2-525x840.jpg

Summer Shorts 2

By Huck Pilgrim

Huck Pilgrim Presents

Summer Shorts 2 © August 2018

by

Huck Pilgrim

First Edition, November 2011

Cover design © 2011 by Huck Pilgrim

Sign up for the newsletter! 

Huck sends out announcements about new work, contests, and prizes and such.

Summer Shorts 2

Bench Warrant

Suppose there was a small town. Suppose it held a little park, and suppose this park had a baseball diamond, some bleachers, a stand of pines. Suppose in the daytime children played on the playground equipment, laughed and ran and hid in the sweet smelling pines.

Now suppose the nighttime.

Suppose a young woman, suppose she was eighteen. Suppose she took a lover. Suppose that for picking this boy, her parents put her out. Sent her to live with family, an aunt maybe, in some little town that held a small park.

Suppose this young lady was about to receive a call.

Suppose the call came from a judge. Or if not a judge, someone who carried the same weight, wielded the same authority. Someone who passed a verdict and you instantly believed their finding. Someone who welcomed you home and made you feel like you belonged.

Suppose this call could only come from someone who lived in a town like Carnal. Suppose I welcomed you to Carnal.

Suppose I made you feel like you belonged.

In a deserted clearing in Carnal Park, a girl lay on a picnic table, the fabric of her light summer dress bunched up and riding high on her waist. Donnell Blackman stood over her, gliding his wet cock between her legs. She cooed a series of indulgent little groans. Felt a cool breeze tickling her bare bottom. Her cotton panties sat discarded, near her face, in exactly the place Donnell had laid them, not long after he’d slipped them from her boyish hips. With her knees almost touching her chest, the girl’s forehead and neck glittered with sweat. All wound up like a cheap tension toy, she loved watching her boyfriend fuck.

This was Gloria Dean.

Donnell was twenty-two and had the lanky, muscled body of a sprinter. He narrowed his eyes and gritted his fine white teeth. His powerful chest glistened with sweat. Pulling his wet cock from between her legs, he straightened his back and gazed down on her.

Gloria knew exactly what he wanted.

She dutifully raised her head and opened her mouth, her grip tightening on the edges of the thick wooden table. She wanted it, too. Extending her tongue, she waited for his juice. Crickets chirped. She squeezed her thighs together and twisted her trunk, trying to satisfy the deep need that still rumbled between her legs.

And then Donnell’s long pole erupted, sending his cream arcing through the air.

She took pleasure in the warm cum her lover splashed across her face. She swallowed quickly and kept her mouth open, extending her tongue like a hungry cat. His briny taste and soft sighs egged her on. She enjoyed the hungry noises he was making. She tried to move her mouth to catch as much as she could, but she couldn’t get it all. He was missing her mouth, spraying her cheeks and forehead. She giggled with delight. Felt the warm dollops of semen land in her hair, the front of her dress, and her bare shoulders and chest. Finally, Donnell’s deep moans gave way to satisfied sighs, and he stopped stroking himself.

In the next instant, Gloria found herself bathed in a harsh, unforgiving light.

The dark park suddenly changed from night into day. She stared at a wet spot on the front of her dress, trying to understand what just happened to the cool night air around her.

A voice shouted: "Police!"

She cocked her head and squinted, holding her arm out and shielding her eyes with her hand. Donnell hiked his shorts to his waist, stuffed his cock into his pants, and broke into a run. Gloria sat up, quickly swinging her legs off the table and pushing her dress into her lap. She briefly considered following Donnell, but she wasn’t sure which way he had gone. Wasn’t sure where her flip flops or purse were.

That bright light disoriented her.

Instead of running, she squeezed her eyes shut, turned her head, and let out a low rolling whimper. Someone raced past her. She heard the slap of fast moving feet, the jangle of a utility belt filled with all manner of equipment.

The light continued to shine in her face.

She looked to see if she could spot Donnell or the person chasing after him, but the bright light ruined her night vision and she saw only the inky blackness of night. Turning back to the light, she stood up. She did this as much to allow her dress to fall back over her hips and cover her bare bottom as to confront the person shining the light in her eyes.

Don’t move, a voice commanded. This was Officer Jones.

Gloria stood still. Her blood thumped in her ears. She squinted, raised her arm, and tried to look past her hand to visualize the man holding the light on her. Who are you? she said. We weren’t doing anything.

Lower your hand, Officer Jones said.

Gloria lowered her hand. She licked her lips and tasted Donnell’s salty cum. With a gasp, she realized her face and hair were still covered with his semen. She raised her hand to wipe her face, to clean herself up.

Lower your hand, Officer Jones shouted. Lower your hand!

His tone