Summer Shorts 5: Summer Shorts, #5

By Huck Pilgrim

Short stories that trace the private lives of residents drawn to a small town named Carnal. This is the fifth volume, the bad boy issue. A parent has a peculiar talent for acquiring models for the adult entertainment industry. He worries he's exploiting the girls until a neighborhood girl comes into his studio looking for a second chance. Meanwhile, a married man who knows about self-destructive behavior meets a young woman in an abusive situation and puts his soul on the line. A generous parent helps super competitive parents keep the girls on the local swim team sharp, while another guy dominates one of the bridesmaids at his brother's wedding. Finally, a maverick school teacher is willing to do anything to help students succeed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Huck Pilgrim Presents
• Release date: Oct 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393458050

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]

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Summer Shorts5_525.jpg

Summer Shorts 5

By Huck Pilgrim

Huck Pilgrim Presents

Summer Shorts 5 © October 2020

by

Huck Pilgrim

First Edition, October 2017

Cover design © 2017 by James, GoOnWrite.com

Editing: Huck Pilgrim

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Summer Shorts 5

In a small town somewhere in the USA . . .

A photographer recruits his daughter's best friend for an adult video, convincing her to suck his cock, rim him, and let him come all over her pretty face. A married man must grope and fuck a beautiful girl to break the hold of a boyfriend who's determined to exploit her. A guy gets the daughter of one of the bridesmaids drunk, and then makes her jack him off in an upstairs bedroom. A maverick school teacher grooms inner city girls in the art of suck and swallow. To satisfy super competitive parents, coach allows the girls on the swim team to suck him off before their heats.

Welcome to Carnal, the little town with the most wicked stories.

Tough Love

1

Maynor Smith powered up the small handheld video camera, rested it on the edge of his desk, and then pointed it at the girl on the couch. His chest felt hollow, his heartbeats reverberating inside him like an old bass drum. It always felt this way at the start, especially with a new girl. He ignored it, knowing it would soon pass. It always did. He framed her smiling face, her delicious body. He loved the prim way she held her knees together. Her parents had taught her to sit like that. Her schoolteachers, her priests, even her classmates had played a part in teaching her appropriate behavior for a girl. He would use all that.

Allison grinned at him.

She was cute. Silky dark hair that hung to her shoulders. Nineteen. He would have to ask her for two forms of ID to prove her age, but with Allison that was merely a formality. He knew exactly how old she was. He'd known her since she was fourteen. She was the same age as his own daughter, and the two girls had been good friends through most of middle and high school. He had coached them on the local youth volleyball team. He knew, for example, that Allison possessed a terrific serve.

Why don’t you introduce yourself? he asked.

Allison nodded. Right here? she asked. She raised both her brows. Clear, bright eyes, the small, upturned nose. A shallow cleft in her chin.

Stand up, he said.

He pointed to show her where another camera was. He had them strategically placed throughout the small studio. It was a loft he had purchased for his wife to do pottery and painting, but the neighborhood had always been a little dodgy, and it had only gotten worse, so she didn’t like to come out here anymore. It occurred to him that he was being unfaithful to his wife, but this was more of an afterthought, not the cause of his anxiety, his discomfort. He didn’t consider this infidelity. A siren wailed in the streets below. He was working.

Allison stood and licked her lips. She was nervous.

Take a deep breath, he said.

She inhaled, swelling her chest, then blew the air out. She was wearing a pair of cutoff denim shorts, a long sleeve shirt cut to bare her midriff. It wasn’t the sexiest outfit, but she’d be out of it soon enough. They were his daughter’s clothes. He’d brought a bag of stuff for Allison to select from. He wanted her to have something clean to wear for her interview.

She cut her eyes to him.

Go ahead, he said. "And remember. These are men you’re talking to."

She nodded her head, a vacant look on her face.

"Men," he repeated firmly.

She raised both her shoulders, twining her arms together in front of her, just as he’d hoped she would. He beamed at her, his dick swelling in his pants. This was Allison’s shy girl act. It was how she related to men, especially men she didn’t know. He’d watched her do it with every new assistant coach he'd ever hired. She’d done it with him, too, of course, but he knew how to get her to give him her best. He wasn’t even sure if she was aware she did it. It probably had something to do with her relationship with her father, a hard driven and demanding man that Maynor knew well.

Leaning back in his chair, Maynor clasped his hands behind his head. Allison went through the little spiel they’d planned out. Fake name (Alice), fake hometown (L.A.) She toyed with her hair and said she’d been a model for a few weeks.

His customers would eat this up.

She finished her speech and then stood twisting her hands together and grinning. He invited her to sit back down and she did. At this point, his competitors would have their young models strip, get on with the show, but that's not how Maynor operated.

Tell me about yourself, he said.

She looked lost.

Your sex life, he added.

The lost look transformed itself to something uncomfortable, but she took a deep breath and grinned. Rubbing her hands on her slender thighs, she looked at a point on the floor and said nothing.

How many partners have you had? he prompted.

Two, she said, her voice barely audible.

She bit her lip and grinned. No, wait. Three, she added, a little louder.

She nodded her head, pursing her lips.

She tilted her head and shot her eyes to the ceiling.

Do blowjobs count? she asked.

He laughed. She explained that she was inexperienced, a little shy. He wondered if this was more of her shy girl act. It didn't really matter. He didn't care. He didn't need the truth. Moving her hands as she spoke, she flipped her fingers through her hair and grew more animated. Allison was relaxing.

Tell me about your last relationship, Maynor said.

She looked around the room as if she were going to bolt. He raised his brows and sat up in his chair, looking for a way to rescue her. She bowed her head, her cheeks reddening. Pulling at her eyebrow, she grinned sheepishly. To be honest, she said, her voice meek. It was in rehab. She took a deep breath and then launched into a story about using heroin, getting strung out, and then dropping out of school her freshman year at college.

He felt relieved.

He already knew about her drug problem. Her father had confided it to Maynor two weeks ago. It was late, almost closing time at the Roma, a small dive bar on the lower eastside. The two of them had been drinking and watching football most of the night. Speaking through clenched teeth, her father said he'd had to kick her out of the house. Maynor had been pretty drunk, but his ears perked up.

Do you want a drink? Maynor asked. Some wine? Her honesty about her drug problem surprised him, but he continued with the illusion that he didn't already know. She wasn't exactly relaxing, but she was investing, and that seemed just as good.

Yes, she nodded, fanning herself with both her hands.

He poured two glasses of wine, but left his sitting untouched on the desk. She explained that her last relationship was with one of the other patients in rehab, and that relationships weren't allowed, so she'd had to leave sooner than expected.

Maynor let her talk. He watched her sip the wine. After the night at the Roma, he'd begun searching for her. He drove past abandoned buildings, graffiti-marred underpasses, and crack houses at all hours of the night. He cruised the local Greyhound and Amtrak stations. It took a few days, but he finally found her in an uptown playground, six blocks from the red light district. She sat with a group of young people, slowly revolving on a merry-go-round, passing a bottle in a brown paper bag between them.

She got to the end of her story and her wine at the same time. Wiping her lips with the back of her hand, she set the wine glass on the floor. She smiled, but her eyes were glum.

Maynor nodded his head sympathetically.

When he'd first approached her in the playground, a young man she was with behaved aggressively, but Allison quickly put him in his place. It was a good sign. A girl on the street often teamed up with a man, but these arrangements rarely proved beneficial to the girl.

My mom, Allison said, isn't speaking with me right now.

That's fucked up, Maynor said. He waited for her to look up. Her eyes were misting, and