Saturday, October 13, 2012

A fine October Weekend

There will be a new story to download tomorrow!


Creepy Song of the Day:

"Nothing she said, not even a note...she's gone with the man in the long coat."

Paranormal Excerpt of the Day:
This is from "Five Time Loser: The Five of Pentacles" in Into Dark Waters
Not Work Safe

“I'm working on some time off. Not guaranteeing I'll get it on a weekend, though.”

“That's all right. I don't work.”

“I'll call you as soon as I get word. They've been running me hard lately.”

Pelton's smile carried over the line. “Ah, that way you have lots of money.” Tom knew he was teasing again. “You can take me out... Daddy.” He'd taken to tormenting Tom with that one since the evening Tom had greeted him with a cheerful “Who's your daddy?”

“Oh, yeah, I'll treat you to whatever you like.”

“Including a nice deep fuck?”

“Now that comes free.”

“I'd do it even without an outing, you know. Because you have the best looking cock I've seen.”

Tom groaned at this. Since he'd sent the pictures of his hard-on, Pelton never failed to mention how gorgeous it was. That always turned him on like a radio. “It's better in person. Fuck first, then outing.” He had his cock in hand again and wasn't sure when he'd laid hold. Pelton's voice was like a drug, making his head spin and his balls tight.

“I can't wait. You still rubbing? Going to come for me, or after I leave?”

“Almost there right now. Keep talking, pretty.”

“Wish I was there to do the rubbing, and to catch it when you did shoot.” Pelton made a soft slurp and Tom cried out, coming just from the thought of his spunk all over that pretty face and pouty mouth. Pelton purred. “Oh, yeah, bet you taste good. I love the taste. I'd lick you all clean.” Tom lay quietly and listed to Pelton's soft gasp. “I'd let you return the fa--favor--ah!”

Tom moaned quietly, imagining what Pelton must look like coming. “Damn...” he breathed.

There was silence on the line for a few moments. “Wow.” Pelton sounded far too perky. “I feel so much better.”

“Yeah. You and me both.” Tom yawned, the day's work and evening's pleasures having exhausted him.

“All right then. I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Night, sweet.” Tom closed the phone, hanging up. He wanted to roll over and go straight to sleep. But he really needed to check in. He did the time conversion and figured Marybeth would still be awake.

She sounded half-asleep herself when she picked up. “Hi, Tom.”

“Hello, Sunshine.” He knew he sounded no better.

“You driving safe, sweetie? Hope you're shut down as wiped out as you sound.”

“Always. You know me. Just about ready to kip, and thought I should call my girl.”

“I know. My two-million mile man. How's the weather where you are? Icy? I saw the warnings.”

“Nah, it's warming up. No ice around here, just miles of wet pavement.” That was the truth. His outside temperature gauge read forty, well above freezing.

“When you gonna be home? I miss you.”

“That's why I called, babe. It's gonna be a couple days. They're keeping me busy.” He heard what sounded like a snore in the background and the sound of the bedsprings creaking. Marybeth was petite, and still thin. She didn't snore and springs never creaked under her weight. She wasn't missing him as much as she claimed, he suspected.

“All right. I'll see you when you get here. I'll make you something nice.”

The urge to call her on her overnight visitor faded fast. Tom acted as if he hadn't heard the man in the background at all. “Looking forward to that. Haven't had a piece of my baby's pie yet this month. Night, sweet.”

“Love you. Bye-bye,” she chirped.

He hung up, feeling strangely relieved over the presence of another in her bed. It hit him that he really didn't mind. Ten years ago he'd have turned the rig around and screamed for Toledo to beat the crap out of the interloper. Now he was just pleased she wasn't sleeping alone in cold weather.


Pelton closed the phone and walked into his chapel. He made shocking obeisance before the altar and then chanted, stroking himself. Five times he orgasmed into the fire, the last wrenched from him with a groan of agony.

“Father Asmodeus, Lord of Lust, hear my prayer and deliver me my desire,” he prayed.

Slowly, deliberately, with no extraneous movements, he reached out his left hand and knocked the semi-trailer off of the model rig.

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