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SPINNING AROUND (Incest Story.05)
Title = Mature Audience
48-year-old Deryk Wolf’s not-so-little girl shows her appreciation
for his support of her passion for fashion.
Spinning Around features in the short story collection, Incestiable.
LENGTH: 7,200 words
* * *
REVIEW (on Incestiable):
"This is a nice sampling of Jess C Scott's incest erotica. There's
a fair amount of variety within the erotic incest genre. [Ms. Scott]
can weave a vivid tale of lust and love, bringing together lovers for
casual sex or eternal devotion."
-- Traction_Bob / B&N
"I am sorry to hear about the red tape with the major retailers.
It’s probably safe to say that incest (including consensual), is hitting
too close to home for many, so let’s not even acknowledge this topic:
it’s too real. Anyway, thank you for everything you do and
have stood/stand up for. (Gotta run, wife is calling for me!) LOL Sincerely,
A Female Reader/Customer PS: My Dad is an awesome kisser! ;-) And….."
-- E-mail from a female reader/customer / Jess's
"Greetings, I've downloaded Crunk and Spinning Around
from Google Play. After reading those two books I visited your website.
I'm also a Virgo and a fan of the song Savage Garden - I
Want You. Keep up the good work and I'll be keeping an eye out for
your provocative writing."
-- Folk/Bluegrass Fan, USA (June 2012 / email)
* * *
with Jess on Incest
* * *
[ Sunday, 10:56 a.m. ]
The room was slowly spinning around, when Deryk Wolf opened his eyes.
A couple of moments, before he remembered where he was—a couple of moments,
before he felt a slight sting on the surface across his knuckles.
Hollywood Slots Hotel & Casino.
Meeting Aimee later in the day.
Surface cuts, back of the hands, from the asphalt last night, 12am cold
and in the public carpark. The cuts would make nice scars.
The 48-year-old didn’t feel like he was approaching fifty. It was supposed
to make one feel older, wearier, with doctors’ warnings about the risks
of developing heart disease coming at full speed.
Deryk had ridden into NYC on his red-and-black midsize Monster Ducati
bike, checked into Hollywood Slots, where one of the cocktail waitresses
had had her eye on him all night long, as he went around the different
slot machines on the casino floor.
“Amy,” said her nametag. She sure looked like Aimee, with the chocolate
brown hair and caramel highlights, about the same age and height as
Deryk’s 21-year-old only daughter. He had to look twice, to make sure
it wasn’t Aimee at her second job. The cocktail waitress had killer
tits that were busting out of her tight, white top. If she could, she’d
be showing off her perky ass and matching tight pussy too.
Deryk was in New York to show his support for Aimee—she’d made it through
the auditions for Fashion Icon, where would-be designers would compete
for the chance to showcase their collection at NY Fashion Week, with
the first place winner walking away with $100,000 to use as seed money
to start their own fashion line.
Aimee Wolf, she always said she’d call it. Just like Deryk
He walked into the casino to gamble away the images in his mind. Everything
seemed to happen in that past week. It seemed like he hadn’t been living
all this while, only existing in a bubble he didn’t even know he was
* * *
[ 3 Days Earlier ]
Deryk had gone into Aimee’s room to borrow her PC, since the other PC’s
printer had run out of ink, and he had an invoice to print out.
He thought of her everyday while she was at NYC. The house seemed rather
quiet without Aimee around. A little less vibrant, missing the energy
and life she carried around with her.
Deryk snuck a peek at her blue Pilates floor mat, feeling the blood
rush to his groin. The items were always so strategically placed—surely
Aimee was aware? The mat before the full-length mirror—lacy underwear,
in shades of hot pink, white, and black—always either in a clump nearby,
or neatly hanging at the edge of the tabletop, like she’d just washed
them and put them out to dry.
* * *
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