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TAKE-OUT (Part 1)
Title = Mature Audience
Jake Blake “the Rake” from a small New England town meets his cosmopolitan Asian counterpart-cum-fetish.
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GENRE: Erotic Fiction / Contemporary Adult Romance | 9,400 words
* The first of Jess C Scott’s “Asian Fetish” stories.
* This story is written in sets of 3 chapters [trying out something new ;)]. The 3 chapters can be read on their own, or combined together (in sequence) to form a longer story. Part 1 features some smut, “social issues,” and the background of the characters, not hardcore sex (though that is highly likely to appear in the later installments).
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STATS & STUFF:
* First copy sold (on Smashwords) in 2 hours since uploading (zero media mentions) — Dec 6, 2010
Interview: Interracial Romance
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"I just wanted to write you about Take-out Part 1 and how
much I enjoyed it. You really explain these characters well and part
1 made me want to read part 2 right away. You have a great style that
makes me care about the people you write about. I'm looking forward
to reading more of your work along with the story of Jake and XYZ. Thank
you for your wonderful stories!"
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"Jake the Rake," the mean kids at school had always taunted him. Thin as a reed, throughout his tween years, a four-eyed dirty-blond geek, nose always buried in a book.
It was the nickname, "Jake the Rake," that made Jake Blake take on summer and part-time jobs while at school anyway. Mowing the lawn, cutting grass, raking leaves during the fall, washing neighbors' cars--he made $2,000 as a 14-year-old over the summer and first half of the school year (then spent most of that first haul on books, and shopping trips to the mall).
The teasing lessened when he started working out during his sophomore year of high school too. No steroids, no protein shakes. Just focused, intense repetitions of nightly (or bi-nightly) push-ups and crunches, which gave him a lean look, which hinted at the noticeably toned abs his clothes hid, which all the girls seemed to truly love to drool over.
The teasing evaporated during his junior year, when he had all the pretty girls throwing themselves at him, and lining up to offer him blowjobs. Janitors' closets between classes, school buses, in bathrooms, libraries, stairwells, at parties, friends' houses--he could've had his pick anywhere.
He held off for a while, mentally comparing one pretty girl to another. It made him think that all the pretty girls were sluts. He theorized that 9 out of 10 were total whores, and potentially swarming with STDs.
He selected a redhead, the most wholesome-looking "pretty girl." He was a year older. They both felt pressured--not by each other, just by some weird ideas in their own heads--to have the blowjob done, instead of a hookup that consisted of just, like, feeling each other up.
He honestly didn't remember anything about the girl--he just knew that she'd gone down on him at her house one afternoon, when no one was in. They both felt obliged. The message had filtered through from TV or a magazine or school or somewhere that they were supposed to.
The gray blinds were shut. He had stood still, backed up against the wall. He was quite quiet the entire time. She tried deep throating. He came. But it wasn't exactly exceptionally great. The girl was pretty, and tender, and finished the job. Still, she was nervous, so she didn't appear to be enjoying herself much.
He wondered: Did she like the taste, or the smell, or the feeling of someone's private parts pushing into her face? Did she really want to, even though he hadn't forced it upon her?
He felt a little lost, after that experience. Lost as the girls on their knees. It was a never-ending story of young girls losing themselves, such that they were no longer humans with any souls or characters, but pretty girls with fat asses and nice tits.
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