Chapter 13

It will come as no surprise to most of the readers that this is not only fiction but bald faced lies. The author has been known to stretch the truth past breaking. He is fully aware that Monster Millions is his own creation and does not exist in reality. He is also cognizant of the fact that this an alternate reality. The names might be real ... the people are not. If your name is in here ... it’s not you ... any of you.

The weekend wasn’t as much fun as I’d hoped. That’s not to say I wasn’t satisfied with the outcome ... I was ... immensely. The itch that no amount of finger play could overcome subsided into a feeling of success.

This is what I was here for. Propagation of the species. Sounds like a chore ... wasn’t. Nature had made it fun. And it tripped my trigger ... lots.

No ... Auntie Barbara seemed to think she was directing the action. Without her suggestions I wouldn’t enjoy it as much as I could if only I would do it THIS way. I’d had it.

I was vocal...

And she said, “That’s a wrap.”

I was in the throes of a fantastic orgasm and didn’t realize what was happening ... until much later.

Now I know where the Bentley came from.

Auntie Barbara FILMED it ... the whole thing. Auntie Babs was a producer, director of some of the best porn ... because it wasn’t porn.

It was romance ... with fucking.

There was no way a judge and jury would believe I was under 18. Mom Nature had produced a nineteen year old body on a fifteen year old kid.

I can’t say I didn’t care ... I did. What pissed me off the most? ... later ... I realized Roger’s wasn’t the only cock.

And I loved it. Hated it, but needed it. One wasn’t enough and they quit too soon.

All through high school, I did my best to satisfy my body. Oh ... I kept up a 4.5 on an academic 4 point. Extra credit ... broke new ground ... but THEY ... and most of us know who THEY are ... kept me off the graduation stage ... no speeches from the school slut.

In college, I trended towards the young and hung. Mostly nerds and geeks. The athletes were a trifle too ‘roidy’ to suit. Promises they couldn’t keep. The academically minded were also into research.

“I’ve been studying the archaeology of the Mayan/Egyptian/Grecian/Indian culture and early unpublished manuscripts and I found this new position,” presaged many new adventures of the amatory kind.

And, “I have this friend...” added more...

So ... eventually ... my latest asked me to go to Vegas.

And I thought ... Marriage. I haven’t tried that.

I looked him over ... young and hung ... and I could love ... maybe...

“Sure,” I said. Why not?

“I like the back roads,” he said.

A couple of hundred miles out of town we pulled into a back country gas station. He went inside I could see conversation and then looks.

He came out, pumped gas, “Pay the man.”

“What?”

“Suck his cock,” my knight in shining armor said.

I did.

Every couple hundred miles.

Then ... in a torrential downpour, finally on a Federally funded highway, I said, “What is going on?”

“Vegas is where rich old men go to find sex...”

“NO!”

So...”That’s why I am standing at the side of the road. and I don’t want to soak your seats.”

“Get in ... the powers that be decreed that I pick you up.”