Adams The Rover

1. Auflage 2020
ISBN: 978-1-0983-3273-0
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet/DL/kein Kopierschutz

E-Book, Englisch, 150 Seiten

Theodore 'Teddy' Bukowsky, is a porn and sex addict that works as a security guard known as a 'Rover.' His usual assignments consists of traveling to multiple locations where he is required to stand guard for hours at a time hoping to find fulfillment in his monotonous life. Teddy receives an assignment to stand guard at an adult entertainment company where he develops an unhealthy obsession for a famous porn star named, Jane Heart. During the night shift, Teddy discovers there is suspicious activity where he believes that some of the crew members are trafficking underage girls into the studio. Teddy decides he must take action into his own hands and uncover whatever evidence he can to stop the slavery and sexual exploitation of innocent victims.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Adams, David

Leseproben

Chapter 1:
Good Morning… Not Really I’m sitting at a terminal surrounded by CCTV monitors. As a security guard, I have to keep an eye on everything that is going on. Luckily, the night shift was slow and quiet, just the way I like it. I hardly had to deal with anybody and I didn’t have to invest very much energy into my work. I wasn’t a people person and I would prefer to be lazy, these were the perks of my position. I could see the traffic in one of the cameras as cars are speeding down the street. I received a call on the radio from my watch commander, Beth. “I’m done with my patrol and I’m coming back to the office.” I pick up the radio and say, “Copy.” I watched the monitors and could see Beth walking through the hallway toward the office. As I observed her walking, I became transfixed on her appearance and the motion of her hips. She was beautiful and filled out her uniform nicely. She had dark hair, large breasts that protruded through her blazer, and her body was like an hourglass figure. When she walked toward the office, she let her hair down from her bun and unbuttoned the top of her shirt allowing the cool air to touch her chest. She waved her hand repeatedly back and forth like a fan to help the breeze brush against her skin. She swiped her badge on the door and allowed herself into the CCTV office. I was sitting at the desk and turned to her as she entered the room. “I didn’t realize how hot it is out there. This air conditioning feels nice,” she said as she removed her blazer trying to cool off. I could see the outline of her bra pressed against her white shirt. “You can hang out here and I can go on patrol if you want,” I offered. “No, that’s okay. You can hang out with me since there’s nothing going on at this time,” she said. Beth attempted to cool down in the seat beside me. “Did you see anything on the monitors?” she asked. “Nope, just you walking around,” I said. “You were watching me this whole time?” she asked as if she was flirting with me. I was aroused by her question and said, “Maybe.” She smiled at my response and took a cold water bottle from the mini fridge. She placed the cold water bottle on the back of her neck. I noticed the sweat dripping from down her chest. “I didn’t realize it was so hot out there at this time of night. This heat wave is killing me,” she said. “I think there’s some ice in the break room. I can bring some to you if you want,” I said. “That’s okay, thank you. I appreciate you for offering. Would you help me with my back? I can’t reach it with this water bottle.” When she asked me, I noticed that she bit her lower lip to seduce me. “Sure,” I said. I took the water bottle and walked behind her. I first moved it around her neck and then down her back. “Yes, I like that,” she said as she moaned. I unscrewed the cap and poured a little bit of water down her spine. “Oh my, that actually feels good when you do that. Give me a little bit more,” she pleaded. I continued to gently pour just enough to create a trail down her back. “Do you like that?” I asked her. “Yes, I do. I can feel it go down my panties,” she said as she continued to unbutton her shirt. “Can you pour some down my chest?” she asked. “I’d be happy to,” I said. I leaned down and kissed her on the side of her neck. She continued to moan and turned to me. She reached up with her hand pulling me toward her lips and then we kissed. Beth stood up and faced me. She finished unbuttoning her wet shirt and as she was about to reveal her large milky breasts, a flock of birds burst out of from her chest, flying and flapping in panic, and repeatedly smacked me in the face. “Ahhh, oh my God. What the hell is going on?!” My eyes open and I realize that I’m in my bed. It’s too early to wake up. The sounds of the birds chirping outside my window along with the city traffic acts as a substitute for my alarm that hasn’t even gone off yet. This happens all the time. I can’t move to a different apartment because everything in Los Angeles is too expensive. Gentrification has displaced the working class and continues to spread like a virus. My building is a three-story complex that is run down and ready to be condemned. I felt like the ceiling was going to collapse on me at any moment and I would be lucky if it did because it would put me out of my misery. Every day was the same and I was waiting for some kind of intervention as monotony has sucked the life out of me. When I say that I can’t get up, it means that my body won’t let me move but my brain won’t let me fall asleep. I am restless. You know that feeling when your neurons won’t stop firing and there’s nothing you can do to turn it off? I’m ready to use a hammer or cyanide as a substitute for a sleeping pill. I’m pretty sure I have some form of clinical depression, angst, an irrational an over-exaggerated imagination that eats my brain from the inside out. This is not what normal people experience and I don’t feel normal, I feel broken. I’m still trying to figure out why I even bother waking up in the morning. Is there anything else to do other than just going through the motions, work a dead-end job, and pay the bills? Maybe I just need a vacation or should try something different with my life. For some reason I hope for some kind of change, like a call to action, but that doesn’t exist for this fish out of water that is slowly drowning with the air that it breathes. I know that if I continue to lay here in my bed that I will rot in my depression. It breaks me apart into little pieces like a jigsaw puzzle. The only problem is that most of the pieces are missing and I’m incomplete. I read that if I lay on my back, close my eyes, and think happy thoughts, it will help me fall asleep. Nothing is happening, it’s not fucking working. Happy thoughts won’t give me the ability to fly like Peter Pan. Maybe I could jump out of a window and think of happy thoughts on the way down. Mornings are difficult because my body also starts to feel aroused. One moment, I’m feeling suicidal, the next moment, I’m feeling like a horny teenager; I guess I’m just lonely. I can’t think of anything other than imagining having sex with a porn star or one of those Instagram sluts that takes numerous half-naked selfies in their underwear or a bikini. Narcissism, now that’s depressing. I’m curious to find out why people are so narcissistic to the point where they need to take a photo of themselves every day; those people should kill themselves. What are they hoping to achieve when they are compelled to live in front of a mirror just so other people can like their photos? Are they trying to feel validated? The problem is that I still can’t stop cycling through their photos because it’s a distraction and is basically softcore porn. Now, young girls dance around in swim suits on TikTok while lip-syncing, what the fuck is that about?! At this rate why not become a stripper? I’m sure you’ll make more money doing it! These girls will always feel empty and never be fulfilled. There’s nothing more pathetic than Instagram whores and cosplayers. They lie to themselves about being a thirst trap and strictly want to tease and feel a superficial sense of desire by adding to their follower list. I wouldn’t want anyone to follow me; not online or in real life. Even when I would try to send messages to influencers they would never respond. Meanwhile, the app developers make a billion dollars, I picked the wrong line of business. Interestingly, the app started as a photography blog with several filters and eventually evolved into a social media platform. At one point, I tried to make a connection with one woman named Claudia through Instagram. I saw it as a way to improve my conversation without having to build up the expectation of getting laid. She wasn’t like any of those other girls who wanted attention, there was something different about her. Claudia was a musician who played the classical upright bass and would record a video diary of her rehearsals and performances. She lived in Australia studying music and working with an orchestra. This girl was gorgeous; not like those other girls who needed eyelash extensions or an hour to do their makeup. No, this girl had a style where she could dress in the dark and would still come out looking like a model no matter how nerdy she looked in her large round glasses. Her face was like a poem from a sonnet and I was entranced every time I saw one of her videos. She was an artist in the truest sense of the word who was focused solely on her craft, that’s what made her even more attractive. When someone is so focused and is immersed in their element, it makes them more confident. Claudia wasn’t egotistical either; just a wholesome woman that wanted to be the best at her craft, none of that ghosting shit or trying to build followers that most people worry about. Instead, she was comfortable in her skin and understood how to act like a decent human being. I first reached out to her by “slipping into her DMs,” which sounds strange when all I wanted to do was compliment her on her music. I didn’t know anything about music and I couldn’t carry a tune to save my life. The only thing I was good at artistically was drawing and I never really bothered to pursue it professionally. I guess she appreciated the compliment because she was the only person to even bother replying. The conversation was comfortable given the fact that there wouldn’t be any way for her and I to physically go on a date or have sex for that matter. Whenever you remove sex from...