Telling Tales Read Online Free PDF Page B

here? What are we all doing here, if we don’t have to be? None of us have jobs that we need to rush back to, and there’s a nice healthy provision been made for us, but even so. Even so, what are we doing in this old house again, reliving old memories?
    “So,” Wade says. “Back to my story?”
    I can see he’s just raring to plunge right into it—which makes my palms inexplicably sweaty and puts my heart somewhere up around my throat—but Cameron pulls him up short. He points out that none of us have any candy, and I’m almost certain he does so for the same reasons I would, if I’d have thought about it.
    To stall Wade from reading out the Story of Probable Depravity.
    But then he comes back too quickly with a bag of actual red licorice, the staple story food of the Candy Club, and then I’m not so sure. Plus he kind of looks at me as he passes by to the kitchen, and there’s something about his expression, something hazy in his bottom-of-the-ocean eyes, as though summer heat has hit the water and everything is melting away.
    And then Wade starts talking, and I don’t know whether it’s Cameron’s strange smoky stare or the words of this obviously filthy story that make me feel suddenly warm and liquid between my legs.
    Though I think the latter has a running start.
    “He thought about licking her cunt when he brought the pair of panties to his face, even though he didn’t want to. He wanted to think about nice things, cute things, because she was a real lovely girl. Her eyes only ever laughed at him kindly, and her sweet mouth seemed to have no edges. She did nice things, like slipping an arm around him when he felt down—despite the fact that no one else ever seemed to know if he was down or not.
    “But she did. And now he was in her room, going through her things. All of her panties and bras and other stuff besides that he’d never suspected she’d have. She had something that looked like a see-through teddy, and when he rubbed it over his cheek it felt liquid-soft, like maybe it would melt if he kept doing dirty things to it.
    “Even so, he ran it over the stiff ridge of his erection—plainly visible through the material of his jeans—and thought about doing that same thing with her inside it. She’d be all spread out on the bed with the silk clinging to her curvy body, and he could get on her and slide his cock over every inch.
    “The thought alone made him sweat. He could feel his stiff cock pulsing against his zipper, and longed to take it out. But then the door sounded down below, and a new kind of feeling sprang through him’’
    I know just what Wade’s perverted character means. A new sort of feeling is springing through me too. Wade pauses to snap off a bit of red liquorice, but other than that he seems completely unfazed by all of the cocks and cunts and, oh my word, I don’t think I can take the heat in here. I think I need to get out of the kitchen, even though I’m not actually in one.
    Where has he gotten this stuff from? Is this real? Something about it sounds it, but I can’t imagine Wade sneaking into some chick’s bedroom to sniff her panties—and especially not this new Wade, all smooth and creamy-voiced and too-slick.
    In truth I can’t imagine anything at all, because the bottom half of me has been dipped in warm honey and I can’t seem to breathe out. I keep breathing in, but nothing’s going back out again.
    And he continues! Kitty is kind of squirming on my lap and I dare not even look at Cameron, but Wade only goes and carries on.
    “Fear. She’d come back early from the poetry recital. Any second, and she was going to climb the stairs and find him here, lurking in her most private space.
    “He did the only thing he could: he opened the door to her adjoining bathroom and slipped inside.
    “However, this action presented a slight problem. Once in there, he had the urge to shut the door tight and lock it—maybe he could tell her he’d desperately needed to