Since very few people follow this blog, I feel it's pretty safe to workshop my chapters here and then delete them when I publish the book. I'll post a couple of chapters a week until the book is done. Let me know if you have any thoughts--if it sucks, let me know. If you like it, let me know.
Thanks, TR--and obv this is NSFW shit
Bruce hadn’t realized how many potholes dotted the road until the Toyota his father had borrowed hit every one on the way into town. He stared out the window as the trees bounced by, looking at anything except his father.
“So…” Bruce started. He stopped, trying to figure out the best way to not piss his dad off even more. “It was nice of Frank to loan us this car.”
He wasn’t even sure how that would go over. His dad had made fun of the shitty little Corolla more times than he could count.
“Yep,” Jim said without conviction. “Real nice.”
They drove on for a few more minutes. Frank didn’t take his eyes off the road.
Bruce shifted in his seat, wanting the ride to be over—wherever the hell they were going. He figured there couldn’t be too much harm in at least asking about that.
“Were’re we going?”
Jim nodded slightly, as if he’d been waiting for Bruce to bring it up. “Two stops. First ones to see Spencer.”
That made total sense. His dad’s truck was at Uncle Spence’s shop. Thankfully, his uncle was the best mechanic in the county making the whole wreck thing a hundred times less complicated than it could have been.
“Cool,” he said.
Jim cleared his throat. “Yeah. He’s gonna loan me a truck until mine’s fixed. I don’t wanna keep driving this shit box.”
Bruce perked up. His friends didn’t mind picking him up, but he needed something to drive to pick up Susan for dates.
And goddamn he needed one. He’d just fucked her twelve hours before, but with all the cock and jizz since then, he needed a refresher in pussy.
“Don’t get too fucking happy.”
The smirk on his dad’s face let him know that he’d hate whatever was about to follow.
“You ain’t driving it.” Jim bumped the blinker lever and took a left into Uncle Spence’s garage parking lot.
Okay. Don’t panic.Bruce considered how to phrase his next question.
“Well, Uncle Spence is a great mechanic. He should have the truck up and running in no time.”
His dad pulled the car into an empty spot right outside the office. The large cinderblock building hadn’t changed for as long as Bruce could remember, right down to the same fading motor oil signs in the office window.
“Right?” he urged.
Jim looked at him for the first time since they’d gotten in the car. He pulled the keys out of the ignition and waited a few seconds as the engine sputtered and shook. When the shudders stopped, he said, “Sort of.