Warning: This is a vintage hard-boiled full length, post-censorship erotic novel. This is bad stuff. Both bad meaning bad and bad meaning *good*. The story is so crazy, we can't even hive a proper description. Check out the free sample if you can.
Excerpt:
"Sit your fucking ass down!" hollered Tom Benson. "No son of mine pulls that kind of shit on me!" He slammed his fist at the table. "Lemme tell you something, young man, if you think-"
But it was no good. Charley was up and across the living room. His father could hardly believe his eyes.
Vera lunged forward, tried to stop him. "Listen to your father, Chuck. Please. For my sake." She begged him to listen.
Charley jerked his arm from her hand. "No, Mom, it ain't right. I'm tired of his storming around drunk and thinking he knows it all." He looked back, glared at his father, and opened the door. "What you gonna do now, big man?" He sneered and walked out. He didn't bother to shut the door behind him.
"Big fucking deal," shouted Tom Benson after him. "So you can run away and leave the door open!" He stepped to the frame. "Does that make you a big shot Charley? Eh?" He kicked the door, and it swung shut with a loud crack. "Fucking teenage ass-hole."
In her bedroom at the rear of the house Tina Benson buried her head in a pillow. She'd heard the squabble before, countless times. It always ended the same way, with her brother and her father in a rampage, the house an emotional shambles. She waited for a moment of total silence. Then she tentatively pulled her head out from under the pillow. She knew by the quiet that everything would be OK, at least for a little while. She went back to applying her make-up in the desk mirror.
"Lemme tell you something, Vera," said Tom in a much more reasonable voice, "that son of ours has got another thing coming if he thinks he can parade around here like Prince Charming and then give me a lot of bull."
"It wasn't all his fault," said Vera. She stepped away from the living room window. On her way to the table she retied her terry cloth robe. Still, much of her lovely shape could be been. The long V where the robe hung loose around her pendular breasts framed a sensuous portrait of mellow and soft flesh. When she leaned forward to pour herself coffee, Tom slid a hand onto her chest. "You still love me?" he asked with her tit cupped in his squeezing plam.
Excerpt:
"Sit your fucking ass down!" hollered Tom Benson. "No son of mine pulls that kind of shit on me!" He slammed his fist at the table. "Lemme tell you something, young man, if you think-"
But it was no good. Charley was up and across the living room. His father could hardly believe his eyes.
Vera lunged forward, tried to stop him. "Listen to your father, Chuck. Please. For my sake." She begged him to listen.
Charley jerked his arm from her hand. "No, Mom, it ain't right. I'm tired of his storming around drunk and thinking he knows it all." He looked back, glared at his father, and opened the door. "What you gonna do now, big man?" He sneered and walked out. He didn't bother to shut the door behind him.
"Big fucking deal," shouted Tom Benson after him. "So you can run away and leave the door open!" He stepped to the frame. "Does that make you a big shot Charley? Eh?" He kicked the door, and it swung shut with a loud crack. "Fucking teenage ass-hole."
In her bedroom at the rear of the house Tina Benson buried her head in a pillow. She'd heard the squabble before, countless times. It always ended the same way, with her brother and her father in a rampage, the house an emotional shambles. She waited for a moment of total silence. Then she tentatively pulled her head out from under the pillow. She knew by the quiet that everything would be OK, at least for a little while. She went back to applying her make-up in the desk mirror.
"Lemme tell you something, Vera," said Tom in a much more reasonable voice, "that son of ours has got another thing coming if he thinks he can parade around here like Prince Charming and then give me a lot of bull."
"It wasn't all his fault," said Vera. She stepped away from the living room window. On her way to the table she retied her terry cloth robe. Still, much of her lovely shape could be been. The long V where the robe hung loose around her pendular breasts framed a sensuous portrait of mellow and soft flesh. When she leaned forward to pour herself coffee, Tom slid a hand onto her chest. "You still love me?" he asked with her tit cupped in his squeezing plam.