Fanart by Fraylim: Teenage Cindy (Patreon)

This one brings us way back, all the way to those early chapters of Book 1 with David on the run in disguise with Agent Katherine Smith acting as her chaperone and "auntie". Obviously, some of those earliest chapters (written about sixteen years ago!) stretch credibility somewhat. David, a man in his late thirties, passing as an eighteen year old? Unlikely, though I always made sure to set encounters in dimly lit locales to help preserve the illusion.

In the scene below, this isn't exactly what David was wearing - but it should have be!

(Incidentally, revisiting these old scenes is always a bit of a blast for me. I wrote these so long ago, it's like reading the work of someone else. At the same time, I'm also pleasantly surprised that the voice in these early scenes and current ones still feel recognizably that of David.)

***

From Book 1, Chapter 4-2: A Peck on the Cheek

With a sigh I flipped down the sun shade and checked myself in the vanity mirror.

You’re not looking too shabby, baby, I thought, pursing my mouth and slathering on another layer of lipgloss. The gooey-sweet taste tingled on my lips and set them a-glistening. I very carefully touched up my mascara, still awkward with the wand and half-convinced I was about to take an eye out. I fluttered my lashes under the weight. I’ve always had slightly effeminate lashes, long with a bit of curl. One girl I dated for a few weeks, she laughed at their length, even balancing a toothpick across them once after a few pints down at the local pub. “Wow, you’d look just great with a little mascara and eyeliner,” she gushed. “I could do wonder with your eyes!” She might’ve been a makeup artist or some goddamn thing; I can’t even remember her name, only that she had gorgeous eyes herself. They looked awesome looking up at me with my dick in her mouth.

Now, looking at Cindy through half-lidded eyes I saw that long-ago one-night stand proven right. I blinked once, languidly, and concentrated on those beautiful emerald depths. This isn’t a big deal, that gaze insisted. You look good. Those horny bastards in there’ll fall over themselves trying to rent you a room. They won’t be checking out your chin or nose or shoulders. You can do this. Cindy can do this.

Cindy Bellamy gave herself a final wink and flipped the shade back up. She pulled a red lollipop from her purse and slid it into her mouth. “I’ll be back in a sec’, ‘kay Auntie?” she said. She gracefully stepped out of the car, though the long drive must have left those lithe legs cramped as she tottered momentarily before finding her footing. Finding her balance she strode briskly towards the check-in office, purse bouncing off her hip in counter-step to her stride. The click of her heels sounded clear across the parking lot. A brisk January wind pulled at her hair and sleeves, and she hugged herself against the cold. Lights shone behind the curtains of a few rooms, and the muffled sound of a TV turned up too loud reached her ears. Back at the car her mom popped open the trunk and began to pull out their few bags and cases.

Cindy paused at the door to check her reflection, tucking a wayward bang back behind her ear. The blonde-haired girl’s earrings spun and glittered in the glass. The door chimed as she stepped into the office.

The place stank of winter damp and greasy food. Her nose wrinkled as she gingerly stepped around a fat, insolent cat stretched out in front of the door. There were cameras dotted around the room, but only one tracked her movement—the others hung limp and dead from their mounts on the wall. The room was lit by a single, old lamp in the corner, leaving most the room in semi-darkness. She felt a little less confident approaching the counter but took some solace in the dim lighting. The young man behind the counter sat deep in his chair, legs propped up on a banged-up metal cabinet. Attention fixated on an old, flickering screen mounted to the wall, he didn’t even acknowledge her presence.

With the volume set so high, he probably hadn’t heard her entrance. The colours on the screen bled together and contrasted sharply, rendering the show--some kind of music video--in lurid detail. Cindy bit her lower lip, clearly unsure what to do. Her hand hovered uncertainly over the counter bell before pulling back.

She pulled the lollipop from her mouth. “Um . . . excuse me?” Her soft voice went unheard under the loud blare of the television. Cindy nearly stamped a dainty foot in frustration. “Hello?”

If the man was aware of Cindy, he gave no sign of it. He idly poked at a button on the remote.

After glaring at the back of the man’s head for a moment, Cindy slid the lollipop back into her painted mouth. She leaned up against the counter and rested her chin in the palm of her hands. She watched the man for a little longer and then idly reached out and, with a deft flick of the hand, knocked over an overstuffed stationary basket. Pencils and pens cascaded over the counter and rained down on the man’s head.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed, spinning around in his chair and leaping to his feet.

Cindy gave a long draw on the candy in her mouth, languorously rolling her tongue over the sweet sphere before pulling it out with a wet pop. She eyed the candy indolently for a second before her eyes wandered over to the attendant. Her lips parted in a glossy smile. “Hi!” she said, and the fingers of one hand danced in a cute wave. She seemed completely unaware of the fact that her arms, drawn together at the elbow, pushed up her massive breasts and gave an even better view of the cleavage barely hidden by the low V-neck.

The young man’s eyes went wide. “Uh . . . hi!” His eyes struggled between her tits and face, but if she noticed she seemed unconcerned. “What can I, um, do for you?”

Cindy’s eyes sparkled with merriment as she took in his flustered appearance. The poor thing was hardly older than a boy, his unshaven chin patchy at best and his cheap white cotton t-shirt stained with old food. He made an unconscious attempt to smooth down his hair and met with little success. She made a little moue. “Oh, it’s just so annoying!” she said. The boy jabbed at the volume control on the remote, nearly dropping it in his haste. “My Auntie and I,” she said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the car with her lollipop, “we’re driving off into the country but we had some car problems, you know? Now we’re, like, running majorly late? And there’s no way we’ll get there tonight, so we kinda need a room.”

She leaned forward conspiratorially, her breasts crushing up against the counter top, and the boy eagerly moved closer. “I mean, this really sucks. It’s not like I want to head out there in the first place, I’m totally a city girl, you know? And now I’m stuck spending the night with my aunt! Ugh.”

He gave a tentative smile. “That sounds, ah, horrible.”