A Blue Ribbon Romance by C.M. Nascosta EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: C.M. Nascosta
- Language: English
- Genre: Erotic Science Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Every bull he knew participated in the time-honored tradition of
jerking off for money.
Selling one’s semen had been a mark of adulthood in the small, rural
community where he’d grown up. All of the milking joints had an age
requirement, and visiting was a milestone on par with getting one’s driver’s
license and graduating from secondary school. It was a universal experience
to have that first visit be an anxiety-ridden nailbiter, but it was offset by
what came after — a beer extended by a father, an uncle, a neighbor, a seat
by the fire, and a back-slapping laugh shared. An inclusion into the
previously closed circle of adulthood and community.
“Good afternoon! If you’re here for the orientation, you’re in the right
spot! If you could sign in here and take a seat, we’ll be calling your name
with some forms to fill out.”
There was no neighbor or cousin waiting for him at home that afternoon,
no one to extend a beer and clap him on the back, only this bright-voiced
receptionist. There was paperwork he needed to finish, emails he’d ignored
to come here, and a heating pad for the shoulder he’d had the audacity to
attempt sleeping on the night before. He had shit to do, and he could
already tell that this orientation was going to take entirely too long. This is
what you get for making an appointment the first week. You should have
waited a month or two. They’re going to act like you’ve never jerked off
before, give you instructions. Rourke shifted in impatience at the mere
thought.
Across the room, a clock styled to resemble a weathervane ticked, each
second seeming louder than the one preceding it. The rest of the waiting
room was, like the clock, highly stylized. He had winced the moment he’d
come through the door that afternoon, surprised and more than a touch
vexed that an establishment catering to a hooved population would have
carpeting, instantly imagining the way the long, looped pile might catch at
his soles. But once he had taken a step over the threshold, Rourke realized
the carpeting was not carpeting at all.
Synthetic turf, soft and scratchy and
green; it felt bristly beneath his hooves, with no danger of catching. The
ceiling, he noticed, once he had checked in at the small reception desk, was
painted to look like an afternoon sky — cerulean blue, dotted with puffy
white clouds. Red shiplap on the walls and a cheerful, sunny yellow gerbera
daisy on the receptionist’s desk in an old-fashioned bottle. The exterior of
the door was painted a rich Kelly green, and its small window was
bracketed in framing that resembled the chrome bumper of a tractor
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