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Christmas with Mom and Dad
Same old bullshit.
The Flight Back to L.A.
It's two days after Christmas. I'm in Denver International Airport watching this old fat bitch eat a cup of yogurt. My blood is boiling.
She has this weird little baby spoon, and these leathery fucking jowls, and this twitchy mouth, and her little tongue keeps jerking around to lick this shit off her lips—it's really fucking disgusting me. But even more disgusting to me is the fact that her mouth has had cocks in it. I wonder what it is, other than age, that turns a mouth a man would want to put his cock in into a twitching hole getting yogurt shoveled into it with a baby spoon.
At some point in this old cunt's life some guy was paying for her dinner, buying her presents, and being as nice and romantic as possible just so he could put his cock in that disgusting fucking hole.
On the plane—
There's a girl sitting next to me with red hair and perfect rock-hard C cups. She can't be more than nineteen and I'd love to know her name so I could see if it fits. I don't ask her even though she'd probably tell me, and it might even lead to a full-on conversation, which might lead to something else, like getting her number or taking her out to dinner. Instead, I just lean back, get a big whiff of her shampoo, and wonder if she could ever possibly know that I'll think about her for the next few weeks every time I jerk off. Probably not.
And I'm out like a light.
I'm still in a weird kind of dream when I get off the plane at LAX so I'm not sure if Trent Reznor walks past me at the Delta baggage claim. I am sure that the redhead is standing by me, and even though I don't have any bags to wait for, she does, so I pretend to.
I look at her luggage tag when she picks up her suitcase. Alyna Janson. It fits.
Satisfied, I go wait for twenty minutes to pay twenty dollars to ride a SuperShuttle back to my apartment in Westwood. Coincidentally enough, Alyna gets on the same SuperShuttle and tells the driver she's going to UCLA, two blocks from my house.
I stare at her without her knowing or caring until we get to her stop. When she gets out I don't make any effort to move out of her way, so she has to brush me with her ass, and she has a nice fucking ass.
When I get off the bus at my own stop I'm glad I never talked to Alyna. When I walk through my front door I wish I had. When I hit my bed, I'm glad I have a girlfriend I can fuck on a regular basis. When I wake up the next morning to a phone call begging me to spend my last days off going to the gym and shopping at Century City with her, I wish I didn't.The Average American Male
Excerpted from The Average American Male by Chad Kultgen
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