Tight Squeeze

Tight Squeeze

“It’s 9:39 a.m., and I’m standing on the sunporch looking down on the bay. For what it’s worth, there’s action: sailboats, jet skis, and a couple of cabin cruisers churning for Long Island Sound.

I’m expecting a call from Ray Cohen any minute. He’s the sixty-year-old prick agent that fucked up my contract with Warner Brothers.

The phone rings, and I slide the bar.

‘Danny, my man!’

‘Don’t get friendly with me, cunt. Did you get my money or not?’

‘The money’s in place. We need to pull a couple more strings….’

‘What the fuck does that mean–in place? Get it in my account! I’ve got to say something, Cohen. You’ve got rocks in your head for a guy who graduated from Northwestern. It’s unbelievable. Get it done!’

I slide the bar.

I think he’s got the message. I hope for his sake he does.

I’ve about had it with these assholes taking advantage of my young ass.

My douchebag father is a piece of work, too. Richard hired Cohen and treats himself to Corvettes on my dime, and he’s the one who found this dump we’ll be staying in for the next ten days.

I gotta get back to Los Angeles after that, or I lose the option on my contract.  

I’m eighteen, but I play the thirteen-year-old brat on Tight Squeeze. I’m the little bitch who calls intervention lines, making volunteer counselors believe I’m about to kill myself.

I’m having trouble making the weight, though. You know, passing for thirteen. The show has held a top slot for two years, and I’m just about to get written out of the script.

Never get tired of those blowjobs, though. The starlets can’t line up fast enough.

And then there’s a woman I spotted yesterday from my sun porch.


My telescope brought me straight into her yard, a straight line to her twat while she sat in a lounge chair wearing cutoff jeans.

It was puffy like a balloon animal crawled up her pants. She was sun-browned from the tops of her feet to the tint in her hair. She started doing some yard work: squatting, raking, pruning.

By that time, I was on my way over.

I stopped by her mailbox and gave her a chance to look up and recognize me. But she kept fucking around with flowers.


She laughed like she’d heard the tone a thousand times before.

I guess she was thirty-five.

She recognized me all right. She looked me up and down, knew I was sniffing around for pussy.

‘You’re Danny Eltman.’

Yeah, she’d suck it.

‘That’s the rumor.’

A pickup truck pulled up, and I had to suffer meeting her husband. He was so friendly that I thought they’d both be willing to blow me.

I went home and hung out in Richard’s bathroom for a while.

He’s got a vibrating toothbrush. I took one of the mirrors out of the medicine cabinet, set it on the toilet tank, and leaned it against the wall.

I fussed around with the angle, then I took my cock out and grabbed the toothbrush, hitting my spot until my joint was good and stiff. I jiggled my sack with the opposite hand and continued tapping the sweet spot every few seconds. A dollop of precum oozed out. I jammed it back in my shorts, stepped to the mirror, and then yanked the elastic on my shorts down. Pop! It came swinging out.’

I gave it a few jerks, spunked on Richard’s toothbrush, then dropped it in his mouthwash cup.


I hit the sack and waited for Balloon cunt’s husband to disappear. When I looked, his pickup truck was still in the driveway. How much longer was he gonna hang around? Richard was in the shower. With any luck, he’ll brush his teeth with my jizz.

I check my scope again. The woman is coming out with her husband, and they’re both carrying lawn chairs that they set up.

Then she goes inside and comes out with green drinks. Then he goes in again and carries one of those straw beach bags.

It doesn’t look like the husband is going anywhere soon. Did I mention I need my cock sucked?

She drops her ass in one of the chairs and glances right at me; at least, it looks like she sees me. Fuck it. I toss on a Neiman Marcus skater-boy outfit—I get more blow jobs when I’m dressed in character—and I move it on down the hill. As soon they see me, they start waving like a couple of hillbillies. The husband lifts his drink up and gives me a nod. She’s got her legs spread and flexed, and I can see she does a lot of squats.

‘How’s it going, Danny,’ the husband asks.

‘It’s going fine, sir; you’re certainly lucky to own a home in such a lovely neighborhood.’

‘We love it here,” she says, glancing at her husband, “It’s our second year in the area. We’re from Beaver Falls originally.’

‘Where’s that again?’


‘You know, Joe Namath country,’ adds the husband.

Who the fuck is Joe Namath?

‘Oh, yes, sir. Elaine and Glenn,” I say, pointing to one and then the other with my best prevaricating charm.’

‘See, honey, he remembered. He even remembered to wear his little uniform.’

What the fuck?

‘Well, I best be on my way.’

‘Not so fast, stud,” says Glenn, holding open the beach bag, ‘Do you recognize this weapon?’

‘It looks like a Desert Eagle, sir.’

‘Why his voice is shaking, honey,’ says Elaine, ‘Are you scared, Danny?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘That’s good, now get your ass in the house.’

‘I swear to Christ, I’ll kill you right where you stand, Danny.

Elaine slung an arm over my shoulder and started me for the door. Once they had me inside, Elaine grabbed a tissue and dabbed the tears off my cheeks.

‘Now this is the thing, Danny; I’m going to suck your cock—just like I think we all know you want, only I’m going to do it extra nice. The only catch is…well, if you cum in my mouth, Glenn blows you away.’

She dropped to her knees before me, saying, ‘And your hands stay at your sides. You don’t touch any part of me.’

Glenn pulled back the weapon’s slide and released—a jolt like a hammer to an anvil.

I didn’t feel my shorts going down.

Her mouth clamped around my shrunken sack.

I couldn’t cancel the sensation as she gem-polished my balls. She paused for a moment, and I felt the extra suction as she swallowed her saliva and then continued to maul my bag. She released it and clamped onto my cock head, witchy tongue lashes. The next moment, my prick disappeared down her throat, suctioned off by her warm deluge. She pushed aside the last of my resistance, and I blew my load in symphony with a deafening pop that took the top of Elaine’s head off.”


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