Fantastic Tales: Volume 2

Copper Cliff

Seventeen-year-old Andrew uses girls for sex, and Julie is his next target. Will he treat her like the others, or will she find a way into his heart?

Dark Romantic Fantasy

Andrew looked up at the sound of giggling.

'Can you believe it?' his sister told her friend as they passed his door. 'He told me he likes me. I feel like I could fly.' Renee's bedroom door banged shut behind them.

Andrew snorted to himself and switched on his iPod. Girls. They had no idea. Guys wanted one thing and one thing only. He should know, he was seventeen and had already fucked ten girls. In fact, he could go for one right now.

He rested back into his pillows, turned his music up and pulled his cock out. 'Bring me the Horizon' pounded in his ears as he masturbated.

'Mmmm, Julie,' he groaned—his next target: tall and slim, blond haired, with tits so perky they could have pierced holes in her school shirt. Rumour said she was still a virgin. Not that it mattered. A wet cunt was a wet cunt no matter if it had been already poked or not.

He froze at a pounding at his door. The doorknob twisted, the lock bending at every turn. 'Andrew!'

'Jesus.' He shoved his erection back in his pants, anxious the lock would break. He popped out his earphones and stumbled to his feet as he struggled with his fly. 'What do you want?'

'You said you were going to mow the lawn,' she shouted through the door.

'For fuck's sake.' He unlocked the door and yanked it open, but only partway so it concealed the bulge in his pants. 'I said I'd do it, and I will.'

It was midday, but his mother was still dressed in her robe, looking every bit of her forty-five years, cigarette pinched between her fingers, lank blonde hair with its dark roots spilling in an oily mess over her shoulders. He really wished she would see a hairdresser. It annoyed him. Maybe if she took better care of herself, Dad would still be home. Then again, the years of alcohol abuse and smoking had shrivelled her into something a simple cut and dye job couldn't fix.

'Oh, yes,' she snarled. 'Just like you said you would the weekend before and the weekend before that and the weekend before that.'

'I said, I will do it.'

'Do it, now.'

'Oh, get out of my face, you ugly cunt.' And he slammed the door shut.

He dropped onto his bed with an angry grunt, shoved his earphones back in, turning up the volume some more before unzipping his fly again.

Ahhhh, Julie.

                                                                            *

'Come on, Andrew,' Julie giggled. 'Class is in.'

'Then accept.'

She tried to open her locker, but he pressed his full weight against it. Andrew was so cute: six-foot, sandy hair, blue eyes, with a smile that could make her heart flutter. He was smiling now, deep dimples in his cheeks.

'Mr Dooben hates tardiness,' he said. 'Do you really want to get into trouble just because you won't go out with me?'

Biting her lip, she curled her fingers through the end of her braid. 'Okay.' I can't believe I'm doing this. And with Andrew Beatman! She smiled up at him, and it took all her effort not to burst into giggles.