Waylaid by Ed Lin

Author:Ed Lin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kaya Press
Published: 2012-12-12T05:00:00+00:00

It was raining when I got off the school bus. I held a three-ring binder over my head as I walked down the long asphalt drive to the hotel office. Our Ford station wagon was gone. The office lights were off and the door was locked. Where had my parents gone? I couldn’t remember the last time they’d both left the hotel without telling me. I didn’t have the key, so I went to the maid’s cart room, pushed aside a few boxes of bulk-packaged cleaning agents, and slipped through a flimsy panel of sheet rock. This led to the back of the refrigerator in the kitchen. I pushed hard, and I was back in our living quarters. I shoved the fridge back against the panel and dumped my books on the table. A box of day-old pastries from Finemann’s sat on the counter.

I was hungry, but first things first.

I went into the office, turned on the light, and unlocked the door. I smacked the bell. BING! Open for business. The johns wouldn’t come until dark, but some real customers might come in. You never knew.

I ate two apple turnovers standing over the sink, then brushed flakes of pastry and frosting off of my shirt and into the drain. I went into the living room and watched two episodes of “Voltron.” My parents were still not back yet.

I took a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom and went to my room. I wrapped my cock up like a little mummy and jerked off to a hard-core magazine with words in German. The woman’s head was topped with teased blonde hair, and she was taking his cock in her ass. She must have loved it because she smiled hard — eyes shut, teeth clenched. After I cleaned up, I lay down a little while. When I thought about how tight that girl’s ass-hole must have been, I couldn’t sleep. I was hard again.

Afterwards, no one was back yet so I went to the kitchen and scrambled up three eggs with BacOs for dinner. I took two slices of cold wheat bread from the refrigerator and made a sandwich. It was good.

I was washing the frying pan when I looked out the window and saw a figure approaching from the highway. Even from far away, I could tell it wasn’t my father or my mother. It was a man in a brown coat and a brimmed hat. I shook off my hands and leaned against the kitchen counter. About three minutes later, I heard the office door open with a small woosh and then the BING!

I went into the office.

The man standing in front of me looked as worn out as his leather coat, which was missing most of its buttons. He was about 50, and his eyes were dull. Droplets of water wiggled on the brim of his hat. I knew he wasn’t a john, not only because he didn’t have a car, but because he didn’t look like a man about to get anything good anytime soon.

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