Delicious Nibble - Eve Black Sneak Peeks
Down 'n' Dirty Dog - Unedited Sneak Peek
Meet "Dog"
Dog
The screams echoing in my ears. The smoke suffocating each breath. The oppressive heat sucking the energy from my body. The heart pounding concussive force of music beating against my chest.
Just another night at Down ‘n’ Dirty. Another night that feels like every other night. Another night where I use the sounds, the scents, the sensations of the packed-to-the-rafters male revue club as a way to numb everything else. Another night where I beat the shit out of my body, twisting, turning, thrusting, flexing until I’ve wrung out every last ounce of my energy. Until I’ve exhausted every sense and every emotion. Until I am nothing but the shell.
A shell that will fill up again tomorrow when the morning light breaks over the earth and I wake up hungover, covered in old sweat, lying beside another faceless, nameless piece of ass I fucked into a puddle of orgasmic bliss the night before. Then…I’ll do all the same shit over and over and over again. I will come into the club, pick my conquest for the night from the hundreds of panting women, and then I will kill my routine on stage, giving my all to driving all the bitches crazy. I will move my ass to the music, I will seduce and promise physical fulfillment, and then I will deny all of them what they really want: my sexy ass in their beds, fucking them until they can’t walk straight. Then, when the show is over, I’ll grab the closest bottle of rye, get my cock sucked by some random in the back room, and then take home that one girl I’d picked out for the night. Again and again and again. Night after night after night.
Because the screams, the smoke, the heat, and the concussive force that drives me to shake my dick on stage every night still can’t drown out the screams of agony I hear in my head or bland the acrid taste of smoke that still blankets my tongue, turning all food to ashes in my mouth. It still can’t cool the heat that leaches the life from my very bones, the heat of the “Hell Man” River Valley, poor in resources but fucking overflowing with rebels. And it still can’t stop the blast of the IED that slammed into my chest, driving the breath from my body and leaving me a useless heap of worthless flesh, crawling, spitting, dragging myself across the blood drenched sand to get to the remains of the HUMVEE at the front of the motorcade. The HUMVEE my best friend and brother Marine was driving…the HUMVEE I was supposed to be driving. Because I was the sergeant leading our contingent into the hills for exercises. I was the one who chose to “fuck driving” and instead shoot the shit with my boys in the third vehicle. It took just one moment of me letting my own desire override my duty…and I lost everything.
I was supposed to die that day and I didn’t. I was supposed to slowly suffer and die in the desert sands. But life gave the ultimate “fuck you” and forced me to live, every day, with the consequences. So, I will drink until I am sick with it, I will fuck until my cock gives out, and I will strip down to nothing every night until my body can no longer withstand the beating.
So what if no one blames me for what happened? I blame myself. After my ultimate failure as a leader and a friend, I left the service, found the first place that was hiring hard-bodied fuck ups, and I have been here ever since, where the dick shaking for money and thirsty women are both a reminder of how far I have fallen. I deserve it here.
I am fucked.
The screams echoing in my ears. The smoke suffocating each breath. The oppressive heat sucking the energy from my body. The heart pounding concussive force of music beating against my chest.
Just another night at Down ‘n’ Dirty. Another night that feels like every other night. Another night where I use the sounds, the scents, the sensations of the packed-to-the-rafters male revue club as a way to numb everything else. Another night where I beat the shit out of my body, twisting, turning, thrusting, flexing until I’ve wrung out every last ounce of my energy. Until I’ve exhausted every sense and every emotion. Until I am nothing but the shell.
A shell that will fill up again tomorrow when the morning light breaks over the earth and I wake up hungover, covered in old sweat, lying beside another faceless, nameless piece of ass I fucked into a puddle of orgasmic bliss the night before. Then…I’ll do all the same shit over and over and over again. I will come into the club, pick my conquest for the night from the hundreds of panting women, and then I will kill my routine on stage, giving my all to driving all the bitches crazy. I will move my ass to the music, I will seduce and promise physical fulfillment, and then I will deny all of them what they really want: my sexy ass in their beds, fucking them until they can’t walk straight. Then, when the show is over, I’ll grab the closest bottle of rye, get my cock sucked by some random in the back room, and then take home that one girl I’d picked out for the night. Again and again and again. Night after night after night.
Because the screams, the smoke, the heat, and the concussive force that drives me to shake my dick on stage every night still can’t drown out the screams of agony I hear in my head or bland the acrid taste of smoke that still blankets my tongue, turning all food to ashes in my mouth. It still can’t cool the heat that leaches the life from my very bones, the heat of the “Hell Man” River Valley, poor in resources but fucking overflowing with rebels. And it still can’t stop the blast of the IED that slammed into my chest, driving the breath from my body and leaving me a useless heap of worthless flesh, crawling, spitting, dragging myself across the blood drenched sand to get to the remains of the HUMVEE at the front of the motorcade. The HUMVEE my best friend and brother Marine was driving…the HUMVEE I was supposed to be driving. Because I was the sergeant leading our contingent into the hills for exercises. I was the one who chose to “fuck driving” and instead shoot the shit with my boys in the third vehicle. It took just one moment of me letting my own desire override my duty…and I lost everything.
I was supposed to die that day and I didn’t. I was supposed to slowly suffer and die in the desert sands. But life gave the ultimate “fuck you” and forced me to live, every day, with the consequences. So, I will drink until I am sick with it, I will fuck until my cock gives out, and I will strip down to nothing every night until my body can no longer withstand the beating.
So what if no one blames me for what happened? I blame myself. After my ultimate failure as a leader and a friend, I left the service, found the first place that was hiring hard-bodied fuck ups, and I have been here ever since, where the dick shaking for money and thirsty women are both a reminder of how far I have fallen. I deserve it here.
I am fucked.
