1. West Coast Games - Part Two: The Free Fall


    Date: 8/11/2015, Categories: Fiction, Author: LushStories, Rating: 90, Source: sexstories.com

    I’ve always thought relationships are a lot like seasons. They have their hot spells and eventual decline of life until things freeze over completely. Part of me was expecting that, even with Roxy. It had been the blueprint for all my past affairs. But it was nearing Christmas and I was still wrapped up in that candy cunt of hers. I felt green and boyish around her, convincing myself that life without her kind of unpredictability would fall flat and become staid. All my previous relationships had functioned at a comfortable pace and none of them had worked out, nor had the girls been able to hold my interest over the long term. With Roxy, every day was like a fresh trip down the rabbit hole. In the beginning, peeling back her layers was exciting. We would lay awake all night talking and fucking, and exploring those little corners of each other’s minds that are so raw you rarely ever let anyone else in. She told me about growing up in Arizona, feeling trapped by the inertia of her life there. Her childhood had been a mess, but then again so had mine. My mother had left my dad when I was young, abandoning us both, and aside from teaching me how to hit the waves on the beach, he'd never had natural parenting skills. In the land of plenty, we'd always scraped to get by and I'd never had any easy handouts. I had worked hard for everything I had: a stable job that brought in big commissions, a nice townhouse in Hermosa Beach, and still enough leisure time to play when I wanted to. ...
    Roxy, on the other hand had been far more scattered with her energies until she’d found her primary vocation - being beautiful. She told me she’d been modeling since she was in her early teens. It was how she made enough money to make the trip out to California to chase her visions of the perfect lifestyle along the coast. She loved the waves, the salty air and chill vibes. I understood the lure of wanting to start over. It made sense to follow the path of opportunities as well. There were lucrative modeling, hosting and acting gigs in and around LA and she was an easy fit on the playground of the beautiful people. One night she brought out her portfolio and we sat on my bed and flipped through the pages of photos. I marveled at all the different faces she could pull off. She was hard, soft, and at times, even bubblegum pink. “It isn’t as fun as you think,” she said, leaning back and lighting a joint. She was warily observing my fascination with her photos, as though she didn’t want me to buy in to the idea too much. Maybe she feared the pressure. “Well, work isn’t always meant to be fun,” I said absently. “That’s why it’s called work.” She handed me the joint and I inhaled deeply. “That’s the whole problem with the world, Leo,” she said. “It needs more fun. People need to understand that they don't have to waste their lives sentencing themselves to this dreary fate they think they deserve.” “You really think people do that without eventually breaking free? That they’re happy ...
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