Best try on Chrome browser.
I thought that working in the book publishing business would be exciting. After all, you get to read all these amazing stories for free. Unfortunately, for me, I found out the hard way, that most of the manuscripts we are sent are so uninteresting or terribly written, just staying awake, reading them can be a real challenge. Especially where I work since we only publish children’s books. There isn’t a day that goes by without me having to read about talking cows, talking pigs or even talking toilet bowl scrubbers (I’m not kidding about that last one).
“So, what do toilet bowl scrubbers say?” you ask. Well, according to all the books that have them (and there have been many), nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing interesting.
Even my fiveyearold asked, “How do they talk without drowning?” Good question. How come none of those authors thought about that?
If that wasn’t bad enough, we’ve had books on math that were littered with math mistakes, hi books about things that didn’t even happen, English books with rather poor spelling and the worst of the worst, picture books with no pictures. It was getting to the point where I actually thought someone was playing a joke on me. People couldn’t really be that dumb, could they? It seemed like we were returning every manuscript that had been sent to us. Surely there had to be at least one talented writer out there who, for once, could create something that wouldn’t make me want to shoot myself just to have an excuse to go home. Of course, like most people, I didn’t have enough money to quit, so I slaved away, going through the piles of manuscripts (must have been two hundred) stacked neatly on my desk. Rather than just picking the first one, I tried to find titles that might grab my attention.
One by one, I passed up all the titles that had talking cows, pigs, and toilet bowl scrubbers, which left me with only one, which I must say, had, if nothing else, an interesting title for a children’s book, “Night Flights,” which was about a flight attendant who always flew the latenight shift. I had never even heard of a children’s book about this kind of subject matter. Was this just an educational book explaining the work of flight attendants? Or, knowing what I know, was this about a flight attendant dealing with a rude toilet bowl scrubber who refused to fasten his seat belt? It was time to find out, and it didn’t take long for me to realize that this author, Debra Shannon, must have mistakenly sent this manuscript to us or didn’t know we only published children’s books. There was no way my employer would ever publish this book.
For me, it didn’t matter. So tired was I of reading the normal nonsense around here, I decided to read her anyway. Without giving the whole away, I will only share a particular chapter that I found particularly interesting (and hot). Here it is:
It was 1 AM. Karen had just finished a long flight and was returning home. The weather reports had been right. The fog was just starting to appear and in a short time, should start to get thicker. She could already feel her heart beating, anticipating repeating what she had done that last foggy night.
She had just returned home in the early morning hours, showered, and realized that she had forgotten to check her mail. Wearing only a towel and flipflops, she peeked out her front door and seeing how thick the fog was, decided she could make the short walk from her thirdfloor apartment to the mailbox. She quietly made her way down the stairs, feeling the coolness of the air touching her body. She listened, and after hearing nothing, quickly walked past the parking lot and toward the manager’s office where the mailboxes were located.
She unlocked her box and retrieved several letters, going through them as she made her way back her apartment. Not paying attention, she stepped off the curb and stumbled, causing her towel to drop. She almost let out a scream, but managed to stop, not wanting anyone to hear. She looked around nervously as she put the towel back on and continued on her way back. Once back inside, she shut the door and breathed a sigh of relief that no one had seen her. Even so, she also felt a sense of excitement and continued to think about it as she went through the rest of her mail.
After finishing, she took a peek out her window and saw that the fog had actually gotten thicker. Almost instantly, her heart rate increased. She couldn’t believe what she was thinking about doing and tried to talk herself out of it. “Maybe the fog will lift and I can just go back to being boring old me,” she thought to herself. Instead, the fog got thicker and the thought grew even stronger. She looked at her clock and realized most of her neighbors would be asleep. Her mind was made up. She was going to do it.
She peeked out the window one last time, took a deep breath, and let her towel drop to the floor. She then cracked open the front door. Wearing only flipflops, she stepped out, her body shaking, both from the cold and nervousness. She then made her way down the stairs, constantly looking all about her. She could actually feel her heart pounding in her ears as she made her way across the parking lot and to the manager’s office. That’s when she heard a car approaching.
She quickly ducked behind some bushes and waited until the car passed by and disappeared to the other side of the complex. That’s when Karen decided she had had enough excitement for one night and quickly made her way back up the stairs to her apartment. Once inside, she swore she would never take another chance like that again.
And yet, here she was, on another foggy night, ready to take an even bigger risk than she had the first time. She pulled into her parking space and shut off the engine. The fog was not as thick as it had been the previous time, but it was thick enough. She took a deep breath and opened the car door, looking all about her as she made her way to the trunk. One by one, she unbuttoned her uniform jacket and let it fall open. After removing it, she did the same with the blouse underneath and placed both in the trunk. After one more look around, she quickly removed her bra and skirt. Her breathing became heavier as she slid her fingers under the waistband of her nylons and slipped them down, before stepping out of them and placing them in the trunk.
Now naked, she took her flipflops out of the trunk and slipped her feet into them. If she was going to change her mind, now was the time to do it. She wished the fog was thicker, but somehow even that wasn’t changing her mind. After a slight hesitation, she closed the trunk. She took about five steps away from her car, out in the open in the parking lot, and slowly brought one hand down between her legs and gave herself a light rub as once again, she could feel her heart racing. So excited was she, that she was on the verge of climaxing. She wanted to keep rubbing but had to stop as she made her way to the front of the manager’s office. Once there, she, very lightly, started rubbing again, trying hard not to climax. She stopped rubbing just in time, thinking for sure she would climax right then and there. She had become so sensitive down there, that any kind of contact would set her off. Even the feel of the cool air was almost enough.
And so she spent her time walking naked around the complex, fighting desperately not to touch herself. That’s when she heard another car approach. So into what she was doing, she didn’t even realize the fog had thinned considerably and that now hiding behind a bush wasn’t going to be effective. Maybe if she laid down in the grass, she would be low enough, that the driver wouldn’t see her. She was on her stomach, hoping that the car would drive by. Instead, the car pulled in front of the office and stopped.
A young woman got out and went to her mailbox, somehow not noticing the young, beautiful, naked woman lying face down in the grass just a few feet from her. Karen tried holding her breath, frightened of making any noise. Her heart was beating even faster and to make matters worse, the cool moist grass was tickling her in the most sensitive of areas. To make matters worse, the young woman was going through her mail, under the lights. Karen wondered, “Why can’t she just check them at her apartment?”
The tickling was starting to become too much. Karen lifted her hips and tried to use her hand as a barrier between her and the grass. In the process, she accidentally touched herself, and that one little touch was all it took. She fought, desperately, not to give in, but she knew it was too late. She closed her eyes and pressed her hips, hard, into her hand as her body stiffened and trembled. So intense, and long, was her climax, that Karen thought, for certain, that the young woman must have noticed her. She was actually afraid to open her eyes. When she finally did, the woman and her car were gone. Something else was gone too. The fog!
She got up and ran back to her car, hoping that no one would see her. Once there, all she needed to do was open the tru… That’s when the real panic started. “My keys!” Where were her keys? Did she lock them in her trunk… with her clothes? What was she going to do now? How could she explain this? That’s when she remembered. The keys were still in the ignition. Of course. She left it there so she wouldn’t accidentally lock them in her trunk. That’s when another real panic started. “I hope I didn’t lock the car door.” With a shaking hand, she grabbed the door handle and… a heavy sigh of relief.
Karen rushed up the stairs to her apartment. After closing the door, she swore she would never try something like that again. That experience was too scary… too exciting… too thrilling. “So,” Karen thought to herself. “I wonder when the next foggy night will be?”
Epilogue: I’m sure I don’t have to tell you we didn’t publish her . I did send her a kind note, thanking her for her work and mentioning how much I liked it. I also told her about all the horrible toilet bowl scrubber stories we normally have to go through, which, in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have. I swear, I didn’t know she wrote those too.
