Free Indecent (The Cage Sessions Book 1) by Skylar Cross

Chapter 1
     
    It's all Damien Cage's fault that the cop
wrote me the ticket. Fuck, I'm lucky I wasn't arrested for public
lewdness.
    After my interview with Damien and his
glorious tattooed chest, all powerful and stony as it glistened in
the sun by his pool, I left his mansion a wet steamy mess of
unfucked girl.
    After a couple of pit stops, I take the ramp
onto the highway heading back home. There I hit a wall of Miami
traffic.
    "Fuck!" I shout.
    Goddamn, this means forty-five minutes before
I'm home. Fuck me!
    Not to mention my AC is shaky. Keeps making
weird noises. I have it on high but I can still feel the late
afternoon South Florida sun doing its best to melt the roof of my
ancient Toyota Corolla.
    But I'm comforted by my new friend on the
passenger seat.
    I reach over into the purple plastic bag. I
put my hand inside and touch him.
    Ooooh, he feels so massive and jiggly! I
sooooo have to get this monster in my pussy... my ass if I'm daring
enough... and fast!
    I had to, okay? Don't fucking judge me.
    I threw away my old dong... long story... and
I had been meaning to get a new one. After my interview with
Damien, I made a beeline to Jared's office hoping for a quick fuck
to release some tension. When that didn't work out, I hit the sex
toy shop over on Grand.
    That's where I got my new electric blue buddy
whose fake little veins are now being probed by my fingers.
    I knew he was the one when I saw him hanging
on his hook all lonely in his packaging. Electric blue. Smooth on
the front side, all veiny on the backside. Big juicy balls. Massive
flared head.
    It was lust at first sight.
    What if I just take him out of his plastic
packaging right here? Nothing wrong with that, right? Nobody will
notice, right?
    Right?
    I reach down to where you twist the package
open. It parts easily. Thank God they don't seal these things like
electronics! No scissors required.
    My fingers do a little walk in the packaging,
past the flared base up to the fake balls.
    Oh God, they're massive!
    My clit is on fire. Shit, I'm going to have
to replace my seat cushion again. Am I normal? Do I think about sex
too much? Do I get wet too much?
    But how can I not think about sex after
sitting down for a half-hour with rock god Damien Cage? Shit, when
Steve told me he was sending me to interview the lead singer of Eon
Sphinx, I had a gash attack right there. Thought I was going to
drip all over Steve's chair.
    "Fuck!" I shout again at the traffic.
    And now I'm sitting here baking as my AC
growls at me.
    What's a horny girl to do?
    I look around.
    Can any of the other drivers see me? How much
can I get away with? God, I wish I had an SUV that rides high off
the ground instead of this oven on wheels with its mismatched
door.
    I squeeze my new buddy some more, moving my
fingers up to the massive head.
    Oh God!
    My fingers crawl up to the top and tap the
fake little slit, imagining the moment... soon... that it will
first part my pussy lips.
    I slam on the brakes, almost hitting the
Impala in front of me.
    Shit, Annika, don't get in a fucking
accident!
    I bought an eight-incher this time. Usually
I'm a seven girl, but after meeting Damien Cage I fucking need
eight!
    Damien Cage! I interviewed Damien Fucking
Cage!
    He's the reason I have to get through this
fucking traffic so I can fuck myself before my mom gets home from
work!
    What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm better
than this. Ever since I took the job at MiamiImproper.com ,
I've met some semi-famous people. No biggie.
    As for actual celebrities, I've met a few
over on South Beach. Talk about pretentious asswipes.
    But Damien Cage.....
    Fuuuuuuuuck!
    He sat there on his outdoor patio nursing a
big pink drink in the largest martini glass I had ever seen. When I
sat down for the interview, he offered me one but I declined.
    Now I'm thinking that wouldn't have been a
bad idea.
    But at the time I feared that a drink would
cause me to lick his abs. God, they are perfect! He must workout
every fucking