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Sex Sessions: Uncut (Camera Tales #1)
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Note from the author: This is the first book within a series of standalones. Full length. Intended for audiences 18+ due to sexual content and language.
I’m Saxton Maverick, famous for the size of my…
Then the producers wanted to go a different route, so they started a new project and gave me her…
One look in her eyes and I can tell she has no experience.
Let the sessions begin.
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1 chapter missing due to memory limit
“I’m so jealous of your rack,” she screams over the music while grabbing her drink off the bar, and then winks at Liam, the bartender, laying cash down for him to pick up. “How the hell do you get blessed with size D perky cups and a tiny waistline when you don’t even use them? The universe is cruel sometimes. I’m getting a boob job. I swear it. That dress looks so much better on you. Keep it.”
I look down at the short, tight, black dress that has a cutout pattern surrounding the very low-cut V neckline that twists with the bottom piece of fabric between my boobs, enhancing the visibility of my cleavage, as I wait on Liam to fill my drink order. I have always had a rather large bust size and a small waistline, very small, as in a size zero to two depending on the brand. That’s why people at school have referred to me as a human Barbie since puberty. It’s not the most common body frame, I’m aware, but my mother is a heavier set woman with a large bust as well and my dad used to be scrawny until middle age set in, so I guess I lucked out with the best qualities of the two. That could be one reason they never let me out of their sight. My body type has always made me look older than I am, drawing male attention, and topped off with the platinum blonde hair, well, you get the point. That term, Barbie, actually makes me cringe.
I glance at the neon wristband on her left arm only given to those twenty-one and up. I’m not sure how she got rid of the stamps that mark her age, but she’s always been a partier, so I’m sure she has tricks most would never consider. Meredith was the flamboyant one in high school. Her parents aren’t that strict, so she barely had to give any details at all on her whereabouts to her parents once we started driving. She’s been sneaking into clubs with fake IDs since we were only sixteen. She’s lied about one magical question so many times to guys I’m surprised she even remembers her real age anymore. The number of guys that have committed statutory rape without even being aware is mind blowing. “I take it you successfully seduced a member of staff into looking the other way while he upped your age a few years?”
She places the straw between her lips and sips. “I’ll reward him later. No need to wait for me when you leave.” She winks and then extends the drink to me. “Want some?”
“No. I can’t get caught drinking. I’ll lose my job. You need to be careful. There is an occasional undercover cop in here trying to catch underage drinking.”
She takes another sip and wraps her arm around my shoulders, pulling me to her. She kisses my temple. “No worries, love. My new ID will be in next week. This one is legit, with my face, state watermark, and all. I’m paying out the ass for it. Plus, it’s all about confidence, boo. It can make you or break you.”
“Kambry, your order is done,” Liam says, interrupting us.
I turn to look at him and pick up my tray. “Thanks, Liam.”
I’ve been assigned to Liam all night to fill my drink orders. The manager likes doing it that way. Makes it easier to split tips at the end of the night. I pick it up and get the weight of the tray balanced on my arm so that I can walk in my heels without spilling any drinks or toppling over. “I’ve got to deliver these. I’ll be back after I circulate.”
She places her clutch under her arm and continues to nurse her fruity concoction. “You do that, gorgeous. I’m about to scout myself. I have a man to pick out for you. You better bring your A-game.”
I roll my eyes. “Please don’t be mean. Make it a cute one. Karma is real.”
“Oh, doll face, I would never pick out an ugly man. You just leave that to me. I have to give you some competition. Leaving.”
We split in different directions and I make my way around my assigned section of the club, delivering the orders and collecting tips. With each new person I approach, I put on my best flirty smile as I introduce myself and ask if there is anything they want, occasionally running my fingers through my long, blonde, curled hair as I write down the order on my pad.
I notice the manager wave me over to the wall he’s standing at, watching the club to ensure things run smoothly but out of direct sight. I tuck my now empty tray to my side and make my way toward him close enough I can hear and speak. “Yes sir?”