“I BLAME QUENTIN TARANTINO”

By

B. J. Frazier

Copyright 2020. All rights reserved

Published by B.J. Frazier at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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This book is a work of fiction

Adult Reading Material

Table of Contents

Author's Note

I Blame Quentin Tarantino

The Come Bet - Title

Author’s Note

The Come Bet

About B.J. Frazier

Books by B.J. Frazier

Connect with B.J. Frazier

Author’s Note

This book contains erotic fiction with graphic sex and is intended for mature readers only.

My sincere and devoted thanks go to Thomas Antonson for his editing acumen and his uncanny ability to understand which word I really meant to use.

Please visit my website: bjfrazier.com

I know there are a lot of books for sale, and I thank you for choosing mine.

Happy reading,

~B.J.

Severe Content Warning: B.J. Frazier books contain *plots* and *well-developed characters*

Enjoy!

“I Blame Quentin Tarantino”

I need to tell someone, and you’re the only one I can tell.

I know you probably want to get right to the stroke part, but I need you to know more about me first.

I’ve never done this in my entire life. Paid for sex, I mean. It’s humiliating...and I may do it again.

I was brought up that the man is the breadwinner. He takes care of everything, sets the rules, doles out the punishment, and leads in sex.

And I want you to know that I am that. Dominant, I mean. The alpha-male.

If you met me on the street (which you won’t, because I can’t tell you exactly who I am), you’d be shocked by my story.

I was the quarterback in high school. My girlfriend was the head cheerleader. Hell, I fucked most of the cheerleading squad.

I went to college on a full ride to play football, and I was legacy’d into my frat, where I reigned as president. My smarts carried me through, but my sights were on the millions I’d make by playing in the pros.

Scouts were all over me, and all I had to do was choose my team. Until I played in the--well, I’m just going to say “bowl game”.

I’ve watched the films so many times, I can see it in my head...and feel it in my knee. I have two fucking scars down the length of my knee.

That first cut ripped out my dreams. The second one made sure I’d never play again. To this day, I think that bastard did it to me on purpose.

But that’s another story.

Like I said, I’m smart. I moved on with my life, did the whole American dream thing--I married a beautiful blonde, and we have four kids. Teenagers. Two are in college.

I took my degree and went to--I’m just gonna say “an agency”, where I’m a managing partner at my firm.

Guys like me don’t go to Dominatrixes. We don’t even think about being submissive. Right?

Shit, I forgot to tell you what I look like. I’m six-four, and the scale said two-twenty this morning. Aside from the two fucking scars, I look exactly the same as I did in college--I can even wear the same pair of jeans!

No difference, except now I’m fifty-four. Okay, I’ve got a few grey hairs. And a few wrinkles. But I’m tellin’ ya, I could play today.

Yeah, aside from the fuckin’ knee. I get it.

I’ve got a deep voice, which makes people afraid of me. Maybe not afraid-afraid, but they don’t question me. If I make a suggestion at work, people always run to make it happen. If I tell my wife something, she does it. If I look sideways at my kids, they fall in line. My whole life, this is how it’s been.

I lost my virginity when I was fourteen. You wanna know how? I told the neighbor-lady that she wanted to fuck me. I was six-two at that point, and my voice had already changed. So, I looked and sounded like a man.

She was hot, and married. My mom had sent me over to help her with some dumb thing.

It just sorta happened; I didn’t plan it. My dick had gotten hard, and I wanted to see how much I could get away with. And guess what? She did wanna fuck me!

She loved to be ordered around. I’d read my old man’s Playboys and was able to fake my way through my first time. Only she didn’t know I was a virgin. Imagine that!

So yeah, that’s pretty much how sex has been my whole life.

Oh, I’m hung, too. I reach nine inches when I’m hard. I’m not bragging; it’s just a fact.

And girls talk. You know what I mean. I’m sayin’, I didn’t have to do much to bag ‘em. Yeah, I cheated. C’mon. I just told you what I look like. Tell me what guy in his right mind is gonna refuse offers?

I don’t think I’ve ever been faithful.

I actually think I might have a problem. You know, like a sex addict. I can get hard just minutes after coming. Even at my age!!

But my wife, she’s petite and demure, and just a fucking puppet when it comes to sex.

She’s the love of my life, don’t get me wrong. I know I’d never survive without her. And we’re great together in everything...except sex. I gotta cheat so I can keep her.

I mean, she’s strictly vanilla. If there’s a level lower than vanilla, she’d be that. What is that, even? Maybe the ingredients. Ha! That’s it; she’s just ingredients. She doesn’t even make it to vanilla.

I mean, y’know how you just need to go out and fuck sometimes? Like, skip the chit-chat and just get naked. I’m talkin’ pounding, balls-to-ass fucking, y’know? I can’t do it with her.

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