The Challenge 2: Voyeurism Games - Sex Stories

The Challenge 2: Voyeurism Games

... Take care!” Vernon nodded, smiling to Julie, turning to watch her make her way down the steps. Ray had a hot mom indeed. He wondered how she knew Bob or why she was there, but forgot about his curiosity within minutes. Vernon made his way into the vestibule of Bob’s large home. He was greeted by the old, jolly-looking man. He had a small white beard that made Vernon think of Santa Claus – if he were on vacation that is. “Hey pal! Come on in!” Bob greeted Vernon as he entered his home. He always seemed to be in a good mood. “Good morning, sir.” Vernon smiled back, shaking Bob’s extended hand. “I don’t normally see you during the winter.” “I know, I know! This crazy weather eh? Anyway, follow me and I’ll show you what I’d like you to clean up,” Bob explained, motioning for Vernon to follow him. After Bob briefly explained where he wanted the fallen limbs and debris put he told Vernon to join him inside when he had finished, for a chat and perhaps some hot chocolate. Vernon, slightly confused and curious, agreed and went about his way, cleaning up a small section of Bob’s large backyard. Forty-five minutes later, Vernon found himself sitting in Bob’s office, waiting for his hot chocolate to cool. “There you go, pal.” Bob entered the room, handing Vernon a 20 dollar bill. “Not bad for 40 minutes of moving some dead limbs around eh?” “Heh, no sir. Thank you.” Vernon chuckled and replied. “No thank you! Anyway, I wanted to chat with you about the possibility of earning some extra ...

... money that doesn’t involve yard work.” “Oh, ok, well that sounds great sir.” “You just had a birthday recently didn’t you?” Bob asked, sitting back in his chair. “Yes, I turned 18 last week.” “Ha! I knew it was in January. I may be old, but I’m not senile yet!” Vernon chuckled again, “No sir.” There was a brief pause, while Vernon sipped his hot chocolate. “So the extra money. Since you’re an adult now, I will speak to you as one.” Bob said standing and walking to his bookshelf. He rummaged through some magazines, finding the one he was looking for, then plopped it on his desk in front of Vernon before sitting back down. It was a magazine called “Elite” and had a picture of a souped up Mustang on the cover. It had custom rims and a custom paint job. “You’re familiar with that magazine aren’t you?” Bob asked. Vernon nodded, looking toward the old man across from him. “Magazines are usually marketed toward demographics. Old ladies, teenage guys like you, do-it-yourself house repairers, film buffs, teeny bop music lovers, and then guys that like technology, computers, new gadgets, and so on – guys like me to be honest.” Bob explained. “That magazine is marketed toward African-American males in the 18-35 age brackets. It covers music, movies, sports and athletes, cars, and women that marketing surveys and research have deduced black men may like. Now, is there truth in it or is it a stereotype? I don’t know and I don’t care.” Bob explained, reaching across to grab the magazine, ...