“Drafted” by Rich Allan

Did you know that my first novel “Drafted” is now available for cheap on Kindle.

I thought for fun I’d go back and read my book on this occasion to see if it was any good or not..and still funny.  I think it is, but you be the judge.

Over the next few days/weeks/decades I decided to share passages from the book to give you a taste of the story. Let me know if you enjoy or I should find something else to talk about..or if you could care less because you are busy harvesting on Farmville.

Here’s the opening scene from “Drafted.”


Inside the old wooden bathhouse, twelve-year-old Ricky and his best buddy, Jimmy, pressed their faces against an unpainted cement block wall, each straining for position. Everyone eventually found out about the gap in the divider between the men and women’s dressing rooms. Rumor had it that late at night the owner’s son would chip away with an awl at the original settling crack to improve the view—and paid attendance—at Silver Lake, the town’s favorite swimming hole. Jimmy said, “Move over, it’s my turn to watch.”

“Nothing to see…nobody’s there,” said Ricky. “Wait, somebody’s coming…oh my god, it’s Judy.” Every red-blooded American teenager’s fantasy, Judy stood five-foot-two, with long blond hair, deep-blue eyes, and a physical maturity beyond her sixteen years.

There were individual changing booths on the ladies’ side, each with a wooden bench, and a cloth curtain that could be drawn to preserve one’s modesty. Only two stalls were within range of the famous hole in the wall, so why Judy always chose a spot in plain sight, and never drew the curtain, is anybody’s guess. To the young voyeurs, her motivation didn’t really matter.

When Judy arrived, the boys stopped struggling and glued one eye each to the crack in rapt anticipation of the wonders they were about to see.

Judy put down her bag and pulled out her Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini, the very same wonderful creation mentioned in the Brian Highland song playing on the nearby bubbling Wurlitzer jukebox. Beside the catchy ditty and the constant bells of the James Bond pinball machine, there were no other sounds in the bathhouse. Jimmy had stopped breathing. He didn’t want to do anything that would make this lovely specter disappear.

Judy began to undo her blouse—one agonizing button at a time—until her massive white bra appeared. Ricky moaned and Jimmy clamped his hand over his friend’s mouth. If Judy heard anything, she didn’t seem to care. She smiled mischievously, while reaching behind her back to unfasten the three clips that stood between the boys and heaven. In a second, the bra removed, her voluptuous breasts swung free.

But, the show had just begun, because Judy then slid her short shorts down her long tan legs, all the way to her painted toenails. She had already stepped out of her sandals, so when her shorts completed their journey, Judy neatly flipped them into the numbered wire clothes basket.

One item remained—a light blue pair of cotton bikini briefs that hung on Judy’s hips. Drool formed at the corner of Jimmy’s mouth and his eyes stuck out in an Eddie Cantor pop-eyed stare.

As Judy’s briefs headed toward the cement floor, Jimmy sprang into manhood. Some of the world’s greatest achievements—John Glenn’s trip around the planet, night baseball, and the splitting of the atom—paled in comparison to Judy’s ability to make boys into men. She stood there for just a moment, in all her glory—then pulled on her bathing suit and vanished from view.

“Damn,” said Jimmy, shaking his head in disbelief, “If I die tomorrow, I will have lived a full and satisfying life.” Ricky nodded in agreement and wiped the spittle from his chin.


“DRAFTED” by Rich Allan   http://www.amazon.com/Drafted-ebook/dp/B004LGTRSK/ref=tmm_kin_title_0

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