Editor's Note: Chad Kultgen is the New York Times’ best-selling author of "The Average American Male," a controversial 2007 novel about typical dude debauchery and sexual fantasy. It's a novel in the same vein as Tucker Max's nonfiction "I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell." Back in February, Kultgen released a follow-up about grown-up adult married life: The Average American Marriage: A Novel. With his publisher's permission, we've excerpted an early chapter of the novel. PIck up a copy on Amazon or wherever books are sold.
I’ve already interviewed two potential interns—both huge douche bags. They’re arrogant frat guys I could easily see turning into someone like my boss, Lonnie, in ten years. They talk about how exciting the world of business was to them and how much they just want to get in the game so they could start learning what it’s really like outside of an academic setting. I know every word out of their mouths is bullshit. They just need internship credit for school, and the company I work for happens to supply it. They don’t give a shit about anything. Neither do I, really, but I hope I don’t have to choose one of these fucks to be wandering around the office every day asking me if there’s anything they can do to be more productive.
After the second dickhead leaves the conference room, I check my schedule and see that the next candidate is a girl: Holly McDonnel. I look at her résumé, already knowing it will be identical to that of every other college kid I’ll meet with. I notice she’s twenty-one and immediately think about fucking her in the conference room. Even though I have no idea what she actually looks like, I imagine she has a young, hard body, no wrinkles, wearing a skirt that almost reveals the bottom of her ass but not quite. I imagine her telling me that she’ll suck my dick if I can get her the internship. I imagine me telling her that she’ll have to suck my dick or fuck me in my office once a week to keep it. I imagine her agreeing to my terms.
I leave the conference room and head to the lobby, where the potential interns are all waiting. Two more frat douches and a girl. She’s fucking hot. Not exactly what I imagined, but hot nonetheless. I say, “Holly?”
She says, “Yes.”
I reach out my hand. She stands up and shakes it. I say, “Nice to meet you. Come on back,” and let her walk in front of me toward the conference room.
She’s shorter than I would have thought, maybe five foot two, and even though her skirt isn’t as revealing as I previously hoped for, I can tell her ass is a little bigger than I would have thought from looking at her upper body. It’s not big in a bad way at all, it’s big in exactly the right way—just slightly too full for the rest of her body, which is skinny and slight. This makes her ass look even better. But it’s tight. It’s not tight from working out or running, it’s tight from being twenty-one. It’s the kind of ass that makes you grit your teeth because you can’t help thinking about biting it. It reminds me of a slightly better version of Alyna’s ass back when Alyna’s ass was all I used to think about, back when it was great. I wonder if I’ll ever get to fuck a girl with an ass like that again.
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