Part 2-The Plot Looks Like it Might Start to Thicken, Only to Turn Watery AgainMr. Manson almost purred as he slid Jay’s shirt up a bit. He’d never been able to convince Jay to go this far before, perhaps things were looking up in that department. In some small part of his mind he was still thinking about the shirt in Jay’s closet, but what was a shirt when compared to Jay’s hot and sweaty body underneath him?
Jay’s eyes were half-closed in silent contemplation. He barely moved as Mr. Manson’s hands peeled back his shirt and fingers deftly snuck into Jay’s boxers. As his fingers met the skin, Jay’s eyes slowly opened wider until he was staring at Mr. Manson completely. “I can’t.” he whispered.
“Why not?” Mr. Manson asked carefully, understanding that at any moment Jay could pull away completely and he wouldn’t get any at all. It wasn’t that he was just using Jay for sex. He thought he truly cared for Jay...but these moments where Jay was willing didn’t come often and he wanted to make the most of it while he could.
“I don’t know, it’d just feel wrong I guess.” A quick glance over to the closet. Mr. Manson understood immediately.
Jay flinched as Mr. Manson’s breath met his ear. “It can’t hurt you.” he whispered. Jay sighed and nodded. “I’ll protect you.” Tongue stabbed out and circled beneath Jay’s earlobe, eliciting a small moan that could only mean that he was weakening. He continued to let his tongue explore around Jay’s ear and neck until Jay stopped acting like a zombie and pulled his head up until they could kiss.
(switching to first person because I suck at third)
JAYI didn’t understand how he could be so nonchalant about the whole thing...but then again, it did sound crazy. Who would believe that a shirt could hold so much power? Let my lips meet his, perhaps by losing myself in him I could forget about the shirt in the closet, the white almost glowing through the cheap wood.
And Marilyn...or Mister Manson as he insisted I call him...all he seemed interested in was shoving his tongue into my mouth and his hands into my pants. Not that I minded, on the contrary, it was a welcome distraction. I didn’t allow it very often because then I got too comfortable and started to think that I was safe. That things weren’t going to change, that I was free to be who I wanted to be.
Pulled him on top of me, I never liked being dominant, especially with him...his eyes were too conscious of the world around him to ever relax enough to let things fall to chance. Yes, he appreciated a good surprise and all of that, but I don’t think he would have wanted to be a bottom unless it was under his terms.
When he wanted to be, he was good at what he did. His fingers unbuttoned my pants swiftly and started to pull them down smoothly, only pausing when he had to lift up my lower body to pull them off completely. My hands clutched tightly at his shirt, wanting just to rip it off of him so that I could feel his cold flesh, the almost completely faded scars rubbing against my chest, my nipples. The fabric gave way and he laughed a bit. I blushed, I didn’t think I was pulling THAT hard.
“Couldn’t wait...” he teased, nuzzling his face down against my stomach. “Don’t worry, I’ll just make another one.” I had forgotten that he made most of his own clothes. Now it didn’t seem as odd that I had ripped his shirt in pieces with hardly a touch.
Laid there in divine ecstasy, trying to deny the yearning that was threatening to overwhelm me. Had to remember that things would only get worse after this point, that I was eventually going to hurt him whether or not I wanted to. His saliva coated my abdomen and then I jumped as his tongue finally reached my cock. Moaned as only he could make me do. But he was content just to tease, leaving only little touches at the head. Squeezed my eyes shut, I could outlast him, I knew I could. But he kept on making little circles that only made me want to shove his mouth down onto it completely and end this before it got much harder to do so.
“Fuck...just do it.” I hissed, my hands tearing into his hair. He descended instantly, his tongue slithering around my shaft. Felt the pressure building, almost lost complete control of my body as he continued to intently explore areas he’d been before. As if it couldn’t get any better...he started to hum. That brought me over the edge, I repressed a scream as I came hard into his mouth. He smiled indulgently as he pulled away, his lower lip shining in the half light of the cheap lamp I’d picked up at some antique shop.
I panted hard, trying to deny the fact that my mind was still reeling from the drinks we’d had earlier. Maybe the drinking contest had been a bad idea. Didn’t have time to protest as he kissed me, tasting of a mixture of myself and alcohol, not altogether unpleasant. Bit on his tongue accidentally as his fingers explored areas I normally didn’t care much about. His hands cold on my thighs as he parted them gently, I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut, thrusting up against him gently. He was breathing harshly too...he’d never been one for patience.
Then his finger was in me and pleasure at its tip. Arched my back in a vain attempt to get him to prod further, to make things that much better. It only made him pull away and laugh to himself. I hoped he wasn’t going to pass out.
He grabbed my legs and thrust in fluidly, roughly, desperately. His lips covered up any attempts that I made to express how much pain I felt. Sure, we’d done it rough before...more often than not actually, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Crossed my legs and arms behind him, pulled him in deeper, deeper, wanted to make this last, wanted to come. Let the passion carry me over into something greater.
Blood filled my mouth as I orgasmed, I hadn’t meant to bite his lip that badly, but it all came over me so quickly. He hissed my name as he came, warmth filled me, I felt infinitely tired. He slumped over me and I drifted off to sleep.
MARILYNJay was curled up as far away from me as possible when I woke up the next morning. My head pounded with the memory of our little drinking game and my lip was swollen where he’d bit me. Remembered vaguely that I had to be somewhere this morning, but I couldn’t think of where.
Stumbled out of the bed and found my shirt lying in tatters on the floor. Well, Jay wouldn’t mind if I borrowed one of his, would he?
Opened his closet quietly. Jay shifted a bit in the bed, but didn’t wake up. The shirt that met my eyes first was the black and white striped one. I didn’t take any of Jay’s warnings seriously because he had been drunk...and he’d been known to start spouting off crazy shit when he was out of it.
Slipped it on. It didn’t feel any different than any normal shirt. Maybe a bit tight, but I only needed to wear it until I got home. Dressed quickly, left him a short little note so he’d hopefully remember that we’d done something, then went home.
By the time I got there I craved a drink. The hangover was almost forgotten. Squinted my eyes and stared at the clock. It was way too fucking early, but I found myself slowly consuming each and every alcoholic beverage left unlocked and unclaimed. So fucking hot, so fucking thirsty. Then my arms started itching, now I wanted a hit of something, and fast. Shit, I was scaring myself, I wasn’t usually this much of a drug fiend. Especially this early in the morning.I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe. Stared at myself in a mirror, I looked so fucking fat. For a brief second I remembered how serious Jay had looked when he told me not to touch the shirt. That was replaced with the urge to snort everything in sight. Almost started crying...why was I suddenly like this?
The door unlocked and Twiggy came in. “Are you okay?” he asked, coming a bit closer.
I stared up at him. Things seemed to gel into something I could recognize. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” I purred, grabbing him and kissing him savagely. Where the fuck had this come from?!