Teil Zwei
(or: You Can't Rape the Willing)
God, this weekend was busy, and it's not over yet. Tonight I'm going to Battle of the Bands at some crappy little hole-in-the-wall venue downtown. One of my favourite bands will be there, my new favourite, really. I'm excited, and I've got a friend going with me...but that's not what y'all want to hear about, is it? I know you're dying of curiousity about Friday night and me and Clip.
Okay. I'll play nice.
First I went to the opening of the new Hustler store downtown. Larry Flint and Ron Jeremy and Jessica James and Veronica Raquet were there. I got them all to sign a shirt that says "Hustler: Barely Legal" for Amethyst. I LOVE the irony, the humour there. Giving a six year old a shirt signed by a porn guru and a bunch of porn stars...anyway, I also got Ron Jeremy to sign my copy of Orgazmo. God, I was so THRILLED by it all, I was giddy even. Giggling and happy and bouncy and all. So I drop my friend off and go home to grab some clothes and give Amethyst her present. Then I'm out the door and on the road. Fuck, what a shit drive in the rain. But it's only three hours or so, not even the distance I'm used to travelling by car. I'm about an hour out, and he calls. His voice is mesmerizing, the first time I've heard it. I'm still high from the porn store opening, so I probably sound like a crazed crack addict to him, but he's stuttering almost, maybe like he just doesn't know what to say. "I'm just about there," I say, verifying that I'm still coming, hopefully easing his mind. He doesn't say much, but I can tell he's at the club, probably getting a lap dance or even a blow job by some big breasted, skinny little dancer. I hope he's having a good time, but jealousy starts to creep in and I start driving faster. Tonight is MY night, goddammit. And fuck if he's going to have TOO much fun without me.
My directions are clear, and I've never had a problem with maps so once I get in town, finding the place is a piece of cake. It looks just as is should, garish neon and all. Stupid cover charge with a condescending "you could get in free with a guy" bullshit from the asshole at the door. Like I'm just a silly girl for not having accessible cock. Fuck him, I'm going IN to get the cock I want. The cock I've wanted for months now.
I'm wandering around, looking at all the pretty naked girls, trying to decide whether to sit or go to the bar or what. I'm nervous as hell knowing that anyone in this crowded place could be the guy I'm looking for. And even more nervous that I'll miss him. Shit, I was there half an hour before I decided I needed to draw attention to myself. Maybe he's just missed me. Great timing, this decision, because this cute as hell brunette comes up and starts chatting. She's wearing next to nothing, of course, sparkling/sequined pink halter and nearly nonexistent skirt of the same hue. She offers me a private lap dance, thinking, as I'm sure everyone here does, that I'm a lesbian. I tell her I'm more into a little exhibitionism and she grins hugely, leading me by the hand, telling me she's got just the thing. Hell, I just wanted to be seen for a few minutes, to know for sure he knows I'm here. It's not until my shirt is up over my breasts and the brunette is rubbing her nose in my crotch that I realize I'm on the main stage. I think I turned twelve shades of red and purple then, and all but ran off to find a seat in some dark area, wishing to just cease to exist. Apparently I got some tips, though, because the brunette-was her name Anastasia?-came and shoved a bunch of ones at me before heading off to the satelite area. God, she was hot, tall and curly haired and just my type-if I was into girls, that is. Just chunky enough to be perfect, not chunky enough to be gross. Like I am gross. I'm thinking about how cute she is and how yuck I am when a hand touches the side of my face firmly. I try to turn to the other side, but there's a hand there, too. "Don't turn around!" comes the sharp whisper, and I wonder if I'm dreaming. I haven't even made it to my seat yet, much less a dark corner where I can disappear. Immediately, I'm wet, fascinated, scared as hell. But it's GOT to be him...right?
Kisses on my neck, turning to nibbles, turning to full on bites. It almost hurts, it feels so good. I close my eyes and lean back into him, because at this point, even if it's not Clip, I'm enjoying myself. He takes his left hand from my face and reaches for my right, pulling it up between us, behind my back, his cheek against mine, his right hand still holding my head in place so I can't see him. He leads me outside, and god, I want to look, try to turn my head and receive a tight squeeze on my chin, his hard hand digging into my flesh, not letting me see. Here's my dark corner, finally. In the parking lot...so what now? Fuck, fuck, fuck, what have I gotten myself into?
SHIT! That hurt. He threw me over the hood of a car, his left hand now in my hair, pushing my face towards the windshield, so I STILL can't see him. I'm SO scared, so TERRIFIED, what if this isn't him? Was this what I wanted? WHY IN THE HELL DID I WANT THIS? And who the FUCK is this behind me? My pants are around my ankles, and the two thoughts in my head are "oh, god, we're in public" and "why didn't I wear a skirt?" Do I WANT to make myself more accessible? Did I want this?
But you don't care, do you? About my thoughts, You, my dear audience, just want to know what happened. I'll tell you:
He fucked me. There in the parking lot, his hand in my hair, grabbing it so tightly, almost pulling it out, still pushing my head into this car, still having me face the windshield. His cock is HUGE, I swear, the biggest I think I've ever felt, or is that just the force with which he's ramming into me? He hasn't said a word since that initial warning to be still. Is this even his car? His finger in my ass, moving around as if to test if I'm big enough to take him, his cock still ramming into me, slower now, almost liesurely as his finger explores my ass hole. I finally open my eyes, look into the windshield and see a vague reflection. It's so dim, but it's him. A blur, an outline, is that a blue shirt? It's too dark, goddammit!! I want to SEE! His hand in my hair is looser, I think he's just playing now, fucking me while he explores my body with his eyes. So I try to jerk up, suddenly, hoping to catch a glimpse of him finally. The fingers in my hair respond instantly, grabbing tightly, and the hand opening my anus withdraws, and I'm rewarded with nothing but a hard slap across my face. Still not a word. Is he getting a KICK out of this? He runs his fingers over the line of my jaw, and EEEEWWWW! They're the fingers that were just in my ass. OMG, gross!
Harder and harder now, he's increased his speed, he's fucking me with purpose, driven perhaps by my willingness to disobey him, harder and harder and it's hurting, and it's feeling so good, and it's hurting, hurting so GOOD, and I'm sore and I'm screaming, coming so hard, have I EVER had an orgasm like this? And my screams seem to effect him, too, because he's in me so deep, groaning, leaning on me, kissing my neck. His orgasm shakes me, my legs can't even support me and I'm held up only by his hand in my hair and his dick in my pussy. And suddenly I'm not held up by those anymore and I fall, hard, into the wet gravel beneath me. He bends down, puts his hand over my eyes and kisses me full on the lips. His tongue goes in my mouth and I'm kissing him back, I want him to FEEL my passion, how much I love him right now. I'm kissing him with a fervor I've never shown anyone, not that I can remember. "Stay put," he says in that same whisper, the hiss of air forced between what I imagine are clenched teeth. His lips withdraw, his hand, too. I hear the rustle of fabric, the zip of a zipper, and then nothing. I'm sure he's standing over me, watching me, making sure I don't move. After about ten minutes I look up, wanting to see him. It was probably ten, I THINK it was ten. It felt like ten? Hell it could have been two or twenty. I look up and he's not there. Nothing's there but cars and empty parking lot and just about five yards away a couple walking to their car or wherever, giving me sideways glances as if they want to see if I'm okay but don't want to get involved if I'm not. My pants are still around my ankles, my phone on the only dry piece of ground in the vicinity. I'd forgotten about my phone. I pick up my pants and my phone, compose myself. I walk to my car, brush my hair, use my face wipes to clean up a bit and walk back into the club. Where I just sit by the bar for two hours and...nothing. Nothing else happened, and no one introduced himself. It MUST have been Clip...right? Fucked if I know. Fucked if I care. I get one less drink and down it, I've never liked beer, but I'm too...something to care. I don't even go to the hotel. I drove back home and showered and went to bed.
Saturday, I took Amethyst to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and then to dinner at TGI Friday's. My friend came with us. I've got to give him a colour...I've nicknamed his dick "Ceasar", so I'm going to call him Olive. Like a dark pale green.
Olive and I are going to the Battle of the Bands tonight.
Laters
(or: You Can't Rape the Willing)
God, this weekend was busy, and it's not over yet. Tonight I'm going to Battle of the Bands at some crappy little hole-in-the-wall venue downtown. One of my favourite bands will be there, my new favourite, really. I'm excited, and I've got a friend going with me...but that's not what y'all want to hear about, is it? I know you're dying of curiousity about Friday night and me and Clip.
Okay. I'll play nice.
First I went to the opening of the new Hustler store downtown. Larry Flint and Ron Jeremy and Jessica James and Veronica Raquet were there. I got them all to sign a shirt that says "Hustler: Barely Legal" for Amethyst. I LOVE the irony, the humour there. Giving a six year old a shirt signed by a porn guru and a bunch of porn stars...anyway, I also got Ron Jeremy to sign my copy of Orgazmo. God, I was so THRILLED by it all, I was giddy even. Giggling and happy and bouncy and all. So I drop my friend off and go home to grab some clothes and give Amethyst her present. Then I'm out the door and on the road. Fuck, what a shit drive in the rain. But it's only three hours or so, not even the distance I'm used to travelling by car. I'm about an hour out, and he calls. His voice is mesmerizing, the first time I've heard it. I'm still high from the porn store opening, so I probably sound like a crazed crack addict to him, but he's stuttering almost, maybe like he just doesn't know what to say. "I'm just about there," I say, verifying that I'm still coming, hopefully easing his mind. He doesn't say much, but I can tell he's at the club, probably getting a lap dance or even a blow job by some big breasted, skinny little dancer. I hope he's having a good time, but jealousy starts to creep in and I start driving faster. Tonight is MY night, goddammit. And fuck if he's going to have TOO much fun without me.
My directions are clear, and I've never had a problem with maps so once I get in town, finding the place is a piece of cake. It looks just as is should, garish neon and all. Stupid cover charge with a condescending "you could get in free with a guy" bullshit from the asshole at the door. Like I'm just a silly girl for not having accessible cock. Fuck him, I'm going IN to get the cock I want. The cock I've wanted for months now.
I'm wandering around, looking at all the pretty naked girls, trying to decide whether to sit or go to the bar or what. I'm nervous as hell knowing that anyone in this crowded place could be the guy I'm looking for. And even more nervous that I'll miss him. Shit, I was there half an hour before I decided I needed to draw attention to myself. Maybe he's just missed me. Great timing, this decision, because this cute as hell brunette comes up and starts chatting. She's wearing next to nothing, of course, sparkling/sequined pink halter and nearly nonexistent skirt of the same hue. She offers me a private lap dance, thinking, as I'm sure everyone here does, that I'm a lesbian. I tell her I'm more into a little exhibitionism and she grins hugely, leading me by the hand, telling me she's got just the thing. Hell, I just wanted to be seen for a few minutes, to know for sure he knows I'm here. It's not until my shirt is up over my breasts and the brunette is rubbing her nose in my crotch that I realize I'm on the main stage. I think I turned twelve shades of red and purple then, and all but ran off to find a seat in some dark area, wishing to just cease to exist. Apparently I got some tips, though, because the brunette-was her name Anastasia?-came and shoved a bunch of ones at me before heading off to the satelite area. God, she was hot, tall and curly haired and just my type-if I was into girls, that is. Just chunky enough to be perfect, not chunky enough to be gross. Like I am gross. I'm thinking about how cute she is and how yuck I am when a hand touches the side of my face firmly. I try to turn to the other side, but there's a hand there, too. "Don't turn around!" comes the sharp whisper, and I wonder if I'm dreaming. I haven't even made it to my seat yet, much less a dark corner where I can disappear. Immediately, I'm wet, fascinated, scared as hell. But it's GOT to be him...right?
Kisses on my neck, turning to nibbles, turning to full on bites. It almost hurts, it feels so good. I close my eyes and lean back into him, because at this point, even if it's not Clip, I'm enjoying myself. He takes his left hand from my face and reaches for my right, pulling it up between us, behind my back, his cheek against mine, his right hand still holding my head in place so I can't see him. He leads me outside, and god, I want to look, try to turn my head and receive a tight squeeze on my chin, his hard hand digging into my flesh, not letting me see. Here's my dark corner, finally. In the parking lot...so what now? Fuck, fuck, fuck, what have I gotten myself into?
SHIT! That hurt. He threw me over the hood of a car, his left hand now in my hair, pushing my face towards the windshield, so I STILL can't see him. I'm SO scared, so TERRIFIED, what if this isn't him? Was this what I wanted? WHY IN THE HELL DID I WANT THIS? And who the FUCK is this behind me? My pants are around my ankles, and the two thoughts in my head are "oh, god, we're in public" and "why didn't I wear a skirt?" Do I WANT to make myself more accessible? Did I want this?
But you don't care, do you? About my thoughts, You, my dear audience, just want to know what happened. I'll tell you:
He fucked me. There in the parking lot, his hand in my hair, grabbing it so tightly, almost pulling it out, still pushing my head into this car, still having me face the windshield. His cock is HUGE, I swear, the biggest I think I've ever felt, or is that just the force with which he's ramming into me? He hasn't said a word since that initial warning to be still. Is this even his car? His finger in my ass, moving around as if to test if I'm big enough to take him, his cock still ramming into me, slower now, almost liesurely as his finger explores my ass hole. I finally open my eyes, look into the windshield and see a vague reflection. It's so dim, but it's him. A blur, an outline, is that a blue shirt? It's too dark, goddammit!! I want to SEE! His hand in my hair is looser, I think he's just playing now, fucking me while he explores my body with his eyes. So I try to jerk up, suddenly, hoping to catch a glimpse of him finally. The fingers in my hair respond instantly, grabbing tightly, and the hand opening my anus withdraws, and I'm rewarded with nothing but a hard slap across my face. Still not a word. Is he getting a KICK out of this? He runs his fingers over the line of my jaw, and EEEEWWWW! They're the fingers that were just in my ass. OMG, gross!
Harder and harder now, he's increased his speed, he's fucking me with purpose, driven perhaps by my willingness to disobey him, harder and harder and it's hurting, and it's feeling so good, and it's hurting, hurting so GOOD, and I'm sore and I'm screaming, coming so hard, have I EVER had an orgasm like this? And my screams seem to effect him, too, because he's in me so deep, groaning, leaning on me, kissing my neck. His orgasm shakes me, my legs can't even support me and I'm held up only by his hand in my hair and his dick in my pussy. And suddenly I'm not held up by those anymore and I fall, hard, into the wet gravel beneath me. He bends down, puts his hand over my eyes and kisses me full on the lips. His tongue goes in my mouth and I'm kissing him back, I want him to FEEL my passion, how much I love him right now. I'm kissing him with a fervor I've never shown anyone, not that I can remember. "Stay put," he says in that same whisper, the hiss of air forced between what I imagine are clenched teeth. His lips withdraw, his hand, too. I hear the rustle of fabric, the zip of a zipper, and then nothing. I'm sure he's standing over me, watching me, making sure I don't move. After about ten minutes I look up, wanting to see him. It was probably ten, I THINK it was ten. It felt like ten? Hell it could have been two or twenty. I look up and he's not there. Nothing's there but cars and empty parking lot and just about five yards away a couple walking to their car or wherever, giving me sideways glances as if they want to see if I'm okay but don't want to get involved if I'm not. My pants are still around my ankles, my phone on the only dry piece of ground in the vicinity. I'd forgotten about my phone. I pick up my pants and my phone, compose myself. I walk to my car, brush my hair, use my face wipes to clean up a bit and walk back into the club. Where I just sit by the bar for two hours and...nothing. Nothing else happened, and no one introduced himself. It MUST have been Clip...right? Fucked if I know. Fucked if I care. I get one less drink and down it, I've never liked beer, but I'm too...something to care. I don't even go to the hotel. I drove back home and showered and went to bed.
Saturday, I took Amethyst to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and then to dinner at TGI Friday's. My friend came with us. I've got to give him a colour...I've nicknamed his dick "Ceasar", so I'm going to call him Olive. Like a dark pale green.
Olive and I are going to the Battle of the Bands tonight.
Laters
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