Explicit

                                          

Excerpt from Freak Parade by Marilyn Jaye Lewis
c - 2010 Marilyn Jaye Lewis

[This excerpt is not suitable for all readers. It contains explicit content.] [Return to home]

            “Want some?”

            “I don’t get high anymore. I haven’t for a long time.”

            “Not even a token toke? For old times’ sake?” The joint was already lit and she was passing it to me. “Come on, you can go first.”

            What the hell, I decided, and I took a drag on it. Immediately, I felt my brain exploding. “You bitch. There’s coke in that thing. It’s laced with coke.” It felt exquisite crackling through my gray matter, but it signaled nothing but the worst kind of trouble.

            “It never used to bother you in the past.”

            “But I have to work in the morning. I have a fucking job.”

            The remark caught her mid-toke and she snorted a hearty laugh, choking on the smoke. “Jesus, you’re kidding me. I’ve never heard you say a thing like that before.”

            “I told you I was on my way down.”

            “I guess I didn’t believe you. Here, come on, just one more hit. The night is still young.” She held the joint out to me and in spite of myself, I took it.

            “Only one more,” I insisted – mostly to convince myself. “Snorting is one thing, but smoking this shit makes me way too horny.” Still, I inhaled again. Then a third and a fourth time. The fiery liquid adrenaline overflowed my brain cells and was now cascading quickly down my spine.

            Nita stubbed the joint out in the ashtray and carefully slipped it into her shirt pocket. “Let’s ration this. If I know you, you’ll be wanting more of this later.”

            “You bitch,” I cursed her again – because I knew she was right. I would soon be a slave to my clitoris, to keeping it fueled. I was already overcome by surging hormones. They barreled through my veins on the Marijuana-Cocaine Express, easily overtaking the cocktails and YJ Stinger I’d ingested earlier. A veritable bullet of white hot liquid heat shot straight to my clit now, my entire vulva was on fire. Nita was going to have her ruthless way with me and I’d be there at the helm of the sordid ride hollering out a healthy, “All aboard!” It would definitely be like old times.

            I pulled my satin and lace top off over my head, grabbed her and started kissing her voraciously. “I hate you,” I gasped and then groaned, as she mauled my naked tits, driving me deeper into ecstasy by the nanosecond. “I absolutely hate you.” I kissed her some more. I think solely to keep me from chewing off her tongue she disentangled herself from me and suggested we put on some music.

            “Come on,” I said, grabbing her by one of her powerful arms. “There’s a great sound system in the bedroom.”

            Feeling haute couture-y as hell in my impossibly sexy, flared-at-the-bottom hip huggers and now completely topless, I pulled her down the hall, suddenly quite at ease in my four inch stiletto-heeled mules, as if my feet had melded into them. I was sexy-personified. I was ten miles high and on a sex mission. Poor Muff darted out of our way.

            In the master bedroom, I opted for the track lighting, keeping things deliciously moody. Then I found the remote for the sound system and clicked it on. To my utter delight, the CD player was on shuffle and out sprang Tom Jones’ version of “She Drives Me Crazy.” It couldn’t have suited me more perfectly. In fact, I would have been more than happy to hear it played repeatedly, over and over, for the remainder of the evening while Nita drove me crazy. But then just as suddenly I was no longer interested in the CD player. Nita was tugging down my skintight pants.

            “Christ,” she gasped, clearly as worked up as I was now, “keep the shoes on, okay? Get these goddamn pants off but keep the shoes on. They’re too fucking gorgeous on you.”

            I accommodated her obviously deep need: Off came the skintight pants but the Stephane Kélian mules went back on. I was now wearing nothing but the high heels, feeling that I would probably be very accommodating for the rest of the evening, granting her every wish and obeying her every filthy command. “Let’s fuck,” I demanded impatiently. “Jesus. Come on.”

            Unconsciously, I was already playing with my own tits, tugging mercilessly on my nipples as I stood there, near bursting with anticipation, watching her get slowly undressed.

            For a fleeting moment, an idea darted into my brain. Why the hell am I doing this with Nita, the idea wanted to know; getting ready to let her fuck my brains out when I never could stand her? But I kicked the idea aside and I tugged some more on my tits. By now, my clit was totally stoked. I couldn’t remember ever being this horny with Darryl. I wondered why I had ever given up my career for a man who couldn’t make me as horny as Nita could, and I didn’t even like Nita.

            When she’d finally stripped, I got a good look at the size of the silicone tool she was packing. She didn’t use the customary packing dildo – a bulge of silicone that stays limp; no, she had a serious tool strapped on. “Good lord,” I cried. “Isn’t it uncomfortable to have that thing crammed inside your pants all night?”

            “I’m used to it. It comes in handy.” She was unrolling a rubber onto it. It made me think of little No-Name.

            Almost imperceptibly, my high was coming down a notch.

            “By the way,” I ventured. “What happened to your little friend?”

            “She’s downtown waiting for me. I gave her a key to my apartment a couple weeks ago. Christ, I hope I won’t regret that,” she added as an afterthought, tearing open a small foil packet of lube and smearing it all over the fake dick. “Some of those young ones can get unpredictable when they get jealous, you know.”

            “She was jealous of me?” A new Tom Jones song was suddenly filling the room.

            Nita scoffed loudly over the music. “Why shouldn’t she be? You’re gorgeous and you’re so obviously straight – you have no business trolling in gay bars.”

            “I wasn’t trolling!”

            “You weren’t, huh? Then why were you dressed in something so hopelessly femme? It positively screamed that you needed a good fucking. Now turn around and bend over.”        

            I did as she commanded – the four-inch-high heels causing me to bend way over before I found the edge of the bed – then I held on. I expected to get instantly reamed by that greased-up cock of hers, but Nita surprised me. Instead, her mouth was down there crammed between my legs, her tongue working its way diligently, methodically, into each of my eager holes, first one, then the other.  

            I pushed myself open for her, wanting as much of that tongue as I could get. “God, Nita, that’s perfect.” I wanted another cocktail now, to compliment this feeling of ecstasy. I wanted another hit off that laced doobie, too. I wanted to feel – in the extreme.

            Then her tongue zeroed in on my clit. I planted my feet wider apart, trying to help her assist me in my push to the extreme. The small of my back was arched impossibly high as my clit strove for uninterrupted contact with her tongue. She was licking it like crazy – my stiff little knob of aching flesh. I was close to coming, supremely close.

            Before I could come, though, that particular pleasure was gone. She was standing behind me again. “You want another hit before we continue?”

            God, how come she knew me so well? What was it with all these people from my past, I wondered, who knew me better than I knew myself? “Okay,” I said – a little ashamed for wanting it, for craving it now as much as I was craving the fucking.

            She retrieved the joint from her shirt pocket, lit up, took a quick drag and then passed it to me. I inhaled deeply and held it, feeling the stars exploding behind my eyes and that jolt of white heat in my clit again. “That’s it,” I said, exhaling. “I don’t want to go crazy.” But even I knew I was lying. I took another quick hit off it before passing it back.

            I bent back over the bed then and waited for her in excruciating anticipation, with my ass arched high and my long legs starting to ache in those elongating heels.

            When she was once again behind me, she was back with a vengeance. She took a firm grip on my hips and then plunged the dick in deep, filling my soaking hole to capacity. “Holy shit,” I screamed, trying to inch away or at least angle myself into a more receptive position.

            But she had a tight hold on me and she wasn’t going to let me squirm away. Quickly pulling the dick out, she plunged it back in hard. She had a menacing rhythm going in no time and my hole was trapped in it.

            Christ, now I remembered vividly why I hated her. She fucked too hard and enjoyed reaming me from these impossible angles.

            I tried inching my knees up on to the edge of the bed. Mercifully, she let me do it, but not before smacking my ass hard. Then suddenly the angle was perfect. “Oh god,” I wailed, the sound of my ecstasy taking over the room, overriding even the sound of Tom Jones singing “Sex Bomb.” Oh god oh god oh god. I was reminded of dogs doing it, but I couldn’t help myself; I pushed myself open wide for her. My fingers clutched the bed covers. I bore my hole down on that repeatedly intruding dick.

            I remembered now, I remembered it all – why I would always go back to her even though she drove me crazy. Once you got past her need to overpower everyone, she could fuck you into nirvana.

c - 2010 Marilyn Jaye Lewis [Return to home]