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My Strange Romance	By : FlameWolf666 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Marilyn Manson Views: 5046 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Marilyn Manson. This fic is a work of fiction and just for fun, no profit will be made from it.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Author’s Note: In which Cherise finds out about a new kink of Manson’s. *cough* I’m sorry.

The Fifth Month

By: FlameWolf

    As her stomach rounded, Cherise found out something very interesting about her idol and lover. He just couldn’t seem to keep his hands or his eyes off the drum tight dome. On top of that, if someone dared to even brush against it; he reacted like a cornered animal and lashed out at the person rather violently. The real cherry on top was the fact he’d also become nigh insatiable. She could be trying to make herself breakfast and Manson would sneak up on her, taking the opportunity the initiate sex without any care to the band that lived in the same house. In fact, their escapades were far from contained to their place of dwelling.
    Whenever she had to leave for any reason, the performer followed her like a lost puppy. This, of course, led to many an encounter in a grocery store or clothing department. In fact, they’d even been banned from more than one for their actions. It was really only a matter of time before the press caught them but she couldn’t really bring herself to really care. The small voice that protested against such public encounters had faded more and more. Eventually, all that was left was the thrill of the act itself; making the sex all the more satisfying.
    In fact, she’d even stated finding small errands to run; knowing full well her fiance would drag her to a secluded aisle to have his way with her. Funny thing was, he’d caught on to it long ago and seemed to fully approve. He’d even started offering locations they could go to run ‘errands’, a smirk on his face that made her blood heat up. Today was no different, his lips finding hers before she even had a chance to fully regain consciousness. “Want to go to Walmart and blow a few minds in the security booth,” purred a throaty baritone in her ear, making her smirk as her blue eyes fluttered open to meet dark brown.
    “That’s a new one. The bike aisle would be best. Barely any foot traffic and sometimes the cameras are broken,” came a response that almost didn’t sound like it had come from her as she began to stretch languidly.
    “What fun is there in that? I want the security guards to catch us, makes it more interesting,” rumbled a lust filled response as the weight shifted on the mattress. Then he was hovering over her, tattooed arms caging her easily. Smirking down at her, the oddly effeminate male rubbed his nose along hers before giving her a lingering kiss; his hands cupping around her small, drum tight dome as he let out a quiet, gruff noise.
    “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, I almost want to just say fuck it and spend the rest of the day in bed with you,” lamented his roughened voice, the evidence of his intense need pressed against her inner thigh.
    Before she could reciprocate, he was pulling away from her; his gaze regretful as he slid off the bed and offered her his hand. Taking the offered appendage, the five month pregnant female sat up and scooted to the end of the mattress. Giving her fiance a gentle smile, she placed her feet on the lush, crimson carpet beneath them and stood up. Cupping the taller man’s cheek briefly, Cherise made her way to the dresser she shared with him. “Wear a skirt. No panties or bra,” came a half suggestion, half order that drew a husky chuckle from her as she pulled out a black shirt that was baggy enough to offer easy access but just tight enough to show off her curves.
    “What kind of a newb do you think I am honey? We’ve been playing this game long enough that I’ve learned the rules. Besides, I think I have a better idea than no panties at all,” cooed the twenty-nine year old as she pulled out a pair of black, crotchless panties. The low rumble that came from her lover was all the response she needed, her grin growing as she slipped them on.
    Once those were on, she was pulling out a rather plain looking, black skirt as well as some matching leggings that stopped at her crotch.. Finally, she was pulling on a pair of knee high ‘combat’ boots; making sure the laces were tight before heading to the bathroom to do her hair. Manson followed close behind, hungry eyes fixed on a rounded ass while the door clicked closed behind them. “Maybe we could take a few minutes to build up a little tension,” husked his voice in her ear as he pressed against her behind, his teeth nipping her neck gently.
    “Brian,” came a half-hearted protest as she leaned into the body behind her.
    In the kitchen below, the band stared at the ceiling with a wide variety of expressions. Ginger, who was currently in Pogo’s lap, simply smiled as he shook his head. The keyboardist under him, however, had a much more perverted smirk on his face; one of his hands travelling to give the drummer’s left buttcheek a squeeze. Twiggy simply let out a low whistle while he cooked, wiggling his dress clad hips in a saucy manner as Tim stared at the switch guitarist in front of him.
    John 5 was staring at the tablecloth, the corners of his mouth downturned as his hands fisted in the white material covering the table. Huffing out a sigh, the reticent Swede reaching across the table to cover his bandmate’s hand with his own. Jolting slightly, the stressed musician gave the man across from him a strained grin as the tension slowly bled from his shoulders. “You’re fine Fiver,” rumbled his thickly accented baritone, dark eyes locking on the other man’s blue ones.
    “Yeah, if Manson was gonna do anything he’d have done it by now,” Ginger assured, squeaking when the keyboardist holding him kissed his forehead.
    “Heh, you’d know all about that Gingy. You’re usually his butt monkey when you aren’t busy being mine,” purred a husky voice, making the percussionist turn an interesting shade of red.
    Oblivious to what was going on with their strange family, the pair suddenly came down the stairs; Cherise giggling loudly as she ran out the door like a rabbit fleeing from a wolf. Their boss followed close behind, a predatory glint in his mismatched eyes as he shot past; the door slamming shut in his wake. The group in the kitchen could only look at eachother before beginning to laugh. “Well, I guess we should prepare for another quick alibi. One of these times, this habit is gonna bite them in the ass,” Jeordie sighed, humor in his deep voice as he served breakfast.
    Giggling as she drove her car to the closest Walmart, the dual haired painter flicked her gaze briefly to her rearview as she pulled into the parking lot. Even when she’d just been a fangirl, she’d never seen Marilyn Manson act like that before. He’d almost been like a man possessed and would have likely just fucked her against his car hood if he’d caught her before she’d driven off. In fact, this was evolving into a kind of chase; especially given the fact she’d split just as he’d positioned his hard-on at her warm slit. It had been a low blow to both of them but well worth the look on his face.
    Throwing the vehicle into park, she was getting out of the driver’s side and throwing the door shut; catching a glimpse of her lover’s car zipping by as she locked it. Knowing she didn’t have much time, the expectant female sprinted toward the pair of automatic doors; slowing as she reached the beginnings of the ever changing crowd that filled the building. A constant stream was coming in and out, giving the illusion of the building never truly being empty. Weaving her way through the press of humanity, Cherise kept a sharp eye out for his easily distinguishable profile as she made her way to the bike aisle.
    Every now and again, she’d see a flash of ebony as she moved from aisle to aisle; making her path as complicated as possible to lessen her chances of being caught. Unfortunately, she was never to make it to her destination. Somewhere in the garden section, he had jumped out from behind a divider; pinning her against a wall as he fairly chewed at her mouth. One hand lifted her right leg as she gave breathy protests, the sound of his zipper going down loud in her ears. “Sorry bout this babe. We don’t have much time,” gritted his strained voice as his tip rested against her entrance. Then he was pushing forward, filling her as he let out quiet groans in unison with her.
    Moving in a slow rhythm, the singer met her eyes as a wide smirk curled his lips; the intercom going off overhead as he began to pick up the speed. Already, Cherise’s cheeks were flushed as soft sounds escaped her; thighs shuddering as he rested his forehead against hers and kept moving. “Good girl,” he rasped, reaching between their heaving bodies to fondle her clit. The reaction was instantaneous, her back bowing as her walls squeezed around him; a quiet gasp leaving her as he bent his neck to rest his lips against her skittering pulse.
    “Thatta girl. I wish we could take out time but...,” grunted the performer, his hips snapping into hers as the tip of him fairly stabbed her cervix. Then he was brushing her button again, getting a bite to his shoulder as his lover tried her hardest to keep her noises inside.
    Groaning as he felt his upper thighs shudder and his balls draw up close to his body, Manson let out a shuddering breath as he gave her clit another brush. Already, he could hear distant footsteps; only adding to the pleasure he felt as he tipped over the sweet edge. Body shaking all over, the singer took a moment to gather his strength before scooping his lover into his arms; running through the Garden section exit just as security became visible in the distance. He had no doubt his home would be getting all kinds of calls in the next few hours but he could only laugh, his lover wrapping her arms around his neck as he made his way to her car.
- 10
- 11
- 12
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My Strange Romance