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Tainted Love	By : FlameWolf666 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Marilyn Manson Views: 3468 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Marilyn Manson or anything affiliated with him or the band. I don't know any of these famous people in real life and none of this story happened. This is fiction and just for fun. I make no profit from this.

Chapter List
- 21
- 22
- 23
Author’s Note: ‘We can’t stop here! This is bat country!’ - Raoul Duke (Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas)
Really excited to announce that this fic has reached over 1,000 views on adult fanfiction. Thanks for all the reads! It really makes me feel as if I’m writing something people wanna read. Please keep reading and I hope you enjoy the other parts of the trilogy as well.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Close Distance
Meagan cowered in her room, staring at her locked door from her position on her small bed. Outside the small portal, her father ranted and raved about her to her mother. “The child is obsessed with the fucking anti-christ! Look at the person she’s listening to! The picture on the album is of him being crucified for fuck’s sake! I won’t stand for such blasphemy in my house!” he roared, making the shaking child flinch.
All around her, Marilyn Manson posters peppered her powder pink walls. All his current CDs adorned her nightstand, all turned to face her. She even had a few outfits in her closet that matched some of his costumes. Her hazel eyes filled with frightened tears, the 16 year old moved some strands of her brunette hair behind her ear. The singer was her only buoy in a sea she would have drowned in long ago. His music was the only thing that kept her going some days. The songs that poured out of her stereo 24/7 were a stark reflection of the inner turmoil she felt and it served as an outlet for her feelings. The thought that it could be taken away from her honestly scared the shit out of her. In this dark world, Marilyn Manson was the only person she truly had to lean on besides Amanda.
All of a sudden there was a series of loud bangs on the door and she found herself fighting the urge to crawl under the bed and hide. Holding Kathy against her chest, the young teen closed her frightened eyes and burrowed her face into the plush’s fur. The loud bangs turned into crashes as her father began to throw himself against her door, the fragile wood cracking easily under the onslaught. Whimpering and tightening her hold on the plush canine, the young teen shook and waited for the inevitable.
All too soon the door gave with a loud crash, allowing her bear-like father to enter the room. The enraged man began to rip posters off her walls to her horror. Then he moved to the CDs on her nightstand, picking them up one by one and stomping down on them with his boots. Finally he moved the closet, ripping noises being heard as soon as he entered. All the frightened female could do was sob and shake as her whole world was destroyed before her eyes.
When he was done in the closet, the huge man stomped out into her bedroom and glowered down at her. “I’ve been far too lenient with you,” he hissed, his belt making a slithering noise as he pulled it free of his belt loops.
“Dad, please,” she gasped out, pressing her back against the white wall her bed was flush to.
“Naughty, evil little girls need to be punished. You know that by now,” he snarled, snapping the brown leather strip between his hands. A gratified smiled curled his lips as his daughter flinched in fear.
“No, dad please,” she begged, almost trying to disappear into the wall with how hard she was pressing into it. Her fear filled hazel eyes fixed on the belt between his meaty hands, following it as he released in with one hand and raised it. Closing her eyes tight, the teen braced for impact as the belt came swishing through the air towards her. To her utter shock, instead of the expected blow, she felt a very gentle pair of fingers brush her already sore cheek.
Groaning, Raven opened her eyes blearily; not quite sure where she was for a few seconds. All she could make out through her blurred vision were three dim shapes by her bed, one of them standing right by her head. Clearing her bone dry throat, the groggy female slowly sat up; trying to focus her vision enough to make out who exactly was in the room with her. As her vision slowly began to clear, memories of just where she was and what happened came back in a rush.
With a fearful squeak, the battered female backed as far into the hospital bed headboard as she could. The blurred shape that was standing by the bed moved towards her swiftly, causing her to flinch and whimper. “Raven, its just me sweetie,” came a gentle, very familiar baritone as a hand came to rest tenderly on her bruised, sore cheek.
“Manson?” she gasped out unsurely, her vision finally clearing enough to make out who was in the room with her. Said singer was free of make-up and staring down at her with worried, mismatched eyes. The dark circles under his eyes told her he hadn’t slept that night. All of a sudden she found herself wrapped in a tight embrace as the rock star burrowed his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply, as if to reassure himself of something.
“Yes,” he rumbled succinctly, a faint trace of rage under his calm voice. His hands moved restlessly on her back as he held her close, as if he was afraid she would disappear.
“How on earth did you get here? When did you get here?” she asked, confusion and relief swirling in her voice.
“Stopped in the closest city and grabbed an overnight flight, got here fairly early in the morning. The rest of those assholes are on their way too,” he replied, his voice sounding only slightly more agitated as he pulled back to look her in her eyes.
“The cops came in while you were asleep and wanted me to let them know if you wanted to press charges,” Amanda said from her right, watching Manson with narrowed, distrusting eyes. The singer’s head shot up, his brown and whitish blue eyes boring into hers; rage whirling within their mismatched depths.
“Of course she fucking is. Look what the asshole did to her,” he snarled, a muscle ticking in his cheek from his barely contained anger. A firm hand on his bicep made the rock star whirl to face Johnny who held up his hands to shield himself.
“Don’t you think that should be her decision Brian?” the actor asked almost timidly, not liking the anger that swirled in the rock star’s gaze. To his surprise, instead of blowing up, the singer merely turned to Raven with a neutral mask in place.
“You’re right Johnny. What would you like to do Raven?” he asked softly, his tone and manner completely different. Raven looked up at the super star with a thoroughly stunned look.
“I... I don’t wanna press charges,” she replied quietly, lowering her head and bracing herself for the storm. Instead of the anger and yelling she expected, she felt a gentle hand lift her head by the chin until her eyes met his.
“Why, after all he’s done to you,” he whispered, concern in his eyes as he rested his pale forehead against hers.
“Would you be able to send your father to jail, no matter how justified?” she replied softly, tears beginning to roll down her battered cheeks. Manson startled as if shocked, pulling back to look in her hazel eyes.
“I suppose you have a point,” he conceded reluctantly, releasing her to sit in a chair and pinch the bridge of his nose.
“The asshole knows where the hotel is so it isn’t safe for you there. Its looking like I’m gonna have to piss some people off and cancel the rest of the tour,” the singer murmured, his voice strained and worried.
“Absolutely not,” Raven hissed, throwing the thin, white hospital sheets off herself and lowering herself off the bed. Her pale face went bright crimson as she realized that she was in a very small hospital gown that barely came down to her knees and wasn’t tied very tightly in the back. So Amanda and Johnny were getting a rather unintentional view of her panties. Stomping harshly on the instinctual panic that began to rise within her, the determined woman stomped up to the shocked looking rock star.
“Raven...,” he began in a slightly hoarse voice, beginning to get to his feet.
“No, you sit down and listen to me Brian Hugh Warner,” she hissed, using his full name for emphasis. With each word she advanced on him slowly, causing the singer to sink back into his seat out of sheer shock.
“Am I supposed to just placidly sit by and let you put your tour on hold for me? My father has no idea where I live as far as I know. We should be fine if we go back to the house. They should be done fixing it by now,” Raven sighed with a semi-exasperated look on her face as she glared down at the stunned singer. Her pale arms crossed over her chest as she tried to ignore the embarrassed noises Amanda and Johnny were making.
“How do you know Dita hasn’t told that scumbag where you live in order to get some information out of him?” he asked softly, concern all over his pale face as he looked up at the woman before him. His answer seemed to throw her off a bit as she staggered in place and a slightly concerned expression knitted her brow.
“I don’t have anything to do for awhile, why don’t Jerome and I stay with them until you get back?” Johnny suggested quietly, doing his level best to look anywhere but at Raven. All he could see was the side but that was far more than enough. Manson only sighed in response, worry still clouding his face as he turned to look at the actor beside him.
“Do either of you know how much this is asking of me?” he whispered in a tortured voice, suddenly reaching forward, grabbing Raven by the waist and burying his face in her slightly chubby tummy.
“Raven, there won’t be a moment where I won’t be worried. Every second not by your side I’ll be wondering if you’re safe. If the asshole has found you again,” he whispered gruffly, rubbing his cheek along the thin material covering her stomach.
“M-manson,” Raven gasped, awe filling her voice as she rested a cautious hand on the top of his head. His black hair felt like silk under her fingertips and she barely suppressed a small smile.
“Brian, I can give you my word that Jerome and I won’t let anything happen to her,” Johnny assured, a grim look on his lightly goateed face. Manson turned his head and met the star’s gaze with tortured eyes, not releasing his hold on Raven or removing his cheek from her stomach.
“Can you guys gives us a few moments alone,” he husked out, his hands tightening on Raven’s back slightly.
“What?! Absolutely not!” Amanda snarled, shooting to her feet behind Raven and glaring distrustfully at the rock star.
“Brian...,” Johnny began, only to stop when the singer shot him a pleading look.
“Please...,” Manson whispered, almost too quiet to hear.
“Just a few minutes. We’ll be right outside,” the actor conceded, gently taking the still sputtering Amanda by the arm and firmly leading her outside.
“Like Hell I’m gonna leave her alone with that fucking asshole!” the curly haired woman hissed, her green eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Amanda, his girlfriend just got beaten up. I’m sure he won’t do anything horrible to her,” Johnny assured, not even giving the pair a backward glance as the door slowly slid shut.
The silence that stretched between the two was almost a living thing, causing Raven to feel slightly uncomfortable. Clearing her throat and squirming slightly in Manson’s tight grasp, the black haired female was unsure of what to do. “How much do you know about me,” he whispered against her stomach, the hands on her lower back splaying out like stars.
“Wh-wha?” she gasped out, trying to pull out of his grasp.
“How obsessed were you? How much information did you manage to seek out about me before meeting me?” he rumbled, his voice holding a harsh edge as he tightened his grip. Flashes of girls before her flashed through his mind. Girls who had used him and left him. Girls who had taken what he had to offer and tried to use it for a free ride. All of them telling him ‘I love you’ and ‘Only you’ over and over, almost turning into a mocking chant.
“I... I... You were all I had,” she gasped out, fear beginning to edge into her weak voice.
Sighing softly, Manson pulled back to look in her eyes. “I never told you my full name Raven. Not even once. You’ve used it before, sure, but you’ve never had to ask for it,” he whispered, pulling back to hold his head in his hands. More memories flooded his mind, making his heart and stomach lurch sickly. Memories of someone just after Dita. Someone who had been a fan but had treated him like a normal person. Memories of trust and a sickening betrayal.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think... If someone did that to me, I would be really freaked out,” Raven whispered softly, sitting on the bed across from the singer. She flung a thin white sheet over her exposed legs with a blush, doing her best to swallow the panic that rose within her.
“No, it’s not as if that knowledge is hidden. I guess I don’t like the idea of my girlfriend knowing more about me than I do her,” he replied, smiling bitterly as he ran a shaky hand through his ebony locks.
Raven bit her lip slightly as she fidgeted on the bed. He had a point. If he had come up to her and started using her full birth name with some regularity she would have been upset too. “My full name is Meagan Joanna Starling. My mother’s name is Susan Alice Starling and my father’s name is Terry Ellis Starling. They... weren’t exactly loving parents,” she whispered, staring at her blanket covered knees.
“You have a beautiful name. Why did you change it?” Manson asked, his voice slowly losing its gruff edge.
“That has a lot to do with you and your place in my teen years. That was the worst time for me. My parents were never happy with me, sometimes showing that fact in a rather physical manner,” she began, rubbing her still bruised arm with a grimace. Manson grimaced as well, rage and understanding flashing briefly in his mismatched orbs as he watched her.
“I was sixteen when my aunt first introduced me to your music. She thought I would laugh at the ridiculous lyrics but instead I latched onto it. You quickly became the only beacon I had in a very bleak world. Your music was one of the only things that kept me alive some days,” Raven finished, an ashamed look on her pale face as she avoided the singer’s gaze. Inside she was panicking, bracing herself for the yelling that was sure to come.
Instead, she found herself wrapped in a strong pair of arms as a gentle pair of lips began to caress her cheeks. “Thank you,” he murmured, pulling back to brush her hair out of her face.
“F-for what?” Raven stammered, her voice shocked and weak. The only answer she got was a smirk before he began to lean forward, forcing her to lean slightly back.
“I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting lately. Just been thinking about the past a lot,” Manson whispered, lowering his head to ghost his naked lips against her neck.
“A-anyway, I eventually changed my name to Raven when I moved out at the age of eighteen. I guess I wanted to remove myself from my past as much as possible,” the female continued, her voice shaky and unsure as the singer placed his hands on either side of her legs. His pale fingers curled in the white sheets as he nipped her neck affectionately.
“Sounds like we have a lot in common,” he sighed against her sensitive neck, purring in appreciation when she gasped.
“M-manson don’t,” Raven whimpered, caught between burning desire and embarrassment.
“Why not?” he snarled, biting her neck harshly and pressing her body to the bed with his. A jeans covered leg forced her legs open so the singer could settle between them, drawing a frightened whimper from the female below him.
“You’re not in your right mind right now Mare. You’re hurt and scared, not just for me. Something happened to you at the concert and you’ve been acting strange ever since,” Raven pleaded breathlessly, struggling to pull herself away from the agitated ‘Antichrist Superstar’. She kept the fact that she knew about Dita to herself. She had a feeling that if said woman was mentioned, the singer would enter a level of rage never seen before.
Manson went stiff above her, before shoving himself off her with a snarl. “That bastard of a father of yours puts you in fucking hospital but is gonna go free in a few weeks time. I have to go back on tour and leave you alone with Johnny. Not to mention a few other things I’d rather not go into,” the singer hissed to himself, growing more agitated as he began to pace around the small room.
Raven watched him with understanding eyes before getting to her feet and wrapping her arms around him. If she was reading him right, Manson was extremely worried. The anger he was exhibiting was simply the only way he had of expressing it. “Marilyn, it’s okay. I’ll always be around Amanda, Johnny and Jerome when we have to leave the house. I’ll even have my phone on me at all times in case I need it,” she assured, resting her cheek against the rough material of his t-shirt. The singer went stiff in response, his hands twitching in the air above her back as his face went through a gamut of emotions.
“Raven,” he growled in a gruff voice, looking down at her with fear filled eyes, “Christ if anything happens to you, especially after what we’ve already been through...” His voice trailed off, broken and lost as his thin chest heaved with emotion. Biting his lower lip hard enough to make it bleed, the rock star pulled himself away from the female holding him. A cold, angry mask slammed into place, hiding his abject fear and worry for her.
“Brian... don’t...,” Raven whispered, feeling sick to her stomach as fear began to fill her. Manson was shutting down right in front of her, using his rage as a shield against the worry and pain of their impending separation. It almost looked as if he was going into his stage persona and it frankly frightened her.
His rage filled mismatched eyes flicked to her direction, a brief flash of tenderness and worry flashing through them before they turned hard and cold. Instead of acknowledging her, the rock star turned his back on the female and opened the door. “Take good care of her Johnny,” Manson snarled to the actor, slowly moving into the hall.
“Marilyn please! Don’t leave like this!” Raven pleaded behind him, her voice thick with tears. Manson flinched for a moment, his breathing almost seeming to stop.
“I love you Raven,” he whispered, turning slightly to fix her with a slightly gentle look before the mask slammed back into place. Then, ignoring the icy glares from both the actor and Amanda, the rock star closed the door behind him and made his way out of the hospital.
As soon as Manson was gone, Raven sighed shakily and wiped the tears from her eyes with a determined hand. “You okay?” came a cautious male voice as Johnny peeked in the room at her. Amanda also peeked inside, worry and anger clear in her expression.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Let’s get me checked out of here and home,” Raven sighed, worriedly looking out the door. Whatever was going on, Manson wasn’t dealing with it well. There was no telling just what he would do in this state.
Scenery blurred outside the darkened windshield, reflecting slightly off a pair of large, black sunglasses. A grim look fixed to his face and his hands white knuckled on the steering wheel, Manson stomped the gas pedal all the way to the floor. As the rental car sped down the sunlit streets, the rock star found himself thinking back on things best not remembered. One memory in particular slammed into him like a brick, causing him to suddenly pull over and put the car in park. Tears leaving his mismatched eyes unbidden and his breath leaving him in ragged sobs, the rock star squeezed his eyes shut and fought against the coming flood.
‘The last notes of the final song of the night rang over the crowd as he straightened to give his flock one final look. A fine haze of machine generated smoke gave the huge, screaming crowd an almost surreal look and he felt a rush of pride fill him. Below him were his loyal subjects, all hanging breathlessly on every single whisper or movement. A self satisfied smirk on his make-up covered face, the rock star prowled the stage; his eyes scanning the crowd for something in particular.
Suddenly he stopped in place, his whitish-blue and brown eyes fixing on a particular female in the crowd. She wore a Marilyn Manson t-shirt and make-up that mirrored his own adorned her pale face. Blood red hair framed her face and a pair of violet eyes stared up at him worshipfully. Making a quick motion to the security guard, Manson flung the microphone to the crowd and stalked off the stage. As soon as he climbed down the short flight of stairs leading to the back stage, he was greeted by a security guard escorted the woman before.
The female was much shorter than him, her huge eyes giving her an almost innocent appearance. Wonder, amazement and even love filled her face as she looked up at him. “Wow, you’re even more beautiful in person,” she gasped in a breathless voice, her hands coming up to clasp between her ample breasts.
“Well thank you. You’re quite beautiful as well,” he purred, smirking as he leaned down and rubbed her pert nose with his. She only blushed in response, smiling up at him shyly.
“What’s your name?” he asked, gently leading her towards the backstage area with an arm behind her back.
“Melinda,” she breathed, looking up at him with adoring eyes.
The years that passed soon proved to be one of the best times of his life. Melinda was always there for him, even after tours that had him away for years at a time. She patiently put up with his endless stream of partners and massive consumption of booze. The sex was out of this world and he felt as if his heart would break every time she gasped his name in pleasure. He had never felt so utterly complete before.
He came home from one of his many tours, glancing down nervously at a small, black box he held in his hand. A shy smile adorned his make-up free face as he placed the box back in his pocket and opened the door. Then the rock star strode confidently into his house, looking for any sign of Melinda. Wanting what he had in mind to be a surprise, he hadn’t called ahead to alert her to his impending presence.
With a sly grin on his face, Manson began to stalk towards the library. It was one of Melinda’s favorite rooms, the red haired female almost always being in there reading some book or another. As he crept closer to the slightly open door, he became aware of a very hushed sounding female voice. Figuring it was Melinda on the phone with one of her friends and curious what she was talking about, the singer kept quiet and snuck up to just outside the portal. “Yeah, he still doesn’t suspect a thing. I think he’ll pop the question any day now. Once we’re married, I can divorce him for every penny he has,” came Melinda’s gentle voice, twisted into the croon of a harpy.
Manson’s heart went crashing through the floor as pain and rage filled him. All it once it was all he could do to not burst in and strangle the bitch for deceiving him. Slamming his stage persona firmly into place, the ‘Antichrist Superstar’ slammed the door open, a frightening sneer fixed on his pale face. “M-marilyn,” she stammered, fear and understanding coming into her eyes as she allowed the phone against her head to go slack.
“I heard everything. You have about ten minutes to pack your shit and get out before I call the police,” he hissed icily, glowering down at the much smaller female. Melinda shot out of the room the second he finished speaking, leaving the performer alone. The sudden silence allowed the yawning hole left in his heart to start filling him with unbearable pain. Letting out a breathless, strangled sob, the rock star slid to his knees and wrapped a hand in his ebony hair. As the helpless, unbidden sobs left him, the singer punched the carpet over and over again; unable to deal with the sheer amount of pain in his chest.'
The pounding blended in as he felt his fist smacking down on something hard and plastic over and over. A low growl leaving his nude lips, Manson slammed his fist down on the dashboard once more before clenching and stilling the appendage. Gritting his teeth, the singer breathed harshly through his nose as he tried to stomp on the residual pain from the memory. Raven was not like that! She had never shown any interest in his lifestyle or his money. Yet neither had Melinda.
A low growl of frustration leaving him, the singer pulled smacked the leather covered steering wheel and leaned back. The heels of his hands pressed into his closed eyes as he ground his teeth. Raven was different than Melinda! “Fuck,” he hissed, flinging his hands forward to grip the steering wheel as his eyes snapped open. Fumbling with the keys and cranking the engine to life, Manson stomped down on the accelerator. It was almost as if he was running from something.
Lacy stood on the corner of the street, leaning lightly against a light post as she kept an eye out for likely customers. A pair of shorts that were cut off at her ass adorned her hips and a tight, powder pink midriff shirt clung to her large boobs. Light, almost tasteful make-up accentuated her features, making her easily the best looking on the streets. So it was no surprise to her when a sleek, expensive looking car pulled up in front of her. The dark tinted window rolled down to reveal a pale vaguely familiar face. “Get in,” a baritone voice husked from the depths of the vehicle.
The ride to the hotel her john picked was short and silent, most of it spent with her trying to place just where she had seen him before. Something about his pale face was very familiar and it was driving her nuts. Still, one in her profession simply did not ask questions so she opted to keep her mouth shut. Her companion certainly didn’t seem like the talkative type, staying silent until they pulled up in front of a rather ritzy looking hotel. “I’ll pay you an extra grand to answer to the name of Raven for the night,” her silent companion finally grumbled, his eyes hidden behind a pair of dark shades.
“It’s your rodeo man, but for an extra thousand I’ll put on a duck suit and let you call me Daffy,” she answered enthusiastically. Smiling at him brightly, she moved a strand of her ebony hair behind her ear before she got out of the car to wait for her companion.
“Good, we’ll get along fine then,” he hissed tersely, getting out of the sleek car and tossing the keys to an idle valet. The slightly dazed man fumbled to catch the keys for a few seconds before succeeding, watching the pair enter the hotel with a confused look.
As soon as they got into their room for the night, her mysterious john was all over her. His hands were everywhere at once and his lips brushed against the pale column of her neck. “I never got your name,” she gasped out, not really expecting an answer as his eager hands began to undo the buttons of her shorts.
“Brian,” he rasped against her flesh, his hand roughly shoving her short jeans down and allowing them to pool on the floor. For some reason the name caused more bells to ring in her head, bells that were promptly ignored as he lifted her shirt and his mouth found a pert nipple. All coherent thought stopped as a hand rose to fondle the breast his mouth wasn’t currently occupied with, drawing a low moan of pleasure from her lips.
“Raven,” he sighed, almost lovingly, against her neck as he swept her into his arms. Then his lips took hers hungrily as he gently carried her to the bed and tenderly laid her on the satin sheets.
The way he was acting sort of threw her off. He was almost treating her like a lover, not a prostitute. Feeling a slight blush on her cheeks, Lacy watched her odd companion as he broke the kiss to slowly lift her top over her head. As soon as the pink material was free of her arms, the pale man removed his sunglasses. The unusual color of his eyes added another bell to the chorus as she watched his gaze roam over her. “So beautiful,” he sighed reverently, his hands moving to the waistband of her white and blue striped panties to tug teasingly.
“B-brian,” left her lips in an embarrassed gasp, the way he was acting almost making her feel like a virgin again. The way his eyes looked at her, the careful way his hands moved over her pale skin. All of it made her strongly recall caring hands of boyfriends past.
Her flustered response only seemed to make the man happy, a purr rumbling from his chest as his hands left her panties to fondle her large breasts. “Shhh. Relax and trust me,” he assured gently, leaning forward to capture a breast with his hot mouth. His jeans covered knee gently forced her legs open so he could nestle against her junction. Lacy moaned in response, arching against him as her hands came to rest on his shirt covered back.
“Brian,” she sighed lustfully, her head falling back onto the sheets. Her dark companion chuckled against the flesh in his mouth, one of his hands coming down to brush a finger along her silk covered slit.
“Raven, I want you so bad it hurts,” he whispered as he pulled away from her erect nipple. He ground his clothed arousal against her to emphasize his words, a pained groan leaving his lips.
“I’ve wanted you too,” she whispered, deciding to play along. She was rewarded by a searing, hunger filled kiss; his hands coming to rest on her hips as he ground his arousal against her.
Breaking the kiss with a harsh snarl, the now shaking man stared down at her with tortured, mismatched eyes. “I need you like I need water, like I need air,” he husked out, shuddering slightly as he allowed his hands to play with the waistband of her underwear.
“Please,” she gasped out, arousal coiling in her lower belly as she ground back against him. He groaned in response, his hands gently playing with the elastic of her panties. Then, with aching tenderness, the dark haired man removed her panties.
All of a sudden, all activity stopped as her companion leaned back to look over her now naked body. Love, lust and a burning need swirled in his mismatched orbs. “Perfect,” he whispered in an awed voice, one of his hands rubbing her left inner thigh.
“Are you gonna even the score,” she joked, eyeing his still clothed body. The way his clothes clung to his thin form left little to the imagination. She couldn’t help but wonder if he looked half as good naked as he did clothed.
“Only half way,” he husked out, slowly slipping off his tight, black jeans.
“Aw, that’s no fair,” she complained with a playful whine, laying back with a sigh as he lowered himself over her. He only hummed in response, giving her a tender kiss as he rubbed her inner thighs fitfully.
A soft moan left her lips as Lacy brought her hands up to rest on his still clothed back. She could feel the heat of his arousal radiating on her womanhood, giving her a sensation of being touched without actual contact. “Brian please,” she whimpered, breaking the kiss as she arched up under her shuddering companion. The coil of arousal had tightened to near pain and tears of need lingered in her emerald eyes as she looked up at him pleadingly.
With a soft sigh, the lithe man gently spread her thighs open to allow him to rest his manhood flush against her moist slit. “You’re so wet,” he hissed in a soft, husky voice as he rubbed himself along her. This action drew a low, needy moan from Lacy as she arched into the contact.
“Briaaaaan,” she whimpered in an impatient, pained voice, her nails scratching lightly on the back of his black, long sleeve shirt. It had been a long time since she hadn’t had to fake actual arousal and right now it felt as if her whole body was on fire. Her entire core pulsed with need as he continued to teasingly rub himself along her.
As he slipped himself along her, his arms shuddered and his breaths came in ragged pants. His rock hard, pulsing erection twitched against her, drawing a shaky, pained groan from her companion. “God, Brian please,” she begged in a strained voice, her hips undulating of their own accord in an effort to work him inside of her. Instead of just entering her, his lips met hers in a loving kiss before he pulled away.
Thankfully the crinkle of a wrapper made it very clear what he had pulled back to do. Smiling up at her john, Lacy wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a heated kiss. Her companion responded with a husky growl as he pressed his latex coated tip against her quivering entrance. Breaking the kiss with a ragged pant, her dark haired partner rested his pale forehead against hers as he took her thighs in his hands and held them in a loose grip. “This is gonna hurt a bit sweetie,” he murmured apologetically, rubbing his tip along her entrance but not entering.
Lacy blinked a bit in confusion before deciding to go along with whatever fantasy he wanted. Calling back to when she had been a virgin, she put an innocent look on her face and nodded nervously. She was rewarded by another hunger filled kiss as he hilted himself within her in one thrust. A low huff of pleasure left her as he stilled within her, peppering her neck with kisses. Then he was moving and it was the sweetest thing she ever felt.
Every stroke, every movement seemed focused on bringing her pleasure and drawing it out. Soon the prostitute was making noises she hadn’t made since she was eighteen. Wrapping her legs around his thin waist, she arched into him and softly called his name every time he thrust into her. “Mmmm, Raven,” he hissed, hilting himself fully before slowly pulling out and thrusting into her again. Lacy could only mewl low in her throat and cling to him for all she was worth.
“B-brian,” she gasped out breathlessly, bringing his face to hers and kissing him deeply. Lust and arousal roiled within her, coiling tighter and tighter within her until she felt like she would explode.
“Raven,” he growled, brushing his lips against hers as he continued to take her slowly.
Lacy gasped and burrowed her head into his shoulder, unable to do much more than to whisper his name over and over. Then her vision went white as something snapped within her and her world fairly exploded with pleasure. Her entire body went stiff as her passage contracted around her still thrusting companion. “Raven,” he husked in her ear as he went stiff and his grip tightened around her thighs. Then he was laying beside her, being very careful not to crush her with his weight as he tried to catch his breath.
The black haired prostitute couldn’t help but look him in the eyes as she came down, feeling a bit stunned. Never in her long career had a john treated her like this and she couldn’t help feeling a bit confused. It was almost as if the man had been trying to live out a night with a lover. She was so caught up in her musings that she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt him pull out and wrap his arms around her. “You can stay for the night but I want you gone in the morning,” he growled in her ear, tenderly brushing her ear with his lips.
A bit confused by the contradiction of his actions and his words, Lacy simply shrugged before rolling away from him and curling up on her side. No matter how sweet her companion was, he was still just a customer. She couldn’t take anything that happened personally. Still, she couldn’t help but smile as she felt him wrap his arms around her and nuzzle her hair. “I love you Raven,” he sighed lovingly, one of his hands curling around her waist protectively.
“I love you too Brian,” she replied, just to make her john happy. After all, small things like this were often remembered when it came time to tip. Snuggling into the warm body behind her, the prostitute simply closed her eyes and began to drift off. As she slipped from consciousness, she could have sworn he was singing a Marilyn Manson song softly in her ear.
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Tainted Love