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...and all the sinners, [are] saints!	By : runningnakedinthepark Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Rammstein Views: 2308 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Rammstein. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Hope I
- 2-Love (Chastity)
- 3-Anger
- 4-Jealousy
- 5-Sloth
- 6-Greed
- 7-Lust
- 8-Gluttony
- 9-Charity
- 10-Vanity
- 11-Hope II
- 7
- 8
- 9
VII
Title: ... and all the sinners, [are] saints! ( 7/10)
Author: Mr Naked
Rating: NC 17
Pairing: Christoph/Richard/Olli/Paul/Flake
Disclaimer: If this happened for real, I'd like to know too.
Summary: Gluttony
Archiving: Only with my express permission.
Inspired by Smashing Pumpkin's “Ava Adore”

VII – Gluttony

“I watched with glee
While your kings and queens
Fought for ten decades
For the gods they made”
- The Rolling Stones: “Sympathy For The Devil” -

“Who's the other man?” asks Richard.

Richard – poor lost soul; he found his comfort in my arms. In my bed.

Inertia – here I am, moving up lingeringly, instigating my kisses, one after another, on his bare legs. He coils his fingers lazily into my hair. I sense his whole body relaxing; I don't need to look to know that he's reclining his head better on the pillow, closing his eyes while a soft moan slides between his parted lips as the tip of my tongue plays over the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

How did he figure out about the other man, though?

Lazy afternoon. And quiet. Him, naked in my bed, laying on his back, allowing me to do to him whatever I want. And that's what I'm doing, leaning over him, on all fours, above his thighs. His heavenly thighs.

That thing, that divorce of his, has affected him more than he would ever admit it, even to himself. But one thing is to try to find comfort, and, in a way, to revenge what's been done to you by jumping from one woman's bed to another's, and another thing is to have someone close to you, someone you know that would understand what you're going through, just because he's like you. A guy. Me.

“What other man, Richard?” I ask on a tone as calm and lazy as these hours we get to spend before our next concert.

I take the lube and uncap the tube. His cock is half erected and I'm licking my lips wondering what wicked and perverted, yet pleasurable thing, I should do to him. Usually, I have him dress in drag and wear that long blond pig tails wig. And, oh boy, don't I drool every time I see the curved shape of his beautiful ass profiled through the fabric of his brown skirt? Don't I start quivering slightly each time, anticipating the sight and the sensation of my palm sneaking under that skirt, touching the smooth skin on his thigh?

This time it has to be different.

Him and his stupid questions! Why does he have to get me angry like this? Doesn't he have a good time with me, why does he need to know more?

Would it help him with anything? No! But it surely makes me want to hurt him, really bad!

“I'm not stupid, Christoph, and you're not, either” he hisses as the tip of my tongue flickers against his shaft. “Fuck!” He groans as I'm slowly licking his eager flesh. It's hot and pulsing.

Bed sheets hiss softly as he grabs onto them and pulls the texture while my mouth brushes gently his skin.

Yes, Richard, poor desperate soul; he was the first of them to get into my bed.

I needed comfort as much as he did, because being rejected like that by Till wasn't a thing to swallow easily.

I lift my head a bit, my mouth leaving his cock.

“Hey, don't leave me like that!” Richard complains on a husky and languid voice.

Poor eager soul!

I laugh quietly as I'm putting some of the oily cream on my palm. His cock is fully erected by now, demanding attention.

I lean back over it; I cross my tongue over its tip. Richard squirms slightly in the bed, making me simper at his moan of relief that he won't be left like that. I creep my index between his thighs as, with my lips, I encircle again his stiff member. His flesh trembling in excitement on his thighs hypnotizes me with those almost imperceptible movements. I sneak my finger forward, as my mouth slithers more on his cock. He parts his legs, gradually, allowing the tip of my finger to touch that sensitive spot, his hole. He flinches, and I can pick his body contracting even in my mouth and on my tongue, while caressing his soft, hot, tender skin. I spread the lube over his hole, pressing in with the tip of my index in just a bit, only for tease, pleased each time I see him wincing.

His palm trails over my shoulder and the back of my neck, he plays through my hair, clinging onto it and pulling. Between my legs my own cock is growing hard, my balls as well, but, for now, all my attention is focused upon him.

I encircle the base of his member, as I'm teasing his hole with the index of my other hand, making him shiver and groan. But he's not getting it until he parts his legs wider, exposing himself as he's arching his back even more. I push my finger inside him, enjoying his tightness, hungry pulsing flesh trapping it there.

“This... this is torture,” he manages to pronounce, gasping for air, as I'm working my mouth on his cock and inserting my finger as far as I possibly can.

I'm pumping at the base of his cock; my lips and tongue travel up and down over his almost bursting member. I'm shaking even harder, aroused, unable to coordinate the rhythm between my sucking and my finger squirming inside him, slipping in and out, digging further and further, like searching for a magic spot hidden inside him.

He lifts his leg slowly, and starts to rub his thigh against my arm, and touching my back with his shin, as he is gripping onto my hair. He makes a slight attempt to caress my head, then he gives up; he tugs at my hair, then he realizes that this might hurt me, so he tries to soothe me. My own body is screaming to be taken care of, but I'm only closing my eyes, sinking my finger deeper in his flesh, drowning my thoughts into this swirl inside my head, caused by his panting, keep diving between his legs wrapped around my arms and back, as he's rubbing my torso with them.

His palms leave my head for a second; this is it, I sense it coming through his body, called by his rhythmical movements, and my finger, slipping in and out, and my tongue, licking him.

He grabs my shoulders, his fingers – strong claws piercing painfully through my muscles; he freezes for a second. He seems like an extremely tensed spring right before that explosion that's now filling my mouth and sending his juices right to the back of my throat. I stop fingering him, his flesh moves spasming around my index for a few seconds as he cums.

Then, the sudden storm that ravished his entire being leaves him drained and breathless. We're back in my bed, in this torpid afternoon, in this quiet room, only his rushed breathing upsetting the silence between these walls.

I rise a bit, to be able to look and admire his abandoned body; wide glowing with sweat chest, divine thighs waiting to be devoured. He lies still, with eyes closed, as if behind his eyelids he's still floating somewhere suspended over the waves of his blood speeding madly through his veins.

I get the lube again, and spread some over my hardened cock, then I kneel between his parted legs. I stand above him, propped on my arms, one on each of his sides; my face is at his level, I'm waiting for him to open his eyes. I plant a kiss on his exposed neck, then I arrange his ass and legs to allow my cock to enter him. I push myself inside, then I recline again over him as he's finally opening those blue-green eyes of his. He's still breathing irregularly, his chest rising and going down under mine in mesmerizing movements, making me get even harder inside him. On his lips floats the beginning of a smile, so I smile back at him, lean over to nibble a bit on his earlobe, as I'm holding on his hip, before starting to thrust.

“The other man...” I whisper into his ear and suck hungrily on its lobe.

“Uh uh,” he emits clasping on my back.

I raise and grab his hip with my other hand too; his glance is now caught into mine as I begin to pound harder.

“... is Olli.” I confess.
***
“Guess I'm switching interests,” confessed Olli, that night at one of those few after-show parties he ever attended.

Poor innocent soul!

It was late night, we both were already a bit drunk, and very tired. Too tired to join that load of talking and laughing too loud people in the room; we were only sitting and watching them, as they were sunk in their own worlds already, with their minds already hazed by drinks and dope.

I knew that that was my moment, the perfect time for me to make my move. I wasn't looking at him, I only raised my glass, pretending to be absorbed by the sight of the exposed belly of a girl that was flirting with Richard. I planted my hand on Olli's knee. Not too firm, yet not too hesitantly.

I took another gulp from my drink when this hot and sweaty palm was laid over the back of mine; Olli folded his long lank fingers around my hand and he started to move it slowly over his slim thigh, upward, until reached between his legs and rubbed my palm over his growing erection.

Oh, the thrill impossible to put into words, that feeling of being the first one to have something untouched yet by others. To read in his eyes the desire mixed with fear!

They say patience can get you anywhere! And didn't I have patience with him?

The best way to enjoy a meal is to chew slowly on it, bit by bit, savoring it to the very end. And my meal started with his timid kisses, his touches growing bolder with time; I got on my knees for him, I let him have me all the ways he wanted to, and I waited patiently for my turn, for him to want it and to ask me for it.

“Doesn't it hurt when I'm doing you?” He asks and I smile at my reflection in his innocent eyes.

“It never does when it's done properly,” I whisper while the tip of my index finger travels lingeringly over his bare chest.

I sense his arousal; under the tip of my finger his chest is moving fast, as he's breathing irregularly. Olli is that kind of person whose beauty one discovers only after a while, after taking a good look at him and spending some time around him. And isn't he drawing me onto him, the way he's sitting on the bed, his unbuttoned shirt revealing his bony upper body, those loose pants wrinkled deliciously over his thin long legs, his bare feet...?

Olli smiles hesitantly, under the effect of my compliment.

My finger continues its route between the hairs on his chest; I'm fighting hard this urge to grab him closer, to ravish him until my desire to devour wears off, but, no, I'm still holding.

He places his hand over my finger, detaches it off his skin, draws it up while opening his mouth and puts it on his tongue. Then he clutches his teeth over my index and bites me.

“Fuck!” I hiss, making him laugh while he takes my finger out of his mouth. “Lustful bitch!” I groan, delighted, aroused.

I sneak my palms under his open shirt, gripping onto the flesh on his upper back, as I'm pulling him closer, to bite his neck and then kiss along his jaw line.

“Ok.” He agrees whispering hoarsely “But be careful.”

I'm done waiting! I start undressing him with rushed movements, unzip his pants as he's taking my t-shirt off me, I get him rid off the rest of his clothes, as he's fumbling to get me naked in no time, too.

Then he stops, for a few seconds. I can't help to not notice – amused – his eyes widening when seeing my full erected cock, ready for action. It's not that he hasn't see it before; he touched it and worked his mouth on it before, but perhaps now he's actually realizing that this thing is going to get inside him. He knows that this time will be different; different for him, and different for me.

“Turn around.” I whisper before kissing his lips for one more time.

He complies, while I'm bringing out the lube and then I spread the oily substance on my palm, before putting some on my cock. Olli is on all fours, shivering slightly, in expectancy.

Poor ignorant soul!

I recline over his slender back and plant a kiss between his shoulder blades. In the same time I cup my palm over his balls and play a bit with his cock, to have it growing even harder in my hand. I continue kissing him along his spine, to calm this frightened creature, as I'm spreading lube over his hole. I chuckle excited, perceiving under my fingers each of his flesh vibrations and surprised flinches of his muscles when he's touched there. It's not like I haven't fingered him before, but this time is going to be more than just that.

And I guess my lingering before actually starting anything is making him even more nervous. But now it's my turn to play, and I do intend to enjoy my meal, chewing on it piece by piece. And I'm doing so, patiently, as I'm entering him slowly, carefully; fuck, he's so tight that it hurts!
He shudders under me, shook by a long low grunt he emits as I'm filling his hole with this stiff cock of mine.

I lean again over his back, nuzzle his neck and bite his earlobe to get his attention.

“You're supposed to play with yourself,” I pour this strangled whisper into his ear. “It will make you feel better”

“I can't!” He almost snaps at me, and I see his arms trembling under his own weight.

So I fold my palm over his cock, plant another kiss on his back, and then I rise on my knees, as I'm starting to stroke him.

Curses slide between his gasps, but he's not giving up. I rub my thumb gently on the tip of his cock. He groans again, choked, as I'm finally starting to thrust into his ass. Gently, slowly, painfully, pleasurably.

In spite of his obvious pain, he is getting even harder, stirred by my touches. For a while he seems like he hasn't made his mind yet, whether to ask me to stop or to ignore the pain and try to enjoy being fucked and jacked off.

His muscles relax gradually around my cock, so I increase the rhythm; he's moaning slightly, in pleasure this time, as I'm stroking him faster.

I close my eyes, starting to enjoy fucking his virgin ass, my own pleasure accumulating, as I'm thrusting quicker, until he pushes away my hand away from his member and starts jerking off himself. Now I can grab both of his hips and shove him more on my cock.

Olli is the second one of them; he's playing along with me in this mad dance I've begun since Till rejected me. I'm trying to prove a point here, and we'll see whether getting involved with one or two from this band will tear our little group apart.

I feel Olli arising under me, until his back is touching my slippery chest as I'm moving above him. And he seems to have started enjoying it, also, as he pushes himself more onto my cock, like asking for that magic spot inside him to be hit over and over again. His groans are uniting with mine, I'm straightening my back to be able to get my cock even deeper inside him, again and again, faster, like trying to catch up on the rhythm of his hand moving on his own member.

He freezes for a split of a second, his muscles are contracting in spasm over my cock, igniting my own orgasm, making me hold still and unleash that explosion that sends my own semen deep inside him.

***
“Well, if Till is allowed to have Flake as a fuck buddy, why shouldn't I have my share” explained Paul.

“A share of Flake?” I teased him.

He threw this “are you fucking dumb?” look, and I had to bite my lips to stop myself not to burst into laughter.

“Do you feel something for Till?” I asked on a casual tone, swallowing my own anger and fear of what I was anticipating I'd hear next.

“Do I have to?” He asked.

Paul, poor frustrated soul!

Now he's here, in my dressing room; his face is glowing with sweat and is covered in dark make-up, making him look like someone shoved his head in mud.

He is standing in front of me, having me with my back against the closed door. He's confessing to me his plans about getting his claws on Till.

“I can't believe this shit” he tells me. “Richard got him...”

I smile, trying to appear sympathetic, yet I clench my jaws. I could so easily let free this fiery burst torturing my mind, forget who's there in front of me, just grab his throat and wipe the floor with him.

But Paul seems unable to realize what I'm going through. He stops his chattering, and looks at me, in silence. I'm wearing only my black concert shorts, I'm all covered with sweat and, just as him, have make-up smudged all over my face.

I pick voices of people passing by, from the other side of the door; everyone is getting ready to leave the venue as we've finished our concert for the night.

I look again at Paul; his eyes sparkle playfully, like two incandescent squirrels as he's grinning; he's showing incredible white teeth, in contrast with the black powder covering his face. He lifts his hand slowly, and he rubs teasingly my slippery chest, with his thumb.

“We should wait for when we get to the hotel and we've had our showers” I sigh, feeling a sudden awakening between my legs.

Paul's grin becomes wider and he shakes his head in refusal. He moves his other hand and he draws with his index an invisible line up my thigh, sneaking his finger under the edge of my short pants. He squeezes my nipple and then steps closer. I swallow this knot in my throat; I'm already shivering, aroused. He plants a kiss on my collar bone.

“We'll start here” he says breathing against my skin. “I want to suck you, first”

He doesn't allow me to reply, he just grabs me by the back of my neck, drags me down, and starts to kiss my lips and bite slightly on my tongue.

I put my hand between his legs, rubbing his balls and further, behind them, as I'm ramming my tongue deeper in his mouth, for him to suck on it.

With rushed movements, he undoes my pants, while thrusting on my hand. His lips leave my mouth, moving downward, on my chin, then on my neck, leaving a trail of kisses on me as he's kneeling in front of me. He frees my cock from my pants, and plays his fingers along it as, with his other hand, he's unzipping his own pants, to reveal his own already stiffened member and to start stroking it while getting his face closer and flicks his tongue against the slit of my cock.

I arch my back, resting my head against the door, as subtle chills, like invisible needles are pocking the skin on my back. He cups his palm over my balls, moving forward, to my ass, to caress my hole as he gets my cock in his mouth.

I hold onto his hair, and start to rock his head slowly as his mouth is sliding over my erection. Through my eyelashes I catch a glimpse of his hand moving too, as he's wanking almost in the same rhythm as he's sucking me.

I bite my lips not to let this loud groan escape my throat.

Knock! Knock! Right behind my head!

“Christoph?”

Flake's voice.

Fuck!

I cling onto Paul's head, to stop this wet and hot tongue traveling along my shaft, but he ignores my signal.

I take a gulp of air, forcing my voice to sound normal.

“Yeah?” I emit this distorted growl, instead.

“We're about to leave, but can't find Paul anywhere. Have you seen him?”

Paul moves his other hand upward, from my thighs over my abdomen, and starts to tease my navel. He is laughing, the weird spasm of his muscles around my cock almost making me cum instantly.

“I also wanted to talk with you” comes again Flake's voice, this time on a more conspiratorial tone.

Paul folds his fingers on the base of my member and begins to pump me as he's sucking even harder. I bite my tongue again, I pull his hair, to make him stop, but he keeps ignoring me.

“I'm changing, Flake” I say between gasps. “And I don't know where Paul is” I add, my last words ending into this suppressed growl.

“Oh, all right, hurry up!” I hear Flake's voice from behind my head, followed by the sound of his steps as they fade away.

Or is it me leaving the real world for a while as all my being starts focusing on what's happening down there, where all the pleasure is building up as Paul's mouth works mercilessly on my cock?
He's squeezing and pumping harder, I'm seizing his hair firmer.

Hold me, don't let me skid down, keep me here, don't let me fall into this mouth that seems to try to suck the entire of me, along with my seed!

For a while everything around me disappears. Then, I start picking his muffled moans, as his lips and tongue get softer and lifeless, when leaving my now limp member. He leans his head backward, with eyes closed, as he strokes himself faster, his pre-cum oozing over his hand. At one point he straightens his back, thrusting into his own palm, until he begins to spurt. He freezes there, for few seconds, knelt in front of me; then, like getting back to life, he opens his eyes gradually.

He notices my glance concentrated upon him, so he smiles.

“You heard the man,” he starts on a feeble rusty tone. “We should hurry up.”

He rises on his feet with numbed and unsure movements; I tuck my cock back in my pants and move away from the door.

“Do you think I stand any chance with him?” Paul asks me as I pass by him on my way to the chair in front of the make-up mirror.

“Who?” I manage to tear this exhausted whisper off my throat.

It's not the blow job that drained me like this.

“Till,” he answers while arranging his clothes.

It's all this anger and hatred I'm fighting to keep under control draining me, all this effort to put out this sudden flow of bitterness taking over me.

After I told Richard he wasn't the only one, he came back to me for a few more rounds, then he seemed to have lost interest. Now he went to Till. I guess I wasn't good enough for Till, while Richard appears to be.

I've had enough with this shit! Time to sort things!

“I don't think he will reject you” I force my voice to sound firm, avoiding looking at Paul, avoiding seeing my own face in the mirror. “He's always looking for something new. And once you've got him, you can make him forget about Richard too. You'll have fun with him!”

***

“Guess I was fun for you when I was a first timer.” Olli's words are echoing in my mind.
Long hallways, doors lined one after another, those same wall lights, aligned between each door, same images replicated endlessly as I'm walking through this hotel to my room.

“You only wanted some novelty.” Olli was reproaching me few minutes ago. “You had it with me, now you moved to a new one”

A new novelty, ha? Did I split with him or I don't remember what I'm doing, anymore?

“I know you're screwing around with Paul,” added Olli.

I was looking at him, getting a painful squeeze in my heart while thinking that I've probably played too much. Olli didn't deserve to be hurt like that. I knew he felt hurt, even if he wasn't showing it. He was talking so calmly; it hurt worse than a punch in the face. And suddenly I felt so dirty. A whore smeared in four men's semen.

“It's not Paul,” I whispered chocked by that sudden hot flush sinking my whole being. “I've been with Richard, before you. But now we're over.”

I open my room's door.

“But now we're over,” echoes in my mind as I'm standing in the threshold looking at that ocean of quiet darkness in the room, waiting for me to step in.

I lied again. Each day I'm waking up and I'm stepping into an ocean of quiet darkness. And it's only me that knows what I'm really doing there, like a kid thinking that if he hides under a blanket, God won't see what's he up to. I might not able to see myself moving in the darkness, but I still know.

I still know I've pushed two men in Till's arms, when, in fact, I want to squash them under my feet for even attempting to consider climbing in his bed.

I step in the room, while touching the wall, searching for the switch.

Then, the door slams behind me, almost hitting my face; but I don't have time to wonder what and how, because I find myself shoved with my back against the wall.

This pair of lips glues forcefully onto mines, kissing and biting hungrily my flesh – I taste lipstick and tobacco.

Fuck, how did this groupie sneak in?

I try to push whoever is pressing their tongue inside my mouth, but this too strong pair of hands is fighting me, holding me still while a tensed and palpitating body is rubbing against mine. Arms and body too strong to be a woman's! Not to mention about some accessories missing!

I grab whoever's back it is, and it's then when my skin is brushed by what I realize to be those long pig tails. Suddenly, I relax a bit, when I figure who that is, as I'm intoxicated by his scent.

“Richard?” I moan into his mouth.

The electric light invades the room.

“What the fuck?” I ask, blinking fast, blinded.

“Shhh....” He purrs into my ear and then bites my neck.

Instead of pushing him away, I squeeze him even closer to my chest as I feel his thighs rubbing enticingly against mine. He's in drag, the same outfit he was complaining about each time when I asked him to put on, to fulfill my perverted fantasies.

“What happened?” I'm curious to know, but his hand with painted fingernails covers my mouth to silence me.

“No questions, we just fuck, all right?” He whispers while his blue eyes look straight into mine.

I slither my tongue between my lips and lick the warm skin inside his palm. He grins, aroused, and takes his hand off my mouth.

“I thought you were mad at me,” I say, cheered up out of the blue.

My glance scans his perfectly shaped eyebrows, the dark eyeliner enhancing the color of his eyes, the dimly glowing lipstick...

“He's a fuckwit,” answers Richard, stepping back.

I sigh loudly, fighting with myself not to smile.

My gaze travels along his frame, descending over his fine worked chest, to his shapes hidden by that skirt he's wearing. Suddenly I have this itch in my palm, forcing me to fight with my own impulse to sneak my hand under the brown fabric... Not yet.

“What did he do?” I ask instead.

“You were right, he was screwing around with Paul. First I thought you were telling me that just because you were jealous of me going to him,” replies Richard simply, making my heart dance with joy. “Are we going to fuck, or what?” He wants to know.

I prop my back against the wall, as I'm just looking at him. God, he's beautiful!

I could tease him; by denying him, I could make him pay for leaving me like that.

“But, as they say, he who chases two rabbits in the same time, ends up with none.” Richard continues while walking over to the bed and sits on it.

He takes the pack of cigs that was waiting for him on the night stand, and lights himself one.
No, he deserves a prize for carrying out my plan! I deserve a prize for my plan!

Richard drags the first smoke and he expels it harshly, upward, like aiming to the ceiling.

“So, Till ended up with...?”

“...his dick in his hand.” Richard completes my sentence. “I could care less. Probably he's back with his fuck mate, Flake. Don't know how longer that bitch will put up with him, either.”

He pauses to drag another smoke.

“Are you still with Olli?” He asks quickly.

I bow my head and remain silent for few seconds. In a stupid gesture, I hide my hands behind my back.

“I just came from his room. We're through...” I whisper.

Then I look straight at Richard sitting on my bed. He has this negligent manly posture, contrasting with his outfit, with his legs parted, allowing my lewd gaze to see a bit of his inner thigh under the skirt.

I know I'm lying. Olli didn't say he doesn't want to see me anymore. He only announced to me that he found out that I'm messing around with other men beside him.

“So...” I start stepping away from the wall. “You're back to me.” I say walking over to Richard.

He only shrugs and drags another smoke from his cig. He's hiding it, but I know he's boiling inside with anger. He probably came here just to get even with Till.

I stop in front of him.

“Listen.” I whisper and lean above him.

He inclines his head backward looking at me with curious eyes.

I cup my palm over his chin, to lift his head and hold his face as I'm bending over to kiss his lips softly, almost chaste.

“I need to be fucked really bad, till I hurt.” I whisper against his lips. “You deserve a present for your return.”
***
“He's too busy feeling sorry for himself to even think that I might be screwing around.” Flake justifies himself to me. “Not that he'd give a shit if I fuck around” he adds.

Yes, Flake in my room! He must be the third... yeah, the fourth one complaining about Till. Not long ago Paul, upset, was telling me about how Till and Richard passed him from one to the other, like a volley ball. And to my surprise, Olli had something against our singer too, he wouldn't tell me what, but he came back to me like the others before him.

Now, hearing Flake's voice behind me I shrug thinking about how wrong all of them are. I keep searching through my luggage, ignoring his yapping. Richard doesn't waste time whining about Till, but Paul is always going on and on with his revenge plans upon Richard and Till. So, Flake's rambling doesn't bother me at all.

Flake, poor disappointed soul!

He came to me, just like the others. And just like them, he needs some comforting and soothing. And, as always, I'm not refusing to offer that. I never refuse any of them, even if they go away for a while. Because I know they always come back.

“You know, there's something I'd like you to do for me.” Flake asked the first time we fucked. “I'd like you to dress like in that video and...”

“Do you think I carry around women's clothes?” I snapped at him.

He didn't answer, he just fixed me for a while with his sharp glance through the thick lenses of his glasses. Of course I carry around women's clothes, who was I trying to kid?

Now, I'm holding them at my chest, as I'm standing in front of the large mirror in this hotel room we're both in. Through the looking glass I see the bed behind me, and Flake's slim frame sitting there; he waits patiently for me to get started. It's not just the actual sex, he has to watch me getting ready just for this game, even if it takes a while. And I comply with his wishes, because I know he gets extremely aroused only seeing me putting on this outfit.

He never makes comments about this process, while I'm dressing up, he only makes conversation about different topics. I barely answer, though. I can't start argue with him, since I disagree with his opinions about Till.

Yes, Flake is the fourth of them, so far. And I'm keeping them all, because I need them. I can't be without them. Because I do love each and every one of them, I do have a place for all of them. I play with them, I hurt them and then I bring them comfort and sooth their bleeding hearts. It's them that I adore, and we should never be apart. With them I feel wanted, with them I feel so pretty, in them I taste God.

I know Flake wants me to start preparing, but I am like chained by something stronger than my will holding me there, to stare at my own reflection in the mirror.

I don't want to break this band as in revenge on Till. Actually, now it's like we're even closer to each other. But the circle doesn't seem complete. It misses a piece. And for that piece I'd trade the other four. But I know that that will never happen. So, I have to hold the other four on my leash...

The tall man in the mirror tilts his head to see himself better, to look at his blue eyes and at his longish dark curled hair that soon will be hidden under the wig he has now in his hand. The man in the mirror knows that the other four walk and talk as he wants them to. He also knows that he could never get enough of them, always wanting more and more. And they are giving him exactly what he wants. Like they all five would be addicted to each other.

To be continued...
- 7
- 8
- 9
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...and all the sinners, [are] saints!