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Paranoir	By : redplus408 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Marilyn Manson Views: 1304 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction! I do not know Marilyn Manson band, and I do not profit from these writings

Chapter List
- 1-Paranoir
- 1
*This is something I wrote somewhere else. But now I revised it a little and here it is again!*

I feel ashamed, again and again
Nothing to give, and no-one to blame
During the day, I guess I'm okay
At night
I sit by your side
Waiting for you, to give me a sign
I'm counting the days
And have nothing to say
I hope I can chill and stay the same
Stop the bleed inside and feel again
Cut the chain of lies you've been feeding my veins
I've got nothing to say to you
I hope I can chill and stay the same
Stop the bleed inside and feel again
Cut the chain of lies I've been beating and beating and beating myself...

-Infected mushroom “Saeed”-

*
I kiss him once. And his hands caress all over my body. His hands are skillful. He makes me shiver in all kinds of pleasure. I see the arousal in his devilish eyes. I let him slide his hands between my naked thighs and feel the burning heat. He touches my most secret and sensitive part, and I moan. I just let him do whatever he wants. Maybe out of pity. Maybe out of love. And later on, I tell this story to no one but to myself as he lies naked next to me, deep in his slumber.

*
He sleeps by me but he feels so far away from me. I feel like the more I run after him, the more he runs away. He is like a child trapped in a man’s body. His lips are small. His cheeks are blown up. He drools. He plays by himself. And he fucks. And he smokes. But most of all… he drinks what is inside of me.
*
I saw him cry once. I left hotel room for five minutes to go buy cigarettes and when I came back, he was on a bed, weeping like a child who just lost his mother. This was not an uncommon thing for Pogo so I just sat next to him and held him in my arms. He kept sniffling. He seemed glad that I was there but he said nothing. He didn’t tell me why he was crying. I just held him in my arms and I let him slide next to me. He eventually stopped crying and fell asleep. I slept next to him, too. When I woke up, he was on top of me, undressing me, his tongue exploring every part of my body like an explorer. We made love. It wasn’t rough or gentle. But it was fucking amazing. He made me cum several times.

At first, I was afraid of Pogo. I’ve heard of crazy things that Pogo did while he was in Marilyn Manson and Spooky Kids. Marilyn told me Pogo can be psychotic and how he means it when he says he’s going to kill somebody. And he told me about the times when Pogo fucked a deaf girl for fun and talked about coming in her ear canal. I cringed at the thought of their filthy sexual exploration. Even Erin and I don’t have sex like that. It was just not me. But Marilyn seemed to be amused by it. He was cackling when he was talking about the part when he and Twiggy peed on that deaf girl after Pogo was done having her.
“Stephen is… quite a character. So be careful.” Marilyn said, creeping his hand up to my thigh. I slowly moved his fingers away, a bit disgusted.
But when I got to know Pogo, it wasn’t anything like that. He ran around like a little child when he was playing keyboard. He was committed but he was also playful. He never stopped giggling. I often thought of Little Prince when I spoke with him. Pogo never tried to be who he wasn’t. And there were multitudes of him. The Pogo that Marilyn had unleashed was a monster. But he was also a lover to me. And these two often mixed. I didn’t mind though. He never promised me anything that he couldn’t deliver.
I never spoke. I just listened to him. We often sit at a café when we didn’t have shows and smoked cigarettes together. He read my mind often. He said I was different than Twiggy. And it kind of stung my heart but I said nothing. He said he fucked Twiggy before.
“Shit, everybody had a piece of him.” He brushed it off like it was nothing. But my chest hurt.
I was never really involved in such acts before. When I was linked sexually with a man, it was usually exclusive and private. And it had never been anything of a spectacle. Harry was my first man. Then Sascha became my second man. But there was never anyone else. And I only slept with them when I felt something for them.
But all changed when I came into this band. Apparently, Twiggy left a big shadow in my life. I felt that I had to be Twiggy and more. Twiggy was sexually deviant and promiscuous than any girl or guy I had ever known. I just couldn’t catch up to that. I always thought Pogo was comparing me to Twiggy. And deep in my heart I knew fans did too, as well as Manson. So I let Manson have me and I let Pogo have me. As Manson thrusted his hips into me in the dressing room, I put my head down in shame at what I had become. But even as Manson and Pogo finished their businesses on me, I felt like I still couldn't escape Twiggy. I was just Twiggy's replacement. Or at least that's what I thought.
Whenever I felt insecure, I did not say much and lowered my head. Pogo often said he saw ocean in my eyes when Twiggy was mentioned. I went off to tune my bass or something, and tried to avoid the subject. Then Pogo came behind me, helped me tune my bass, and slowly slipped his hand under my skirt. I moaned and gasped when his tongue swam in my ear. I lost all my sense and logic and just let him do whatever he wants with me. This never happened with Manson.
Pogo bent me over the table and worked my skirt down. I wasn’t wearing any underwear. I felt him chuckling behind me. His fingers caressed my white buttocks and the crack between them. His finger soon found its way inside me and I helplessly whined. I thought that some lube would be nice but there was no lube in this room. Pogo read my mind and he spat in his hand and touched himself, growling softly. Then his cock slowly and deftly filled my ass, bringing tears to my eyes. Something inside me burned and sent tingles to my dick. I grew hard and I moaned. There was a knot in my stomach that felt really good.
I felt his rough beard next to my face. His breathing was rather erratic and so was mine. His hands sought my chest. And every time he moved back and forth, I felt ecstasy, shuddering like a little child. When he slid in and out of me, I heard something sucking like a foot being pulled away from the mud. I held onto the table tightly and lowered my head, panting into my arm.
Pogo moved faster than ever until he clumped over me letting out a stifled cry. I felt him silently filling my ass. He whispered something into my ear but I couldn’t understand him because my own rock hard cock was bothering the hell out of me. I took Pogo’s hand down to my crotch and he smirked when he felt how hard I was.
“Tim, my secret innocent slut.” He said seductively as he jacked me off. His hand was so good. It was made for sex. Within few seconds, I screamed and spilled my seeds in his hand. He finally pulled out of me and pulled his pants up. I pulled my skirt down. He pat my hair a little, refusing to get close to me. I pulled him in for a kiss. At first, he tried to step away but soon gave into the kiss. We kissed a while until we heard Manson yelling at us from outside that we had three minutes till the show. Pogo left the room first

*
Grotesk Burlesk tour was over. Manson went back home to Dita and Ginger left with couple groupies. John went home to his wife as well. I knew I should be heading home to my wife too. But when I saw Stephen standing there, smoking his last cigarette, it was hard for me to leave without him.
I saw his chocolate orbs wandering off somewhere. I felt like I was dying inside. Where will he go? Who will wait for him? And why do I fucking care so much?
“Fuck it,” I grabbed his hand and lead him away from everyone and everything else. He seemed surprised. He told me I must go home to my wife. But I didn’t listen. I never did.
I pushed him against the alleyway brick wall and I went down on my knees. I took my gloves off and I started to unbutton his pants.
“Stop, Tim. Stop!” He said, trying to push me away. But I pulled his cock out and jacked him off as I looked up to him. I wanted him to fuck my mouth like I was his little whore. I wished I would stop seeing Twiggy in his eyes. I wished I could be just as perverted as Twiggy. I took him in my mouth as soon as he was erect. He felt so warm and filling. I slowly teased him with my mouth and ran my tongue up and down the flesh. He started to moan and snapped his head back.
“Tim…” He groaned. I sucked him harder, breathing through my nose. I felt his hand behind my head, urging me to go in deeper. I took him in deeper. I felt tears welling up in my eyes as he hit the back of my throat.
“F—fuck…” He grabbed my hair tightly. I squealed a little before I picked up my speed. I wanted to get him off. I wanted him to blow in my mouth like he would for Twiggy or anyone else. I wanted it to be me. As I buried my face between his legs and bobbed my head up and down, something bittersweet spilled down my throat. I knew it was his seed. He was very close. And I could hear him above me, reaching his climax. Pogo bucked his hips up at my face for the last time and came violently in my mouth. I closed my mouth and swallowed them all. He cried as he came. I didn’t know why orgasm made him cry.
After I was done swallowing him, I saw him zipping himself up. He wiped his tears away and tried to look as though he didn’t care.
I wanted him so bad. I wanted to fuck him. I wanted him to fuck me. I wish I was a girl just so that he would fuck me and abuse me the way he would when he loved them. I wanted his hands creeping up my skirt again. I wanted him to have me the way he would have anyone else.
He touched my face once and told me he needed to go home and I should do the same.
And I remembered him laughing on coke and saying, “Home? Where is home?”
I just watched him go.
*
Erin and I made love in a completely different way than I did with Pogo. She expected and I gave. I touched her the way he touched me. I caressed her body and she moaned. I loved hearing her. She made me feel alive again when I couldn’t wake up from a nightmare.
She and I kissed. Our tongues met and caressed each other’s mouth. But she will never know where my mouth had been today. It was so deceitful but I had to lie. She held me tightly and told me she loved me. But I feel like I was in my mother’s arms rather than my wife’s. Erin had an abortion before she met me. It was her ex’s baby. Her ex had left her when she was pregnant so she had no other choice but to abort it. But I guess one last sex she had with her ex before he left did the job for her. She told me as she lay on the gynecologist’s bed, waiting for the doctor to pull her baby out piece by piece, she felt destroyed. After I heard all this, I felt guilty having sex with her. I felt that she was going through pain over and over again whenever she was fucking me.
As she sprawled on all fours beneath me, I felt hesitant to enter her. I didn’t move until she guided my hand to her ass urging me to enter her.
“It’s okay, baby.” She said. “You can come inside me if you want.”
I looked away in shame. She was my wife and I loved her but it felt so wrong doing this. But I did it anyway. I rammed my cock inside her over and over again and felt her velvety insides. Normally, every time I tasted her or I fucked her, I felt like there was something inside her that I shouldn’t touch. So I was very careful and had hard time coming inside her. But tonight, it was different. I closed my eyes and thought about Pogo. I kept fucking her until I felt something inside me grow bigger and bigger. I thrust over and over again and suddenly something in me exploded, spilling everything inside her. She cried out in ecstasy but somehow to me, I felt like she was crying out for help.
I quickly cleaned up my mess and rolled off the bed. I would normally cuddle with her but I felt too ashamed to do so tonight. I went to shower and after long hours of scrubbing and showering, I came out to find my wife sleeping soundly in bed, satisfied from our sex. I pulled comforter over her and quietly dressed to go out.
- 1
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Paranoir