Lesbian Erotica
"FIX ME, OR FUCK ME" a sex story by J. Brooke
MANHATTAN, the good life, 5th Avenue, fashion divas, money, lots of fucking money, couture, Dior, runways, bulimia, models, make up, anonymous sex, gay, straight, bi, hook ups, let downs, one night stands, prowling Lincoln Town cars. Clubs, dinners, hangovers, drug abuse, cocaine blues, E, moments to forget, all of it, status, Oprah, Dr. Phil, fixer of sick minds, book signings, fucked up denial, privileged, Hampton weekends. This is Jane’s world.
Manolos, three-inch-heels, tip tapping in the penthouse crib, sky scraper, view of The City, pad in the hand. The East river wet, like her misused cunt, so smart, parents of wealth, agents, publicists, no one says no to her, ever. Sick of men, ignorant of the power of their dicks, blond, 35, jet set blue eyes, thin bod, angel hips, white skin, alabaster waif, eating disorder running amok, has every thing but sexed up luck. Bahamas in the winter, Cannes in the summer, no one fucking her right, she’s so fucking up tight. Frustrated, electric vibrating dildo her lover, face cast like a diva of perfection, no botox yet, still a stunning beauty with a virgin clit. Men fuck her, not really, she’s wants to rip it up, some slut, but tea in Connecticut with a proper mommy, keeps her from the sexed up world of burning it up. She wants it all, been dreamin' of girls, a bi world, every one is doing it, but what, licking the life, sucking out some clit, breathing some silver breath, of a golden girl, a milk and honey, out of control totally insane girl girly girl filled with smut.
Usual client today, Kimmy, Super Model delight, short agate, shimmer hair, eyes like a wolf, colored quartz gold, 21, five foot eleven, one hundred and eighteen pounds, pre pubescent baby child. She's infallible, unbreakable, remarkable, a monster of beauty, an idiot, nobody cares, phenomenal, so she's been told, over and over and fucking forever over again. Seen her runway walk, space between the thighs, skin and ash coal under emaciated eyes. So alluring, so elegant, a cosmic alien, once in a lifetime super nova flaming pure, young, Kevlar bitch. A twirling silk stream blowing from the wind, made of body parts of sin, not that bright, who the fuck cares, or what she wears, an ET with lips like pregnant pears.
So I'm sitting here, fuck, I'm the one who has the PhD, nervous, edged up, leering, for this fucking unbelievably stupid goddess Kimmy, is sitting on my psych couch before me. Short skirt, hiked up, shaved cunt, legs spread, no underwear, exposed, she could give a good fuck, she's perfect and she knows it. Her face is unbelievable, petite, nose, Everest upped cheek bones, eyes spread wide across her face, like tourmaline colored raw diamonds found along the fucking Amazon. Lips so full, ripe with pulsating truth. Thin, legs so long, I keep blinking, set into those thigh high boots, I am dreaming them wrapped around my, I have been told, very sexy mouth. What in the fuck do I know about my fantasies and girl sex? She is fucking perfect below the waist, her wet lips I can taste. I'm spinning, the bitch is a moron, what do I care? I'm the fucking doctor.
So Kimmy, I say. How are you? I ask. What is troubling your pretty little mind today?
Out come the cigarettes, lighter ignites, smoke between those pouted up lips, completely ignoring the "No smoking signs" plastered everywhere.
Kimmy, sorry no smoking dear. All she does is moan, "whatever" with arches in her eyebrows, grows an attitude, she completely ignores my words, what in the fuck am I going to do? She is the power broker here. She's come before, a wrecking machine of men's silly dreams, an icon, a succubus of evil. She steps from a jet, anywhere, men fall at her knees, powerful men, dropping dimes, anything, to just lie for a moment within those velvet loins. She is everything that I am not, an ice cream cone, a cream powder cream puff of pure sexuality, reality, a trilogy of body, cunt, legs, an American bred, anorexic dream, what in the fuck can "I" do for her.
I babble, so Kimmy dear, what now, what is troubling you? She inhales a plume of smoke, kills her cigarette in my potted plant, knees spread, naked white cunt. I'm dizzy, I'm the fucking doctor, am I not? She goes off, a spoiled child, my boyfriend’s cock is not big enough, neither is his friend’s, tried gang bangs, that didn't work, switched to gals. The diamond some Wall Street pimp just gave her, too small too. Met a girl, she forgot her strap-on, her dildo, she hates Lincoln Town Cars, only limos will do, and on and on it goes, I'm drowning here, my vagina liquefying.
We chat, my eyes like darts, she's so fucking spoiled, self absorbed, a wanting bitch, cares only about her dream wants, thoughts, anything she needs, just legs spread, a naked moment fulfilling all of men's twisted up depraved dreams. I tell her perhaps she should shy away from the girl on girl world, she looks at me oddly, I know she’s wondering why I haven't come on to her yet, hit on her, she thinks I'm a doll, a smart trick, she fucking told me so. I've blushed before; it’s like getting a Brittany Spears compliment. She hikes her skirt up, that always works, exposing that P Diddy cunt, stands, I go dizzy, miles and miles of white legs, looks at me and asks, Doctor Jane, have you ever gone down, licked, sucked, kissed a miraculous baby doll’s slit? She’s such a flirt, such a single minded lovely bitch.
I Just Tripped Over My Laces and Landed Like This by Stephen Perry available at ObsessionArt.com
Geez, stutters, shams, denial, I hum and haw, she stands, she is really suicide disguised as perfection of sexuality. She is so confident, has told me the stories, she has destroyed every man or woman she has ever been with. I gasp, as her skirt falls down to her ankle boots, the look in her eyes platinum annealed, my pulse pounding like the last guy who fucked her, which was one of her compliments, just getting her own way, web connecting, Christ, standing there, a ribbon, pigeon toed in those fucking boots, she has my heart. She's an animal, banal, naked, except for those leather thigh boots, pointed at each other, she knows all the bells and whistles, looks at me, you know, a goddess of a moronic world, which I simply do not understand. She whispers something like, Doctor Jane, perhaps you don't get it, it is now, the fucking sex of it, all about the moment. She hasn't seduced me yet and I can see that is bothering her, the psychopath that she is.
Step by naked step, I can see it in her selfish eyes, as she tip toes to me, in those boot heels. No one has never denied her anything, as she moves behind me, laces her thin arms around my neck, then down my blouse, pinching my erect nipple between her daisy finger tips, whispering in my ear as she does. My Doctor Jane, sweet, awesome, you’re so rad, you like me don't you, want me? I want you, I think about you all of the time. She’s a fucking liar, what the fuck do I care as I listen to her elegant mastery of words, thinking she’s fucking Shakespeare. Breath, saliva, kisses on my ear, my neck, rubbing her tiny tits against the back of my head. I swoon, groan, Christ she must be God, or something like that, I can feel my vagina losing fluids, my pulse beating in my wrists, her breath on my face, she smells like raw sex cut with the aroma of roses. Hands slip away, some kind of enticing sex bullshit from her lips, she strolls around the desk, stands white naked in front of me, pouts, a dribble of drool falls down her chin, hits her tits. Oops she murmurs, she takes a string finger, gathers it up, touches her lips, lifts her chin, moans, does a little pout, why Doctor Jane, look what you made me do, spills from her lied up lips. Slow, I can't seem to keep my eyes off of her tiny cunt, a little pink goes a long way, she sees my eyes, she lowers hers, lifts them, then begins to move, towards ramped up fucking me. On the desk, she crawls like a heated up kitty, claws expanding, withdrawing, she sways, her tiny butt tilting to the roof, fingers planted on the teak, I am such a geek. She is a cheetah, scratching, clawing, drooling, an animal, stretching, spine blistering. An exotic cat with her prey in her eyes, hunting, prowling, toward my terrified lips.
Hip hop, hop hip, she straightens, stretches her arms into the air, I gasp, every rib is cut, her fingers falling down her breasts, she moans, heaving tummy, her body shaking, I swear she is having an orgasm, loving herself so much. Fuck what the hell does she need me for? Except as a voyeur, an audience. Open eyes, mommy, not me, she twists around, sits in front of me, slender legs dangling off of the desk’s edge, wet cunt exposed, she does a little hop, flops on my lap, naked cunt pressed against the waterfall of my own. I can barely breath, as she leans in, presses her lips against my own, crams her tongue down my throat, her breath, it smells like nothing I have ever experienced before. Grinding, not a lot, on overdrive, just real Cosmo cool, MTV her teacher, hook ups with the football team, fingers like silicone tendrils of love, wrapped around the back of my fucking bobble slinky head.
More kisses, I've never felt anything like her skin, it’s dirty, filthy love, filled with denial, my part, not hers, this is her turf, as she grabs my ears, punishes my face into her mouth, sucking the fucking life out of me, is this what the taste is, of afterbirth?
She’s crawling all over me, I don't even know if she knows I'm here, it’s all about her, isn't it? As she backs off, smiles, kisses my cheek, and says, something like, just a minute Doctor Jane, I have something that will rock your spleen. Off me she rolls, back to her Fendi Clutch, smiles, turns, a massive black dildo in her hand. Like a fucking rabid kangaroo, she leaps on the desk, swings that minute butt in the air, reaches back, I swear death of sex is tattooed on her face, as she hands me the dildo, shrieks at me like a banshee, stuff that probe in my ass, please Doctor Jane, she screams. And then come on baby, stick that fist in my bellowing cunt. Geez, I'm hyper, manic, where is my Zoloft when I need it? Her booty, that ring, that opening, so pink, so perfect, so fucking wet, I go insane. I don't want to do the wrong thing, so I whack the dildo in her ass, my fist follows, plunged deep in her Super Model cunt, her spine cracks, breaks, tiny butt slapped in the air, she screams, I now know why the fucked up bitch gets anything she wants.
I can feel my own semen in my mouth, I'm stitched up, fist in and out in her vagina, dildo smacking the lining of her tummy, she is so elongated, so fucking exotically beautiful, why she ever thought she would need an education makes suddenly no sense to me. She blows out, slams back against each thrust of the silicone dick, my fist, I can’t take it, I rip my blouse off. I'm frantic, my skirt goes next, crawl on the table, slash her legs out, dildo in her ass, my mouth explodes along the liquids of her cunt. Doctor Clint privilege shattered, I can't breathe, she tastes like rare wine, her body, this noodle of silver, rotating, shimmering, she is moaning, her legs spread wide; she takes Yoga, that is obvious as I take the dive.
Heaving, swelling, I eat her like she is lemon meringue pie, my face glimmering with her cum. Her body collides with her orgasms, she explodes, shakes, rattles and rolls, tilts her eyes, I see madness in them, as she rights herself, crawls on top of me, smashes her tits against my tits, rakes her fingers into my blond, rips my face to hers. I see panic, pleasure, complete insanity, I know now why men, woman love her, she is totally and completely a self absorbed bitch, clinically insane.
She drips low, off my body, slaps the dildo out of her ass, presses her mouth to my cunt, never asks, blasts the dildo in my rectum, I go nuts, detonate. She takes my clit in her teeth, bites, munches, tongue revolving, I scream, beg for God, her, never to leave me again. First time in the ass, it’s a special time, my body undulating, as she drives it deep. I ORGASM, weep, shriek, yell, beg, my fingers wrapped around the back of her head, ORGASM again, that fucking dildo is pounding my ass, so wonderful, so painful, so fucking original, I almost faint.
We’re covered in sweat, girl dancing on my desk, and then it all slows down, real slow. Like she's just been on a first prom date, the egocentric bitch, the killer of all humans desires, lifts that criteria face, smiles, like dah, moves off of my skin, which is burning, my breath exploding, I want a life with her, even though she is an ignorant pig. I see it now, as she sluices off the desk, towers over me, me, lying there, nude, legs spread, thinking of Honeymoon locations, where we can fuck until we’re dead.
Stares, what is my name? Oh yes, Jane, she flicks at my cum on her lips, pink tongue tasting it, she doesn't even smile, ruffles her hair, glances at her Cartier solid gold wristwatch, throws her head back and laughs. I am vulcanized, shattered, I actually love her, she, she rips me off with her words, thanks Doctor Jane that was fun, sale at Sarah McCartney, wouldn't want to miss that, next time, same time, I assume, this has been so glam, ya want to come along with? Fifty percent off. A total soulless bitch. I've just been conned, slammed, banged, thank you mammed.
She dresses, I dress, she smiles, does a pirouette on a boot heel, I murmur something of love, she sighs, flips me off with a finger, real cleaver like, says, get the fuck over it. Pure attitude, it’s always been about her, whatever in her walk, she struts out the door, slams it behind her tiny ass, not even a fuck you, thank you in her fucking boor heels for me, her doctor queen. I feel, like a broken doll, then I see it, her Fendi clutch, grab it frantically, spew out the double wide, as the elevator door closes. The stairs I think, my legs weak, love is like that, I sprint for the stairs, heels clicking on the tiled floor. Down and down I go, reach the lobby just as she is spiraling out the door, moments later I reach the street, green, turning from orange to red at the curb, Kimmy is taking a first step, her Fendi in my hands, I see it down the street, yell "KIMMY, WAIT" she pearls around in an attitude, certain I am in love with her, flips me off again, moves across the cross walk. I scream again, eyes lock, she smirks, as the FedEx delivery truck, beating the orange light, detonated into her skinny bod. Slow motion, she becomes airborne, she is a super model after all, made of skin, frump and bones as she hits the plate glass window of a boutique of chic, slicing her pretty little fashion model head, the bitch undulates, blood everywhere, stoned cold dead. Blink, blink, blink, it takes but a moment for me to comprehend, to get my smiles back. I giggle, look at the Fendi clutch, turn on a heel, know just the outfit that it will look stylish with and chic, drop dead, dead. I feel pretty damn good, knowing even if you’re a fucking super model Icon, sometimes fate is exactly that, satiated with honesty, and in the end, life at times is surreal, filled with destiny and paper pages from Vogue magazine. I turn, hum, glance at my gold watch, another client is on the way, my oh my, this has been an eye opening marvelous and wonderful day, maybe I will write another self help book about it, don't ya just love another super duper payday?
Originally published January 2011