Drag Queen Beauty Pageant

by Malachite Splinters

  I could feel myself starting to tremble under the intensity of his gaze. I could almost smell the testosterone pumping around his bloodstream and pushing him into this rage.

  My stomach dropped away into the pit of need which had been uncovered before when I felt Damaris’ hand on my ass.

  It was a seemingly bottomless pit, wet, hot and filled with a strange sparking energy.

  I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll think your come was made of solid silver.

  I tried to breathe and my breath hitched. I bit my lip and as I looked up at him, I reached up and wrapped my hand around his upper arm, feeling the wiry muscles in it. I shrugged.

  He pushed my hand off his arm. “Don’t be so cute with me. It’s not going to work this time.” He was breathing hard through his nostrils like a bull. He ran his hand through his hair and made it stand up wildly on end. “You are not going to charm me again.”

  “Did I make you angry, Marcus?” I said, my voice nothing more than a breath. I couldn’t get anything else out.

  “You better fucking believe you made me angry,” Marcus’ chest heaved.

  “And what are you going to do?” I asked.

  I reached out one finger and placed it in the hollow between his knife-sharp clavicles, and then ran it down his t-shirt, down his chest, over the dip in his navel and down, down to the waistband of his jeans which I rested my finger on for a second before letting it drop.

  He seemed to be staring at me in outrage.

  “Are you going to punish me?” I breathed, looking up and meeting his eyes.

  Before I knew what was happening he had grabbed me in a crushing grip and our mouths locked in a wet rough tangle of tongues and teeth, fierce enough to send a jolt of electricity straight through my body to my balls. But it was brief, because he pulled away, looked this way and that around the street. There weren’t many people about but it was by no means deserted.

  He took my arm and reached past me to open the front door, then moved me by the arm and pushed me through it. “Get in there,” he muttered.

  His anger sent a thrill through me. The minute he stepped through the door with his suitcase, I wrapped my arms around his neck and moulded myself to him.

  He caught me and leaned down, pulling my face toward his with his hand on the back of my neck and covering my lips with his in a savage kiss that knocked my teeth and caught my breath as he plunged his tongue into my mouth.

  I responded by tightening my arms around him and hooking my foot behind his calf. He moved his hand from my neck down my back to my ass, and squeezed mercilessly.

  I let out a full-throated groan.

  “Fuck,” he hissed, breaking the kiss and letting me down, looking around the entrance area. There were two apartments on the street level. “Get upstairs,” he pushed me toward the stairs and picked up his suitcase.

  I turned around. “Don’t push me.”

  He stared at me, and his eyes travelled down my body to the bulge in my crotch.

  It had taken one touch from Marcus to get me achingly hard, the void of need inside me trembling behind my erection, pulsing and powering it.

  “If you stay here, you’re going to get pushed,” he muttered, licking his lips. “I’m going to push you to the edge until you break from pleasure.”

  I heard the whimper escape from my throat before I could take it back.

  He raised his eyes to mine, then stepped aside neatly and opened the door to the street.

  “Your choice.”

  My heart was pounding so hard I thought he could surely hear it. “Shut the damn door,” I rasped, my voice strange with arousal. “And take me upstairs and fuck me.”

  He slammed the door shut, his chest heaving. “Go,” he said.

  I was unwilling to turn away from him, but I did, taking the stairs two at a time until I reached his front door, where I paused as I heard him come up behind me. He stepped close behind me and reached his arm past me to put his key in the door. I could feel his warmth behind me, his bulk.

  I leaned on the doorframe, stood up on my tiptoes, stuck my butt out and ground against him. I could feel his erection pressing against my butt and it made me gasp.

  He abandoned his task of opening the door halfway through. “Is this what you want?” He grabbed my hips and ground against my ass.

  “Yes,” I gasped. I was on the verge of losing control. “I want it,” I breathed.

  The door was ajar and I let go of the door frame and pushed through into the apartment. He followed, grabbing me and I grabbed back, and we mashed our mouths together fiercely.

  He pushed me against the door, which closed it, and lifted my legs around him just as he had in the storage closet.

  “Thank fuck Alexis isn’t home,” he muttered into my mouth, his hands scrabbling at the hem of my top.

  I let him take it off and he took his off too, and I felt a pulse of warmth go through me when I felt his skin silky against mine.

  The contact seemed to redouble his desire because he started grinding his erection against me incessantly so that the rhythm pounded my butt against the door as if someone was trying to break in.

  “Now,” I said, desperately, holding his face and kissing him over and over again. “Now.”

  He wrapped his hands around my back and starting walking backward, but not stopping kissing me. We crashed into the wall, then into the bookcase which acted as a room divider. It shifted over a couple of feet and a shelf’s worth of books and trinkets fell to the floor.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, lurching me back in the other direction.

  And then there was a doorway which we bumped through and he was tipping me, breathless, onto a soft bed, and I bounced and lay there.

  He stood over me, his chest heaving, a high flush in his cheeks, his bright brown eyes darker than normal. My mouth was dry as I unbuttoned my jeans and he pulled them off.

  My stomach lurched as I turned on my side, lying on my left leg and bringing my right knee up, tipping my hips toward the mattress, and then looking back up at him with my ass on display.

  His eyes travelled over my body and his mouth gaped open. “Take it off,” he ordered, staring at my ass framed by the black thong.

  I could barely breathe as I turned back onto my back and peeled my thong off. When it reached my thighs he reached down and pulled it off.

  “Holy fuck,” he breathed, staring unabashedly.

  I was so hard that my erection was lying against my abdomen, weeping and leaving a trail across my skin. I could feel myself trembling as I lay there, looking up at him.

  Anxiety pierced me, but somehow it only fed into my need, somehow it only made the infinite dark desire inside me even stronger.

  “You’re even more beautiful than the picture,” he was running his eyes over my limbs, over every part of me.

  “Hurry up,” I said, my eyes on his pants, which were still firmly in place. He didn’t move.

  If I didn’t do this now, I was going to lose my nerve. I could feel the urgency which had seized me downstairs in the street slipping away.

  If I didn’t do this, I was going to end up as a virgin for the rest of my life.

  This was it. Everything else I had been promised was a lie. You could either fuck, like this, or you could be a virgin, and who was to say which was worse?

  Rage swept through me like a forest fire obliterating everything else in its path. I surged upward onto my knees, to the edge of the bed and grabbed hold of the waistband of Marcus’ jeans, undoing the button, ripping open the fly and pushing them down.

  I caught his briefs with the first motion and everything slid down past his knees.

  I knelt there, heart pounding, as his erection bobbed around not a foot from my face. It was pink and elegantly shaped, much like the rest of him, except that his skin was the pale white of bone china.

  His long, lean limbs with their slender, finely-drawn muscles looked far, far better than they had in the
nude he’d sent me. My mouth was watering just looking at him.

  He looked down at me, his eyes dark, and then turned to the nightstand. He opened the drawer and came back with a foil packet I recognized as a condom and a bottle of lube. He tossed them on the bed.

  I pushed him. There was only a narrow space between the bed and the wall, but in the center of the room was a chenille rug.

  “On the floor,” I said, hardly recognizing my own voice.

  I thought I saw a trace of surprise in his look when he met my eye but he obeyed. “Do you want me to lie down?” He said, stopping in the middle of the rug.

  “Yes,” I said, following with the lube and the condoms. I tossed them to him.

  He lay down and unwrapped one, and I watched him unroll it onto his dick with a slight wince.

  “Come here,” he said. “I can’t wait any longer.”

  “You’ll wait,” I said curtly, kneeling beside him on the rug. “You’ll wait until I’m ready.”

  A thrill of power went through me at the words and I couldn’t believe I was the one who had spoken them. I ignored the rapid pounding of my heart as I squeezed lube into my hand and spread my legs a little.

  This was how I always did it at home.

  He watched me, the blush spreading down his neck as his eyes started to glaze over and his mouth gaped open.

  “That’s so hot,” he murmured. “Work it like that, baby, oh, yes.”

  “Shut up,” I said as I suppressed the urge to touch my dick to make it easier to slide two fingers inside myself.

  My fingers slipped around the slick edges of my asshole with familiarity. I bit my lip at the well-known initial sting and burn.

  “You’re a bossy little bitch,” he muttered, his hand straying toward his erection.

  “Don’t touch yourself,” I snapped.

  I had two fingers in now and was slowly stretching myself out. I reached upward, trying to find the spot, but I could never reach it wth my fingers. I flexed my hips, rising up on my knees, and let my fingers be sucked deeper inside.

  “Anthony,” Marcus gasped, watching me leaning back on his elbows. I could see his face twitching with impatience. “Anthony,” he said again.

  I pushed back on my fingers, feeling the pleasure start to radiate from my asshole, and searching deeper with my fingers, trying to find the spot inside me that needed to be touched right now.

  The dark void inside me was starting to open again, a vast ocean of desire lapping at me, and I remembered how it had taken me in Duane Tyrone’s bathroom at four in the morning, how it had milked me dry.

  I heard myself let out a low, desperate sound. I couldn’t find the spot. Frustration was making me hot in the face.

  My void gaped and split its sides, flooding dark liquid through me. I found my eyes fixed on Marcus’ cock, which was curving back toward his stomach. I noticed how hard I was breathing and I licked my lips.

  “Anthony,” Marcus gasped, his fingers gripping the rug and slowly curling into fists, bunching it into his grip.

  “Beg,” I said shortly, removing my fingers from my ass and crawling toward him.

  I picked up the lube and squeezed the bottle. A stream of clear lube glopped over the condom stretched over his erect dick.

  Marcus gasped, his chest heaving. I straddled him and laid my knees alongside his hips. I felt the dark void spread to fill every corner of my body.

  He reached up and ran his hands up my thighs to my hips and groaned. “You want me to beg,” he gasped.

  “I don’t need you for this,” I lied, reaching my hand behind me once more and rubbing behind my balls until I let out a moan.

  “Let me fuck you,” Marcus’s hands were slippery on my thighs, massaging with a powerful grip. “Oh god, Anthony, you’ve done a number on me, you little fucking beauty.”

  I rose on my knees and moved up his body until I was kneeling above his dick. His fingers gripped my hips almost painfully.

  “More,” I said, staring into his eyes, which were so dark with arousal, they seemed to be the same color as the void inside me, black, infinite and savage.

  “You look so good,” he panted. “You look so tight. Please,” he was pink and white, like a flower. “I’ve been wanking myself raw thinking about you since last night. I want to be inside you.”

  Darkness surged inside me, thick and viscous, I didn’t know if it was liquid or smoke. My instinct was to scrunch my face up in anticipation, but I forced my mouth into a small O and took a deep breath, then another, as I lowered myself until I felt the tip of his cock against my asshole.

  I whimpered. The void screamed to be filled and its cry was unbearable.

  “Oh god,” Marcus muttered, holding my hips even tighter.

  I breathed in deeply and as my sphincter relaxed I slipped down over his cock. I couldn’t help the moan that was pulled from deep in my diaphragm as I felt my sphincter stretch smoothly over the glans of his penis and then the sensation of his warm shaft penetrating deep inside me.

  I gasped like a fish thrown onto dry land, leaning my hands on his stomach, as my ass cheeks came to rest on his balls.

  I moaned again, unable to control the sound. The void had filled up every nook and cranny of my body from my toes up to my eyeballs and I could feel it taking me now.

  I moved and sat up straighter and his cock brushed against my prostate and another moan flowed from deep inside me, and I felt the darkness of the void, a thick liquid, spill out over my eyelids and run down my face.

  “Oh babes,” Marcus’ voice was trembling. “Are you alright?” His hands smoothed up and down my legs, hips and flanks. “Am I hurting you, princess?” His hands took mine and linked our fingers. “Do you want to stop?”

  The void pushed more and more outward, flowing out of my eyes and down my face and making it hard to breathe.

  Marcus thought I was crying because I was a virgin and I didn’t know how to handle a dick inside me. Marcus didn’t know I had a purple dildo twice his girth which I rode liberally and on a whim.

  I pulled him toward me, making him sit up, and reached for him. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my face.

  I was sobbing. The void had claimed me. I kissed him messily, and he kissed back, and I started to move against him while we were enmeshed there on the rug. “Ah,” I gasped over and over again as he hit my prostate and created a raw, hot, needy place that needed to be touched again and again. “Ah, ah, ah—”

  “Is that the right spot, babes,” he mumbled in between kisses, pawing at me, unfocused, his limbs slick and hot and firm and all around me. “Am I getting the right spot—”

  “Lay me down,” I panted, pulling at him.

  He groaned and held me and turned us over. My back hit the rug and when I felt his weight settle on me, I lost all control.

  He braced his hand beside my head and suddenly nothing could happen fast enough and nothing could happen hard enough.

  I clung to him with my legs and rutted against him. I moved until I found the angle again and then he was pounding the sweet spot inside me.

  It had never been like this before, never.

  I’d never felt this fever, heating up every inch of my skin, making every part of me that touched Marcus feel as if it was being rubbed off.

  I’d never felt this frenzy as every second mounted on the next in unrelenting intensity.

  The weight of him on top of me, the pressure inside me and on my erection, trapped helplessly between us as he rolled over me again and again, was something I had never felt before, and it was so intense that I didn’t know how I could stand it for another moment.

  Is this how he used to fuck Damaris?

  That was when I heard the sound of skin slapping against skin as he fucked me.

  I almost lost my mind when I heard that sound, but my mind was gone anyway, as the black void moved up past my eyes and seeped into my brain, soaking through the spongy tissue and my neural pathways and obliterating everything, rati
onal thought, hope, love, and all of my dreams.

  The void had taken everything inside me so that Marcus was fucking an empty shell only filled with a thick roaring liquid darkness which escaped from my body through my eyes.

  I was still sobbing, with pleasure or pain—I couldn’t tell the difference anymore— I knew it was coming, and I let it—I embraced it, opened my arms to it.

  What did it matter, now that I was nothing?

  It was the vision that always came to me when I was reaching the point of orgasm, and which I never let myself think about ever, at any other time.

  It wasn’t Marcus any more. It was Damaris filling me and claiming me.

  I gasped as I imagined her moaning into my ear and her breasts sliding across my chest.

  Anthony, she gasped into my ear as she fucked me. I love you, Anthony.

  I knew distantly that I was moaning with every breath, but I kept the words inside my head, where I only I could hear them.

  Damaris— I love you, Damaris. Oh, St Sebastian, fuck me, Damaris—

  The desire to say her name manifested itself and grew with every thrust of my hips.

  I cried out, and I felt the name form within me, and I knew it was coming out, and it came on a mounting tide of pleasure, as if her name itself carried pleasure through me.

  “—Ma—ris—” I stuttered, trying to make her name sound more like Marcus’. “—Ma—ris—” I moaned, cutting off the offending syllables of her name.

  I was going to come soon—very soon—

  “Oh, Anthony,” Marcus groaned, and he must have heard me and thought I’d said his name. “I’m—Anthony, I’m going to—”

  He thrust into me violently once, twice, and on the third time he groaned and moaned, “Anthony—Anthony—fuck—oh—” and he was holding me so tightly in the throes of orgasm that I felt as if I was going be ripped in half.

  He stopped thrusting and lay there shaking and panting. When he raised his head to look at me, sweat dripped off the tip of his nose.

  “I want to make you come,” he gasped. “Let me suck you off.”