by Jane Brooke
She wanted to laugh, some how she felt Ash had liberated her sense of humor. She was a demented Genie let loose from the lamp. Jane was now positive about that. J
Jane was terrified, electrified, she wanted to run, stay, run, she did not know.
But, she wasn’t running anywhere, she couldn’t. It was exactly what she wanted in her lifetime of denial.
She then gulped, for she felt it, pressed, dug deep into her cunt.
“Ohhhh Nooooooo,” Blasted from her lips. “WOOOW. Oooh Fuck.”
Her eyes felt like lightening bolts, cracking, rotating to the back of her head, as Ash touched her anus with her finger.
Jane did not know if the heathen was teasing her or was she about to be sodomized? It was a coin flip in her mind and she could not wait to see the twirling coin, heads or tails, both sides she felt we’re a win.
The absurdity of it all almost made Jane break out in laughter.
“Oooooh Goood.” She groaned.
She of course had never had anal sex before, fantasizing about it continually.
She GULPED, as Ash ripped the dildo into her cunt, again.
Sparks and flames in her brain and now a finger and heat in her ass, dildo in her cunt as her entire body like some kind of over stretched white rubber band went rigid.
Electric Orgasm. Again.
She whimpered, gulped, hyperventilated as a scream for oxygen spilled out of her lips as she ignored the welts on her forehead from the bricks as she pushed back into the dildo.
Obedient now, a pawn in some interstellar freak show chess game, she stayed right there as then in and out the dildo went.
One, two, three, she screamed in panic, pain and pleasure, orgasm and still she couldn’t move as Ash went deeper into her cunt one last time and then pressed two fingers into her ass.
Limp, like a doll, Ash then whipped her around, slammed her against the bricks, hand still holding the dildo strong. Jane’s lips were stuttering, her eyes blazing and tearing and blinking.
She was terrified, frightened and absolutely maniacal as she leered into Ash’s wild green eyes.
They we’re blasting and her breath was exploding out of her lungs. Jane could see perspiration covering those teak shoulders, collar bones, drip, drip dripping down her face, all mingling somewhere hidden right near those small breasts.
With her small clutch still hanging along her chest, along her side, Ash reached back, lifted her skirt with one hand and with the other she roughly grabbed Jane’s blond at the back of her head. She roughly ripped Jane’s head back and drove her lips against hers. She took Jane’s hand and shoved it to her laser cut mound and between her wet-vagina.
A blast of air erupted out of Jane’s lips, for the heat, the texture of her skin felt as if her fingers we’re burning. Jane could feel liquids spilling down her thighs.
Ash moaned, threw her head back and growled. She jerked Jane sideway’s. Ash was out of control as she slammed Jane against the blue dumpster. No hesitation, adrenaline pumping and with those corded and striated arms, she lifted Jane like she was a gram of salt.
She plopped Jane on to the lid of the dumpster, legs flopping over the edge, her heels banging the dumpster walls. Ash pushed Jane onto back. Lost, so very lost, Jane stared at the stars and full moon.
She no longer knew who she was or what she was.
All she could do was re-dream of how Ash’s perfect skin felt, her lips and those hot liquids and she wanted more. Jane wanted to touch her, to taste her, for Ash was the neon on the heroin needle point now and Jane knew she needed another fix.
She felt metabolized, her tummy heaving, as she lifted her head and gulped again, for ash was staring at her, semi naked her. Exposed now, no shame any longer, she saw Ash leering at her cunt. Ash smiled, touched the eighth of an inch of blond hair there and, gave Jane a shy, yet mischievous look. She wagged her finger at Jane playfully and whispered.
“Tsk, Tsk, darling, we shall fix that later.”
LATER, FIX WHAT? Jane asked herself.
Jane suddenly realized that the modern women, girls, who shaved their legs, arm pits and waxed every bitch hair on their bodies off now have lined up at the laser beam office like they were giving away free condums and had killed the last hair left below their eyelashes on their bodies.
Ash smiled and, then she went down on Jane, her silken fingers pressed against each white thigh’s that were splayed wide open as she laid on the dumpster lid.
“OOOOh...Nooooo.” Lazed from the new dream girl’s lips as she laid on her back staring at the moon.
She felt paralyzed as her body tensed hard and she felt Ash’s lips kissing her, her tongue doing something to her cunt, clit as her heels banged at the dumpster front wall and, then Jane white knuckled the sides of the dumpster. Her teeth were gritting, as after a moment Jane screamed, wildly shook her head back and forth, and came.
“AAHHHH...OOOOOH...NOOOOO.” Jane stuttered as is she had Tourettes.
Jane started to sob, yet still she wanted more.
She then heard a “buzz, buzz, buzz” sound through the explosions in her brain. She was laying there with her legs spread wide open and dangling over the side of the dumpster.
Ash stood, her face was covered in sweat and cum and she looked like banal lunatic, crazed and on a pure maniacal role of madness.
She opened her clutch, took her cell, saw something on it. She danced her thumbs along the key board, slapped it shut and placed it back into her clutch. She reaches forward, took Jane’s hands and yanked her forward. Jane and with her underwear around her ankles and mesmerized stared though star eyes at Ash, who whispered.
“Marcel, darling. The paparazzi have returned, come, we must go.
Jane sluiced off of the dumpster and fell to her knees. Ash reached down, and collected her into her arms. Jane was sobbing, deconstructed, rebuilt in Ash’s fury, as Jane petted her wet hair like a pet and whispered.
“There, there, my Jane, you we’re very brave, come, we must go. So much fun still too have.”
Sniffling, weeping, Jane’s body felt like granulated sugar. Ash supported her, smiled, twirled on a heel, looked at Jane’s underwear and giggled as she tilted her eyes to them.
Jane blushed, pulled them back on to her body and watched as Ash grabbed her white cashmere cape and, then giggling, hand and hand they ran to the mouth of the alley.
Ash peeked around the corner, lifted her forefinger to her lips. Jane smiled as then a black 500 Mercedes, lean like her, tinted windows rumbled up to the alley entrance, Marcel driving.
Ash leading, took Jane by the hand, opened the door. She was a real gentleman. She looked down the street, where many patrons were as well as about a dozen paparazzi.
She took Jane by the waist, layered a kiss on her lips, broke away, laughed and hurled her into the back of the Benz.
Through the tinted windows Jane saw flash bulbs exploding as then and through her laughter and gaiety Ash slammed into the Benz and closed the door, as Marcel hit the accelerator-peddle. The wheels smoked as he roared the black Mercedes into the night of Manhattan. Where they were going, Jane did not know, nor did she care.
Ash with her hand on Jane’s knee, smiled.
Where they we’re going, what they we’re doing well, all of it was so fucking surreal and along for the ride, Jane could have cared less.
And, then in the still usable parts of the back of her mind she wondered if they were going to find her mutilated body in Jersey in the morning. Maybe a Barbie Doll crammed in her cunt, Jane mumbling gibberish about some teak colored chic she just met from the flick AVATAR.
Who gives a fuck. Jane thought as long as they were going there together.
Central Park, Tavern on the Green, Plaza strung of light jewels across the strand, perfect. Jane felt she didn’t
belong on this turf any longer. She was changing. She simply didn’t care about status and meaningless things any longer.
Like Michael Schumacher, Marcel racked into the curb of The Plaza, parked as valets alerted, knew Ash and loved her. They seemed filled with glee, smiles, and envy and jealousy, Jane was not sure about anything.
She felt she was Ash’s pick for the night, and ain’t she just such a lucky girl and didn’t they fucking know it.
Ash gave Marcel some words. He nodded, entered the Benz and roared off into the night. In and out of the glorious and ornate lobby both girls went. Eyes were gawking, staring at the human whirl wind as they passed them.
Elevator music, the Velvet Fog, Ash pressed against Jane, leering into her eyes and kissed her. Her fingers fell to Jane’s butt. Jane moaned.
Ash pressed closer whispering in French, nibbling at Jane’s ear, her hand under Jane’s lifted skirt, her aquiline fingers dancing all over her clit. Jane felt helpless a ball of dizzy, undulating like a bowl of Jello from so many neurons being displaced.
She almost started stuttering in tongues, but she did not.
She could feel warm cum dripping down her thighs, and that made her feel like she was going to rip Ash’s clothes off right then in the elevator, go to her knees and beg Ash to fuck her with the dildo again.
“CA-CHING.”
The elevator door opened.
Ash was manic, happy. Can geniuses ever really be happy?
Jane did not know as down the hall they ran Jane’s stilettos feeling like they burning off of her feet.
Door opened as Ash lead Jane into her opulent suite.
Open door, more pouts of French, broken English too, she was in some kind of manic role, mesmerizing, her voice had changed. She now had a heavy Garbo, French/German, Jane didn’t know or did she care accent.
“Jest zee moment darling.” (DARLING?)
FUCK, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
The old guise, something a little bit more comfortable as Ash, totally in some new character now purred. “Please, be zee darling, an aperitif, Cognac, at zee bar, Merci Jane Mon mi.”
Jane’s eyes focused, finally. She saw there were about a zillions vases of flowers all in concert within the elegance of the room.
“Someone loves her, adores her, why fucking not. Obey, what the fuck else am I going to do? If she asked me to kill Putin I would find some way to do it.” Jane whispered to herself.
Pour one for Ash and one for her.
“Clink, clink, clink,” ice cubes the color of her eyes, and as that rare Russian faceted stone, Alexandrite, Jane remembered how Ash’s eye color had changed, fueled by something in her savant brain, she supposed.
She heard bare feet, turned, she gasped.
Naked now, head to toe, smiling at her, was Ash.
“That was definitely something more comfortable. Oh Christ, too late for God now.” Jane whispered.
She stared at her teak skinned colored colored skin, laser cunt, so pallid she simply was a singular color, translucent, ghostly, a living beige Moonstone.
Jane could almost see the light transposed through her slender body. She had to be an alien, a dream, but that look in her emerald eyes told Jane that she was real; very fucking real.
“Why me?” Jane whispered to herself.
She glided standing still, almost, tiny feet and, then was standing before Jane.
Ash took the Cognac, sipped, Jane sipped. Ash seemed to be undulating right before Jane’s eyes.
Ash slammed her drink down, poured herself another. Jane did the same.
Having such great manners, Ash, the fella obviously, poured Jane’s glass full.
Like a long shore man, Man was very masculine for her new role, drank hers down. Jane did the same thing. She took Jane’s glass, sets both on the teak bar, turned, moved and swayed before her.
Like some kind of Stanford chemist, she seemed to understand how the alcohol would bend their moods, intensify them and so far she had been perfect.
Lead I shall follow. Jane thought
Jane stared at her and thankfully, no wind, no breeze for Ash was so willow like, muscled and thin and as leaves falling from a tree Jane thought she might be deconstructed by the slightest breeze. That was how frail she appeared, yet so powerful, deceiving. Jane knew that now.
Jane was buzzed, semi stoned, no words, just two sets of burning eyes welded together. Ash turned and hand and hand, girlfriends now they began to move across the opulent suite.
Inside of Jane’s body, her heart wept. The cognac spinning in her brain and any resolve she had left to defend herself was gone hours ago.
Ash led her across the Persian rugs, past the fine art and cut crystal chandelier, into the bedroom they went.
Jane did not protest. Christ, she could hardly breathe. She felt soiled, sweat, cum, dumpsters, garbage in the alley, she loved it.
Christ she loved it so.
She needed a shower, badly for how in the hell did she ever know she was going to end up swaddled with in the teak feathered wings of an angel, or the anti Christ. How was she even remotely going to know that this was going to happen.
Was it happening?
Mind reader, mind fucker, crystal ball girl, Ash understood, so into the bathroom they went.
Classic, massive brown marble tub, gold double spigots struck out of the tiled wall, one high, one low. Ash set Jane down and like a Geisha untied the ankle straps of Jane’s heels, slipped them off of her feet.
She stripped Jane naked like a foiled sweet candy treat. One of those sweets you find on your pillow.
Except Jane now was not made of chocolate rings, but of skin, blood, gold, black ribbon hair, saliva, heat, and pretty perfect feminine things.
Ash was quite clearly a maniac and Jane loved it.
Jane’s eyes, like lug nuts, leered at Ash’s perfect lasered cunt. Ash noticed.
Jane blushed, whispered. “I do not shave.”
Ash smiled as Jane remembered Ash’s finger wag at her in the alley, and the words” “We shall take care of that later.”
She helped Jane struggle to her feet. Jane swayed, was fizzed out, naked now as Ash wrapped her arms around her.
FUCK. Jane thought.
She once swam with dolphins in The Caymans and thought Ash’s skin felt the same as the Dolphins skin.
Down, down Ash went, fingers probing, Jane gushing, drenched, her bare feet were vibrating. Ash seemed not to notice, found Jane’s clitoris, pinched it gently with her finger tips.
Jane was ready to erupt from her skin.
Her fingers wrapped around Jane’s butt, moved around like a white eel, squeezed as Jane groaned. “Oooooh, I....I....Oooooh.”
Ash pressed her lips on Jane’s, kissed the coos of pleasure sweetly from jane’s lips. Jane felt intoxicated from her warm breath. Her skin felt like satin, barely wrapped around her muscles and bones. Jane never felt anything so beautiful in her life.
Kisses again, Jane’s breathing was swelling, one more kiss, then an adjustment to new steaming water, throwing steam out, water beading on Ash’s skin.
Ash smiled, curled a finger to Jane’s eyes. Jane obeyed. She’d have her lips sewn together if that would have made Ash happy.
She’d do anything, everything, just to receive one more kiss, one more touch, one more pungent gasp of breath cruising from those lips, warming her neck, burning her soul as they did.
Shower adjustments time, aiming the water tendrils away, as she set Jane down and, then like a prank filled kid, sprayed her, head to pedicured toes.
“Giggle, giggle, giggle’s” fell from Jane’s lips.
Now, water and sex thoughts brought white light to Jane’s brain. Ash, so playful, so cute, so fucking dangerous and, then she was kneeling before
Jane, soap, razor, smiles and mischief in her eyes.
Jane could barely capture her breath. She couldn’t seem to focus her eyes, simply could not blink.
Ash soaped her, leaned in, kissed her and whispered in French.
“Jane, etes-vous si belle, si belle. Notre sexe sera remarquable. Merci ma belle.
Jane closed her eyes and dreamed. She just told her that she was so beautiful and there sex together would be remarkable.
She could have been speaking Mandarin; Jane did not care for she was having problems focusing her hearing.
Jane was blond, fare, white skin, not like Ash in any way as then Ash shaved every hair from Jane’s cunt liked she owned it, which she did.
Bath time didn’t seem to be on Ash’s mind as she stood and towered over Jane.
Jane gasped seeing the space between her thighs.
Jane knew that Ash was one of those whisper girls, so thin nothing touches. Her ribs were striated, hip bones jutting, collar-bones, cunt like a topaz colored diamond Jane once saw in the window at Tiffany’s.
Jane could see every blue blood vein pushing and pulsating against her skin, moving from her tummy to her cunt. She felt an orgasm rumbling somewhere just peeking from Ash’s toes to her face. Nothing so erotica nor demonic and so marvelous had she ever seen.
Adjusting the spray, she kneeled before Jane, oval eyes just inches away, pouting lips, white teeth biting those lips, pink tongue edged and pulsing. She wrapped her fingers around the back of Jane’s head, pulled her in and layered a kiss along Jane’s lips.
Tongues on tongues, lips on lips, gentle, probing, breathing increasing, she was not rough.
There were girls like that, maybe in my fucking dreams. Jane thought.
Everything about her was miniature, hands, fingers, tongue, body, except her eyes and so full lips. Jane thought that they were perfect. The smooches went on and on as did the ballet of her fingers along Jane’s spine and rump.
Jane’s breasts were small, one of the better qualities, she thought.
Ash’s were smaller, almost, as they met, pressed bodies against bodies and, then as if Ash knew, she moved away, not far, took a breast and a nipple between her lips and kissed it sweetly.