Glamorama

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Glamorama Page 44

by Bret Easton Ellis


  I drop to my knees and start licking Jamie’s pussy, my fingers spreading her lips, and as her hands massage my hair I lean her against the shower wall—Bobby still behind me on his knees, his finger moving in and out of my asshole, another hand running over my hard, cubed abs—and I keep running my tongue from her clit to her asshole and placing one of her legs over my shoulder I suck her clit into my mouth as I fuck her with two then three fingers and then I move my tongue into her asshole, fucking it with my tongue while my fingers tug on her clit, and when I stand up Bobby’s finger slips out of my hole and I turn Jamie around and squatting down behind her I spread her small, firm ass cheeks open and start pumping my tongue in and out of her ass hole and then I slide my tongue deep inside her anus and keep it there while rubbing her clit until she comes .…

  After we dry off we move into Jamie and Bobby’s bedroom, next to the giant bed which has been stripped of its sheets, and all the lights in the room are on so we can see everything and Jamie’s squeezing my cock, sucking on its head, and I’m watching Bobby walk over to a drawer and when he bends down his ass cheeks spread wide, briefly exposing his asshole as he picks up a bottle of lotion, and when he turns around his cock is sticking up in a full erection and he strides back to us as I’m watching Jamie put one finger inside her pussy and then pull it out and then she starts stroking her clit and then she brings that finger up to my mouth and I start sucking on it. She sticks her finger back into her vagina and when she pulls it out she offers it to me again and I take her hand, licking the saltiness from her finger, sucking on it, and then I pull her face to mine and while I kiss her my hands slide down to her ass, then up to her waist and then up to the heavy firmness of her tits, my palms passing lightly over her tiny nipples, causing them to harden, while she keeps trembling, moaning. Then I lay her on the bed and kneeling at the side of it I smell her cunt lips, inhaling deeply, beads of water still clinging to her pubic hair, and I’m breathing gently on her and with one finger I trace the outline of her labia, not parting them yet, just teasing, and then I slide one finger deep into her pussy, playing with her clit as I watch it deepen in color, and she’s lying back on the bed, her eyes closed, and then I’m strumming my tongue along her clit and then I lift her hips up and I’m spreading her ass open until I can see the pink inside it .…

  I move my mouth back up to her tits, sucking hard on the nipples while squeezing the breasts beneath them, and then I slide down again, my tongue traveling down the line bisecting her body, and Jamie raises then spreads her legs, her clit totally engorged now, but I barely touch it at first, deliberately avoiding it, causing Jamie to shift around continuously, trying to place herself against my tongue, whimpering, and when my tongue lightly laps at it her clit gets firmer, bigger, and my hands are squeezing the backs of her legs and then the insides of her thighs and I’m still fucking her with my tongue and when I lift her hips up again I start sucking on her asshole. Bobby’s leaning in, staring intently as my tongue goes in and out of her anus while he strokes his prick off. “God, you’re so wet,” I’m whispering. “You’re so fucking wet.” I start pumping a finger into her vagina and Jamie’s bucking her hips as I move my mouth up and suck the whole labia into my mouth and then I lick her clit again, causing Jamie to thrash out another orgasm .…

  In front of me Jamie steps into Bobby’s arms and he places a huge hand under her chin and tilts her face upward and he kisses her deeply, their pink tongues entwined, and Jamie’s hand falls onto Bobby’s cock and she squeezes it and then she eases Bobby down onto the bed next to where I’m lying, his head at my feet, his dick at my face, and Jamie drops to her knees beside the bed and starts licking the sides of Bobby’s prick while she’s staring at me and Bobby’s moaning and he’s tonguing my feet and Jamie raises then lowers her mouth, taking in as much of his cock as she can while Bobby’s hips keep thrusting upward. She climbs onto the bed and raises herself over Bobby’s dick then slowly lowers herself, her eyes riveted on mine as his cock slides into her pussy, and then she pulls it out until she’s rubbing her slit over the head and then she falls onto it again and it slides into her effortlessly and then she stops, stays still, letting her cunt accustom itself, and then she starts riding Bobby’s cock, rising up to its tip then lowering herself down hard onto his pelvis, Bobby groaning as he pumps into her, and suddenly all her muscles contract at once and she’s trying not to come but she loses control and starts yelling “fuck me fuck me fuck” and somewhere across the room a beeper goes off, is ignored .…

  I’m on my knees in front of Bobby and he’s urging me to lift his penis up so I can smell his balls and then he pushes my head back and slides his cock all the way into my mouth and I’m gagging, choking for air, but Bobby keeps it there until my throat relaxes, his hands on either side of my head guiding me up and down on his penis, then pulling it way out but keeping the head in my mouth and then pushing his cock back into my throat until my upper lip is buried in his pubic hair and my nose is pressing against his hard, taut abdomen, his balls tight against my chin. When I look up, his head is thrown back, only the point of his chin visible above the thickly corded column of his neck. Bobby’s abdominal muscles taper down from under his chest to the narrower ones at the base of his stomach and one of my hands is rubbing over them, my other hand on the place where his back fleshes out into the curves of his ass, and I’m swallowing hard, my lips slicked over with my own spit and Bobby’s pre-come, and I run my tongue around the head, sucking up and down, going all the way to the base of it in a slow, steady motion, my nose buried in Bobby’s sweaty pubic hair, and then he starts fucking my face harder .…

  Bobby falls back on the bed and hoists me up, positioning me so he can start sucking my dick while I’m sucking his, and he’s deep throating me, his head going all the way down and all the way up each time, sucking hard on my cock as it emerges from his mouth coated with saliva and then swallowing it as he goes back down, our hips rotating slightly, in rhythm. Then Bobby rolls over and lies flat on his stomach, one knee cocked, his balls resting on the bed beneath the crack of his ass, and Jamie’s spreading the cheeks of Bobby’s ass apart and, panting, I lean down and kiss his asshole, immediately sticking my tongue in it, and Bobby’s responding by raising his hips until he’s on his knees and elbows and I start drilling his asshole with my tongue, feeling it expand slightly then contract and then expand again and then Jamie moves to the top of the bed and spreads her legs in front of his face, holding his head, and he tries to get at her pussy but she’s sitting on it and he moves backward taking Jamie with him until she’s lying on her back, raising and spreading her legs in front of Bobby’s face, and he starts eating her pussy until he turns her over onto her hands and knees and starts eating her pussy from behind and he’s emitting loud groaning noises that are muffled from between her legs and I start lubing Bobby’s asshole with the lotion he brought to the bed .…

  I’m sitting back on my heels and Jamie leans over and starts sucking my cock, spitting on it until it’s slathered with saliva, and then I stand on my knees and push Jamie away, keeping Bobby’s ass spread with the fingers of one hand and lubing my cock up with the other, and then I guide the head of my penis up against his asshole, grasping his hips, holding them steady, shoving gently forward until I can’t help myself—I start fucking him really hard, my stomach slapping up against his ass while Jamie holds on to me, bringing me back each time I lunge forward. I let go of one hip and reach down and around to find Bobby’s hand stroking his stiff dick, jerking it off, matching each stroke with my thrusts, and I close my hand around Bobby’s and the rocking motion we’re making causes my hand to automatically go back and forth and I start riding him harder, breathing so fast I think my heart’s going to stop, totally flushed. “Easy, easy,” I hear him moan. “Don’t come yet .…”

  Bobby grabs my cock and helps me guide it into Jamie’s pussy and I slide my penis up into her while holding her thighs from beneath, reaching my arms around them, doubling her u
p, and then I grab both her tits and start sucking on them while I’m fucking her, her cunt sucking on my cock as she rocks from side to side, her pussy totally responding and sucking me in when I pull back, and then I’m slamming into her, grunting with each thrust, and her face is bright red and she’s crying out, heaving against me, and then I pull out and turn her over, spreading her ass cheeks with the thumb and finger of one hand and while I’m sliding a finger in and out Bobby slathers my cock with more lube and, grasping Jamie’s hips while rotating my own, I push my rock-hard cock slowly into Jamie’s rectum, feeling it stretch out, not even waiting until she’s loosened up to start fucking her ass really hard. Bobby leans down, watching my dick disappear then reappear, Jamie’s asshole clinging to it, and then positions himself at the head of the bed and grasping the headboard for leverage he slides his hips forward, raising and spreading his legs so Jamie can eat out his asshole while he jerks off. Releasing a hip, I reach down and squeeze Jamie’s breasts again, running my hand down her stomach until I find her clit, and with two fingers I start rubbing it, then fingerfucking her while she continues eating Bobby’s ass out, sometimes sucking his dick .…

  Jamie stands up on the bed and straddles Bobby at hip level. She lowers herself over his cock and grasps it with one hand and then feeds it up into her cunt until she’s sitting down on it, leaning forward, flattening out on Bobby, her breasts pushed into his face, and Bobby holds them with both hands while sucking on her nipples. I’m crouching between Bobby’s legs inside Jamie’s and I spread her cheeks and start fingering her asshole, which is pushed out and distended from the pressure of having Bobby’s large cock filling her. I sit back on my heels, my erection twitching, and when I spread Jamie’s cheeks even wider she raises her hips, causing Bobby to slide out of her until only the head of his cock remains inserted between the lips of her cunt and then my cock slides effortlessly back up into Jamie’s ass. Carefully Jamie settles back down on Bobby’s cock while I bounce gently up and down, Bobby’s cock going all the way in while my dick slides halfway out, and we can both feel Jamie’s vaginal muscles contracting powerfully during her orgasm as she convulses between us .…

  “Here, lift up,” Bobby’s saying as I raise my hips, and he quickly slides a towel under my ass and I’m touching the contours of his chest, tracing the line bisecting his body, and he’s spreading my legs while leaning over and kissing me hard on the mouth, his lips thick and wet, and one finger, then two fingers, start moving in and out of my asshole and both of us are glistening with sweat and my head’s in Jamie’s lap and she’s holding me, whispering things in my ear, leaning over and stroking my erection. “Yeah, show me that dick, Victor,” Bobby says. “Keep stroking it, that’s it. Spread your legs. Wider. Lift them up. Let me see your asshole.” He lifts my legs up and pushes my knees back and I can feel him spreading my legs open, inspecting that area. “Yeah, you’ve got a nice pink butthole, man. I’m looking at it right now. You want me to fuck it, huh?” I’m bracing myself, gazing intently up at Bobby, who is expressionless, and I’m not sure how many fingers are in my ass right now and his hand starts moving in a circular motion, fingers moving deeper until I have to grab his wrist, whispering “Easy, man, easy” and with his other hand he keeps twisting my nipples until they’re sore and burning and my head’s lodged in Jamie’s armpit and I have to strain my muscles to keep from coming too soon .…

  “Wait,” I groan, lifting my head up. “Do you have a condom?”

  “What?” he asks. “Oh man, do you care?”

  “It’s okay.” I lean back.

  “You want me to fuck you?” he’s asking.

  “Yeah, it’s okay.”

  “You want me to fuck you with this cock?” he’s asking, hoisting my legs up over his shoulders.

  “Yeah, fuck me.”

  Jamie watches carefully as Bobby slides his long, thick cock in and out of my asshole and then starts increasing the length and depth of his thrusts, pulling his prick almost all the way out and then slamming it in again, his cock pumping my prostate, and I’m looking up at him and shouting out and his abs are straining with each thrust and he tries to steady himself by holding on to my shoulders, the muscles in his arms bulging with the effort, and his eyebrows are furrowed and his face—usually impassive—now scowls briefly with pleasure. “Yeah, fuck him, fuck him harder,” Jamie’s chanting. Bobby keeps slipping his cock in and out of me, both of us groaning with relief, intensity rising, and then I’m yelling out, convulsing uncontrollably, both of us bucking wildly as I start ejaculating, shooting up onto my shoulders and then my chest as Bobby keeps fucking me, my anus contracting around his thrusting cock. “Yeah, that’s it, that’s it, man,” Bobby groans, coming, collapsing on top of me .…

  27

  Afterwards, back in the shower by myself, water spraying over me, I’m delicately touching my asshole, which seems distended, tender, slick with lotion and Bobby’s semen, the flesh feeling pierced. Stepping out of the shower, I dry off, avoiding my reflection in a giant mirror, afraid of what I might see in it. I scan the counter for a comb, deodorant, aspirin. I peer into a medicine cabinet but it’s empty. I start opening drawers: a Breitling watch, two Cartier tank rings (one citrine, one amethyst), a pair of diamond-studded sunglasses, a bottle of cologne called Ambush, a container of Shiseido moisturizer. In another drawer: dozens of Chanel lipsticks, an issue of Harper’s Bazaar with Tammy on the cover, a few dried roses and—in a clear plastic bag in the bottom drawer of the bathroom Jamie and Bobby share—a large black hat, folded over.

  I hesitate before taking the bag out of the drawer, because something in me says not to. Instinct says not to.

  I’m holding the bag up in front of my face, averting my eyes.

  The sound of a fly whirring around my head causes me to look at the bag.

  In the bag is the hat Lauren Hynde gave me in New York.

  The hat Palakon told me to bring with me on the QE2.

  Its entire inner flap has been removed.

  A large, gaping hole exists where the small red rose was.

  One side of the hat is dotted with pink and green confetti.

  I can’t even touch the bag anymore. I just keep swallowing involuntarily until I carefully place it back in the drawer and then I slowly close the drawer. But this is a dream, this is a movie—repeating that calms me down but in the back of my mind, faintly, darkly, is the sound of laughter and it’s coming from a grave and it’s whispery, blaming.

  Naked, clutching a towel, I slowly move into the bedroom where Jamie and Bobby are sleeping deeply, gracefully, on a flat sheet soaked with our sweat even though it’s so cold in this room

  the room is a trap. The question about the hat will never be asked. The question about the hat is a big black mountain and the room is a trap. A photo of your expressionless face is on the cover of a magazine, a gun lies on top of an icy nightstand. It’s winter in this room and this room is a trap

  that my breath is steaming as I keep staring down at Jamie and Bobby sleeping on the bed.

  On Bobby’s shoulder is a tattoo, black and shapeless, I never noticed before.

  A QE2 flashback, a montage with strobe lights.

  The smell of the sea, an October afternoon, the Atlantic moving slowly below us, midnight, meeting Marina outside Club Lido, her voice raspy from crying, the fog machines, Marina backlit in front of a bathroom drawer, how shy she seemed at the railing, how purposefully she moved around my cabin, the hooded parka.

  There was the hair hanging over Marina’s face. And there was the hooded parka.

  There was the tattoo, black and shapeless, on her right shoulder blade.

  This tattoo did not exist the afternoon we first met.

  You never saw Marina’s face that night.

  “You have to go to London,” a voice whispered.

  That night, you never touched her body.

  You understand that something incomplete is being revealed.

  An unscheduled stop mid-cr
ossing.

  Someone climbs aboard a ship.

  A girl you didn’t save was doomed.

  It’s all very clear but you have to keep guessing.

  It’s what you don’t know that matters most. This is what the director told you.

  I dress, then stagger outside.

  When I look back up at the house he’s standing in a bedroom window. He’s looking down at me. He’s holding a finger to his lips. He’s saying “Shhh.”

  26

  Because métro service doesn’t begin until 5:30 I’m walking aimlessly through a dark early-morning fog, staggering for long stretches, until automatic timers turn the streetlights off and clubs are just closing and a figure, a specter, strolling by smiles venomously at me and in the fog the outlines of glass and concrete towers keep shifting shapes and without thinking about direction I find myself walking toward the Eiffel Tower, through the Parc du Champ de Mars and then across the Seine on the Pont d’Iéna and then past the Palais de Chaillot. A pigeon bursts out of the fog, leaving a swirling trail behind. Without warning, leaning against a black Citroën, in the fog, is the Christian Bale look-alike.

  “Victor?” he asks, rock-faced, subdued. He’s wearing a black cardigan, ankle boots, a Prada overcoat.

  Silently I walk up to him, the streets littered with confetti, the fog locking in on us.

  “Someone wants to see you,” he says simply.

  I just nod and without any prodding get into the back of the Citroën, lying flat across the seat, then curling up once the car starts moving, and I’m making noises in the backseat, sometimes weeping. He tells me not to crack up. He remarks delicately about an opening in my destiny. But I’m paying minimal attention, listening to him as closely as I would listen to a brick, a tree, a pile of sand. Finally, absurdly, I ask, “Do you know who I am?” On the radio: something emblematic of where I’m at in this moment, something like “Don’t Fear the Reaper” or “I’m a Believer.”

 

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