City of Singles

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City of Singles Page 15

by Jason Bryan


  Dump. Crush. Scrape. Snort. My head falls back and I look to the ceiling. The green heart on the wall behind me washes everything in a sick hue, a euphoric rush spinning my soul around. Everything speeds up. Devon startles me by sitting on my lap, she dippy birds down twice, once for each nostril. The music on the stereo pumps in tune with our pulses, Devon leans in and kisses me. Bitten lips, hand in her hair, my other hand reaches up her silky smooth legs, fingers gliding up inner thigh to stoke the warmth of her panties.

  “I can’t stand a man who doesn’t just get down to business,” she coos.

  Her lips lock with mine and I stand up, carry her to the couch, and throw her on it.

  “Oh that’s how you like it?”

  Devon loses her lady like act, fast.

  I unzip my pants and pull out my shrunken coke dick. She giggles, I grab a handful of her hair and she’s a bit surprised. I tilt her head up at me and smile. She squints and licks her lips.

  She’s on her hands and knees, I’m standing and I push my cock into her face. Her mouth accepts it and I rock her head back and forth. She’s sucking while twirling her tongue in her mouth, soft flesh caressing the first half of my shaft. Sucking harder and harder on the head, the feeling of my precum leaking out and down her throat. I start getting harder and I let go of her hair, she looks up at me with her beautiful blue eyes, illuminated under a single light above her. Slowly beginning to face fuck her, spit slides down my shaft and onto my balls. Her eyes tear up a little and her palms are on my thighs. ‘Gukkk gukkk,’ squish squish, ‘Gakk!’ she gags and I slide out of her mouth. She uses a hand to wipe off her chin and brush aside some of her hair. She gives herself a cowlick with some missed spit, losing her princess vogue.

  “You giving up?” I taunt.

  “No,” she replies, and puts her mouth back on it.

  She deepthroats me, choking at the base, pulling her mouth off me to spit up on the floor.

  “Shit,” she breathes hard, a little shocked at her mess on the floor. I stick myself back between her full lips, soaked in a mixture of spit and precum. She looks up at me, jewels for eyes sparkling as her tongue flicks on my cock tip. Flexing my nearly hard dick, feeling the carnal desire overcome drugs, slowly fucking her mouth again. A good half minute passes and I speed up, getting harder and harder, she steadies herself with her hands on my thighs. I’m holding her by the back of her head to get a better angle. It feels amazing to crank my dick so deep in this mouth that kisses Eric each night, she probably busts his balls and now I’m busting up her throat. She gags and a huge trail of spit drops off her chin, the front of my legs are feeling wet, her nails dig in to get a solid grip. My tempo speeds up and I unexpectedly cum deep in her mouth, she gags, still buried in her mouth, I pinch her nose shut.

  “Swallow, now,” I command.

  She closes her eyes and chokes again and swallows.

  “Good Devon, good work,” I smile.

  She opens her teary eyes and smiles, my penis falling back out of her mouth. I step back and admire my work, her dress soaked down the front, her hair completely messed up. Spit, a little vomit, and a tiny few drops of wasted cum decorate the floor.

  She wipes her lips off and sits back on her ankles. “Wow, I uhh … ummm,” she blushes and breathes heavy. “I’ve never had it like that.” Saying nothing, I walk back to the desk and do a fat line of blow.

  Smug and temporarily satiated, my feet find their way up onto the desk and I rock back in the chair, triumphant. I feel like a conquerer. My chest thumps and my sex organ pulsates with energy. Devon, Eric’s little princess, met me and less than four hours later was swallowing the load that I pounded down her throat. Where is my drink, anyways? Devon gets up , grabs a towel and places it across her mess on the floor. She looks at me a little bashfully, and walks to the kitchen, coming back with a glass of ice. Without a word, she pours me a glass of hastily mixed cranberry vodka, lifts her own to cheers, and we drink. She takes a sip and brushes a couple hairs out of her mouth, I chug back a mouthful and then some. Her mascara has ran a little, blue orbs glowing from the centers of black flamed fires. Her pretty lips glisten. “I should get home and get this dress cleaned, haha,” she says, a hint of nervous excitement in her voice.

  “I’m not finished yet,” I say, my voice stoic.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  Music blares from the stereo. It’s some eurotrash electronic mix, again.

  My feet fall off the desk and I stand up, my penis still semi-hard. I’m shaking a little from the drugs and the cool temperature of the studio. I take Devon by the hand and lead her to the couch, stripping the dress off her, her bra, and her fragrant panties.

  Wordless, mechanically separating clothing from cheating flesh.

  Her pussy has just enough hair on it, I don’t think she waxes or trims regularly for Eric, I hardly have to wonder why. Devon shakes a little, could be from the cold, or from being bent over naked on a stranger’s couch. Her head is down in a green pillow, her royal ass is pointing straight up. Without a touch, watching as her pink asshole pulsates and clenches up every few seconds from lustful anticipation.

  I need an angle to work from.

  Kneeling on the floor behind her I spread her pussy open with two fingers. Thick clear webs of her own excitement stick to the innermost lips of her tender folds, the contrast from her tanned body causing her to look even more aroused. A deep breath slips from Devon’s lips, I look beyond her hips to see she is squeezing couch in fists. Sleazily sliding one finger inside, her groans encourage me to fuck her with it. My digit is quickly coated in her juices and she tightens up around it. She softly moans again and again before I slide in a second, and slap her ass hard.

  “Oh yeah ...” she coos.

  “I bet Eric never gives it to you like this,” I state, switching to my thumb and standing up. “No ... no. Never. Like this. Oh like this!” muffled little groans escape her while I probe inside, making sure to push down and drag the bottom of my thumb on her G-spot.

  I stand up and move to get on the couch beside her, pleasure moans end as my other hand’s finger enters her mouth, her tongue rolls across it while sucking, leaving a thick coating of her spit. Her asshole beckons and shall receive, my thumb sliding easily inside of her ass as she screams “Oh you didn ... nnn...t!”

  “Yeah you need it like this, you’re such a whore.”

  “I am a total whore,” She repeats.

  “Who’s whore are you?”

  “Oh fuck, yours, fuck I’m your whore,” she moans. I work her pussy and asshole the way an angry boxer would use a speedbag. Her wetness coats my thumb to the base and makes a sloshing sound as it grinds in and out.

  “Give it to me, oh fuck!” she yells, pulling one hand back to spread open her ass cheeks more. I feel her asshole and pussy tense up and her whole body shakes into a powerful orgasm. Her hips pivot forward and my thumbs shoot out of both holes. She falls on one side, her tanned body convulses on the couch, a few little moans lighting up my ears.

  My right thumb is soaked in pussy juice and my left thumb has a little streak of shit on the nail. I lean over and wipe it on the inside of her dress. At least, I think that was the inside. She opens her eyes and purrs “Come here!” I pull her back into doggystyle, line my cock up to her swollen and wet pussy, the first push to the hilt.

  “Uhnngh!” she squeals, putting a hand back on my thigh, her other elbow on her coat. I begin to ramp up the speed that I fuck her, fast. Within seconds my stroke is deep and hard, a rhythmic drilling sending shock waves through her ass fat, a forceful fuck pushing her into the corner of the couch. She screams over and over.

  “More!”

  “Harder!”

  I put both of my hands on her hips and give her all I have. My cock feels like a steel rod in a furnace of pleasure, a lightning rod of sensation, my brain lights up and I reach a high that washes over me in waves. Gasping, closed eyes spun back in my head, the suction of her silky ho
le milking my own fluids out of me. I continue to fuck her and pound her until I feel my balls wet with her juices. Time and pleasure intertwine to blur the line between both, drops of sweat and her cum littering the couch; they become the clock to tell us how long we’ve been fucking.

  She moves forward and wrenches her hips out of my hands, flipping onto her back. Savage sex posture of kneeling one leg on the couch, her ass under her own coat, and one leg supporting myself off the cold concrete floor. Pushing myself inside her, she arches her back so I can reach under her and pull her body closer. Her writhing tanned body feels so good on me, my dick inside a soft, warm, wet world of magic. My thumb reaches down and flicks her little pink clit, she bites her lips and closes her eyes. Her immaculate hair defiled, spread out all over the back of the couch and across her full and tantalizing tits. Eric never gives it to her like this. I’m giving it all to her, slowly pushing inside her all the way, pulling it back out and watching her essence of lust give my penis a wet sheen. Each time the head slips from her pretty folds it drags moans from her heavy breathing lungs, inspires scratches from her free hands on my hips and legs. Pushing my hips forward and looking down, watching my sex saber charging through swollen curtains into a sexual battlefield, emerging coated with passion. She takes a little initiative to grind her hips, and slowly riding up and down. Her hips spin in a vertical oval pattern, blasts of pleasure coursing through me, an unexpected groan rumbles deep from my chest. She uses her arms and elbows to support herself while grinding, and I moan a few more times helplessly as I almost pop completely out of her. An expert at teasing; her motions causing the head to be caressed by her skilled, flexing opening, she then welcomes it back into her deeply.

  She rides me for another few seconds before I pull out, grab her by the hand, sit on the couch, and pull her on top of me. I can see her hot, wide hips and ass in the mirror across from me.

  “Ride me and make me cum, now,” speaking to her in a strict tone.

  She bites my ear and neck hard, pulling my hair to the point of almost pissing me off. I use my hands to push her tits together, suck and bite her nipples, and pull her deeper. Her hair falls down across my face with the tips tickling my shoulders and chest. She reaches between her legs and lines my flesh spear up to her dripping wet slit. She sits back on her heels and the head slips in, sensations of heat and slippery pleasure tense up my entire body. She bounces slowly at first, speeding up once her fluids are coating me, and then gyrates her hips back and forth with the torque of her body weight. I move my hands down to her ass cheeks, pulling her down farther so her clit can rub against me. Just when I think she’s hitting the right spot, she claws my neck and kisses me. Her tongue dips into my mouth briefly, her quick exhaling breath warm on my face. I feel the couch getting wetter under me, thudding and rocking with the fucking. My hands dig into her ass cheeks and spread them, while pulling her in rhythm and feeling my dick buried to the hilt in her, she shrieks and rides faster, I feel myself getting ready to explode.

  “I want you to cum inside me,” she whispers

  “Keep riding like that, yeah like that.”

  She twists and thrusts her hips back and forth, and side to side. Losing my patience and grabbing her by the back of her head, my back arched to bury it as deep as possible. I fuck her with all of my might, pounding it in her and tensing up. Beginning to soak in both of our sweat, I push it in as deep as possible and feel the release inside of her. My cock pulses and dumps what feels like my entire load of semen inside her, her hair in my mouth, we kiss. Salty, numbing cranberry.

  She falls forward on me, with me still inside. Both panting and sweating, I hold her for what must be minutes. There’s still a half gram of coke on the desk, but I’m spent. We roll off her jacket onto the other side of the couch and spoon. She closes her eyes and sighs. I reach behind the couch and pull a blanket out and we lay there, tingling with pleasure. Usually at this point I’d turn the lights out as a hint of getting a taxi or sleeping over, but I’m too comfortable to move. My eyelids grow heavy and I soon join her, eyes closed, on the same pillow.

  “Rinnnnggg!”

  “Rrinnnnggg!”

  “Rrrinnnnggg!”

  “Rrrrinnnnggg!”

  “Rrrrrinnnnggg!”

  Silence.

  “Rrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  “Rrrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  “Rrrrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  “Rrrrrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  “Rrrrrrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  “Rrrrrrrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  “Rrrrrrrrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  Silence. One of my eyes opens. I shut it.

  “Rrrrrrrrrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  “Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  Devon pushes off me and sits up. Eyes barely open, she reaches for her bag and digs through it.

  “Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  “Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  “Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  “Shit.” She tosses her bag on the floor.

  “Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  Green oceans of Douglas Park’s thick bladed grass extend into the horizon. Peck-peck. Fresh dew prevents picnics, but perfect for Sports Day during the spring of grade 6. Peck-peck-peck. I was probably about eleven when I saw a woodpecker wood pecking the shit out of a tree. Peck-peck-peck-peck. I still remember the booby-shaped tree I used to climb in that park. Peck-peck-peck-peck-peck.

  “Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrinnnnggg!”

  She reaches over to her coat, it having fallen on the floor dangerously close to our towel soaked in cum. Her hand finds her phone and she answers the call. The sun’s up, when did that happen?

  “What ... what the FUCK, Devon!” I hear a man’s voice clearly, Its Eric.

  I didn’t know Blackberries were as loud.

  “What the fuck did you do last night?”

  Devon grunts, “Wha ... what?” and scowls.

  “I woke up this morning and saw you called at 4 am, then I had a voicemail from you, and it... it sounds like you... fucking someone!” Devon’s face goes pale. She jumps to her feet. “Oh my gosh I am so...” Devon sobs.

  I can’t tell if she’s rehearsed this. No! Whamarbl ...” Devon walks towards my kitchen naked and I can’t hear what he’s saying anymore.

  “No, no, I need to explain, Eric, please,” Devon squeaks words out between sobs.

  She grabs her head and then slams her fist onto my kitchen counter. My plates clatter together, a fork jumps to the floor.

  “Eric, stay there, I’ll be right over,” Devon stammers. “No please, please ... ok, I’ll be right there.”

  I sit up and watch Devon run to couch and throw on her clothing. Without even looking at me, she walks to the bathroom and fixes her hair. She comes back without a word and grabs her bag.

  “What’s up?” Even my smile is curious.

  “Don’t, just don’t.” she replies. “Don’t even try to talk to me.”

  “Oh, it’s like that? Ok.” My smile turns into a smirk, a sarcastic chuckle puffs from my nose. I can’t help but understand. I’m not going to pay her rent, shop with her at Marciano, keep her in hot yoga classes, spa appointments.

  “Just forget me. Keep the earring,” she barks while putting on her shoes. She picks up her bag, throws it over her shoulder, and walks towards the door.

  “Tell me you had a good time!” I call after her, only her heels on the floor give any sort of reply. “Tell me you had fun with me!” I yell again.

  My door opens, and closes with a soft click.

  Just like that, she’s gone.

  I laugh.

  19 Gone Goon

  Friday begins with egg whites and turkey bacon. I sometimes forget to brew my morning joe before I cook. Hunched over my food, eyes half closed, the coffee maker gives off a few hollow sputters. It will be one of those days. A couple meetings, a bit of flirting, some paintings sold. One of the young artists working with me is starting to make steady sales of her prints. Seeing her smile bring
s me the first shred of sunshine today. I close the studio early and shut the world off at 4.

  I wasn’t always so eager to spend time away from people, but I’m enjoying it more and more. Going out and meeting the same archetypes over and over becomes dull. Meeting beautiful women I could love is rewarding, yet pointless. Over morning coffee, I read an article that sent me into a tailspin of negative emotion. The average home in this city is somewhere around 800k. What hot and intelligent woman would stick with someone who rents? Not much of a foundation to build a life on. Fuck it, might as well resign myself to porn and video games until I can afford true adulthood.

  A few texts on my phone, seems like there are some fun events going on tonight. I hold down the power button and turn off the beeping mess. Nobody will notice if I’m not there anyways. What will I miss, meeting a girl whom I have nothing in common with? I’ll watch her body language and pick up on her cues. In a heartbeat or three I can determine if she wants to get naked tonight. I double click the icon of a soldier walking out of flames and smoke. I think I’ve fucked myself into an emotional oblivion.

  First person shooters are the new opiate, next to porn. Men finding purpose accomplishing tasks, shooting the enemy and being victorious. The endorphin highs I can reach when winning a match can get me jumping up and down with joy. I jump into a match with 64 players. The game just switched the battle arenas and the capture points, known as flags, are all neutral and grey. I don’t bother setting up my microphone, as I play as how I live, a solitary hunter.

  Other people chat away and form strategy, a barely pubescent voice speaks out “The plane is mine faggots!”

 

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