Merry Christmas! This little one-shot is just a fun reason to write some sexy time with Jared Leto. He is the most gorgeous man in the world. Mmmm 3
A little bio about my OC.
Her name is Ashlien Bourgeois. She is 28 years old and has lived her whole life in New Orleans. She speaks French, Cajun, and English. She was born to a drunk and a stripper. Her father was a gun-crazy man who thought that threatening to shoot his children was proper punishment for their antics. He shot her in the hand when she was four because she broke the lamp in their living room. She has a large scar from it. Her father had a gambling problem and often blew the family money in the races. When she was ten, her father shot her mother in the back causing her extreme paralysis. At age 12 she had to get her first job, and when she was 16 she ran away with her then 26 year old boyfriend. He abused her for three years, and when she was 19 she came back and helped take care of her mother. Her boyfriend put her in a brothel where she whored herself away so she could pay off the gambling debts her father acquired and her mother's medical bills. She left the brothel and her boyfriend when she was 25 and moved back in with her parents and became a stripper. From age six, she trained with gun so she could defend herself. If she had been noticed by the United States, she would have been considered the best marksman from the South. One night after she got off the pole, she was attacked in an alley way and the man who assaulted her attempted to rape her. Yuri Orlov happened to be passing by and was going to attempt to help her until he saw her whip out a pistol and shoot the guy faster than he could blink. He hired her right away as his brother's bodyguard.
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"The fuck do ya' want, Vitaly?" I said in my long southern drawl. Scowling at the dark haired man in front of me, who was clearly off of his rocker on alcohol, as he slowly stumbled his way towards me. His blue eyes were heavily glazed over and a small bit of white still stood out on his nose. His stubble was stained slightly brown around his mouth showing that he just had a few shots of either vodka or rum. He was holding a small Beretta 87 that was the same exact color as his black hair down by his hip.
If the dumbass seriously thought that guns scared the shit out of me he was sadly mistaken. I love guns, guns were the only things that made sense. My Cajun father shot me in the hand when I was four fucking years old. The fool thought he could frighten me. Coming up and pointing the pistol to my right temple, I looked the man right into the eyes as he looked down at my small frame and smirked drunkenly.
"What the fuck did my brother hire you for?" he asked stupidly. I remained stone faced as I slowly turned my M16 towards his slightly bulging member in his pants. Nodding my head, I stayed silent has his smirk grew wider. "Well?" he asked once more.
"He hired me to protect ya' from those lords." Silent. Stone-faced. Calm.
"And?" he asked drunkenly again.
"To sat-" but the words wouldn't come out. I hated my job. I hated it with a fiery passion that was practically unbearable. If Yuri didn't pay me so well, I would have left many months ago. I needed the money. Hell, I would have been able to buy a condo in the Upper East Side of Manhattan if all my money didn't go towards paying off my dad's gambling debt and my mother's medical bills. What a wonderful life I lived in.
"To what?" he submitted with a small wink. The alcohol was reeking off of him like a personal body ordure. Disgusting. He was like a man who prowled Bourbon Street preying on young shit-faced girls leaving taverns and pubs. The man was a repulsive being.
"To satisfy your manly needs so ya' stay away from the AIDS infested brothels." Still, I remained calm with a emotionless face. My gun was still pointed at his lower extremity, but I don't think he noticed in his current state. His face twisted from a lustful smirk into a mask of pure and utter rage. He cocked his gun and pushed it into my head uncomfortably.
"Then why the fuck does my brother pay you? You earn over four grand a week and you still sit here 'guarding' me instead of riding my mother fucking dick!" he roared while pressing the gun even further into my temple. I never showed any emotion, I learned better than to show anger or fear. I learn to let my gun talk.
I, in return, pushed the head of my M16 straight into his manhood. He yelped at the sudden and harsh contact of the steel upon his blue jeans. His anger grew even more as I cocked my own gun and stared at his straight into his blue eyes. Emotionless. His finger tightened on the trigger and his muscles flexed in his arms. His breathing became sharp and his eyes looked determined. I knew that either I was going to shoot him, or he was going to shoot me.
BOOM! The goes one shot, but I was still alive and thinking, at least I felt like I was. I didn't pull the trigger on my M16 because Vitaly would have known if I shot his balls off. The shot came from behind us, but it didn't pierce either of us. I slowly removed my gun from his lower body and whipped myself around to see who could have potentially killed us. I found, to my surprise, Yuri holding a gun high in the air like a man calling a group of cowboys into attention. He was looking directly at me.
"Bourgeois," he said sternly using my last name, "I believe that my brother is calling you to do your job." His face was like mine, almost like a mirror. His blue eyes were matching his brothers, but his face was wiser and greater in age. His receding hairline made him look older than he actually was, and I could tell that the stress of his gun-runs were getting to him.
Fuck. I hesitated for a moment before allowing myself to finally speak. Vitaly was still behind me with his gun still pointed towards my body, an arrogant smirk was on his face as I looked from him to his brother. "Qui, Yuri." I sounded defeated. Fuck myself for allowing my voice to betray my mind. I was truly scared. My face might not have shown it, but it was evident. Last time Vitaly had me was when we were in Aruba and I left him with a evident amount of bruises and a knife wound under my left breast that is just yet healing. He was cracked up and was sexually frustrated because his brother did not allow him out of the hostel we were occupying. He was rough, and I craved a tender caress. Not that I didn't enjoy it at the time, I mean sex was sex. But afterwards, I felt like a bonne a rienne. I felt lesser than the common prostitute.
I missed the touch of my dear Louie back home. He was waiting for me back in New Orleans with my family. He, unlike Vitaly was a real man. My cher. My love. My neg. But I was in Ukraine right now, freezing my ass off, missing the humid heat of the south and the delicate touch of Louie as we become intwined.
A rough hand on my upper arm stole me away from my thoughts about my home and my cher. I peeled my grey eyes from the blue ones of Yuri and turned to look into the matching ones that Vitaly possessed. He roughly pulled me away from his brother and practically dragged me into his small room and onto his bed. He pushed me down onto the dirty sheets and mattress and turned to quickly shut and lock his door. The room was filthy. Its wooden walls were weather and time worn while the small desk and dresser were layered in dust and grime. The bed was covered with yellowed cotton sheets with a worn multicolored quilt laying on top. The pillows were greying and yellowed with small spots of brown gracing their threadbare coverings. If Vitaly didn't catch a disease from the local whores, he would have certainly caught one from just sleeping on this bed.
When he finally decided that he would not be interrupted while he had his way with me, he stole over to the dresser that held nothing except a shot glass and a bottle of Russian vodka. Pouring himself a large shot, he drowned the drink in one swallow before pouring himself another and drowning that one as well. By the time he had three shots of pure Russian vodka under his belt, he turned to me with a lustful look in his eyes.
"Take your shirt off," he said with a husky voice. He slurred his words and swayed as if the wind was pushing him around. He proceeded to take off his leather jacket and black shirt before taking off his pants and standing their in nothing but his blue boxers.
I began to remove the guns from my hip holsters and placed them gently on the floor before removing the gun belt that was slung over my shoulders and placing them down as well. I slowly untied my khaki over shirt before discarding that on top of my weapons. My M16 was removed from beside me to the floor next to the discarded shirt. Slowly, my white button up, black pants, and leather boots were removed as well leaving me in nothing but a black sports bra and matching black spanks. At first, I felt uneasy in my underwear before Vitaly, but as time grew on and he took me more and more it bothered me less.
When I was nothing shy of indecent, Vitaly virtually ran to me to press his body into mine and captured my lips. The kiss was rough and reeked of vodka. It was long and enduring as his rammed his tongue into my mouth and attempted to battle me for dominance.
Vitaly finally realized that I was not responding to his actions and roughly pulled me away and firmly backhanded me. The hit wasn't too hard, but it was enough to jolt me and to put the fear of God into me. "You will fucking enjoy this you whore!" he yelled into my face. Spit streamed from his mouth and his face was slowly turning red, indicating that he was truly furious.
'Come on, you can do this. Pretend he is a client and you are back in New Orleans. It's just a game of war, fight back and pretend he is the best you have ever had. You can do it. Be the seducer.'
Staring into him briefly, I mustered all my gall in order to place my hand in his hair and roughly pull him to me. Our lips connected and I found myself battling him for the upper hand. He removed his mouth from mine and began to explore my neck. Finding the one place on my collarbone that drives me crazy, Vitaly began to suck and bite me sending waves of pleasure through me. I moaned slightly as he smirked against my skin before roughly pushing me onto the bed and crawling on top of me. Laying horizontal across me, I could feel his bulging member against my inner thighs and his ripped body rubbing against my abdomen. His mouth was continuously attached to mine as his hands freely explored my body.
They at the moment were fascinated with my breasts and continued to squeeze and tease them through the fabric of my bra. He was playing with my now protruding nipples earning short moans from me into his mouth. The smirks on his face seemed to keep popping up. Leaving my mouth only for a moment, Vitaly hastily removed my bra from my body before attaching himself to my lips once more. He continued his torrential attack on my breasts with his hands for a few more minuted before he decided to kiss his way from my mouth down to the mounds on my chest. He took one in his mouth causing my back to arch and my legs to quiver. He massaged the other with his hand while he sucked and nipped at the other with his teeth and tongue.
I at this point no longer had to act aroused. I hated the man on top of me, but he was a sex-god. There was no way on this good Earth that I could deny that fact to anyone who would have happened to ask. Vitaly Orlov, though a giant bon rien, was a fantastic lover. He then moved his mouth to the other and began to tease me into oblivion. The sensations that his tongue and teeth were causing me was above any other, even that of my dear Louie.
When he finished his assault on my breasts, he slowly kissed his way down my stomach, past my pierced navel, and down to the black fabric of my spanks. He removed himself from the bed and kneeled on the floor with my legs draped over his shoulders. He got rougher with me then. Biting my thighs, I knew he would have left his marks. He was marking his territory.
It hurt, a lot. I was previously very sexually aroused, but now I was just in pain. I dare not move for fear of him getting even more rough with me. I wouldn't be able to handle it if he got worse. The biting turned into sucking, and then back to biting. It seemed like he would never stop. Minutes passed, and it seemed that he enjoyed torturing the flesh down there.
"Vitaly," I squeaked. The pain was too great. His teeth were doing some serious damage, and I knew that I would be unable to properly walk in the morn'. "Please," and all was said. He stopped biting and began to simply kiss the flesh on my thighs. It was light butterfly kisses that he graced me with while his fingers began to trail the seam of my underwear. Squirming under the touch and the feeling of his fingers so close to my womanhood, Vitaly smirked into my leg and moved his head to face my most private parts. Biting the black fabric, he removed the underwear with his skillful mouth leaving me stark naked in front of him.
He wasted no time with his tongue and fingers. Licking and sucking on my most sensitive part of my body, Vitaly also was pulsing his fingers in and out of me earning him moans and groans of pleasure. Skillful fingers and an equally skillful tongue felt amazing down there and gave me feelings to pure ecstasy. However before I was fully pushed over the edge, he stopped, much to my disappointment. Crawling up to my face again, he captured my mouth into his once more. My hands were roaming his ripped upper body and slowly traveling down his firm abs to the waistline of his boxers. I roughly pulled the bothersome fabric away releasing his hard erection. I felt it flush against my legs causing a twitch in my lower extremities.
I wanted to feel him in me, all nine inches. I realized at this moment how sexually frustrated I was. I hated my job and my employers, but I also missed Louie and my family back in Louisiana. I needed quick releases.
He positioned himself at my entrance and as fast as he could, slammed into me. Shit. The pain from his rough entrance lasted only a second as he continued to ram his manhood into me. Both of our moans and grunts were accompanied by the sounds of flesh coming together as we continued our aggressive pursuits. My back was arched pushing my breasts against his chest which was rising heavily because of his labored breathing. His hands were on either side of my head as his body was hovering over me. His eyes were locked onto mine and occasionally his lips would meet mine in a soft kiss. It was like his body was cut in half. His lower part was being vicious while his upper was soft and careful, like two different men in each body. My hands were gripping his back and my nails were digging into his skin from the extreme amounts of pleasure I was feeling.
Again, before I could reach my climax, Vitaly removed himself from me. I saw that he too had not reached his peak either. I looked at him with a confused face, but all I saw was a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. Placing his hands on my hips, he flipped us over so I was laying on top of him. Understanding his mentality from my days in the brothels, I grabbed his dick and began to roughly pull and pump the shaft. His eyes began to roll back into his head and his back arched as my hand-job pushed him closer to the edge.
"Stop!" he hollered grabbing my hand and stopping me. I looked down at him, confused once again. Normally if I was completely pleasing him he never stopped me. Rather he would let me do my job and leave, and he also never let me be on top so this was a fine change of pace. Grabbing a fistful of my platinum hair, Vitaly pulled me to him in a bruising kiss. I bit his lower lip hard and in return he just pulled me closer to him. Our naked bodies were pressed so hard together that we were practically one person. I pulled away from our intense lip-lock and moved my hand back to his pulsing member and slowly inserted it back into myself. Slowly, I rocked my hips back and forth, riding him like I was taught how to all those years ago.
Him inside of me causes all the pleasure and passion to flood back into my body. I felt warm inside and all the tension in my body was slowly releasing itself from my muscles. Vitaly's eyes rolled back and his back arched so his hips met mine hard. Faster and faster I moved until we were both back into our old aggressive rhythms. The only sounds were my moans and Vitaly's exclamations in Ukrainian. Moments later we both stumbled over the edge of ecstasy and reached our climaxes. I rolled off of him so as to lay next to him, still as a board. I felt dirty again.
Vitaly never held me after we has intercourse. He, unlike Louie, always just lay there and light a cigarette or he would continue drinking himself into oblivion. Louie would wrap his arms around me and kiss the top of my head while I fell asleep on his chest to his even breathing. Originally, I tried to wrap my arms around Vitaly's taught torso, but he would always either push me away or not return the embrace. It was frustrating until I finally learned that Vitaly would never feel anything but a short lived lust. The man seemed to only harbor three emotions; anger, lust, and drunken happiness.
"Here," he said snapping me out of my self induced pity. He was holding a shot glass filled with a strong clear liquid. I took the glass and drowned it in one gulp. I looked straight into his eyes as he took the glass back and rose from the bed in order to place the glasses and bottle back on the dresser. He stood there for a moment gripping the sides of the dresser, letting the muscles in his back ripple and strain. I had to admit, if I didn't know Vitaly's personality and addictions to sex and drugs, I would certainly swoon over him.
He turned to me with a smirk and a shine in his glazed eyes. "You know, for a whore from a brothel, you are one great fuck." His smirk turned into a smile at his last word. "I like blondes too. Damn good thing my brother hired you. Fucking good with a gun too."
"Merci, Vitaly. But excusex-moi, are ya' actually complimenting me?" The sarcasm in my voice was ever present and I was once again free of emotions on my face. However my mind was racing at a million miles a minute. Was he seriously complimenting me? Was is all vodka-induced?
"Why? Can't I fucking say shit I want? Fuck who I want, and tell them they are good at riding a cock?" He was beginning to get angry again. The man needed to lay off anything intoxicating. His face was growing redder by the second, but his manhood was also growing tighter. Anger seemed to arouse him at the moment.
I still lay there, uncovered and naked, with my eyes on the bulging member and a smirk slowly forming on my face. "Beaucoup crasseux," I said in my native tongue, never taking my eyes off of 'it'. "Are you really getting that much 'arder only moments after fucking the shit outta me? Crasseux." My arrogant smirk never left my face, even after his breathing became heavier and his face redder. He stumbled over to me and hovered over my body next to the bed. I sat up and turned myself towards him. Moving both of my legs to rest on either side of him as he stood over me, I firmly grabbed his now hard erection and began once again to pump it with my fist. His head fell back and a moan escaped his lips.
My teasing came to an abrupt halt when Vitaly grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my face back towards the ceiling in order to look straight at him. "Fuck you," he spat at me before capturing my lips into another bruising kiss.
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In the spirit of the holidays, you readers should review! (:
If you think I should possibly consider a sequel to this, let me know.