Author's Note: This story...was created after a long sleepless night while watching Skins, a break-up and an 80's radio station on Pandora. This story does have original characters in it, but the entire piece is Tony-centric so it really is an Antony Stonem anthology. There will be long passages of mental turmoil, even more sex, horrible language, homosexual tendencies, drama and if you squint dark humor. This story is about Tony, so don't expect sweetness and light. Everything within this story will be as emotionally realistic as i can make it, meaning it will be gritty, raw and sometimes irrational. All the more fun to write it! Please do not be afraid to comment, review, make suggestions etc. i absolutely love them! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! Thank you! -The Junkie of Art-
The Secrets of Lisbon and Tony
Overwhelmed: to overcome completely in mind or feeling
Why can't it be like this every time? Why can't all girls make me feel like I've just died of pleasure after I cum? Why can't all girls accept my need for control, fight me for it anyway and then ultimately submit like it is a gift I'm both giving and receiving? Why can't they all not be afraid to get orally intimate with my cock? Why can't they all like Asian food and obscure music? Why can't they all have sociopathic thoughts that are so dark and sexy and so similar to mine it's like we share the same fucking brain cells? Why can't they all just sit in silence for a while? Why can't all of their voices be as rough and sultry as a 1930's jazz club? Why can't they all crave sex as much as I do? Not intimacy, mind you but pure animalistic lust and fucking. Why can't they all be intelligent enough to really talk to? Why can't they all be strong enough to not whine and bitch when I try to piss them off for fun? Why can't they all hit on girls with me and not complain when my eyes wander? Why can't they all fucking scream my name and mean it when they cum? Why can't they all look sexy when they're naked in my bed, instead of just awkward, utterly flawed? Why can't they all let me win at chess to satisfy my ego? Why can't they all look like they belong in my clothes? Why can't they all smell like sex constantly, just to drive me crazy? Why can't they all like having things in their mouths for fun, things like lollipops, pens, fingers…my cock? Why can't they all hate public displays of affection but once we're in private immediately have their hands all over me? Why can't they all love me and expect nothing in return? Why can't they all want me to paint their faces with my cum? Why can't all of their bodies fit perfectly with mine as we lie naked together, post sex? Why can't they all find me irresistible-even when they know what a rotten bastard I am? Why can't they all be like Liz….Why?... Because there is only one Lisbon Black, and she's mine.
"Leo's Retro Records, this is Lisbon speaking. How can I help you?"
"It's me. What are you doing?"
"Working, why?" Because I want to fuck you, that's why!
"When do you get off?" More importantly, when do I?
"Tony—I can't." She fights momentarily. But then I insist.
"When?!" A sigh of defeat signals my victory.
"I can take a break around eleven, if Leo gets his fuckin' junkie arse outta bed!" I can see her perfectly in my mind. She's at the music store her brother owns, sitting on the beaten-up black leather stool behind the glass countertop. She's leaning over and onto it slightly. The phone is in one hand while the other is messing with something, the spoon in her cup of coffee perhaps. Her face is completely calm but her deep hazel eyes hold fire in their depths. I love it. Watching those eyes, reading them and the secrets within, is an obsession of mine. Is it bad that I could beat off to mental pictures of her eyes alone? No. It's Lisbon, if you knew her and her eyes you would understand. She is wearing an old band tee-shirt, or one of mine. Impossibly tight jeans are showing off her dancer legs, long and lean and perfect. Or maybe, if I'm lucky, she is wearing those fucking 'street pants' that I love so much. They're baggy and easy to get off of her when I'm impatient. But they also cover her up so well that when I'm taking my time and eventually do grasp and squeeze at her ass, it is like a hidden surprise that I've discovered, my sinful territory that only I know about. Fucking Fantastic! She has no make-up on and her straight dark burgundy hair is morning messy…..bloody hell…..I shouldn't be this hard so early in the day; it's barely nine in the morning! Not to mention it has been only seven hours since she made me see heaven and hell at the same tim!. Liz had told me to lie still with my eyes closed, which is not an easy task when the other option is to watch her work instead. She then proceeded to coax me gently to orgasm but then, when I was just teetering on the edge of orgasm, she tore my release from me violently. It was like she wanted, no more like needed to see me rent and broken in pieces. I wanted more, so much more of her. "Tony. Tony." Her sweet lips and that wicked tongue paint my skin. Desperate fingers and scratching nails are in my hair, on my shoulders, grabbing my ass while I fuck her, pulling me closer. She is saying my name like she is feverish, over and over like a mantra. "Tony. Tony. Tony. Tony. Tony. Tony. Tony!"
God, I'm fucking hard right now. What is this girl doing to me, she should be locked up just for existing in the same physical plane as me. "Antony-Fucking-Stonem! Please return to Bristol, I miss you." The aggravated, sarcastic, monotone brings me back to real life—how long was I gone for?
"What?!" So eloquent. Tony Stonem reduced to one words responses …fucking bitch!
"Could you bring some food for me, I'm starved."
"But you had a midnight snack?" Even I can hear my voice dripping with raunchy promises and reminders of what I did to her last night, or was it early this morning? I can't remember. But maybe she can. Maybe she can recall the taste of my essence and feel it coating her dainty, pointed tongue in white ribbons and streaks? Fuck, I hope she can.
"I can't live off a diet of coffee and your jizz alone! I need food, preferably something cheap and disgusting." I cringe physically at this. Liz can eat like a fat forty year-old chav from White Chapel. It's gross. But, surprisingly she never gains weight, never has oily skin, never 'jiggles' like most girls when they move too quickly. Liz is soft without being 'bouncy'. I'm not the type of guy to go for 'bouncy'. Liz has fucking muscle. Muscle! On a girl! Liz has muscles hidden underneath smooth, lightly tanned skin that smells like smoke, leather and sticky candy sugar. She is positively to die for.
I couldn't deny her anything. Not that she needs to know that. "You're gonna get fat."
"Then fuck me more often." Oh god why have I been cursed with this demon from hell? Thank You!
"I'm gonna have to. The way you eat, you won't see thirty. I have to get what I can now." Tony you wicked bastard, just know that she loves you for it.
"Stonem you're a shit." She said it with pure affection.
"What do you want to eat, lover?" I said it with none.
"Forget it. I'll just call something in." Fuck! What does she like—really like? What does she eat? Why can't I remember? "You still there, Tone?" Curry!
"Yea, I'll bring you a chicken curry. You like Indian right?"
"Love it!" Damn I'm good. "Be sure to make it spicy you wanker."
"Not unless I can stay at the shop with you." Call me a fucker, but I love spending time with her when she's working. She's so at home in that old music store with its Queen posters on the walls and guitars propped on the floor. She is able to work, and forget about everything else going on around her. It is really nice to see her mind go blank sometimes. I always say that I'm going to sit quietly and watch Liz work but then, her brow will crease in frustration as she mends a bass string, or she'll bend over to organize the sheet music in one of the scattered boxes on the floor giving me an unobstructed view of her ass, or she'll moan while dragging a heavy object to the store-room, or she'll stick her tongue out slightly while doing accounts…and then I'm fucked. That's all it takes with Liz. Little things like that happen and I become utterly deranged with desire for her. She's like a fucking drug!
"I won't be able to focus with you there."
"That's the point. I want you to focus on me." No, I just want to be near you.
"I have to put the new inventory away. Then I can 'lose focus', but if a customer comes in you stop! I do not want a repeat of last time!" Two days ago I had stopped by the store and she was wearing the shortest pair of shorts imaginable, and she smelled so damn good—I had to have her. So, I picked her up, wrapped her wonderful legs around my waist and started grinding and thrusting against her like I'd die without doing it. Then this guy walks in and sees us but I was far too delirious to stop, I wanted to get off. So, I kept on ramming her into the "Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars" poster, it felt so good and the sounds she was making were so sexy I didn't care what I was doing. The guy got annoyed and left. She got mad. I got hard again. I'm powerless against her eyes when she's angry.
"Fine. You can come over, but no horny business please."
I started laughing, I couldn't help it. She has a dry sense of humor that cuts through most people like a knife. It makes me smile. "You win. I won't be horny when I get there. And I will try to not be attracted to you."
"Promise?"
"I never promise anything."
"Good." She knows me so well it scares me. "See you."
"I'll be there in an hour, can't fucking believe you want a curry at ten-o-clock in the morning."
"I haven't eaten in two days, gimme a fucking break!"
"I'm going to kill Leo."
"Lay off it Tone. See you." She hung up the phone…bye Liz.
Does she ever think about me as extensively as I do about her? No way. She has far too much on her mind to take the time and effort required to sort out the enigma that is me. I admit to being complex and often difficult to understand. It comes from my superior intellect and too much free time. So, what do I do with all this empty thought and empty time? I fuck girls and think about Liz. I think about Liz because she is brutally, beautifully simple. No drama. No hassle. Nothing about her is stereotypically female. Not Liz.
It honestly feels like I'm sleeping with 'one of the guys'. I'm fucking my best mate who just so happens to have a great set of tits. Lisbon Black, why are you so bloody sexy? It kills me. It ruins me that you're so perfect. Everything I've ever wanted in a girl is you! I've never felt this way before about anyone because I haven't been exposed to anything as wonderful, as damn satisfying as being with you.— How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to her without sounding like a twat? Whatever, it doesn't matter. I'll just keep this locked up inside me; I won't say anything to her. I can't. She wouldn't even believe me.
My phone rings. I'm so focused with my thoughts of Liz that I flip it open without looking at the number. "Talk."
"Think you could pick me up some fags? I'm craving. And I'm down to my last two." Liz.
"One condition. You tell me your middle name." I knew everything about her, with two exceptions. This was one of them.
"Why do you wanna know so badly, Tone?" I can practically see the tension in her eyes but as always her face remains calm. It takes a lot for her to show emotion beyond her eyes.
"Because it's something you refuse to tell me."
"Oh that's right. You're like a small, spoiled child." A smirk comes to my lips and I shake my head slightly. My Liz—it sounds great to say, even if only in my head. Can't fucking get enough of her.
"Please tell me, I'll stop for smokes and your lunch and whatever you want me to do. Please, Lisbon?"
"You won't understand, it means so much to me and if you even—"
"Why would I criticize your middle name, or make fun of it? Come on Liz, I may be a cock sometimes but I'd never say anything about this, it's something your parents gave you I get it. It's special." Liz doesn't like to talk about her parents and it is understandable why…. Liz had it really hard growing up.
Her mother Mariella Malta was a Spanish back-up dancer for Cher. Her dad, David Black, was a sound technician and songwriter who worked with groups like The New York Dolls, Motley Crue and Queen. They met at a concert, fell in love, got married and started a family. They had two kids, Lyon and Lisbon, who were named after the cities they were conceived in. A beautiful story really… until her parents died when she was nine years old, leaving behind a black Lamborghini Countach, a successful music business and two traumatized children.
I never met them but from what I can gather, Mariella and David were the world's most loving, supportive people on this planet. They loved their kids enough to give up their glamorous lives of travel and concerts to settle down in Bristol, David's home town. The pictures that Liz keeps in a box under her bed show a smiling family, one that might have looked strange to anyone who didn't know them. But, I like to think I do know them vicariously through Liz…
Mariella was a tall exotic, Latin beauty who loved to dance everywhere she went. Liz has told me stories of how she would sway gracefully to the beat of some song in her head while she made dinner. She hugged and kissed and fussed over her babies, she radiated life. Her smile alone was enough to melt the heart of David Black, an angry alcoholic whose career was taking a turn for the worst. But once they met, he sobered up and spent his time doting on his beautiful new woman; showering her with lavish gifts and exotic vacations. He was the same way with his kids, overindulgent, Liz once told me. For her fourth birthday he bought baby Lisbon a mini-Cadillac for her to drive in the park. It was run by a tiny engine with a tiny gearbox that required actual petrol to move. She crashed it into a garbage can the first time she used it. He was also fiercely protective. Lyon, who was a rebellious boy growing up, had gotten into a fight, lost and came home bloodied. Mariella cleaned his cuts and bruises, then father and son went out and bashed the winner of the fight, along with all of his friends. It didn't matter that Lyon had been the one in the wrong, that was just David's way: if you hurt my family I'll hurt you.
They had the perfect life. They all loved each other. They drank hot cocoa in winter and made trips to Brighton in summer. They laughed. They listened to music…then Mariella and David died…
Lyon who was twenty-one at the time took custody of his nine year old little sister and slowly slipped into a clinical depression which he tried to cure with vodka, sex and cocaine.
Lisbon, on the other hand threw herself into a dream left behind by her music loving parents. She wants to be a musician. And knowing her, she'll make it happen. She writes her own songs, plays piano and guitar, sings like a sex dream and dances like a riot. And she's attractive! And she possesses the attitude of a glam rock star. In less than five years I swear to you Lisbon Black will get the fuck out of Bristol and sing for crowds of adoring fans…and I will be there watching her, loving her.
I see this girl for what she really is, a fighter. Someone who practically raised herself, while taking care of her druggie bother, getting straight A's in school, running a business and trying to better her music, all while dealing with her own grief over the loss of her parents. That is what I see. What other people see when they look at my Liz however is that crying little girl who threw herself after her mother's casket as they carted it away from the church in a hearse. They see the little girl who screamed and hurled rocks at the man whose truck hit her parents' car while he attempted to pay his respects. They see a girl who shows no emotion at all now. The girl who fucks with Tony behind his girlfriend's back. That's all they see. And that's why I want to know her middle name so badly. Because I don't understand the pain of what she goes through, but I see it clear as day in her eyes. Her goddamn beautiful hazel eyes.
"Please, what is it?"
"Stop being sweet, it's freaking me out. What have you done with Tony you bastard?" It's like she can read my mind! Am I that obvious with my thoughts, I certainly hope not.
"You gonna tell me or not?"
"I want chocolate-vanilla swirl lollipops."
"Done."
"Freddie."
"What?"
"My middle name is Freddie. Like Freddie Mercury, lead singer of Queen, I'm named after him."
"Lisbon Freddie Black," only my girl could make that name authentic. I played with it inside my head. Lisbon. Freddie. Black. Lisbon Ston—no! Don't let yourself think like that Tony. Liz can't marry you any more than she could kill you, because you don't love her. Because it is only a matter of time before she left Bristol, moved to London and started making music. Distance yourself. You can't keep her here, be unselfish for once in your goddamn life. "I like it. It suits you."
"Thanks. I like it too."
"Why though? I mean the choice is only something your parents would come up with but why Freddie?"
"My dad was a friend of Freddie Mercury's and I was born on September 5, we shared a birthday. It was a way to honor him I geuss. Leo told me that the day he died, they couldn't stop crying. And at the funeral when it was his turn to speak, Dad just said that he was going to miss him. That's it." She was getting emotional, I could tell. Anyone else would probably start crying but Liz hasn't cried in almost seven years.
"You miss them, don't you?"
"No shit."
"Sorry."
"Don't worry about it."
"What about Leo? What's his middle name?"
"Axel. My mom was madly in love with Axel Rose…"
"Lyon Axel Black sounds like a porn star's name."
"Yea, he hates it. In school when they called attendance he said it was a misprint, that his real name was Lyon Alex. What a dick!"
"That's a Leo move." In the back ground on the other end of the line I heard the store's 'bell' go off. Liz had installed a device that started playing music whenever someone opened the door, it was awesome. It made the shop interesting, and served to let the people working there know whenever customers walked in. This time the 'bell' chose "I Ran" by a Flock of Seagulls. Liz loves that song.
"I need to go. Editing session, won't take long."
"Later. Wait, you want cherry smokes?"
"Yea. Love you." I hung up before I let the words escape. I was supposed to be the one in control but, that didn't matter. She always seemed to be able to fuck with my head and gain the upper hand. It kept things interesting. In all honesty everything came down to this small fact: Lisbon was interesting, and I liked it. Loved it. Loved her.
A short while later I opened the door to Leo's Retro Records, immediately the sounds of the Scissor Sisters "Fight Fire with Fire" filled my ears. I deposited the shopping bag full of take-away curry, lollipops and cigarettes on the counter and waited for her.
As my eyes surveyed the space around me, my mind began to wander, as it often does in moments where I'm not doing something, or waiting. It's not ADD or whatever, too smart for that. I just like to be entertained. What I thought, as I saw her empty coffee mug on the counter was that this place and everything in it was Liz. She covered the walls with posters, concert photos and memorabilia of artists she loved. The songs that played all day were her favorites. Every single person that came in knew her…
The sign above the door said 'Leo' but, I wanted nothing more than to rip it down and replace it with my girl's name instead. The bastard did no work but got all the credit and nearly all of the money, which he spent on drugs. I hate him. I hate to think of him sleeping or shooting up not two hundred feet away from me in the apartment above the store. He scared Liz; the big brother that she had idolized growing up scared her now. He would go crazy, yelling and throwing things. And once he got violent with her. She showed up at my door with blood on her face, bruises on the rest of her and I wanted to kill him. I still do. Every time I think about him putting his hands on her…I want to cause him tenfold the pain and terror he caused my beautiful, sweet girl. She still has a scar you know, on her lip. He sliced it clean through with a ring on his right hand when he hit her. It's the first thing I kiss when I see her. Every time.
"You're early." Damn, she looked good. Her normally bone-straight hair was messed up and her make-up from last night had left traces of dark circles under her eyes. She obviously hadn't taken a shower yet. We'd take one later, together. She was wearing, ironically a Queen t-shirt, jean shorts that might as well have been underwear and military boots with ridiculously long laces. Her nail polish was chipped and in her fingers was the end of a smoldering cigarette.
"Nothin' else to do. You look good."
"Fuck off."
"No, I mean it." I can't give anyone a compliment without them thinking I'm joking. Most of the time I was, but not with Liz. I really did think she looked good. "You look pretty."
"Yea, pretty nasty. I had to open up today, and after last night I was too tired to do anything except get a coffee and light a fag. You wear me out Stonem." She walked out from behind the counter over to me and kissed me. Lisbon's kisses are unique, different every time. Today she started soft, then pulled my bottom lip between her teeth and played with it until I was moaning and laughing at the same time. The hand that wasn't holding a lit cigarette went to my hair and pulled it, stroked it, scraped her nails through it. Why are girls afraid to use their hands when they kiss? I don't want to do all the work. I shouldn't have to. But with Liz most of the time I have to fight to touch her, she's such a whirlwind that I get lost. Her other hand began teasing my belt buckle and hardening length. I was not ashamed to breath out her name in approval. She was amazing.
"You're amazing." I licked the scar on her lip. "And you taste smoky."
"Sorry."
"No, I like it. Give me more…" Both hands went to my hair and held me back as she taunted me with extended tongue and sultry eyes. It was fucking erotic. "Come on, don't make me beg!" Her eyes turned absolutely evil as she wrapped her fucking tongue around mine and started rubbing them together, all while she moaned dark and sexy, causing vibrations to flow over our slick wet muscles like electric currents. "You're a monster."
"I know." She pulled away and I literally whined. Fucking whined, like I was in pain. "What'd you bring me?" She picked up the still smoking cig on the floor and threw it away before going through the bag's contents.
"What you asked for."
"You're beautiful and brilliant and terrible and I love you."
"You talking to the curry or me?"
Liz didn't stop shoveling the spicy chicken and rice into her mouth as she said, "You."
"How'd the editing go?"
She quickly swallowed her huge mouthful of food. "Good. I figured out what was wrong with the track and added more bass to it, Audio Nicotine is always afraid to use bass but they're a modern punk band and I'm never wrong, so I finally convinced them. They'll sell out the show in two weeks." Liz, who has had a talent for music her whole life, will occasionally help local bands by editing their songs and renting out her dad's old studio in the basement for them to practice in. She makes a killing. Sadly, Leo takes a large portion of the profits.
Lisbon's parents had paid off the rent on the building, so that has never been the financial problem. Bills are taken directly out of the earnings of the store; Liz set that up with the banks, the little genius. The problem is food, clothes, the insurance on the Lamborghini all of the things that were important to Liz, all of the things Leo didn't give a shit about. Liz has a bank account that she keeps separate from Leo but she refuses to use it for anything other than college or her music career expenses. I'm constantly telling her to take more for herself but she fights me. Whatever, it just means I can buy her stuff, which I don't mind doing at all.
"You okay Tone? You're quiet."
"Just thinking."
"Well, that's never a good thing. What you thinking about?"
"How awesome you are, everything about you. And before you start doubting me, don't. I really think you're…" I froze up. "…sexy."
"Thanks…I think you're sexy too."
"Of course you do. I'm fucking gorgeous." Narcissistic bastard, "it's why you love me."
At this point she had finished her curry and was sipping a vanilla coke. Personally, I can't combine flavors the way she can. Curry spices and vanilla together would just make me sick. She then looked over at me, completely serious and said, "That's not the reason."
"Then, what is?" I can't believe I'd never asked her this. The first time she'd told me she loved me I didn't think anything of it. We had just finished having sex and I was resting my head on her still heaving chest, it was the night that Leo beat her up, she just kissed my sweaty hair and said it. 'I love you Antony.' She even said my full name.
"Because you're human. You have flaws. But you're also perfect. It's intimidating. And honestly, you can't even realize what you mean to me Tony. I don't even know that. It scares me how badly I need you…which is why I'm willing to be second to any other girl you fuck with, as long as I get a piece of you it doesn't matter. I love what we have and don't want it to change, ever. I've never needed anything else but you, Tony."
She was actually scared that her admittance of love would cause me to leave. Oh my sweet girl, don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. I need you too. "You're not a second to anyone Liz." In my heart.
"Don't talk like that. Please. I don't need you to pacify me. Just know that is how I feel and that I do not need you to feel the same way for this to work."
Fucking hell! I can't even tell this bloody girl how I feel without making her think I'm lying. "You don't know how I feel."
"True. Can we drop this, you're being a real freak today."
"Yea…do you need to do anything else?"
"I should organize the sheet music and records. But I could let you fuck me instead."
"We don't have to."
"What the fuck is your problem?"
"It's nothing."
"It's not nothing. Holy shit—you're pregnant!"
"Quit fucking around. If you want my cock so bad, I'll give it to you! All I'm saying is we don't have to do anything. Sex is all we do."
"You weren't complaining any of the other times."
"Doesn't mean we can't take a break."
"Who is she?"
"Who?"
"This hot new piece of ass that you've stuck your cock in. Or did Michelle and your Mom find out who you've been fucking? Did they find out about me Tony and you're scared to admit to it. Trying to hide it?!" Damn. Being on the receiving end of Lisbon's bitterness was painful. She struck a nerve. Michelle, my girlfriend, was something pretty to take home and show your parents. Lisbon was the naughty thing you kept hidden, a dirty secret to be ashamed of. That was how she saw it anyway. I just didn't want anyone to know I loved her. That was why I kept her from Michelle.
"Lisbon stop it."
"No."
"Please, I just want to say something."
"I don't care Tony. Go and screw her to your heart's content."
"Liz! I am not fucking anyone other than you. Not even Michelle anymore. I'm just stringing her along. She doesn't mean anything to me. You do! So, me not wanting to fuck you is more like a sign of respect or a compliment. By not fucking you senseless every time I see you, it means I give a damn. You know this! What the fuck, I thought you knew me."
"Tony. You're scrambling. You never scramble. What is really going on?"
"I can't tell you." I really couldn't. "You'd hate me if I did."
"I could never hate you. Never." The sincerity in her voice made me go weak.
"Where'd the venom go?"
"You're hurting. I can see that. Let me help you." The whole time we'd been yelling we'd moved across the room closer together. Now we stood less than a foot apart, my hands were itching to touch her. She looked up at me with concern in her eyes. Those eyes I loved more than anything else in this world. More than air. I hated this distance between us. I wanted nothing more than to just scream from the rooftops that I was in love, real love. A love that caused me beautiful pain. It was all I wanted. To be connected to someone in a way that emotionally, intellectually, and physically was more than anyone else had ever experienced. This was so right, so wrong. It was the greatest thing in the world. It also terrified me.
"I need to be close to you. But I don't know how. Help me Lisbon, this is—I don't know what to do. What to say. What to feel." I was starting to break down.
"Quiet, shhhh. Calm down, my love I've got you, it's okay." She took me in her arms. I held her close. "Tell me when you're ready."
"Liz…"
"I'm sorry for being so open, it makes you weird out. I forgot."
"Don't apologize." I picked her up and she wrapped her legs around me, her hands were stroking my hair. I just wanted to hold her, I liked this. Michelle, for all of her girly exterior, hated cuddling and hand-holding and caressing. Liz loved it. "Don't you ever apologize for loving me and never be afraid to be open about it. If I can't be open with myself at least one of us should be. I really like that about you. You're not afraid to say what needs to be said…Goddamn it Liz, I don't even know how to say it."
Her words were so soft I could barely hear them, "I understand." I don't know how long we stayed like that. It could have been two minutes or two days. All I know is that her hair smelt like vanilla and cinnamon, I wanted her. Enough of this emotional shit or she'll really think I've gone crazy. I inhaled more of the lovely scent of her hair and noticed that underneath her shampoo and perfume there was a faint smell of delicious sweat, sin and sex.
"You need a shower."
"You need to take it with me."
"What about Leo?"
"He crawled out the fire escape fifteen minutes before you got here. He's running low on stuff."
"Can I carry you?"
"Even if I said no you would do what you wanted anyway. So, why ask?"
"Because I like to hear you say 'no', and then give in."
"No. Put me down."
Oh, how I loved when she indulged me. I growled in her ear like an animal and nipped it lightly, "fight me and I won't fuck you. I'll just go and jerk off in your bed and forbid you from touching me, I won't even let you taste." She clutched my hair tighter and writhed against me, the pictures I was putting in her head proving to be too much for her to handle. "Now, will you be a good girl and let me carry you? Or do I need to handle this problem myself?"
Lisbon started rocking herself down onto my rapidly hardening 'problem'. It was evil. "No, Tony. Do what you want."
"That's what I like to hear baby."
Lisbon was seriously trying to kill me. Here I was, a perfect teenage boy being killed through pleasure. Is that even possible? If I had any doubts before today, they were gone. We were in her shower, the hot water running over our bodies while the music of the 1980's played from her I-pod on the bathroom floor. I was being murdered and they'd find my body here in a few days. Every single part of me would be stiff, but not all due to rigormortis.
"Fucking. Killing. Me." My words wheezed out of me and I arched up on my toes as she dug the tip of her tongue into my slit and flicked it in the oversensitive opening. She had been down there, torturing me for a good twenty minutes just licking, kissing, stroking. She had yet to suck me in fully and it was seriously killing me. I thought I was gonna go insane. "Give me more Liz! Please! I'm gonna die. Die!"
"What do you want Tony?" She took me in her hand and rubbed the tip of my cock against her tongue. I shuddered at the eroticness of it and cried out for mercy.
"Anything!" Her eyes that were lidded and dark with lust studied me for a few moments while I thrust myself into her wet, hot muscle. She didn't let me in her mouth. She didn't even move, just let more precum drip out of me onto her tongue. Then, her eyes got an absolutely satanic look to them and she pulled away to swallow my essence. The moan she let out at the taste of me was enough to make a weaker man shoot off right then and there, but through sheer will-power and the vicious biting of my own lip, I was able to stop myself. Lisbon looked up at me and did one simple action, one that caused my knees to quiver and my breathing to stop. She extended her middle finger. "Yes! Do it. Give it to me! Fuck me!"
I was delirious. My head snapped back as she coated her finger first in her own saliva and then my precum. I knew what she was gonna do with that finger and I couldn't watch, it was too much. That didn't stop me from shaking in anticipation. Her hand disappeared behind me and I felt her start swirling her slicked finger against my ass hole. She then resumed her sensuous treatment of my cock and I didn't know which way to thrust. It was bloody maddening. Tired of grappling for stability on the slick chrome wall of the shower my fingers raked through her soaking wet hair, more to hold me to earth than anything else. Just as I thought she was going to leave me like this, waiting in sexual purgatory forever. She sent me to heaven.
At the same split second, I was down her throat and her finger was in my ass. It left me shocked, paralyzed, unable to do anything but moan and curse and praise her. I threw my head back in utter bliss as her head started bobbing slowly, while her finger fucked me…slowly. I hated it when girls impaled their mouths on cock. It doesn't look sexy and the sounds are gross. Liz knew this and kept applying almost painful levels of suction while going slow, all while her finger was twisting and massaging my insides. My voice reverberated off the shower walls and my body was already spasming. I loved this. "Lisbon you are the most wicked, beautiful woman I've ever met. I want you to know that. You're divine! Straight from fucking god! No, Lucifer. He sent you here to torment me, for my past sins. I'm never gonna stop, just so you can—holy fuck there! Right fucking there!"
That mythical 'magic-button' the gay boys talk about that makes all the discomfort and hassle of anal penetration worthwhile, is real. And Lisbon just found it. My ass jutted back like a whore, whether intentionally or not I don't know. All I was aware of at this point was her long, piano-playing finger stabbing away at this place inside me that I almost wish she hadn't found. It was psychotic how much pleasure I took from this. With absolutely no shame I started fucking myself on that digit. Yelling at her every dirty thing I possibly could come up with in my lust-addled brain.
"I'm gonna fuck your skull. Get ready."
She pulled off to breathe momentarily and my eyes couldn't leave her lips. They were parted, wet and slightly swollen. Perfect. "You want another?" She said it in between pants and moans so sexual I nearly forced myself down her throat again.
"Fuck me. Suck me. Make me cum."
Her eyes squeezed shut and she whimpered. It was hot. To have so much power over somebody, knowing that passion was the cause…was…Lisbon. That was what I had with her. There were no others words capable of describing what I felt at that moment.
She eased a second finger in with the first and I winced in slight pain at the burning that came from no prior lubrication. But that was soon forgotten because now, two devious fingers were massaging my prostate. I immediately slid myself into her mouth, my hands in her hair making it so she couldn't move. She actually grabbed my hip with her free hand and titled herself lower so she was practically underneath me, it was the most intimate thing I'd ever experienced. I was so connected to her it was like we were one person. I forgot where I ended and she began.
I started fucking. That's the only way I can describe it. I was getting fucked silly while sliding my cock in and out of the best little mouth in world at a furious pace. Within minutes I was cumming. It came out of nowhere. Suddenly I was just a body, a vessel. No longer was I Tony Stonem, he was gone. I shook violently. I nearly tore her hair out. I felt everything and nothing. I was screaming. Then, it was over.
I was slumped over her shoulder, in a post-orgasmic dead state and she didn't stop. Liz kept on sucking the cum I didn't even know I still had out of my cock and dancing her fingers inside. I was groaning for every press of her fingers on the now overly sensitive nerve-filled spot in my ass. I reevaluated my situation. She hadn't been trying to kill me earlier, now she was. "Stop it Liz. I can't. Please."
Lisbon took pity on me and pulled off, leaving me to fall haphazardly to the floor. The song "Baby's on Fire" from the movie Velvet Goldmine was now playing and the lyrics made me laugh at the irony. "You okay?"
"No. I am most definitely not okay. What the fuck Liz? It gets better every time."
She was washing her hand in the shower spray as she responded, "I enjoy pleasing you. The look on your face is fucking sexy. You think I'm the one sent form heaven—"
"Hell!"
"Whatever, all I'm trying to say is that you're the divine one. I could do that to you all day, just to see your face."
"No!" She laughed and it was like the sound of graveled chocolate. She lay down with me on the floor of the shower with her head on my leg. The water was now going cold. "Let's get out of here."
"You're in no state to move." She turned her wet head toward my cock and stuck her tongue out playfully, reaching towards it.
"No, Lisbon. Not right now." I turned the water off and petted her silky hair as I drifted off to a semi-sleep. "Later."
"I want to fuck you." I was lying on her bed, watching her smoke a cigarette and write absentmindedly in a notebook. We were both in our underwear, hair still wet from the shower that had turned into the best blowjob of my life.
She exhaled smoke in affirmation as she put the cig out. After depositing the book on the floor next to the bed and shaking more droplets of water out her hair she crawled over to me and sat in my lap, her legs around my waist. "I want you to fuck me. Now!" She lowered her mouth to my neck and she started biting at my skin with a purpose, I was so pale that marks showed up easily. Giving me hickies was one of her favorite things to do.
"Have I made you cum yet today Liz?"
"No. But the sooner you stop talking and start fucking, the quicker I'll get to cum." She resumed attacking my neck and I debated simply letting her continue indefinitely, this girl has one talented mouth. But, I knew that there was something I needed to do first. Get her off.
"I know a way to get you to cum. Make you see fucking stars." Her nails dragged back and forth over my nipples and her tongue was flicking the sensitive fleshy lobe of my ear. The little tease was trying to distract me. I wouldn't be brought down so easily however. "Lisbon, it's my turn to play with you."
She fucking pouted! It made me bite her sexy lip and suck on it as I pushed her back on the bed so I was lying on top of her. As always, she tensed up when we were positioned like this. She didn't like foreplay when the attention was turned on her; I was determined to make her like it. "Relax…I'm gonna take care of you. You've done enough for right now. I want to thank you."
"Tony sex doesn't have to be even flow. I like doing things to you. I don't—"
"And I love doing things to you. But you fight me. Why?"
"Because, I get can get off just as easily with your cock in my mouth as when you…do…Tony!" I'd moved to take her bra off, and had stopped paying attention.
"What?!"
"You don't need to do that."
"But I want to." I threw her bra aside and ripped her pants off. Instantly her legs slid closed and I growled. "Lisbon, you're killing me."
"Tony, you're being a dick."
"I don't get it."
"I don't either."
"I want to stick my tongue in you—what is so hard to understand about that?" It was an honest question. Liz and I had been fucking each other for almost five months now, and in those five months she has never let me go down on her. We've done just about everything, really. Everything. I literally have an app on my phone for sex positions, which we utilize daily. But no matter how hard I try she refuses to let me lick her. I want to so badly. It just torments me even more that it's the one thing she won't let me do. I've tasted her, from our fingers or as it drips down her thighs but, never from the source.
Now that she's told me her middle name. The reason behind this reluctance for 'eating out' is the one thing I don't know about her. "Talk to me Lisbon. You always talk to me." She lightly shoved me back and sat up, wrapped her arms around bent knees. She looked innocent. I've never seen this kind of vulnerability in her before. "You can tell me."
"It's too intimate."
Well, that just threw a fucking wrench in the metaphorical fan. "What do you mean? I thought you loved me?!"
"I do." Those hazel eyes from hell were burning me with their scorn. "Can't you just accept that I don't want you to do this? I love you but, damn Tony. It's too fucking close."
"I want to be close to you though. That and you taste really good. I could rock your world, if you'd let me."
"You already rock my world, you don't need to add anything for me. I swear. I'm not saying this to appeal to your stupid ego and use reverse psychology on you to get you to do it or anything like that. Just let it the fuck go!"
"You've never had a tongue down there, haven't you?"
"No, I haven't. But I don't see why that matters."
"Oh, my sweet girl come here." She was thrown off guard by the pet name and I was able to pull her close to me. Her back was against my chest, my arms around her waist. "You have no idea how good it'll feel. I promise to make you positively break. Lisbon…" I breathed in her wonderful scent of smoke, sugar, and spices, this was too fucking intimate. "Are you nervous?"
"No. I just don't want you to do it for a stupid reason."
"What's a stupid reason my sweet girl."
"You feeling obligated. You wanting it because I say no. You wanting to prove your masculinity or something like that. And what's with the silly pet name?"
"You don't like it?"
"No! I love it. I'm just curious how you came up with it?"
"I'll tell you later. Right now I want you to know that I honestly feel sort of obligated to you for all the times you went down on me, I also want to because it's that one thing I can't have, I want to show you just how amazing I can make you feel…and I really want that intimacy with you. Is that so wrong?" The first time I've been entirely honest with her, and the closest thing she's ever going to get to a love confession from me.
"I think that's the first time you've been completely honest with me." Fuck, she is good. I wonder if she knows about the other thing?
"Well?"
"Tony," she hid her face in my shoulder and spoke so softly I could barely hear, "what if I don't like it?"
"Lisbon, when have you ever doubted yourself on anything? This is just nerves. I promise you it'll be worth it."
"Tony, I think I know why you've been acting like this all day. And if you tell me the truth, I will let you fucking make love to my pussy with your tongue. But you need to answer honestly, okay?"
She shifted her position so I was leaning over her, she was still tense. I wanted to make that go away. We're completely comfortable with each other, except here. And I wanted to change that. "Okay. What?"
"Are you in love with me?"
"Yes!" It just slipped out. What the fuck was I supposed to do next?!