Sunday, 31 March 2013

She drains the sun.4

“I wish I could kill all the heteros, but looking at how long it took me to kill off my sister, it would take too long, they are dying off anyway.” She starts fiddling with her red hair and then her lips are all over mine again.

“Fuck.” She whispers and grins, her fingers sliding into my underwear.

“What if I were bisexual?” I ask.

Karen stops.

She starts laughing.

“You? You’re not, you’re as gay as day.” She traces her tongue on my clit, giving me shivers, pressing me on the bed as her tongue starts tracing everything between my legs, she starts sucking on my clit.

Now it’s my turn to say fuck.

“I had a bisexual, girlfriend, y’know, biggest shite of my life, brought home a dildo with balls.” Then she starts making motions with a hand above her head. “Fucking brainwashed, sex is dick, oooooh, we need a dick, here, here and here.”

And she sticks her tongue inside me.

I come.

“That’s more like it.” Karen soaks her fingers in my cum. “In theory nothing against bisexuals unless they’re fucking bigots. No, I don’t have anything against anyone who is not an asshole. I’d just want some people’s skulls under my feet.”

“Let’s get milk.” I say dry mouthed, looking at the older woman, having fear in my head, clouding my drink and I even cough slightly. The ice cream girl kisses me on the mouth, tongues licking, as she takes hers out, eyes opened and traces my lips with hers.

I start shivering, we’ll never stop having sex.

I spread my legs.

“Fuck you.” I say and she is above me, before sliding her pussy against mine and I give out a moan.

“Whacha gonna do about it school girl?” She licks my neck up to my lips, thrusting herself against me and I just keep moaning.

I feel paranoid.

How old is she?

“Nothing, just sex, lesbian.” I start frenching her as she keeps thrusting and I can’t even move, my whole body shaking, my clit soaked and I keep leaking more juices, biting her lips. Karen catches the game.

“Two lesbians fucking, is that what you like.” She grabs me with one hand by my cheeks, pulling my bottom lip, pulling my nipple.

I start whispering my moans until I scream, coming, hard, squirting onto the bed covers, my hair back and I look at the ceiling, how white it is and I can see Karen painting it even with her fingers, naked, and I come again.

I can’t stop shaking, my body shivering an orgasm after another as Karen watches before before she comes herself, squirting as well, our come mixing, becoming sticky and rubbing against our vaginas.

She kisses me. She consumes me, like a nightmare she eats me alive, making me paranoid with her existence as we head out and walk down the royal mile, holding hands as if I were her sister, long dead sister.

I wonder how she looked like.

In the middle of the festival, with people, she takes me by the cheeks again and kisses me,  eyelashes covering us as clouds. She’s like the night’s moon patronizing, gleaming through with it’s old wisdom and sins, spies on the rest.

What if she’s older than earth itself, what if Karen was eating an apple, we gays never die, we avoid evolution, we’re always here, we do not have to multiple, just like man eats meat, we eat heterosexuals, we are like parasites, but we all are, some eat meat, some eat injustice, we eat the people who will never give us rights at this moment.

Karen heads into a small newsagent and goes straight to the milk, choosing, her heart rainbow pinned to her white shirt, her yellow skirt shivering with the light cold summer.

I hear a woman mumble something in a language I don’t understand, something eastern and they walk behind her, one lifting her skirt and I hear them say “sin” and “gay”. The door of the shop closes. Now, I’m eating an apple I managed to quickly pay for and Karen takes out a knife from her pocket.

“Whore!” Now in English a woman yells and slaps Karen across the face. She points her finger at the ice cream lady.

“You turned daughter to devil!” She yells and takes a bottle of milk, opening it and pouring it over Karen. The mother then slaps Karen again, as her knife brushes against the woman’s cheek. “Daughter dead, but you alive!”

She says that and then grasps her cheek.

“HOMOPHOBIA IS ILLEGAL AND YOU KNOW THAT JUSTICE WILL BE ON MY SIDE!” And the woman gets stabbed, as Karen puts the small knife through her stomach, blood coming out, of the eyes she had stabbed with her boot.

“FUCKING HOMOPHOBE! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!” Snot falls on the woman, as Karen keeps yelling and I just stare as she finishes the woman off. I end up vomiting on the woman’s face, not because I want to, but because it’s so gross.

Me and Karen share a cigarette as she looks out on the Royal Mile, dark blue colouring the streets.

“Second killing. So many fuckers to go. I don’t think we need to feed off them anymore, I’d rather just die, but die without them.” The ice cream lady doesn’t say anything about the eastern daughter, instead she just tastes my fear on the tip of my tongue, growing like a plant deeper into my throat, reaching the throat and then she looks at me and kisses as the police comes by and takes us away into the dark blue velvet.


Well, here it is, I was always thinking these past days about it. I did it in two sittings, it's actually funny that Callie was asking me if I was going to kill someone off and I said that no, the story doesn't match it, yet here it is.

I love Karen's character and I love Alison's fear.

Hope you enjoyed it and I'm off to write chapter 5. Wanna read chapter 5? REQUEST!

Thank you


Wednesday, 27 March 2013

Poison the Rose

“Lana, you remind me of the first girl I loved.

A gangsta Nancy Sinatra and her pussy tasted like pepsi cola.” And sparkles on the slippers. I joke and I lick her neck, holding my hands to myself as she eats ice cream. We’ve fucked already, nearly past our first day. I had grabbed her backstage and stuck my hand in her jeans, Lana closing her eyes and I had attacked her neck just as I am now in a small place to be a diner, as if there would be a flag above us and I want to finger her again. I look around, both of our arrows smudged and her lipstick looking like a pussy, muffled by my sex and I kiss her again, my tongue sliding in and out, like fucking.

Then Lana stands up and we head into the ladies, pushing the wooden door open and I slide down, licking her blouse down and pushing her skirt up, tugging on her skin on the legs until I slide my tongue inside her as she starts shaking and thrusting agains my tongue. I slide two fingers up her ass as well, sucking harder on her clit, thrusting with everything I can.

Lana screams coming, her come sliding onto my tongue, as I keep licking teasingly, my fingers slowly coming out, as I kiss her stomach, kissing her up, her legs barely keeping her as then she stands, her skirt still up, eyes closed, skin all flushed and swollen due to all the love I’ve painted and she pushes me against her, hugging me tight and sliding her hand now to tease me as I start biting her neck, licking it as then she goes down, spreading my legs, spreading my pussy and tickling it with her tongue before she takesit in her mouth and starts sucking, hard, teasing my entrance, sticking her tongue inside as I start shaking and she grabs my butt cheeks and I come.

I keep shaking, gasping, pressing her mouth harder, I have no idea how she can breathe.



And she can’t.

I see her eyes open wide, blood spreading in the wings of the angel, snow helping her draw the feathers, as then the police take her body up and her hair starts falling off, all of it seems to be cut off as I keep screaming mixed with tears, snot running into my mouth, making me cough, her hair keeps falling like feathers, not leaving her anything to fly with.

Her eyes stare at me,

as she is taken away.

You’re so beautiful you make me want to hate you.


Sorry I've written it quite a while ago and I've been busy and yay, here it is:D There's a lot coming up there so please feel free to request:)

Thank you and hope you liked it:)


Poison the Rose 2

Sunday, 10 March 2013

"I don't think music will ever match my state of mind." Red curtains and kisses.

I blow bubbles into the water, my eyes still swollen from the flu and my whole body feels like a bursting bubble, only my walls are elastic and I cannot die.

Peter puts his head on the edge of the tub and his hands come to my forehead, running his fingers through my hair, lifting up, my eyes close and he pours water on my hair, blood gushing out of my nose, all of it dry now turns into paint and I gasp, opening my eyes, maybe even a third to see nothing at all.

“Pete.” The r is muffled and he doesn’t glare at me, he looks a bit stoned, laughing at the blood and maybe I’ve even not got teeth, I look down at the stitch in my arm as Pete pinches it and we both laugh.

A pub fight is never funny when you’re out of it, but at the moment it was with a bunch of people calling everyone a fag and then I had jumped on Peter all the glass shattering underneath us, leaving the moon under his eye.

The artist lights a cigarette and he dunks his hair under the water and with a gasp I dive in to meet him underneath and kiss.

I keep my head dunked and my eyes closed, the bubbles making a halo within my hair and I open my mouth, letting water go in and I see myself in claustrophobia, as if I’m in a new aisle and people swirl nowhere and just a few choose cookies with smilies drawn on them, an echo of a posh place turned shabby or maybe it’s just a late hour and I wonder where had the money gone and Peter yanks me up, kissing me more hastily, his tongue travelling to my mouth, his hand running down my chest, his body sliding down, Peter’s hand touching my cock and I gasp, my eyes closing as he starts stroking my cock. I lean my head back, letting my body immerse, water nearly going over the edge, as Peter goes in and he sits on top of me.

I look at him, as he exposes his neck and then lets me go inside him.

“Fuck.” It said in between the air.

He starts moving up and down, as I take his cock in my hand, rubbing his tip, pulling it, tugging it, feeling Peter around me, as he pulls me closer crashing my mouth against his. I bite his tongue as he moans.

I get myself deeper in the water, then get my head in, watching him move in ecstasy on the  other side and I grasp his hips, helping him thrust, watching him closer until I lift myself and then I change positions, dipping him in, gasping and watching the bubbles form circles in his eyes as I take him out and let my hand play harder with cock.

We both stop, myself deep inside him and he starts rocking his hips against my own and I bite his chin, harder and harder as the thrusts come back and I starts drawing wings with my own fingertips, not with nails, as both of our breathing become more shallow and our eyes are barely open, I reach a peak, Peter still thrusting and his breathing close to screams and I feel warm fluid join the water, both mine and his and we both scream, water rocking out of the tub and we both reach the end.

We gasp both a few more times, thrusting, keeping the feeling bottled up and then I collapse on Peter’s shoulder, biting it before kissing if I had been too rough.

Peter has rings of all his former lovers, I look at them and they were mere coincidences, when things just happen and you bead them into a necklace and then you tattoo them to make wings to just spread them yet never fly.

I start putting the rings on all my fingers, not knowing which ones belong to Amy or Kate or Irina, all seem too women. I light a cigarette, bathing the silver things in smoke. Peter stands in the doorway as I eat fragile smoke, blowing it out slowly, feeling it as if clouds.

My cheek tastes of metal and if I stick a finger inside, my blood starts colouring the rings, shattering the women in his life, contaminating myself in his memories, fucking all the women instead of him, out.


The title came from discussing the fact that it's been awful to try and find matching music and I've been writing to the same Lana del Rey songs as everything else is even more depressing, I really don't know what to listen to. Sorry for the long wait, I've been rather ill and stuck on antibiotics and a bunch of everything.

I've been dying to write about Jonny Greenwood, I've tried before and long ago and he's been in my head and it's an interesting pairing really. Jonny's broken feels are me being ill really and the claustrophobia is a phobia I have. I guess it's quite personal as everything is.

I hope you enjoyed it and I hope my health will be better XD

Feel free to request:)

Thank you