Month: May 2014

He could smell her (one shot)


She was smoking a joint outside the nightclub.  Talking to the bricks and bathing in sewer smog.  Sweat collected down her throat, behind her knees and across her lip. She was alone. The smoke, her only company. He was leaving through a back door.  Avoiding the crowd around front.  Looking to get lost. He could smell her before he saw her. The pungent stank of skunk weed wafting through the alleyway and the fruity notes of her perfume somewhere beneath.

Their eyes met and she giggled. “Caught me” She wobbled on her heels.  Black skirt fluttering in the light breeze.  Sheer red tank top revealing a black pushup bra underneath.  “Want?” she asked and she held the joint out to him.  She stumbled forward. Her lipstick smeared.  Strap of her pocketbook winding around her knees.  Threatening to trip her.  Then actually tripping her. Disoriented but determined she made it to his side.  “It’s good shit.” she laughed as she thrust her fatty in his face.

“I don’t smoke.” He said succinctly but he didn’t walk away from her. “What are you doing back here?”

“Hiding from the world.  You sure you don’t want? It’s gooood.”

“No, I don’t want.  And you should probably put that out. You’re already wasted.”

“Not wasted enough bub, I can still hear myself think.”  she stepped back and her ankle turned in on itself.  “Fuck!”

He looked her up and down.  Assessed her mess.  She was clearly inebriated.  Vulnerable.  Pale.  Fresh.  Tasty.

“Hey – I know you.”  she observed “You’re that guy … from that thing!”

“Yeah. I’m that guy.”  He looked down the alley away from the club and towards the idling cab. The other direction to the shadows and nothingness.  His need rose up in him from the great dark beyond.  “You should go home.” he suggested.  He was tempted.  Aroused.  In need.  She was there.  Like a present from the darkness.  Easy.

“You were in that movie … naked! You’re a bad boy.  Hah-hah.  I saw your bootie!” she snorted or flirted he couldn’t quite tell then said “Oh god, my stomach.” She groaned and leaned heavy on the dumpster beside her before collapsing to the ground “I think I might have had a little too much to drink.”  she struggled to stand.

“Allow me.” he said and he was at her side in a flash.  Slipping his arms beneath her and helping her back on her feet.  He could smell her flesh then.  Sweet and sour.  He licked his lips.  He was hungry.  “You here alone?”

“Aren’t I always?”

“It is very late.” He let his eyes roam up and down her body.  Her breasts heaving in the heat.  Sheer red top casting a shadow over her cleave but not a safety net.  “Bad things happen at this hour to pretty girls who are high as fuck and all alone.”  He circled around her then twisted a lock of her hair around his fingertips.  It coiled like a black snake. She looked up at him. Perplexed.  High as fuck.  Giddy.  Stupefied.  He slid his hand further in to her hair and massaged her neck before tilting her head to the side to expose her jugular.

She snapped her fingers.  Sloppily.  “You’re Jared Leto!”

“I am.”

“What’re you doing in an alleyway Jared Leto?”

“Having a bite to eat.”  And with that he swooped down on her like a vulture on fresh death.  His teeth sunk deep into her neck. Incisors invading her arteries.  His blue eyes sparkled black.  Twinkling night sky.  Onyx as he drank of her.   She did not moan, nor cry, nor whimper.  It was over in a second, for she was his dinner.

He wiped her from his mouth and dropped her to the ground before stepping over her corpse and sauntering down the alley to his waiting cab.  “Baltimore” He told the driver.  “Station North.”

She was drained.  He was replenished.

J one shot

Penny Baxter was a bitch.  A real stick up her ass, know-it-all cunt who never shut her fucking trap.  Ever.  But she had lovely tits.  A real handful.  Jared regularly daydreamed about blowing a load all over those moldable mountains after fucking her face with his big juicy cock. Every time she’d flitter in the room, her heels clicking like hyena claws all around the studio, he’d fantasize about it. Knocking her off those heels so she’d collapse to her knees.  Pulling her head back by the hair and dipping his dick deep down her throat until she gagged on his manly meat.  Spilling his juices all over her ample cleave.

He’d eye up her twiggy legs and dream about wrapping them around his face.  Burying his beard deep within her freshly waxed snatch.  He would taste her then tame her.  Shut her up with his talented tongue and she’d gladly submit.  He wanted to pulverize her asshole.  Sure that she was pure.  Rip her apart.  Fuck her again and again until he owned her. Until she lost all control and maybe for once, shut the fuck up.

It made his dick swell just to hear her voice on the intercom.

“Here she comes” the rest of the staff would warn.

“Send her up.” Jared would say.

But he wouldn’t be there to greet her when she clicked her way in to his office.  He’d be in the bathroom around the back yanking himself into a frenzy just so he could get through the meeting.  She’d ask him why he’s so tired and he’d smirk and blame work. But it was her, Penny Baxter, that made him weak with lust.  Penny Fucking Baxter his PR rep.

Wild Horses (20)

Liberty was born on a Sunday. Her entrance in to this world ethereal.  Aware and bright, were her blue eyes.  Swaddled in your arms until you brought her to my breast.  A new love bigger than anything we had ever known. Soul smacked.

Daddy’s girl took her first steps in to your arms.  Squeaked out your name and filled you with joy.  You taught her to swim in the pool out back at our ranch on Wrightwood.  When we moved to North Crescent you built her a slide then a diving board.  She would sing in tune with your guitar.  Two voices perfectly harmonizing the alphabet, Elmo’s song and Six Little Ducks.  Her fingers danced quickly over the piano keys.  Your little sponge.  Your little girl.

I learned to cook.  Taught pre-natal yoga.  And settled gladly in to a life with you, my husband, and our miracle child.  Time whittled away at the walls we built.  Eventually we let our guard down and went on living.  Your career flourished.  Music faded to the background while you concentrated on movies.  Your investments grew.  Life was good for us.

But … in the back of my mind always was a nugget of fear.  A knowing that Damien Joseph was still out there.  Cops long ago stopped returning our calls requesting an update on the case. Damien Joseph had vanished.  Hadn’t resurfaced for years.  That was good enough for them.  But I knew better.  Late at night after a long day, spent from love making and life building you’d confess that sometimes you thought about him too.  He still owned a piece of us both.  It wasn’t the fans or a rogue paparazzo that made us cling to Liberty so tight, it was him.

So, it goes without saying I wasn’t surprised when he appeared back in our life.  Liberty was nine. Her brother Danny, just three. We were lazying away the day on the beach in Malibu. Your friend’s beach front castle borrowed for the week.  Danny was collecting shells and Liberty was learning to surf.  I was a hundred pages deep in a mystery, you were watching a bird swoop in and out of the waves.  Our day was very California.  Lovely really. Until a bullet ripped through my temple and I fell in to your lap.



As requested… (19)

“Grab your computer.” You ordered.

“Are you kidding me? Why?”

“You mean you don’t want to marry me?”

“Of course I want to marry you. I love you.” I said and I snuggled up next to you on the couch “But what’s the rush?”

“The rush is, I don’t ever want a single person to look at this…us….and think we aren’t who we are.”  you kicked the stack of gossip rags that sat on our coffee table and they scattered to the ground.

“When did you start caring what other people think Jared?” I asked as I gazed at our two faces and my big belly on the cover of US Weekly.

“The day I met you.”

I shook my head.  I highly doubted that.

“There haven’t been many people in my life who I have needed like I need you.  You’ve changed me.”

“I doubt that.”

“Shannon says you thawed me out.”

“Jared” I sighed and I put my head on your lap. “I don’t need you to be my husband.  I love us, just as we are.  I love you as you are.  Freakish flaws and all.”  I tickled the back of your knee.  You hate that.

You wiggled away from me and smiled.  “Get your computer.”

“Ok but why?”

“We’ll fill out the marriage certificate papers online then go to the court house to finalize it.”

“You’re serious?  Today?”



“I want to marry you right now.  A dress and a church aren’t what makes this official.  Who would we invite anyway?  We just need us … and the government” You smirked and I was brought back to a moment where once again, a quick trip to the court house seemed like a good way to hold on to me forever.

“You’ve thought this all out already?”

“When these bastards figure out who you are” you sighed “I want your last name to be Leto.”

How could I argue with that?

You buried your hands in the hair by my ears then skimmed them down my neck as our kiss became more passionate.  Your mouth was firey.  Heavy breaths as you kissed me like the past.  Alive.  Full mouthed.  Tongue in and out, twisting and curling and taking me over.  My hands quickly undressed you as your mouth moved from mine to my neck, to my collarbone then to my breast.  You pulled at my clothes to disrobe me but your passion got ahead of you. You fumbled with my buttons, stumbled on my zipper.  Nerves.  New nerves.  Like we were coming together for the first time again.  You laid me down on the sofa.  My leg found the back and I propped it there.  You found yourself between my legs.  Pressing in to me.  You kissed between my breasts and softly over my growing womb.

“I love you baby.” you said to my belly button as your hand cupped the tight skin around my womb.

“And I love you Beth Nobody.” you sniffed as tears filled your eyes.  You kissed my mouth again.  “You’re the one. Holy shit.  You’re the one!”  your forehead pressed in to mine.  Your eyes were glossy.  Full with tears.

I sat up and pulled your shoulders down in to me so you could kiss me from above.  This was my happy place now.  Underneath the man of my dreams.  My savior.  My best friend.  My husband?

“Yes I will marry you Jared Leto.” I said as the tears escaped my eyes.  “Today.”

You smiled big and turned me on my left side. “I want you so bad right now” you whispered in my ear.  I spread my legs and scooched myself in to your lap.  You entered me and moaned immediately.  So tight.  Two spoons.  You slowly moved your cock in and out of me.  Your tip teasing my clit.  Balls deep so your root then teased too.  Slow and melodic.  Rhythmic and steady.  You came deep within me. Shuddering and calling my name.  Your wife.  Today I will become your wife. (18)

The next morning there it was.  In your email asking for a comment and on my favorite gossip site’s homepage.

Jared Leto & Mystery Pregnant Woman Late Night Stroll

Jared Leto Shows Off Pregnant Girlfriend

Jared Leto Settles Down and Starts Family with Mystery Woman

“Um.” I mumbled as I read the articles in bed next to you.

You didn’t say a word.  You just clicked off your email and sunk back in to your pillow.

“And so it begins.” you grumbled from behind your hands.


“It was going to happen eventually.” you rolled over to face me and propped yourself up on an elbow  “You’re not a secret.  It just annoys me because this is none of their business and now they’re going to dissect our lives in to bite sized pieces so others can digest it.  It’s pointless exposure.  An invasion that’s so fucking unnecessary … Ok, I’m going to go shower.”

You flung the covers off of you and scampered off to the bathroom.  I listened to you pee then turn on the shower before I was sure you weren’t coming back and it was safe to open my laptop again.  I looked at all the pictures.  Googled a dozen articles.  Even trolled around twitter. All with a giant smile on my face.  Freedom.  I could taste it!  The Echelon was a-flutter.  Most seemed to think I was just fat (thanks HäagenDazs) but there were a few that could identify my stage of pregnancy to the minute.  I hunted down the girls I used to chat with on the daily, they did remember me and they were talking about me. Nicely. I wanted to tweet until my head exploded but your shower was already over.  I closed the laptop and picked up my novel.  I was rereading Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children (or at least pretending to).

“Well, Beth” You clapped your hands once to get my attention “Feel like getting married today?”


Wrightwood Road (17)

“I’m going to head down to the other house for a few hours to do some work. I’ll leave you my AMEX so you can go online to buy some things for up here.  Towels, plates …books?” You smiled and you made the card snap when you laid it on the brand-new white-marble kitchen counter.

“Oh my God I’m living a scene from Pretty Fucking Woman!”

“Knock it off.  We need to actually move in here now.  No more Penthouse suites for Julia Roberts!”

“Har Har” I snarked.

“I’ll be back tonight!” you called as you left through the garage.  “Mind the budget!”

What, no kiss?  I was getting used to being the neglected old wife.  Almost two months had passed since I moved to LA.  You bought the house.  Hired the contractors.  Paid the bills.  I floated around the pool, shopped online and filled my fat face with everything not nailed down.  The baby bump had arrived and so had a ravenous hunger followed by epic puke fests.  I got fatter by the day. Bored-er by the minute.  Insane-er by the second.  Still didn’t officially exist here.  Hadn’t changed my license.  Hadn’t gone exploring.  Just hidden away in my tower on the hill waiting until I’m presentable or for a call from Sargent Andrews saying they caught Damien Joseph and he was already rotting in his cell where he’d be for all of eternity.

According to you, my dear sweet Jared, I should be very busy.  My job while I’m homebound is to take this blank pallet (our life together and this home) and turn it in to something special.  But I don’t want to. I’m not Martha Stewart.  I don’t want to be Martha.  Just get one of everything from Pottery Barn and call it a day.  I’ll light the candles on the mantle once someone else sets it all up. I promise!

I don’t have Princess syndrome.  I have I don’t give a fuck about statement pieces-itis.  But here I am, and there you go.  Out the door again.  To a lunch.  To a dinner.  To the opening of a tin can.

This is all so … BORING!

 * * *

 Later that night you came home and found me passed out on a chaise lounge out by the pool.  I was drooling and you said snoring but I’m not sure I believe that part.  You peeled my book off my face and planted a kiss on my lips.

“It’s dark out here.” You said.

“It’s dark in there too.” I responded.

“You didn’t buy any lamps? I thought you were going to shop today?”

“I don’t want to buy lamps!” I cried.

“What? Why are you crying?”

“I don’t like it here Jared.” I puffed out my bottom lip and crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t have a life!”

You looked around at all you had given me and then back in my eyes.  “I didn’t know you were unhappy.”

“I’m bored!”

“Of course you’re bored.  Would you like to go out?”

“Would I – HELL YES I WANT TO GO OUT!” I shouted.

“Ok then.  Let’s go out.  Go get dressed.”

“Ooh! Where we going?” I asked as you ushered me inside.

“Santa Monica?”

“Sounds good to me!”

So we went and it was wonderful.  You held my hand and we strolled the boardwalk.   You bought me ice cream and even cheagan vegan’d a lick.  We oogled babies in carriages, I won you a teddy bear and as far as we know, no one recognized you. Not too bad for a summertime Tuesday.


New Me/New You (16)


“JAYYYYYY” I shouted from high in our property.  “Jared!?”

You came running across the lawn and up the brick steps towards me frantically screaming “What? What?”

“Look! There’s a fire pit up here!” I was standing on a landing carved out of the hill that climbed upward at the back of our property. The old occupants must have forgotten a few things.  There were some patio chairs around a stone fire pit in a little spot on the back of the lot.  An enormous set of steps led up to me but it still seemed like a secret spot in the garden.

“Jesus Christ! You scared the fuck out of me!” you said as you climbed the steps to me.

When you reached the landing, I put my hands on your hips and said “Oh no.  Not that.  Anything but that.”

“You can’t just scream …” I ran my hand over your crotch feeling every sleepy inch of you. “Like that.”

“Can we build a fire up here?” I asked as I slid my hand inside your pants to feel you. Your dick is so thick.  Lengthy and full. I stroked slowly, my thumb focused on the tender underside and you grew hard in my hand.

“Yeah. Whatever you want” you mumbled, your attention drawn to the motion of my hand on your cock.

I kissed you a few times and you softly kissed me back. “I want you, Jared J. Leto.”

“Are you sure you feel ok?”

“It’s our first night in our new house Jared, we have to christen it.”

We’ve been together since ‘the incident.’ But very carefully, reserved and well planned.  A pillow here.  A leg over there. Patient and carefully positioned sex.  More mechanical than sensual.  But I was feeling pretty good today.  Pretty good and really fucking horny.  I wanted our spontaneity back and to be manhandled by your lust again.

“We’re not actually in our new house right now. It’s down there.” You pointed down the hill to tease me.

“I want to christen every inch of this property.” I said and I continued to rub your cock.

You moaned when I sped up my hand job “Mmm”

“You like that?” I asked.

“yeah” you croaked and I bit your shoulder softly.

While I nibbled your neck, you slipped a hand under my t-shirt to caress my boob. My nipple slipped between your fingers and you twisted it slightly before giving it a pinch. “Mmmmmm” I moaned now.   I wanted to taste you.  To feel your throbbing dick in my throat but I was sure my jaw wouldn’t allow it.  The pain might be worth it for the pleasure it would give me but I didn’t think you’d have the heart to go through with it.  You pulled your hand away from my breast and ran it down my stomach until it disappeared inside my shorts.  You tickled my little patch of hair before searching for my clit.  Your middle finger rubbed my bud back and forth.  At a similar pace to my strokes.  We both moaned.  Our kisses brief but our lips still touching as we gasped for air.

You backed off me for a moment, your eyes glazed and sparkling with lust.  You looked around for a place to sit.

“Over here.”  You said and you slipped your workout pants off.  Your blue briefs came off with them.  You sat on the edge of one of the newly discovered patio chairs.  Your cock high and ready for mounting.  I scooted out of my shorts and pulled my top over my head.  My bra was already off my chest so I left it clasped around my upper waist.

I took a moment to look at you naked on the patio chair.  Your long hair cascading down your chest, covering a nipple and your PIA tattoo.  Your cross necklace dangling down but hanging higher than the ends of your hair.  Your tight stomach. Tattooed arms and wrists.  Massive cock straight up off cut hips and muscular thighs. So fucking handsome.  Every inch of you.

I turned around and backed myself slowly in to your lap before impaling myself with you.  Deep at first.  I like to feel all of you inside of me. Filling me completely.  Then I rose and fell in long strokes up and down your cock. You unclasped my bra and let it fall to the ground.  My boobs bounced up and down as I rode you.  Your hands aided my hips until you slid them under my butt to watch yourself disappear inside of me.  You kissed my spine and squeezed my breasts as our pace got faster and faster.  I hadn’t reached my peak yet and you were well aware so you slid your hand around my thigh to my pussy where you vigorously rubbed my clit.  One hand on my breast, one on my bud.  Your hot cock inside me.  It was only a moment, not two, before I released and called out your name.  A moment later, you did the same and moaned mine.