| ...justin... by destiny Justin's head swam as the girl sucked on him, using her tounge as a weapon. He moved his hips in time with her mouth, and felt those familiar feelings rise inside. He couldn't stop, not even if he wanted to, and he thrust upwards as he came, expelling every ounce of himself into the moist recesses of this girl, this blonde with the huge tits and small ass, this girl who'd cornered him, capturing him with wet kisses, and refilling his drink, this blonde with no conscious and no worries. He almost cried as he came, almost. The tears were so fucking close, and he wanted to let them go, give in to his emotions, his heart which was breaking right in two, for what? For her, a fucking woman who he thought he loved. If he did love her, why? Why the hell was he here, with this girl sucking him like a vulture, taking what he had, draining him to endless abandon? She stood up, an angelic look on her face, little white droplets of his semen on her lips. He was replused, digusted with himself and his lack of control, his inablitly to say no, say get the fuck off me, yell at them to get out, leave him be. "Should I stay?" she asked, green eyes full of hope. Justin leaned back, tucking his deflating penis back into his pants. "No. I have to get some rest." He felt like he should say more, like there was so much more to say. He knew she wouldn't really care, and would most likely be on groupiecentral the next day bragging about him, bad or good, he wasn't sure he cared. And the most depressing thought...he would be on there checking. JC told him it didn't matter what they thought, what people said, that it was only important to know yourself that you were a good person. JC and his fucking theories. The guy was chock full of them. Ideals and delusions of grandeur, living life in a bubble, one that no one could burst. He rolled over as she dressed, watching idilly as she retrieved her black lace bra, snapping it on. She had no regret in her eyes, nothing to tell him that she was sorry, or sad that they'd drank together, and made out a bit before he'd pushed her to her knees, rubbing her face in his crotch, toward his budding erection. He watched as she slid her g-string up over her flawless legs, over her tiny hips and ass. His eyes closed and he sighed, heavily, trying to remember what it was he was supposed to be doing in the morning. Something, but what? He heard her clothes rustling about as she finished dressing. "I'll never forget you, Justin," she grinned, blowing him a kiss. Justin forced a smile back, not feeling it at all. He just wanted her out, out of his house, out of his life. He had a fucking girlfriend, one that would dump his ass in a heartbeat if she found out about his indiscretions. She would not even bother to look back. Not at him and his pathetic attempt to be human. He was far from human, having come to expect favors from everyone. If he didn't get a table in a posh place immediately, he trashed the resturant. He was only 20, and expected to be so much older. He lay over as she left, and stared up at the ceiling, making out the shadows and patterns that crossed over the off white paint. Sex was so fucking empty, and it didn't give him what he craved, although he wasn't sure what he craved. Something, though. Something more than what his life held. His big blue eyes gazed, unblinking. He didn't know what he was looking at, some spot that was so tiny he wasn't sure it was even there. If he was Justin Timberlake, really Justin Timberlake, what did that mean? Who the fuck was he anyway? The phone rang and he ignored it, listening to the answering machine as JC's voice filled his room. "Hey, J, its me. Just checking in. Don't forget we need to meet at nine for some vocals. Lance is flying in tommorrow to join us. You okay, man? You haven't seemed yourself. Anyway, gimme a call." Justin sighed, scratching his stomach, his heart just starting to return to normal. He had to get a grip. And soon. |