TITLE: Eighteen
RATING: NC17
WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT
SUMMARY: Gina is invited to an "After Superman Video Shoot Party".
NOTE: I do NOT condone unprotected sex. However, with fiction- it's hard to work in the use of a condom and keep the momentum of the piece and since it's FICTION and he's not ACTUALLY having sex with a porn star- I didn't include it. HOWEVER if you're having sex with or without a porn star- I suggest you use protection! :-D
-Eighteen-
"Ya know whacher problem is, Man?"
"No. What?" Marshall asked his friend, annoyed. Proof just wouldn't give this up. Would he?
"Ever since the fuckin' Brittany fiasco- you been… not fun."
"Sorry- wasn't aware I wasn't no fun no more."
"Nah- that ain't what I mean and you know it, motherfucker. Ya just gotta loosen up."
"Yo, I'm loose, Dog. Don't tell me I ain't loose." His friend just stared at him. "What?"
"What I'm saying is that you gotta have a good hard fuck. That's what I'm sayin'."
"WHAT?" He wasn't that surprised that his friend would suggest something lude, but here? However, Proof had had a few too many beers.
"And I'm not talkin' 'bout Kim. Prolly woulda never split if you'd both been satisfied-"
"Stop it!" Marshall ordered. They were in a fuckin' HOTEL for Christ sake!
"But from a professional… ya know- trained at world class fuckin'."
"You're wasted, Man," Marshall said.
"But I speak the truth!" Proof insisted. "I *know* you haven't had a good fuck in a while, Dog. *You* know it too. Admit it!"
"Fine. Okay? You're right." It's not like he hadn't the thoughts himself. It's not like he didn't *know* he hadn't a good fuck in seven months and twenty-three days. But with Hailie, his daughter, and the movie… it was getting harder and harder to get with a woman. He was too big- too much press and paparazzi kept him from having any sort of personal life.
"I know I am, Bitch. That's why ya gonna go wit' Gina tonight and have a good time."
"Excuse me?" Marshall said, confused.
"That's right, Dawg- gonna get fucked tonight- and good too."
"Gina who?" Marshall said, getting increasingly pissed with his friend.
"Gina Lynn. She fuckin' *hot*, Man. And *nice*- plus- she's not gonna go and fuck you wit' the media. It's perfect! Merry Christmas, Em!"
Just then, there was a knock on the door and Paul arrived with Jimmy. But Marshall was still tryin' to figure out what Proof had said. Gina Lynn? What, had Proof arranged this?
"Yo!" He grabbed his friend's arm and pulled him into the kitchen. "What the fuck you talkin' 'bout? With Gina?"
"You said you'd fuck her 'cause she so fine, right?"
"WHAT? I wasn't SERIOUS! I'm not gonna fuckin'… ask her to be in a fuckin' video and then make it conditional on her fucking me!"
"She's a fuckin' porn star, Man. Don't think she'll mind, trust me on this."
"What? Did you ask her?"
"Nah- well- was hangin' out and heard her say she liked you- thought you was cute. So I told her of yer little problem-"
"MY PROBLEM?!" Marshall had never been so pissed at his best friend. "What problem is THAT, Nigger?"
"Eh-yo! Don't get bitchy! Save your strength for later. Just told her that you couldn't get with somebody 'cause a the press. She said she'd do ya. So- while everyone parties in celebration of the video bein' done- you and she can slip off to your room. Press'll never know it."
Well. It *did* seem pretty fool-proof. But still… he didn't feel right about it.
"I don't know…"
"Don't be a pussy," Proof said. "Have yourself some fun 'fore goin' back to Hailie for Christmas and havin' to deal with Kim's bullshit."
"Whatever, Man," Marshall said and walked back into the living room as more of the crew members arrived. <Probably won't even come up, he thought, she was probably just kiddin' anyway.>
Twenty minutes later, Marshall had relaxed a bit and was leaning against the wall when there was a knock on the door. He walked over with his beer and opened the door. <Oh great!> "Hey, Gina. Come on in."
"I brought brownies!" She said cheerfully.
"Didn't have to. We got enough food."
"Yeah- well, I promised your friends that I'd make 'em. Best brownies you'll ever have."
He took the brownies from her while she slipped her jacket off to reveal a short skirt and a see through shirt with a tank top and bra underneath. Niiiice, Marshall thought, but then reminded himself that Proof had been kidding. He was sure of it. He hardly thought porn stars would go around and *offer* it when they weren't at work. And was that really what he wanted? To fuck a porn star? <Hell, yeah!… NO. No, Marshall.>
He put the brownies down and was surprised when she pulled him into a hug. He swallowed hard when she seemed to pull him a *bit* *closer* than a friendly hug.
"Well- come on in," he offered when she let him go. <Fuck,> he thought. <I should *not* get excited over one fuckin' hug.> But he was- it had been far too long since he'd been with a woman.
"Thanks. I'd love to *come* in," she said and he had to later play back that comment in his head to catch her emphasis on the word 'come' in that sentence. "Where should I put the brownies?"
"No room on the table yet. We can leave 'em in the kitchen for now. Here, I'll show you."
"Thanks. I really appreciate the invite tonight."
"Well- you flew out at a moment's notice. And I appreciate it- you just… had the look I wanted for the video. Ya know-"
"Slutty?" She laughed a bit. "Wonder why? But hey- I don't mind being typecast. I'm in a fuckin' *Eminem* video! My manager's pretty happy about that."
She'd followed him into the kitchen and he couldn't help but notice she was standing just a *bit* too close for comfort.
He stepped back and said, "So- when do you go back home?"
"Couple days. Thought I'd take in the sights."
"Ever been to LA before?"
"Couple times, but nothing substantial."
"Oh," he took another sip of his beer and realized- "Do you want something to drink?"
She took another step toward him and he was against the counter. "Relax, Marshall," she said, touching his arm. <Fuck, only in my *dreams* would a girl like *this* ever come on to me!>
"I'm relaxed," he responded. "I am. Just… uncomfortable. Did Proof-"
"Tell me you were hard up? Yes," she said with a grin, before pressing herself against him. "Ya know… the whole *bed* scene was… *nice*."
Oh and it had been. He took a minute to remember how it felt to be rubbing against her as if he'd been *with* her…
But no. "Gina… don't get me wrong," he said, stepping around her to put some space between her and his growing erection. "I like you, I do. You're really nice and… hot- but this isn't necessary. I mean- you don't gotta fuck me because I put you in a video."
"What if I wanted to fuck you because I like you?"
"Gina…"
"Marshall- I'm not saying I'm in love with you or anything. Just physical attraction. Ya know- you're nice and mildly attractive-" she laughed a bit. "Besides… you can't tell me the reason you called me was because I looked like a 'nice person'. You called me because I played a stripper in a movie. But hey- if the porn thing bothers you then-"
"I didn't say that!" He said quickly.
"So…" she took a step toward him, and then another and another and this time, he didn't move away. "Shall we… go somewhere?" Her lips were practically touching his- he could feel her breath on his face, her tits pressed against his chest…
"Yeah," he whispered, slipping his arm around her waist. He closed the distance between their lips and moaned when she kissed him back. "Yeah," he repeated.
"Where's your room?" She asked quietly as she slipped her hand down to rub his dick through his pants.
"Fuck-" he groaned. It had been *way* too long. "Down stairs."
"Ooo… we'll have to be sneaky."
She started to pull away from him but he stopped her, "No- don't stop," he said, holding her hand on his cock. "*Please* don't stop."
"Relax, Baby," she whispered. "I'ma do you *real* good."
<Shit- ain't this what *every* guy dreams of?> She kissed him again before reluctantly pulling away.
"We better go *now*," she said softly, "If we're gonna get away."
"Yeah," he agreed. "Come on." He took her hand and led her out of the kitchen.
"Em! There you are. Was lookin' for you-"
"Paul- now ain't a good time," he told his manager, lawyer and friend. "Was just gonna-"
"I told you we have some new scripts for you to read, right?"
"Yeah- but can we talk about this later?" He was growing annoyed. He didn't want her to lose interest or change her mind because quite frankly- it was perfect. No attachments. No expectations. Just a really good night before the holiday's.
"Well-"
"Look," Gina interrupted. "Marshall was gonna walk me down to the lobby so I can have a smoke. We'll catch ya later," she said, grabbing his arm and tugging him toward the door.
"Thanks," he whispered in her ear.
"You can thank me in a few minutes," she said quietly, running her hand down his stomach toward his-
"HEYO!" Proof stumbled toward them. "Emeneminem- yo!"
"Fuck- later, Man," he said, pushing him aside.
"Have fun, Dawg!" Proof called after him as he opened the door.
He looked down both ends of the hallway. He sighed in relief. There was no one in the hallway- no one to see or take pictures. "Mad dash for the stairs," he said, pulling her to the end of the hallway.
She laughed as they raced through the door. "Wait!" Gina said and pulled him toward her. He pushed her against the door and kissed her passionately. She could kiss- he'd expect nothing less.
His hands slid up her front and he was at last able to touch her- rub her tits. <I'm touching a porn star right now!> He couldn't get over the thought and ground against her.
"Fuck," she groaned. "Your room… your room *now*."
"Yeah," he gasped, kissing her once more before tearing himself away. They laughed as they ran down the flight of stairs. He looked out the window and "Fuck- someone's out there."
"Shit," she said, "kiss me," she added before pushing him against the door. Her hand crept under his shirt and slid into his pants to grab his cock. "Fuck," she said. "Touch me."
She took his hand and led it under her skirt. "Shit," he said, surprised at her lack of panties. He pet her pussy lips, feeling the wet heat they held inside. He slipped his index finger inside her and swallowed her whimpers as he kissed her.
Gina pushed his pants off him, along with his boxers, giggling a bit as she slid down to the floor.
"Fuck- you don't-"
"Shh," she said, licking the tip of his cock. "Just relax. I'm *very* good at this."
"I'm sure you are, but-" he couldn't say anything else because she was licking around the base of his dick, rubbing his thighs, gripping his ass, pulling him toward her, guiding him into her mouth. "FUCK!" He growled as he watched her swallow him. "Shit."
He held her head, buried his hands in her hair, as she worked on him. It didn't take long before he was ready to pop. "Soon," he whimpered and wanted to cry when she pulled away. "Wh-"
"Trust me," she said. She slid her hands along his length as she stood up. She pulled him toward her and then flipped them so she was leaning against the wall. "Now-" she lifted one leg up and he guided her legs around his hips. <Shit. Good thing I work out.> He'd never actually pulled this off- the standing thing. But he'd always wanted to try it.
"Fuck," he groaned as she pushed him inside her. "Shit- feels good."
"I agree," she panted before kissing him again. She rolled her hips forward, rocked on him and it felt amazing. One night of great sex. Proof was a fuckin' genius! "Shit, Marshall- so big-"
<Damn right!> He thought to himself as he thrust inside her. "Gonna-"
"Then do it," she said. "Come inside me- fill me up."
He slipped a hand between them and rubbed her clit between his fingers and screamed as he came.
"Shitshitshit-" she chanted as she felt him spilling himself inside her. He pinched her clit suddenly and "MARSHALL!"
He relaxed against her a bit, trapping her between his body and the wall. "Shit, Gina-"
"I know," she whispered into his neck. "Told you I'd do you right."
"Guess you did," he said as she pulled away and she slid her legs to the floor. He pulled his pants up and she smoothed her skirt out.
"Not finished with you," she said, glancing out the window of the door. "Coast is clear," she said.
He led her to his room and they got inside quickly, without being spotted. "Hope no one was in the stairwell," he said to himself.
She laughed when she heard him. "Didn't think that much."
"Should have," he said, pouring them each a glass of water. "You don't need the press. *I* sure as fuck don't need the press."
"You kidding? More press the better as far as I'm concerned. I'll sell more."
"And do you *like* doing what you do for a living?"
"Yes. Wouldn't do it if I didn't like it," she shrugged.
"Yeah… but-"
"I'm a porn star?" She asked. She'd heard it before. "Well… I get paid to have orgasms with gorgeous men. I don't think it's a terrible life." She placed her glass on the table and walked over to him. "But… let's not talk about that," she said as she took his glass from him and threw it against the wall.
"Okay," Marshall whispered before pulling her against him.
As they kissed, he stepped out of his sneakers, she out of her shoes and she started tearing at his shirt, pulling it up over his head.
He remembered how good it had felt to rub against her in the video and it felt better now that it was happening for real.
He slowly unbuttoned the sheer blouse and pushed it off her shoulders as she kissed him passionately. He wondered how many men she'd kissed for a second before she was pushing his pants down and began rubbin' his dick.
"Fuck, Gina," he groaned as she pushed him back onto the bed.
He slid up the bed and watched as she dropped her skirt onto the floor and crawled up after him.
"Ya know," she said, running a finger up his length. "You're quoted saying you got a small penis… but you were *obviously* being modest."
"I'm shy," he said with a smirk. "Now, ya gonna fuck me or what?"
"So *rude*," she said with a throaty laugh. He nearly came undone when she took his cock and rubbed it against her wet cleft. "But I'm hungry for you- so I'll let it slide."
"Why don't you *slide* me in*side* and gimme a ride?"
"Is that the best you've got, Mr. Rapper?" She teased.
"Maybe, maybe not. Fuck me and we'll see."
"Oh- I'm gonna *fuck* you," she said, pulling her tank top off.
"Wanna see you," he said, sliding his hands up her back to her bra strap. He had it off in a second and enjoyed the view- her rosy nipples were hard and he sat up and buried his face between them.
Gina just laughed and stroked him as he kissed her tits. "Alright… get inside me," she said. "Hard and fast."
He flipped them over quickly and she wrapped her legs around his hips as he slammed inside her. "OHMYGOD!" She screamed in pleasure as he thrust inside her over and over. "Shit, Em… harder."
"Oh, you want it harder?" He asked, lust heavy on his voice.
"Always," she breathlessly whispered. "And deeper."
And he obliged, pulled out almost completely before throwing all of his weight into her and she shrieked his name as she convulsed around his cock.
"Shit, Slim," she grunted before flipping them over and moving her hips on him.
"Fuck, Gina… shit, faster, Girl… squeeze me," he grunted and groaned as she rode him, pulling him deeper inside her with every stroke.
Their hips moved together, arching toward release and with a shout, he came, exploding inside her.
------------------------------------
Marshall was sitting at the kitchen table when the phone rang. "Yo, what up?"
"Hey, Dog. Watch any TV today?"
"What? Whachu talkin' about, Proof?"
"Bitch is on E! sayin' you'd fucked for seventeen hours."
"Huh?" Marshall asked his friend. "Seventeen *hours*?"
"Yeah- sorry, Man. I thought you'd be safe wit' her."
"With a *porn* star?" He practically laughed. "But don't sweat it, Man. She's a *porn* star, who's gonna take her seriously anyway?"
"Fair enough. See ya later at 54?"
"Yeah- in a couple hours."
Marshall hang up the phone and turned the TV on and flipped to E! There she was.
"Well- I won't be modest- he's a *very* passionate lover," she said. "We came several times. Fell asleep and then went a few more times."
"For seventeen hours?" The reporter asked.
<Actually,> he thought <it was more like *eighteen*.>
Marshall smirked as he shut the television off.
-----------------
The End.
Author: crazyevildru@yahoo.com
These stories are for entertainment purposes only. They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character. No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.