Don't Wanna Try
Chapter 19
Marshall, originally, thought he’d never want another girlfriend, but the idea that she was his exclusively was more than appealing. It was a necessity.
“Why should I be upset?”
“I didn’t mean to assume things—”
“We’d eventually get around to labeling.”
“I’m sorry,” she replied.
“What for? For saying the truth?”
She looked at him warily. “The truth?”
“Well, what did you think you were? My fuck toy?”
For a second, she looked offended. “Yeah, I kind of did.”
“We were friends first. Lovers second. That’s what a girlfriend is.”
“Oh, thank god,” she said with relief and hugged him.
“Besides, that girl would have thought that with the way I came up to you anyway.”
“You sure you don’t mind?”
“Help me out. Tell me why I would mind the most beautiful woman being mine?”
“Marshall!”
“Truth hurts, huh?”
She laughed and gave him a kiss. “Do we have to stay?”
“I’m up for a few awards for 8 Mile. I think we’re supposed to.”
Vanessa sighed. “Fine.”
They seated themselves back into the audience and watched the different performances and awards being presented.
“The nominees for best musician in a film are…” resounded in the background.
She sensed his nervousness, and knew that this was one of the awards he was up for, and clasped his hand between her two hands. “You’ll get it,” she whispered.
The cameras panned towards them, and she saw herself on the large, six-foot monitors.
“And the winner is… Eminem!” the presenter boomed as the audience began clapping enthusiastically.
Marshall carefully got out of his seat and walked casually to the podium so he could accept the award and give a brief acceptance speech.
“I’d like to thank all the directors for making a dream into reality. The actors for bringing out the best in the film’s potential, and finally, the fans for making it all such a success. Peace!”
Vanessa smiled full of pride and joy for him. He was only half-smiling, strutting back down the aisle, but she knew that the award meant a great deal to him.
“Congrats,” she said as soon as he sat down.
“Thanks,” he replied and leaned towards her for a kiss; she didn’t disappoint him by turning away.
They returned to the hotel around two am, nearly exhausted. The awards’ after-party was still in full-swing, but it had also lost its appeal for those who weren’t into all-night partying.
“Thanks for taking me,” she said as she took his jacket and hung it up.
“Like I was going to take anyone else but my girl,” he teased.
“That is so weird.”
“Why?”
“I’m someone’s girlfriend.”
“You never been before?”
“No, not really… To be honest, I’ve never dated that much. Too busy with work and school…family.”
“Oh, yeah? So am I the first?”
“Pretty much,” she grinned.
“I like being first,” he assured her.
“Good,” she smiled. “Do people call you Eminem or Marshall?” she asked offhandedly.
“Both. It depends on where and who.”
“In general.”
“I get Eminem more often, I guess.”
“Is that weird?”
“I’ve gotten used to it. I prefer people I don’t know to call me Eminem. That’s who they know. That’s who they want to know. They don’t know Marshall Mathers from the Detroit projects.”
“Who do I know?” Vanessa asked as she approached him.
“Marshall Mathers.”
She beamed and kissed him with gratitude. “Good answer!”
He laughed, and began to undress, shedding his shirt and pants. “I’m so beat. What time do I gotta be up for tomorrow?”
“You’re lucky I was sure that we’d be out late. I didn’t schedule your first meeting until noon. A lunch meeting.”
“I have to wine and dine someone?”
“You get to sleep in; don’t argue.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“So, Marshall, I was thinking about showing you how…thankful I am for you taking me to the awards.”
“Oh, yeah?” he replied innocently.
He lay on against the headboard of the bed and drank in the sight of her advancing on him in only a thong; she was something, staring at him hungrily with a seductive smile curving her lips.
She placed her hands on the tops of his thighs, yanked his boxers down, and licked her lips in anticipation. He was watching her attentively, awaiting her next move—barely containing his urge to grab her and claim those wet, pale pink lips in a soul-searing kiss of fire.
The tip of her tongue darted out to taste his flavors, lave the beginning of his arousal. Slowly, she embraced his hardness within her small hand, squeezed tentatively, and locked gazes with him as she caressed him intimately.
It was painfully erotic as he felt the intensity of her look matched with the blush rising in her cheeks and the way her hand was tantalizing the heights of his desire. Marshall clenched his fists by his side as he was determined to let her do as she wanted, however slow she went. His eyes shut tight as her hot mouth encased his length; only after he held a better grasp on his control did he open his eyes, and nearly exploded in a disarray of stars and cosmic dust.
His eyes feasted upon the sight before him: her sunken cheeks, the sensation as her teeth teased him with their bluntness, the utter ecstasy it was to have her accept him to the hilt only to return to the beginning and let him sink within her once more. The constant sweep of her tongue against his hardness throttled his self-control, and he felt himself find the beginnings of his release.
She drank at him greedily, laving generously as she moaned throatily as she felt him explode within her mouth, the tangy flavors dancing sensuously against her tongue.
Marshall moaned as he met his point of absolute satisfaction. “Damn…”
With a devilish smile, she looked at him wickedly, “Yummy.”
She was his undoing as he snatched her up and laid her on top of his, feeling her bottom settle against his thighs. With a wink in his direction, she wiggled her hips against him, stirring his passions whilst doing so.
“You’re pretty naughty,” he pointed out.
“What else did you expect?” she teased.Author: zines@aol.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.