Sex and Violence in Hollywood (6 page)

“Okay, wait a second, wait a second,” he said as he grabbed her upper arms and lifted her. “Maybe, uh...I don’t know...” He turned off the shower. “Maybe we should step out of the shower and talk.”

“You don’t look like you wanna have a fuckin’ conversation, honey,” she said, smiling at his erection.

He turned off the shower, stepped around her—skin slid together like satin—opened the door and stepped out. He grabbed his towel and scrubbed his wet hair, then his body as he left the bathroom. He heard her moving around behind him as he opened a dresser drawer and poked around inside.

It was a messy drawer, like all the others. He could not find his new underwear. Now that there was a horny naked girl in his room, the only underwear he could find were the boxers he had bought at a science fiction convention, all covered with Japanese movie monsters. Godzilla, Rodan, Mothra, Ghidra, all over his underwear. He closed the drawer, opened another.

“I like your ass,” Rain said casually, getting closer. “It’s a happy ass.”

“Thank you,” Adam said. “You should’ve been here last week when it was really depressed. You could’ve cheered it up.” He found a pair of gray cotton boxers, put them on.

“Hey, you’re putting away the fuckin’ toys,” she said, beside him now. “Got a hot date, or something?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” He turned to find a shirt.

“Why do you talk like that?”

Adam stopped, turned to her. “Like...what?”

“Like Mr. Douglas on My Three Sons. Y’know, on TV Land? Like you got a long stick wrapped in silk shoved so far up your ass, it’s operating your head.”

Adam gave it some thought. “You mean...like a ventriloquist dummy?”

She went to him, put her arms around his waist and leaned on him. “No, I mean like Mr. Douglas on My Three Sons. And Mr. Douglas on Green Acres, too, come to think of it. Coupla fuckin’ hard-ons.”

“Are you saying I’m a hard-on?”

“You have a hard-on.” She laughed, then gnawed on his neck.

“But are you saying I am one?”

Her eyes flitted over the features of his face, over his hair. “Maybe a little uptight.”

“Well, however it seems to you, I’m not uptight.” He went to his closet. “I am kind of anxious to get ready for my date, though.” He put on a shirt, then jeans. “Um, in fact, you might want to put on some clothes, too.”

“I like being naked.”

“What if your mother walks in?”

Rain frowned and walked over to Adam, stood in front of him. “Why would she just walk into your bedroom?”

“She lives here, it’s her house, remember?” At the same time, he was thinking, Oh, shit, can she tell? Is there some kind of mother-daughter mind meld thing nobody told me about?

He tried combing his hair in the mirror, but she kept getting in his way, frowning, eyes moving slowly up and down his body.

“Have you been fucking my mom?” she asked.

Adam felt the question in his intestines. Rolled his eyes. “Of course not.”

“Well, don’t. She’s trouble.”

“You think?”

“She’s a cunt. I hate her guts. How about you? What’s your dad like?”

“My dad? He’s like waking up on Christmas morning with a case of explosive diarrhea and shingles all over your body.”

“He’s...huh?”

“He’s an asshole.”

“Yeah, she knows how to pick ’em. Shoulda met my last dad.” She slowly looked around at the things on the walls and shelves.

Adam sat on the edge of his bed to put on socks and sneakers. “Oh, that’s right. I heard about your dad. I’m really sorry about that.”

“About what?”

“The fire.”

“Oh, that.” She laughed. “You don’t have to be sorry about that.”

Certain he had misunderstood her, he said, “What?”

“Oops. Shouldn’ta said that, huh?” She smiled poutingly.

“What do you mean, I don’t have to be sorry about that?”

She giggled and pulled him with her as she flopped onto the mattress. Put an arm across his chest, ran fingers through his hair. “C’mon, let’s fuck,” she said.

“I’m not dressed for it.”

“So take ’em off, dammit.” She pulled at his shirt. “Why’d you put ’em on in the first fuckin’ place, anyway?” she asked, her voice suddenly loud and angry.

“Hey, hey, stop it, okay?” He pushed her hands away and sat up. “Are you on drugs, or something?”

“Just a little.” She sat up, threw herself onto Adam and pinned him to the mattress. “Want some?” she asked. Her mouth was on his before he could reply.

Adam’s lips experienced fresh new sensations as they were, for the first time ever, sucked open. His tongue was drawn out hard, its roots straining. Cheeks compressed, gums puckered. His lungs emptied as breath was sucked out of them, and he suspected teeth had shifted in his head. She ground herself against his erection while opening his jeans with her right hand wedged between them.

With a firm push, Adam got her off of him. Pulled his head back to peel their faces apart. The disengagement of their mouths sounded unearthly.

“You want some?” Rain asked.

“Some what?”

“Drugs. You were asking.”

“No, I don’t want any drugs. Don’t you watch Cops? You want to show up on Fox being hog-tied and thrown in the back seat of a patrol car?”

“What makes you think I’d have to be hog-tied?” Rain asked.

“You’re right. They’d probably taser you just to save time.”

“I’ve fucked a few cops. They were all so stuck on themselves. Kept wanting to hear how big their cocks were. Average or less, every one of them.”

“Was this a series of incidents?” Adam asked. “Or did you all meet at once?”

Rain lay on her back, propped up on her elbows, legs wide open. Her face was angular, sculpted. Hard. Her eyes, large and deep brown, were half-closed as they looked around the room. Delicate cheekbones and a perfectly straight nose hinted at a beauty somehow concealed, while the rest of her face remained guarded, closed up. A small cartoon mushroom-cloud tattoo was frozen in mid-explosion from the top of her left nipple.

“What, you mean was it a gangbang?” she asked. “So what if it was, huh?”

Uncomfortable, embarrassed, Adam tried to think of a way to cut down the fallout from his remark. “Then you, uh...you must have been very tired afterwards.”

“I’ll tell you what I was. Not in trouble with my dad, who never found out his little girl had been stripping in a pool hall and selling blow jobs in the storeroom. In exchange for the train, the cops fixed it for me. We all have ways of getting what we want, Mr. Douglas. Mine is sex. What’s yours?”

Adam found himself chuckling. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. My dad...he gets them small parts in his movies. The cops. In exchange for no speeding tickets.”

Rain shrugged a shoulder and cocked her head in a knowing, cynical way. “Hey. Whatever it takes, huh?”

He looked across the room at the U.S.S. Enterprise 1701 clock on top of his dresser. “I should move my butt.” As Adam stood, his jeans dropped. He didn’t even see Rain move. Suddenly on her knees in front of him, she pulled down his boxers. Ignorant of morals and good taste, deeply unconcerned with previous obligations, and thoroughly incapable of giving a single thought to practicality, Adam’s penis stood rigid and wet. The hot, liquid sheath of her mouth covered his erection and knocked his knees out from under him. He fell onto the bed with a loud, breathy, trembling moan.

Whatever she had done with her mouth while kissing him withered in comparison to the abilities she demonstrated on his erection. She sucked at the underside of his penis and made him press his head back hard into the mattress. She used her lips, tongue, teeth to devour him, drown him in pleasures that bordered on pain. Time disappeared, and Adam kept forgetting where he was. Entire trains of thought were sucked off their tracks and out of his mind.

He lifted his head and blinked his bleary eyes. Rain was on top of him. She seemed to hop onto his erection. Growled more as she moved on him frantically. It was not a noise that sounded like a growl. It was a growl.

Red-alert klaxons went off in Adam’s head. He was not wearing a condom. He tried to sit up as he stammered, “Hey, no, uh-uh, whoa—”

Rain slammed him back down, fingernails clawed his nipples. Adam cried out in pain when her nails dug in and a couple broke flesh.

“Where the fuck you think you’re goin’?” She spoke in the growl, sounded unsettlingly similar to the demon’s voice in The Exorcist.

Disturbed by the fact that he was not using protection, Adam tried to roll her off him. She suddenly clutched his throat with both hands and squeezed.

What the hell is she doing? Adam thought.

Rain appeared to be strangling him, and it seemed she had committed herself to the task. She moved faster on him, angry movements. Arms straight, elbows locked. Her nails dug into his neck on each side while her thumbs pressed hard on his trachea.

Adam’s face felt hot and puffy. A fire ignited at the closure of his throat and roared down into his lungs. He flailed his arms and kicked at first, then grabbed her wrists, loosened her hold on him almost enough to get a breath, but something threw him. Rain squeezed his cock with strong vaginal muscles, hard enough to make Adam cry out. If he were not being strangled.

Adam punched her in the side of the head and she let go of his throat, fell back, but not off of him. She bucked harder and harder, growling behind clenched teeth. It sounded like pain and rage and fear, all rolled into one dangerous sound.

Gasping for breath, coughing, Adam tried to sit up. His throat felt broken, but he could breathe again. Once up, he put his hands on Rain’s ribs, ready to throw her off. But he did not.

The entire time he was unable to breathe, Rain had been riding him like Debra Winger rode the mechanical bull in Urban Cowboy. He had felt every bit of it, even as his vision blurred and his lungs became molten lava. Now, still gulping air into his lungs, he was about to come.

Adam embraced her. Rain kissed him, growled down his throat, rattled his organs. Her nails clawed his back as she sucked on his neck, bit him hard.

Adam’s orgasm was, as far as he was concerned, amazing. But it was drowned out and swallowed up by the ferocity and trauma of Rain’s. She threw him back on the bed and writhed and bucked on him. Her short wet hair seemed to stand on end as she uttered a long, senseless stream of obscenities, spat them in the same scary growling voice. Then she howled.

“Shh-shh!” Adam put a hand over her mouth. She bit it. “Ow, Goddamnit, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Rain slowed down, slowly. The howling and clawing stopped. Finally, only their breathing remained. She smiled and rolled off him.

“Mmmm,” she purred, “you play nice, Big Brother.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Call me Big Brother.”

“Too creepy for ya?” She laughed.

He propped himself up on an elbow and touched her chin, turned her head toward him. “I’m really sorry about hitting you,” he said.

Rain pushed his hand away and sat up on the edge of the bed. “Hey, don’t apologize. Like I said, Mr. Douglas, you play nice. And we’re just down the hall from each other. Fuckin’ A, huh?” She tossed a smile over her shoulder.

Did she want me to hit her? Adam thought as he stood. He undressed quickly, went to the bathroom and showered again. Afterward, he went back into the bedroom to find his towel.

Rain browsed through his desk drawers. “You got any pot?” she asked.

“No,” he lied. “Are you, um, on the pill, by any chance?” He dried quickly, then began to dress again.

“Course I’m on the pill, Mr. Douglas. I look like the fuckin’ mommy type to you?”

“Do you have any, um...you know, diseases?”

“Had my tonsils taken out when I was eight, and I got chicken pox when I was ten, that’s about it. How about you?”

He ignored the question. “Could you please stop going through my drawers?”

She turned to him. “What would you hide from your little sister?”

Adam was becoming impatient. “And quit saying that,” he snapped. “We are not related.”

“Next time, you come to my room. That’s where all the goodies are.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Adam said. Even as he spoke, he knew it sounded harsh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that like it sounded, because that...well, what we just did was...pretty incredible. It’s just that...well, come on, be realistic. I mean, what if Peter Brady started fucking Jan Brady? You don’t think there would’ve been trouble? Alice would know immediately, of course, but the others would catch on. Next thing you know, they’ve gotta call Sam the butcher to pull Mr. Brady off a semi-conscious Peter and there’s blood all over the place.”

She stared at him open-mouthed, nose wrinkled. “What the fuck’re you talkin’ about?”

“I’m saying that what just happened here can’t happen again.” He sat on the bed again and quickly put on his shoes.

“But it happened, right?”

“Yes, but it’s not going to happen again.” He went to the full-length mirror beside his dresser.