Guilt
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Guilt Is A Useless Emotion free porn video
The following story contains mentions of drug use and is sexual in
nature, featuring explicit terms that some may find objectionable. While
some members of the LGBTQ+ community accept and use these descriptions, I
am aware that some choose not to and may find them distasteful. No
offence is intended. In my defence I prefer to treat every character in
my story as different, with a unique personality, lifestyle, and language
that I feel reflects all aspects of the community. I hope you will
continue to read and come to love the characters who live in my head as
much as I do. ~ Gosunkugi
GUILT IS A USELESS EMOTION
The party was over. Jen sat on the cold step rubbing at her nose, she'd
done way too much coke and her sinuses felt like they were clogged with
cotton wool. Her head was too hot, perspiration flowing down her neck and
forehead from under her mane of magenta hair. It stung her eyes, making a
mess of her mascara and causing it to run down her cheeks in spider webs
of black tears.
The man she had been flirting with for most of the night had hung around
when the crowd had scattered, and was making an effort to look
inconspicuous, pecking at his phone like a bird at the kerbside. He was a
perfect specimen, dark skinned under a tight sweater and black jeans,
soft curly hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He'd said he was from
Tunisia, and he smelled of exotic body lotions. Yummy.
If he still fancied Jen in the state she was in though it would be a
minor miracle.
He kept stealing glances at her and she decided to chance her luck,
smiling at him the next time their eyes met. He held her gaze and smiled
in return. That settled it. When he walked over she got to her feet to
meet him, smoothing the creases out of her silver dress.
"I have ordered the taxi, can I take you home?" His voice was like warm
honey on toast, and her tummy did a cartwheel.
She was hoping that he'd have a place of his own, despairing at the
future horror show that was her overdraft. Fuck it, she could always do
an extra cam show during the week to make up for the expense. "I have a
place we can go, if you're interested?" She said.
He seemed to think about it for a moment, and she hoped for the sake of
her unrelenting libido he wouldn't change his mind.
He sat away from her in the back of the taxi, and she understood the
unspoken signals, keeping to her side of the seat. She texted her mum
that she wouldn't be home that night, so she was free to lock up and turn
the lights off. There was no response and Jen sighed at the prospect of
another awkward conversation-cum-lecture tomorrow. She popped a Viagra
with some water from her handbag, just in case clitasaurus-rex decided to
be a little shy.
At the hotel, Jen approached the desk to pay for a room, greeting the
nightshift receptionist warmly: "Hello, Clive sweetie."
The elderly man burst into a smile at the sight of her. "Jennifer, it's
been an age."
"Sure has. Busy night?" She was very fond of Clive. Their first few
interactions were tense and awkward, but soon they'd warmed to each
other. Clive eventually confessing his previously secret love of cross-
dressing, something he'd turned to for comfort after his wife had died.
It was all very touching, and Jen was always willing to lend a friendly
ear, as well as suggestions for flattering clothes.
They chatted for a few minutes while the Tunisian; his name she'd learned
was Karim; stood examining the pictures on the wall. Clich?d sepia prints
of the city with early 20th Century time wasters in cloth caps standing
outside pubs. Plus ?a change, plus c'est la m?me chose.
The room sorted, she gestured to get Karim's attention. "Shall we?"
In the lift to their floor she was able to get closer to him, pressing
into his shoulder, and he held her hand, stroking her fingers and giving
her hope that tonight wasn't going to be a total washout after all.
While he explored the bedroom, she ran the shower, stripping off her
dress and crown of purple curls. Her groin had begun to ache, helpfully
alerting her to the fact that it was time to untuck. She took off her
underwear and gaff, sighing in relief. Being naturally well-endowed, Jen
tended to rely on a little extra coverage for modesty's sake. After all
it wouldn't do to have every poor sod uncontrollably drooling over her
whenever she left the house.
Under the powerful jet of water she felt energised, the detritus of the
evening disappearing down the drain.
The glass door of the shower opened and Karim joined her. At first
holding her from behind under the spray, and then as his hands wandered
over her hips and stomach, she turned around to face him and melted into
his embrace.
"I was beginning to think I'd lost you," she said.
She pressed her now rigid strapless against his own erection, trailing a
hand through his luxurious chest hair and down, down his body until she
found his need for her.
He gently bit and sucked at her nipples and they stiffened under his
tongue. The pain as his teeth grazed against them was exquisite. He
lifted his mouth to hers, still kneading her breasts.
Jen was barely able to wrap her hand around them both, but the slick
water let her slide her fingers up and down, masturbating them as one.
"I want you," he said, and it was all she could do to not fall to her
knees right there.
Somehow they made it out of the bathroom, and still wet they collapsed
onto the bed, him on top of her. He kissed a line down her navel, his
breath cooling the moisture on her skin, making her shiver and break out
in gooseflesh. She was hairless down there, as smooth as silk and he
marvelled over her. She reflexively twitched her kegel muscles as he
kissed her tiny purse, making her girl-dick jump, and he nuzzled up her
whole length before taking all of her into his mouth.
She just about died there and then, feeling his beard rubbing against her
as his tongue traced the contours of her glans, and she was weak, all but
helpless under his sweet domination.
She took one of his hands, separating the fingers and directing them
between her legs, he let her guide him into the hidden areas there,
pressing up and into her pelvis, gently probing her inguinal tunnels.
That particular trick was looking like it was all new to him. Shame, she
really enjoyed muffing, but so many of her lovers thought it a little
strange at first. Taking one of his hands again she brought it to her
lips instead, sucking on his thumb greedily. He was more than
understanding of this and she lifted her hips off the bed, both to get
deeper inside his mouth and letting him explore between the soft cheeks
of her fanny.
He pressed his thumb along her perineum hard, massaging her prostate; oh
he was good at this; probing at her very core. Her legs on his shoulders
he slipped the digit inside her, cupping her and making her grip the
bedsheets. Reeeeally good.
He pulled his mouth off her, leaving a long, deliciously messy strand of
saliva and pre-cum connecting them, and she used the moment to tear open
a condom. If there was going to be an objection she overruled it by
untangling her legs and rolling the lubricated sheath over his manhood.
With her body relaxed and spread like the petals on a flower, Karim
entered her easily. Her yielding warmth; her cunt; moistened by her own
saliva and stretched by his thumb accepted his penis almost to the hilt
and she died again, growling in uncontrollable pleasure.
His strong hands on her hips held her down as he pulled out almost all
the way, leaving just the smallest part of himself inside her. She
desperately wanted to be filled again, almost whimpering with need.
He thrust into her, and suddenly her hands wanted to be everywhere at
once, they fluttered down his back, closing around the base of his spine,
gripping his muscled buns and pressing her fingers into his yielding
flesh, trying to push all of him inside herself.
Arching her back with every drive forward he made, she wondered how long
it would take her to cum. Sometimes it was a struggle, and while sex that
lasted hours could be heavenly in the right circumstances, it could also
be frustrating and sore. She needn't have worried though, soon feeling
the lovely, familiar waves radiating throughout her abdomen. As if
reading her mind, he picked up the pace, fucking her harder, hitting all
the right spots and making her cry out in pleasure.
She wanted the moment to last, squeezing her muscles to delay her orgasm
desperately, but it only furthered his own point of no return, and with a
final press of his cock so deep inside her she failed to hold on and
surrendered, gushing her cum onto her belly in thick rivulets.
She rubbed it into her skin, licking her fingers, and he shuddered as he
came too, making her turn to so much jelly as he pulled achingly slowly
out of her.
The two of them lay side by side, breathing heavily. She ran her hands
over his beautiful caramel skin lovingly and he hers, making her heart
flutter.
While he was in the bathroom, she was able to slip out onto the balcony
and light a cigarette. The night wind felt delicious over her naturally
short hair, still wet from the shower, and over her trembling naked body,
damp from their exertions.
She blew smoke into the air and stretched, her clit still hard from the
Viagra, and she stroked it in relief, hearing Karim leave the bathroom.
He joined her outside and wrapped her in his arms.
"Will you stay with me? Tonight?" he purred.
Well when he said it like that how could she possibly refuse?
o - o - o - o - o
Free of make-up and with her wig in the handbag, Jen walked through the
front door in as neutral a guise as she could manage. She still wore last
night's dress, but there was nothing to be done except take off her
heels.
"I'm home," she called and the yappy dog ran to meet her, bouncing at her
legs. She picked him up into her arms. "Heya mucky," she cooed
affectionately, plastering kisses over the dog's smelly fur and getting
licked enthusiastically in return.
"I'm in the kitchen, dear," answered her mother, and Jen steeled herself
for the inevitable.
The smell of Sunday morning cooking surrounded her, the smells of home,
so familiar. She hugged her mum and kissed the top of her head. There was
no comment about the outfit thankfully. As the dog circled her feet
excitedly Jen made some sweet, milky tea and sat at the kitchen table.
"I waited up for you. For a while anyway," her mother said.
"Oh, mum, I sent you a text, you really need to check that phone more
often."
Asking a parent to understand modern technology, something about teaching
fish to ride bicycles came to mind. Jen and her generation practically
lived their whole lives online, while their mums and dads still thought
it a passing fad akin to Space Invaders.
"Sorry if I worried you," Jen offered halfheartedly.
They chatted for a while about the typical, boring, goings-on of everyday
suburbia. Who was seeing who, who had died, or gone to prison, blah,
blah, blah.
"Have you been to see your dad?" her mum said, out of nowhere.
Jen rotated the mug back and forth in between her hands, and shook her
head.
"Not had the time, work has been running me ragged."
A plate of toast was placed in front of her and she nibbled at a piece
anxiously.
"You had the time to use the caravan and disappear for days at a time,"
her mum jabbed.
Well, she had her there. "Mum it was just for the weekend."
"And you're out all night. I worry so much. You can't keep burning the
candle at both ends." The verbal sparring continued, exhausting Jen.
"I know, mama, but I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." She
regretted it almost as soon as she said it.
She couldn't see her mother's face to read the expression, but she knew
the look off by heart, she'd seen it a hundred times. A spectrum of
emotion running from disappointment to denial, with a stop along the way
to squeeze in a few shades of self-righteousness. There was a lot she
kept from her mum, and with good reason, but it was impossible to hide
herself while living under the same roof. And she wouldn't hide, not
anymore, that's not who she was.
She also never failed to notice how her mother couldn't bring herself to
call her Jen or Jennifer. She didn't deadname, substituting instead
tender, effete epithets, like dear and sweetie. A habit Jen herself had
picked up.
"I'll pop over to see dad later today, I promise," Jen said.
That seemed to satisfy her for the time being, and her mother busied
herself at the sink.
"I heard something on Dr. Phil-"
"Oh, mum please don't."
She continued without seeming to even hear the protest, "he said that
breaking other people is a lot easier than just fixing yourself."
Jen silently wished for death to take her.
"I think it would be a good idea if you saw someone." Her mother was full
of surprises today.
Jen wasn't buying it. "I see people all the time."
"You know what I mean, smarty pants."
"Mam. I don't need counselling. Alright?" She stood to end the
conversation abruptly. At six-feet-tall she towered over her mother, she
didn't mean to appear intimidating so lowered her voice: "I'm sorry, I
didn't mean to shout at you."
Her mother clutched a tea towel, squeezing it tightly between her fists.
"I-I just don't want to lose you too. I can see it happening and I feel
so helpless."
Jen knew in her heart this wasn't about drugs. The real meaning was clear
and it struck deep. She hugged her mother tightly and left the kitchen,
shaking in anger.
With the drama over (for now), she entered the inner sanctuary of her
bedroom and put on the CD of Tona Brown to try and relax. The only sign
that her mother had been in here were the Progynova bottles out of
alignment and a woollen comforter over her red bedsheets. Her make-up
hadn't been touched at all.
She opened the make-up box and lifted out the tray to get at the powder
compact amongst the other odds and ends. She flipped the lid of the
plastic clamshell, taking out the small baggie.
As usual the morning after sex, she felt so used and strung out. She
craved a constant endorphin high because this comedown was a dreadful
bore. Jen slipped out of her dress and bought it to her nose, seeking the
comforting scent of Karim. She wondered if she would ever see him again.
She hoped so.
She did a line off the back of a CD case, then another, feeling better.
Collapsing on the bed she wrapped herself in the comforter and tried to
lose herself in the combination of music and Twitter, eventually giving
up and tossing the phone aside in frustration. The world was shit and
shit and more shit, and she was so tired.
"Well sweetie, what do you want to do today?" she asked the picture on
the wall.
The smiling image of Miss Piggy stared back at her. No answer.
The icon to the Muppet was just part of a larger shrine. On the back of
the door was a poster of Madam Deal, the Dragon Lady, by the artist
Milton Caniff. She wasn't normally into comic books, but accompanying her
friend Ade to Forbidden Planet, the shop catering to geeks who subsisted
solely on diets of Funko Pops and Superman monthlies one afternoon she'd
seen the poster and was completely floored, she'd had to have it.
Ade once jokingly called her Desire of the Endless, and Jen didn't get
the reference until she was lent a copy of one of The Sandman comic
collections. For a moment she'd thought that the artist had drawn her,
captured Jen's likeness without her knowing. At the back of the book was
a pin-up of Desire and Jen would find herself staring at it for hours.
How was it possible to know her so well? The sex?shifting being with
perfect cheekbones and an acid tongue would stare back, making her want
to crawl into the page itself to be closer to her.
Silk nets hung from the ceiling in pale blue and pink. A large collage
dominated one of the walls, featuring her muses: Elvira, Hedy Lamarr,
Elizabeth Taylor, Talulah Bankhead, Louise Brooks, Natalie Wynn, and a
dozen others, goddesses every one.
Her phone pinged, a message from her friend Adrienne. She was venting
about something. Jen thought about ignoring it, not feeling able to deal
with other people's problems right now. She wanted to be selfish, surely
she was allowed.
Giving in she read the message. Ade's housemate had done a runner. She
thought about Steve and her heart sank, chastising herself for not
reacting sooner. Thankfully though it was the other one. Jen had never
met him, but heard some bullshit from her friend, subtle digs and jibes.
She was glad to hear he was gone, but it left Ade in a difficult
situation rent-wise.
She offered as much emotional support as she was able, and it gave her
the impetus to push herself out of bed and get on with the rest of the
day.
o - o - o - o - o
The sound of Bob Dylan drifted from the shop front and out onto the
street, causing Jen to roll her eyes. How they ever thought to attract
customers with a guy who gargled marbles for a living was beyond her. She
entered the store to the jingling of a bell and saw Simone working the
counter. As she finished serving some random hipster, Jen greeted her
warmly.
"Darling, I can't believe they got you to come in on a Sunday. You must
be mental."
"Hey Jen! Some of us haven't got sugar daddies to rely on you know, we
have to actually work for a living. Besides, time and a half."
Simone was a no-nonsense butch Bristolian, with beautiful dark skin and
dreadlocks that fell to her shoulders. Today she wore a delightful septum
piercing that together with her eyebrow and labret jewellery made her
look positively fearsome, but nothing could be further from the truth,
she was a teddy bear. The two of them didn't always see eye to eye, but
there was no one Jen trusted more.
"Who's responsible for this crime against music?" Jen waved at the air.
"Oh, don't ask. Prick's got a new album out, higher ups insisted we play
it to encourage interest."
"Encourage defenestration more like."
When the song mercifully finished, Simone changed the CD. "I've got
something you might like though."
She put on an album by an artist Jen hadn't heard of called Perfume
Genius.
"Oh how wonderfully depressing, I love it."
Simone passed a copy across the counter with a wink, and Jen slipped it
into her handbag.
"What are you up to later?" She asked Simone.
"Treating you to lunch? You look like you need it."
"You have no idea." Jen didn't want to sour the mood by sobbing about her
mother in the middle of the shop.
"Rough night?"
"Mm, no, the night was delectable." She thought about Karim again and
almost swooned. "It's the morning after that's the sasquatch's arsehole."
"Cute. Have you tried not getting annihilated every time?"
She'd met Simone many years ago at a warehouse rave. Some meathead with
more tattoos than brain cells was giving her a hard time until Jen had
stepped in, forcing him to focus his attention on her instead. She ended
up kicking him so hard in the testicles she broke a shoe. She hoped he
still felt it when he thought of her.
In the nearby pub that had succumbed to the inevitable chain takeover and
become a Wetherspoons, they sat in a booth. Jen was wearing her
sunglasses still, her brain felt like the floor of a mosh pit at a death
metal concert.
Simone shook her head: "You need to get your shit together, girl."
"Oh don't you start."
"This is what I'm talking about right here." She swirled her finger at
the glass in front of Jen.
"It's just gin, don't get your knickers in a bunch."
"Jen. It's a quarter past eleven."
"Hair of the dog? Besides, it's Sunday."
Simone was right of course, but Jen was not about to give her the
satisfaction.
"Okay, so what else have you got planned today?" Simone badgered.
Jen thought about it. "Nothing. Vegetate in front of the TV. Sunday
lunch, Wine, blog, wank, cry, sleep?"
"Sounds like a plan. No more drugs though right?"
"Ooh, you're so pretty when you nag, mummy."
"You love it."
That reminded her of something. "Speaking of. Mum wanted me to pop over
and see my dad."
"And? Are you going to?"
"Darling I'd rather fellate a walrus."
Simone seemed to consider it for a minute, downing her glass of Pepsi and
standing up. "Come on. Let's go."
"What? Where are we going?"
"Up you get. Let's get it done."
Jen let herself be dragged from the pub. If she could she would have
behaved like one of those dogs on a viral video, flopping to the ground
while resisting the owner's lead. Unfortunately for her that wouldn't
stop Simone, and she would have been unceremoniously pulled along the
dirty floor by her arm, potentially risking some heavy carpet burns. So
she went willingly, albeit still protesting in typical Jen fashion.
"I swear, if you take me to the zoo I'll never speak to you again."
o - o - o - o - o
"Hi dad. Sorry it's been a while."
She put the flowers next to the headstone and took off her sunglasses to
wipe her eyes.
Sitting on the grass in front of the grave she leaned back on her hands
and looked up at the looming clouds. It was going to rain soon, and about
time. The last few weeks had seen an unbroken run of warm weather that
left her feeling she'd run a marathon every time she left the house.
"I wish you were here, daddy. I miss you."
Her dad had been the one to give her the courage to begin her transition.
Her and mum had been close once, but at some point in her childhood it
was as if a string had been cut, umbilical or apron, call it what you
will. Kisses goodnight had ceased, tenderness had been replaced with
criticisms and demands. She'd wanted nothing more than to talk to her
mother, but didn't have the words. So she'd turned to her dad during a
time when she'd begun to accept that she was radically different from the
other boys at school, and to his credit, with wonderful, unfathomable
love and understanding, he'd welcomed her transformation with open arms.
Her mum and dad had split soon afterwards, and uncomfortable truths had
come to light, making her realise for the first time the position her
mother had been placed in. D.I.V.O.R.C.E. The news that her darling
father was no saint was related to her by her mum, who finally found her
voice, and never ceased in telling Jen tales of his infidelity.
She'd spent her teenage years drifting between the two of them, her
father when she needed to bring her femininity to the forefront, to be
free, to be Jen, but she always returned to her mother, who welcomed her
back despite her appearing to turn into a stranger in front of her eyes.
When cancer had taken him shortly after her sixteenth birthday, the
bottom dropped out of her world. She had used the grief and turned it
outwards, externalised it and threw herself full time into living as who
she wanted to be, her mother be damned.
She only hoped now that wherever he was he was proud of her and who she
had become. She prayed for the strength to do what came next.
As Jen stood up and brushed herself off, Simone came over to put an arm
around her.
"How you doing, kiddo?"
"Getting there. Thanks for making me do this."
o - o - o - o - o
Simone dropped her off in town, and as if on cue it started raining. She
walked the empty drizzled Sunday streets in a daze.
The man popped out of the doorway ahead of her, making her jump.
"Ali! What the fuck? You scared the hell out of me."
He smiled his reptile smile, all teeth. "Sorry, baby girl. Hey I got the
goods, you flush?"
She wasn't surprised to learn what he wanted. "Not today, Ali. Maybe not
for a while. I'm knocking it on the head."
He sidled over to her, getting much too close for her liking. "Aw come
on, Jen. I know you like to dance. Can't have a party without the
favours, right?"
He was already pulling wraps out of his pocket. At the sight of them she
almost caved. There was something so ironically pure in that little
bindle of powder, and she needed a bump so bad.
Simone was in her head, her mum was in her head. She wanted her dad to be
there too, but he was gone. She delved deeper and found something else: A
stubborn, hard core, galvanised by years of struggle. She found the power
in that and backed up a step, squaring her shoulders.
"I'm good," she said, and meant it.
His face was frozen in place, a rictus of surprise and anger.
"Ey now, look at you. Growing a pair."
His gross attempt at humour only cemented it, and she saw him for what he
was, a predator.
"Got bills to pay, same as you. How's it going to look when my best
customer leaves me in the lurch, eh?" He made to put a hand on her.
"Ali, I can't even bring myself to give a fuck. Please move."
She already had her own hand in her bag, and tightened it reflexively
around the small canister of mace. His eyes flicked down and he stopped
in his tracks.
He sucked his teeth. "You a bitch, you know that?"
Jen smiled. "That's me. Queen bitch. Goodbye, Ali."
She pushed past him and he let her go. Yelling out: "See you around,
babydoll."
Not bloody likely, she thought.
By the time she was around the corner she was moving faster, not quite
running, but making good distance. She stepped into a nearby shop as the
rain came down harder.
She bought cigarettes, bottled water, and a cheap but cute pale blue
umbrella with kittens on, and stepped back out into the street, fully
armed for whatever the city could throw at her.
Arriving home she headed straight to the kitchen without hesitating.
"Mum, I'm moving out."
Sitting at the table again she forced her mother to turn and confront her
directly. She expected her to look upset, but it was much worse.
This had been a long time coming. Jen had used the excuse of the rent-
free house and her mother's presence as a safety net, but now saw it as
only confining her, she needed to grow.
"I need my own place."
Her mum sat and squeezed her hand tightly. "Jen, please, you don't have
to leave."
It almost broke her. She held it in and tried a shaky smile, relieved
when it didn't feel wrong on her face. "Mum, I love you, but it's time."
She tried to talk Jen out of it, offering everything she could, to be
more understanding, to stop suggesting therapy, but it was futile, Jen
had made up her mind.
"But where will you go?" her mother asked, finally accepting the
inexorable.
"Not far. I'll always be around. I promise."
She held her mother for the longest time, and when the tears threatened
to come again she let them fall.
In her room, as she weighed up her various possessions and took stock,
she rang the number on her phone and waited for the person on the other
end to answer.
The voice was welcoming and sounded happy to hear from her. "Hi, Jen.
What's up, girl?"
"Ade, darling. Do you still have that room available?"
Liesl
- 14.01.2023
- 9
- 0
