Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Alphabet Challenge
“Brendon…” Ryan gasped my name as he took a long drag of the blunt we were passing between each other in the car. We were hotboxing the shit out of the car. It was fun. We used to do this a lot before the band split. Then he got addicted to various other drugs and we stopped. Well, there was also the fact that we stopped talking to each other altogether. But now, he was back to the Ryan I remembered, “What if… What if…” he looked at me, “What if we’re not real?” he asked, passing the joint back to me.
I put the joint between my lips and took a deep breath, taking every bit of smoke into my lungs and holding it there before blowing it out between my words, “Like… We don’t actually exist? Like we’re all in someone’s head?” I asked, handing it back to him. I leaned back in the seat with an idiotic smile plastered onto my face.
“Yeah…” he took a long drag and handed it back, “Like…” he spoke as smoke came fluttering out of his mouth like a ghost trying to escape the spirits of the purgatory, “Think about it, dude,” Ryan never says dude, so this just amuses me, “What if all of this is in my head… or yours? Like… What if we’re all just figments of someone’s imagination? We have no real purpose. And the only reason why we have intricate lives is because… It’s because as figments, we feel the need to have lives. So what if you and I were randomly thrown together because of someone’s imagination and we don’t actually have a past? Like… what if…” he looked over at me, “What if I kiss you…” he leaned over and kissed me on the lips.
I squeezed the joint between my two fingers for a good second or two before I rolled down the window and flicked it out. I rolled it back up and pushed him back against his seat and climbed on top of him. I kissed him back, roaming my hands up and down his torso.
When I pulled away, he traced the side of my face with his fingers, “Maybe you’re a figment of my imagination… Maybe I created you… Maybe I created you because I felt lonely…”
“Do I feel like a figment, Ryan?” I asked, pushing him back against the seat and kissing him passionately on the lips. Then I stopped and whispered just over his lips, “Does this feel unreal to you? Do I feel like something you just made up?”
“No,” he whispered, “But… If we’re unreal… Then maybe… Maybe finding that out means… Maybe finding out means that we’ll be gone tomorrow…”
My eyes widened. I had no idea why I was agreeing with him, but being stoned can do that to a person. So I nodded.
“One more night.”
“One last time to have sex.”
He nodded. I latched our lips together again as I let my hands go under his shirt. I pulled away to pull the shirt off over his head. I then moved down to kiss his neck. I moaned softly as I felt his hands travel down my torso and go under my shirt. He successfully pulled my shirt off too, throwing it into the back. I then hovered over him and unbuckled his pants. I pulled them off with his boxers and went back down to straddling his hips.
I felt his face go red as I kept kissing him. I didn’t care though. As I went back down to kissing his neck, he was gasping for breath, “Maybe… We should… do this in the—” he gasped as I bit down on his collarbone, “back.”
I pulled away and nodded. I climbed into the back and helped him get back there with me. He managed to get his pants off his ankles before he got back there with me. He pulled off his shoes and pushed me against the actual seat and started kissing me passionately on the lips. I wasn’t going to protest. I’d wanted this for a long time. Apparently, so had he.
His hands roamed down my bare torso to the waist of my jeans. He unbuckled them and pulled them off, followed by my briefs. He took off my shoes to get the jeans off more easily. He then climbed back on top of me and kept kissing me. It was all so sloppy, but I didn’t care. It didn’t seem as though he did either. He then pulled away and licked his hand. That was sexy. Note the sarcasm.
He then moved his hand down to his own hardened dick and slicked it up with the saliva. Okay, that was sexy. He then used his wet fingers to slip three inside me immediately. I whimpered in pain, but let him. I wasn’t expecting that. I honestly didn’t even think he’d be on top, period. But I guess you can’t win every battle.
He pumped them inside me until I gasped and moaned, arching my back. He’d found the spot. As soon as he realized that, he pulled his fingers out and immediately pushed himself in and I groaned in pleasure, arching my back. He kept going. Thrust, thrust, thrust. It was so sloppy and he even lost the hole a couple times, but I really did not give a shit.
My body soon started to match the thrusts with my hips. He then leaned down and started to kiss me on the lips. His hands were gripping tightly on my hips as they moved ever so gracefully at the same tempo as his own. He was getting close, I could feel it. But I wasn’t. One: he was sloppy. Two, my dick hadn’t even been touched. I’m pretty sure he realized that as he moved his hand down to my penis and he started to stroke. I moaned out, “Ryan,” as I arched my back more.
He kept going until I felt him fill me and I moaned as he rode out his orgasm, still stroking me until I came soon after. We relaxed and he pulled out. He fell on top of me, but I so was not complaining. It was nice that we were in a garage because I really didn’t want to leave this position. It was nice. I finally got what I wanted. What was so bad about that?
Morning came, however, just like it always does. He woke up and shoved me awake. I gasped when I saw him, but I remembered last night, as I’m sure he did too. He facepalmed, “Fucking existentialism,” he muttered, “This… was so bad.”
“You were stoned and horny. It happens,” I tried to sound nonchalant, even though it was killing me. He only had sex with me because he was sexually frustrated. He hadn’t gotten any in a while and I just happened to be there.
He looked at me and glared. He grabbed his shirt and put it on over his head. He climbed into the front seat and put on his underwear, jeans, and shoes. He then got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. I just stared up at the car ceiling. It was nice while it lasted…
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A/N: E FOR EXISTENTIALISM! Haha. Sorry it took so long for me to finally get E out. Eggs was in my head for the LONGEST time. I didn't want to do a story about eggs. That's lame. Then, all of a sudden, existentialism came to mind and BAM. This beautiful smutfest was created. I hope you enjoyed. Please rate and review. :)
I put the joint between my lips and took a deep breath, taking every bit of smoke into my lungs and holding it there before blowing it out between my words, “Like… We don’t actually exist? Like we’re all in someone’s head?” I asked, handing it back to him. I leaned back in the seat with an idiotic smile plastered onto my face.
“Yeah…” he took a long drag and handed it back, “Like…” he spoke as smoke came fluttering out of his mouth like a ghost trying to escape the spirits of the purgatory, “Think about it, dude,” Ryan never says dude, so this just amuses me, “What if all of this is in my head… or yours? Like… What if we’re all just figments of someone’s imagination? We have no real purpose. And the only reason why we have intricate lives is because… It’s because as figments, we feel the need to have lives. So what if you and I were randomly thrown together because of someone’s imagination and we don’t actually have a past? Like… what if…” he looked over at me, “What if I kiss you…” he leaned over and kissed me on the lips.
I squeezed the joint between my two fingers for a good second or two before I rolled down the window and flicked it out. I rolled it back up and pushed him back against his seat and climbed on top of him. I kissed him back, roaming my hands up and down his torso.
When I pulled away, he traced the side of my face with his fingers, “Maybe you’re a figment of my imagination… Maybe I created you… Maybe I created you because I felt lonely…”
“Do I feel like a figment, Ryan?” I asked, pushing him back against the seat and kissing him passionately on the lips. Then I stopped and whispered just over his lips, “Does this feel unreal to you? Do I feel like something you just made up?”
“No,” he whispered, “But… If we’re unreal… Then maybe… Maybe finding that out means… Maybe finding out means that we’ll be gone tomorrow…”
My eyes widened. I had no idea why I was agreeing with him, but being stoned can do that to a person. So I nodded.
“One more night.”
“One last time to have sex.”
He nodded. I latched our lips together again as I let my hands go under his shirt. I pulled away to pull the shirt off over his head. I then moved down to kiss his neck. I moaned softly as I felt his hands travel down my torso and go under my shirt. He successfully pulled my shirt off too, throwing it into the back. I then hovered over him and unbuckled his pants. I pulled them off with his boxers and went back down to straddling his hips.
I felt his face go red as I kept kissing him. I didn’t care though. As I went back down to kissing his neck, he was gasping for breath, “Maybe… We should… do this in the—” he gasped as I bit down on his collarbone, “back.”
I pulled away and nodded. I climbed into the back and helped him get back there with me. He managed to get his pants off his ankles before he got back there with me. He pulled off his shoes and pushed me against the actual seat and started kissing me passionately on the lips. I wasn’t going to protest. I’d wanted this for a long time. Apparently, so had he.
His hands roamed down my bare torso to the waist of my jeans. He unbuckled them and pulled them off, followed by my briefs. He took off my shoes to get the jeans off more easily. He then climbed back on top of me and kept kissing me. It was all so sloppy, but I didn’t care. It didn’t seem as though he did either. He then pulled away and licked his hand. That was sexy. Note the sarcasm.
He then moved his hand down to his own hardened dick and slicked it up with the saliva. Okay, that was sexy. He then used his wet fingers to slip three inside me immediately. I whimpered in pain, but let him. I wasn’t expecting that. I honestly didn’t even think he’d be on top, period. But I guess you can’t win every battle.
He pumped them inside me until I gasped and moaned, arching my back. He’d found the spot. As soon as he realized that, he pulled his fingers out and immediately pushed himself in and I groaned in pleasure, arching my back. He kept going. Thrust, thrust, thrust. It was so sloppy and he even lost the hole a couple times, but I really did not give a shit.
My body soon started to match the thrusts with my hips. He then leaned down and started to kiss me on the lips. His hands were gripping tightly on my hips as they moved ever so gracefully at the same tempo as his own. He was getting close, I could feel it. But I wasn’t. One: he was sloppy. Two, my dick hadn’t even been touched. I’m pretty sure he realized that as he moved his hand down to my penis and he started to stroke. I moaned out, “Ryan,” as I arched my back more.
He kept going until I felt him fill me and I moaned as he rode out his orgasm, still stroking me until I came soon after. We relaxed and he pulled out. He fell on top of me, but I so was not complaining. It was nice that we were in a garage because I really didn’t want to leave this position. It was nice. I finally got what I wanted. What was so bad about that?
Morning came, however, just like it always does. He woke up and shoved me awake. I gasped when I saw him, but I remembered last night, as I’m sure he did too. He facepalmed, “Fucking existentialism,” he muttered, “This… was so bad.”
“You were stoned and horny. It happens,” I tried to sound nonchalant, even though it was killing me. He only had sex with me because he was sexually frustrated. He hadn’t gotten any in a while and I just happened to be there.
He looked at me and glared. He grabbed his shirt and put it on over his head. He climbed into the front seat and put on his underwear, jeans, and shoes. He then got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. I just stared up at the car ceiling. It was nice while it lasted…
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A/N: E FOR EXISTENTIALISM! Haha. Sorry it took so long for me to finally get E out. Eggs was in my head for the LONGEST time. I didn't want to do a story about eggs. That's lame. Then, all of a sudden, existentialism came to mind and BAM. This beautiful smutfest was created. I hope you enjoyed. Please rate and review. :)
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