Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
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So I saw a prompt and wrote this in about 40 minutes. Haven't proof read it. I'm super tired and the idea of Frank as a drag queen is super hot. Enjoy...
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Gerard had heard about Frank, mostly through Mikey, but he dreaded the day they’d actually meet. He’d seen paintings, read poems, and heard thousands of anecdotes; he was famous around here. Everybody he slept with was in dramatically and uncontrollably love with him, and anyone he wouldn’t touch despised the guy. Although ‘guy’ was a bit of a stretch. Most of the paintings he’d seen depicted legs devoid of any hair, barred by wide fishnets as though behind a prison cell, untouchable. Or long, pointed red fingernails which were hopefully removable or else prepping would become a little bit of a problem. Maybe Frank never did the fucking. Maybe he always got fucked. And maybe he never needed to prep himself anymore.
You see, Frank Iero was a high class prostitute…and not just any. Sure, he had those luxurious heels and sheepskin carpets and rouged cheeks and a delicately dirty pout, all glamour on the surface until you scratch off the foundation layer and find the dirt and come underneath, but it all belonged to a man. Underneath those tiny skirts that bounced off his perfect ass was his no doubt equally as perfect dick.
Yet Gerard had never actually met Frank. Not until now. Not until the moment he was introduced to him at Mikey’s friend’s 21st birthday party.
Gerard was 25 by then, and Frank was only just 20, but age is so fucking irrelevant when you can see every detail of the skinny fingers balancing a poisonous cigarette between those red lips. There they were, right before Gerard, teasing him without even a glance in his direction.
And then Mikey introduced them, and everything changed.
“Frank, this is my brother. Gerard, meet Frank.”
Gerard had to stand up, of course. He forced himself up from the chair and as his body was dragged upwards so were his eyes. Frank was in a pair of red silk heels and thigh-high long black socks which dared to flash an inch of pale, virtuous flesh at the top before his skirt appeared. Sure enough, it was tiny, and plaited, and it bounced off that little ass when he turned around to shake Gerard’s hand. Then there was a tight white button-up shirt barely concealing Frank’s very noticeable nipples. Gerard’s breath hitched and his eyes treated him to Frank’s face. Chin-length, messy hair and beautiful, careful makeup. The glittery eyelashes perfect his easy image and made Gerard want to fuck him senseless without even asking Mikey to leave the room first.
“Hiya Gerard. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Frank’s tongue sprawled across the word ‘pleasure’ and his eyes were pinned to Gerard’s chest, perhaps watching for his heart rate to increase. Which it did.
“Hi. You too.” Gerard fumbled on his reply and grinned, subtly beautiful in comparison to the dazzling goddess before him. He turned away and walked to the table for a confidence boost in the form of a few vodka shots.
He turned around and Frank was there, behind him, hand on his hip which was jutted out precociously. “I don’t remember having you. Have I ever had you?”
The way Frank enunciated every letter was, although pretentious, a huge fucking turn-on. Gerard could almost hear his tongue twirling around the words.
“Had me?” Gerard muttered, fully aware of what Frank meant.
“You know. Had sex with you. I don’t think you’ve granted me with the honour of ruining your body, Gerard.” By this time Frank’s hand had made its way on to Gerard’s belt buckle, and was jerking him forward by his hips. The room was crowded, but the attention was almost at least 49% on Frank, so it’s not like his actions were going unnoticed. His little mouth twisted into a smirk as Gerard’s face flushed red, obviously not used to this kind of attention.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he whispered.
Gerard knew he shouldn’t give in, because it was always meaningless with Frank: he fucked and forgot. He tossed and told. But Gerard was a sucker for beauty, and Frank placed Gerard’s pale and sweaty palm onto Frank’s inner thigh, fingertips under the hem of the sock, and Gerard couldn’t say no.
“I…” His mind was literally in pieces. No sex in four years and then a drag queen suddenly messing around with your belt buckle leaves you a little speechless.
Frank chuckled low. “Come on, pretty. Come on.”
He gently cornered Gerard and the whole room watched with one jealous eye as he took his victim. Gerard’s hand was guided under Frank’s skirt and to rub against his growing cock under his thin lacy underwear, whilst Frank’s own hand – true to the legends, with long red fingernails – rubbed at Gerard’s under his jeans, through his black boxers. The first time their lips touched Gerard moaned into Frank’s easy mouth, who only opened wider to allow probing tongues and the occasional gentle lipbite. The tingling in Gerard’s stomach was almost too much and when Frank led him out of the room he felt as though he’d never make it any further than the hallway without fainting or something equally as ridiculous.
But before he knew it they were upstairs in somebody’s bed, and he was sprawled out on the bed watching Frank slowly twirl off his ridiculous underwear. It gave way to his heavy cock, which lifted the plaits of his skirt and drove Gerard fucking crazy, as did the faux fur coat Frank had brought up with him and discarded on a nearby chair. Fucking excessive. Fucking hot.
“Suck me.”
Gerard hadn’t expected that. But then again, there had to be something in this for Frank, right? Apart from night after night of worshippers and orgasms.
“Suck me or I’ll fucking whip you, Gerard.”
Gerard whimpered which quickly turned into a moan when Frank lifted his skirt and revealed his leaking dick. He kneeled up on the bed and took the tip into his mouth, swirling his tongue around slowly to taste the moaning, quivering angel in front of him. Frank tugged Gerard’s hand and placed them on his ass and slowly fucked his mouth, moving in and out at his own pace whilst Gerard just took and took and took. He pulled out with a cry and for a moment looked flustered and worn, but composed himself before Gerard noticed.
“Can’t come yet. Gotta make you come. Everywhere.”
Gerard’s eyes widened and his jeans strained as Frank crawled over on his hands and knees, skirt bouncing dangerously over his pale ass. He removed his shirt and bra – yes, bra - and fisted his cock gently, trying to calm himself down. Gradually, he worked off Gerard’s jeans and nosed at his dick through his boxers before pulling them down with his teeth and making sure he was up to his full size. When he was certain, Frank pulled on his white fur coat that was about ass length and lowered himself on to Gerard’s cock, which pushed into his small ass as far as possible.
Frank threw his head back and moaned, choked, gasped. Gerard was maybe the biggest he’d ever taken, and he could feel him leaking inside, and sometimes the sex with random guys was bad – sometimes it was good – and now it was going to be fucking incredible. Gerard was flushed and he rolled his hips slowly, astonished at the impossible tightness of Frank’s ass and desperate to feel him slide up and down on his hard dick. He reached out to pump Frank’s as he started moving, and his consistent ah ah ah noises were enough to ensure both of them of his satisfaction. Perhaps the whole party was ensured, too.
They leant down to kiss and Gerard could feel Frank’s coat all over him, could feel him surrounding him as well as his dick, and he moaned his name so desperately – so needily – that when Gerard’s cock found Frank’s prostate again he released into his victim’s hand first, a rare occurrence. Gerard’s own cock pulsated through Frank’s body as he exploded too, hot come dripping between them like a sticky reminder of what just happened.
Quick, sudden, brief. Frank jumped up and left his underwear on the floor, but pulled up his socks and stood there in his eccentric, expensive faux fur, grinning.
Gerard lay exposed and limp on the stranger’s bed, mind swimming with images of a worked up Frank Iero in a fur coat and miniskirt riding his cock.
He’d definitely be drawing that when he got home. Or perhaps painting it on a lifesize canvas.
So I saw a prompt and wrote this in about 40 minutes. Haven't proof read it. I'm super tired and the idea of Frank as a drag queen is super hot. Enjoy...
--------------
Gerard had heard about Frank, mostly through Mikey, but he dreaded the day they’d actually meet. He’d seen paintings, read poems, and heard thousands of anecdotes; he was famous around here. Everybody he slept with was in dramatically and uncontrollably love with him, and anyone he wouldn’t touch despised the guy. Although ‘guy’ was a bit of a stretch. Most of the paintings he’d seen depicted legs devoid of any hair, barred by wide fishnets as though behind a prison cell, untouchable. Or long, pointed red fingernails which were hopefully removable or else prepping would become a little bit of a problem. Maybe Frank never did the fucking. Maybe he always got fucked. And maybe he never needed to prep himself anymore.
You see, Frank Iero was a high class prostitute…and not just any. Sure, he had those luxurious heels and sheepskin carpets and rouged cheeks and a delicately dirty pout, all glamour on the surface until you scratch off the foundation layer and find the dirt and come underneath, but it all belonged to a man. Underneath those tiny skirts that bounced off his perfect ass was his no doubt equally as perfect dick.
Yet Gerard had never actually met Frank. Not until now. Not until the moment he was introduced to him at Mikey’s friend’s 21st birthday party.
Gerard was 25 by then, and Frank was only just 20, but age is so fucking irrelevant when you can see every detail of the skinny fingers balancing a poisonous cigarette between those red lips. There they were, right before Gerard, teasing him without even a glance in his direction.
And then Mikey introduced them, and everything changed.
“Frank, this is my brother. Gerard, meet Frank.”
Gerard had to stand up, of course. He forced himself up from the chair and as his body was dragged upwards so were his eyes. Frank was in a pair of red silk heels and thigh-high long black socks which dared to flash an inch of pale, virtuous flesh at the top before his skirt appeared. Sure enough, it was tiny, and plaited, and it bounced off that little ass when he turned around to shake Gerard’s hand. Then there was a tight white button-up shirt barely concealing Frank’s very noticeable nipples. Gerard’s breath hitched and his eyes treated him to Frank’s face. Chin-length, messy hair and beautiful, careful makeup. The glittery eyelashes perfect his easy image and made Gerard want to fuck him senseless without even asking Mikey to leave the room first.
“Hiya Gerard. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Frank’s tongue sprawled across the word ‘pleasure’ and his eyes were pinned to Gerard’s chest, perhaps watching for his heart rate to increase. Which it did.
“Hi. You too.” Gerard fumbled on his reply and grinned, subtly beautiful in comparison to the dazzling goddess before him. He turned away and walked to the table for a confidence boost in the form of a few vodka shots.
He turned around and Frank was there, behind him, hand on his hip which was jutted out precociously. “I don’t remember having you. Have I ever had you?”
The way Frank enunciated every letter was, although pretentious, a huge fucking turn-on. Gerard could almost hear his tongue twirling around the words.
“Had me?” Gerard muttered, fully aware of what Frank meant.
“You know. Had sex with you. I don’t think you’ve granted me with the honour of ruining your body, Gerard.” By this time Frank’s hand had made its way on to Gerard’s belt buckle, and was jerking him forward by his hips. The room was crowded, but the attention was almost at least 49% on Frank, so it’s not like his actions were going unnoticed. His little mouth twisted into a smirk as Gerard’s face flushed red, obviously not used to this kind of attention.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he whispered.
Gerard knew he shouldn’t give in, because it was always meaningless with Frank: he fucked and forgot. He tossed and told. But Gerard was a sucker for beauty, and Frank placed Gerard’s pale and sweaty palm onto Frank’s inner thigh, fingertips under the hem of the sock, and Gerard couldn’t say no.
“I…” His mind was literally in pieces. No sex in four years and then a drag queen suddenly messing around with your belt buckle leaves you a little speechless.
Frank chuckled low. “Come on, pretty. Come on.”
He gently cornered Gerard and the whole room watched with one jealous eye as he took his victim. Gerard’s hand was guided under Frank’s skirt and to rub against his growing cock under his thin lacy underwear, whilst Frank’s own hand – true to the legends, with long red fingernails – rubbed at Gerard’s under his jeans, through his black boxers. The first time their lips touched Gerard moaned into Frank’s easy mouth, who only opened wider to allow probing tongues and the occasional gentle lipbite. The tingling in Gerard’s stomach was almost too much and when Frank led him out of the room he felt as though he’d never make it any further than the hallway without fainting or something equally as ridiculous.
But before he knew it they were upstairs in somebody’s bed, and he was sprawled out on the bed watching Frank slowly twirl off his ridiculous underwear. It gave way to his heavy cock, which lifted the plaits of his skirt and drove Gerard fucking crazy, as did the faux fur coat Frank had brought up with him and discarded on a nearby chair. Fucking excessive. Fucking hot.
“Suck me.”
Gerard hadn’t expected that. But then again, there had to be something in this for Frank, right? Apart from night after night of worshippers and orgasms.
“Suck me or I’ll fucking whip you, Gerard.”
Gerard whimpered which quickly turned into a moan when Frank lifted his skirt and revealed his leaking dick. He kneeled up on the bed and took the tip into his mouth, swirling his tongue around slowly to taste the moaning, quivering angel in front of him. Frank tugged Gerard’s hand and placed them on his ass and slowly fucked his mouth, moving in and out at his own pace whilst Gerard just took and took and took. He pulled out with a cry and for a moment looked flustered and worn, but composed himself before Gerard noticed.
“Can’t come yet. Gotta make you come. Everywhere.”
Gerard’s eyes widened and his jeans strained as Frank crawled over on his hands and knees, skirt bouncing dangerously over his pale ass. He removed his shirt and bra – yes, bra - and fisted his cock gently, trying to calm himself down. Gradually, he worked off Gerard’s jeans and nosed at his dick through his boxers before pulling them down with his teeth and making sure he was up to his full size. When he was certain, Frank pulled on his white fur coat that was about ass length and lowered himself on to Gerard’s cock, which pushed into his small ass as far as possible.
Frank threw his head back and moaned, choked, gasped. Gerard was maybe the biggest he’d ever taken, and he could feel him leaking inside, and sometimes the sex with random guys was bad – sometimes it was good – and now it was going to be fucking incredible. Gerard was flushed and he rolled his hips slowly, astonished at the impossible tightness of Frank’s ass and desperate to feel him slide up and down on his hard dick. He reached out to pump Frank’s as he started moving, and his consistent ah ah ah noises were enough to ensure both of them of his satisfaction. Perhaps the whole party was ensured, too.
They leant down to kiss and Gerard could feel Frank’s coat all over him, could feel him surrounding him as well as his dick, and he moaned his name so desperately – so needily – that when Gerard’s cock found Frank’s prostate again he released into his victim’s hand first, a rare occurrence. Gerard’s own cock pulsated through Frank’s body as he exploded too, hot come dripping between them like a sticky reminder of what just happened.
Quick, sudden, brief. Frank jumped up and left his underwear on the floor, but pulled up his socks and stood there in his eccentric, expensive faux fur, grinning.
Gerard lay exposed and limp on the stranger’s bed, mind swimming with images of a worked up Frank Iero in a fur coat and miniskirt riding his cock.
He’d definitely be drawing that when he got home. Or perhaps painting it on a lifesize canvas.
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