#markpellegrinosex

[scarecrowandmrking]

All That Is And Will Never Be (Mark Pellegrino/OC)

 I took another sip of my wine and glared in ever increasing fury at the computer screen. It was two in the morning and even though I knew I had to get up early to make it out to the set on time, I just couldn’t end the argument and let HIM win.  I could just imagine his wolfish smile off somewhere in LA as he realized that, for once in our twitter war of the past two years that he had finally shut me up on something. No way would I give him that kind of satisfaction.

 If you actually thought with reason and not the err of rampant emotionalism, you would see what I’m talking about, he typed.

 If you actually thought with care and not that stuffy headed Rand nonsense, you would see what I’m talking about, I wrote back.

 Tell me where Rand went wrong.

 Tell me where she didn’t?

 Did you read any of the books we discussed?

 Did you read any of mine?

 There was a long pause before he wrote back, I really don’t consider Art Of Being An Asshole a useful political tome.

 WHY? I asked him. You read Rand.

 I closed the laptop with a grin. I could just see him sitting there stewing over that one for a while. Good.  I had met the actor Mark Pellegrino many years ago when he was playing Jedikiah Price in The Tomorrow People and I was on a sister show on the CW. I had thought him rather imposing and remote. He had given me one of those tiny, barely there smiles I had seen in so many photos of him here and there.  I had found his height and build both equally imposing and erotic, brushing up against him in an elevator going up to the place where the photo ops were being taken.  He hadn’t said a word, but that quirky smile had stayed with me for a while. And I had to admit that later that night I did indulge in some vigorous hand under the covers fun at his imaginary expense.

 But these days the infatuation had turned to fury as Mark and I had met each other again on social media. It had all started off as an angry exchange on a forum about social programs and had spiraled into an ongoing series of attacks on one another’s threads. I never knew when he might show up and vice versa. Though we had taken to fighting on DM after it became apparent that people had started to romanticize our beefs, even going so far as to post sexual fics of us online.  Mark found them slightly annoying. I enjoyed reading a few before bed sometimes. Having met the man in person, I could at least attest to the fact that he was quite a sexy creature, though taller and more roguish and infuriating than he needed to be.

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 I slammed the script down on Mel’s desk.

 “NO. NO. NO.”

 Mel Aberman, producer of The Runaways, the show where I starred as a morally ambiguous leader of a government organization out to erase the living subjects of a failed experiment, just continued to stare at me with an annoyed but resigned look on his face. We had joked with one another about this very subject on more than one occasion. But I never thought in a million years that he would actually do it.

 “Look, you should see how popular this guy is,” Mel tells me while typing away on his keyboard. He pointed to some things on Twitter I could have cared less about at that very moment. “You should see the viewership when he did the Rubin Report. People love this guy. Besides, with our ratings lately….”

 My face immediately grew hot and red. There it was. Should have known that he would bring up the downturn in numbers for our show as of late to throw in my face.

 “Look, I’m not saying you have to fall in love with this guy and have his babies or anything. Just play nice. You know, I worked with him a little on Number 23. Not a bad guy, once you get to know him.”

 I rolled my eyes as I turned to stomp from the room, making sure to slam the door behind me for good measure. There was a loud thump as I collided with a dark pea coat, the soft fabric brushing against my cheek. My head shot up and I was face to face with Mark Pellegrino, my old nemesis and the person I had spent many a night hollering at all alone in my bedroom with my laptop in my lap.  He wasn’t at all what I had pictured, wearing a black beanie and a pair of clear glasses. But there was no mistaking those twinkling, devilish eyes of his. Like he was enjoying his own private joke that you would never be a part of.

 “Oh,” he said, his smile widening. But I noticed, as I had before, that his smiles were never the wide, open kind as much as a tiny curve of his lips that one could never feel quite sure about the intentions of.  “We meet at last.”

 “Don’t get too use to it,” I told him. “I’ll probably kill you by episode three.”

 He tilted his head, considering me for a moment. “Me or my character?”

 I shouldered my way past his as best I could considering moving him is a lot like trying to dislodge a small tree. “Both.”

When I made it to my car out in the lot I discovered that someone had placed a copy of The Art Of Being An Asshole on my hood.

 “Asshole,” I hissed, my mind already working out just what level of revenge Mel would let me get away with on set.

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 The first couple of scenes I did with Mark made it quite obvious to everyone on set, and the viewing public, that at least our apparent rampant dislike for each other equaled a lot of tension on screen. Which translated into a spike in the ratings. I disliked him, strongly, and when I said certain likes about what a terrible egomaniac I thought he was, it was quite genuine. And when he told me that I was a snobby stick in the mud that needed to lighten up and trust somebody, he was pretty damn convincing about it. But there were also times when our characters did things like grab an arm or brush up against one another that left me pretty shaken up.  And it angered me to feel anything for someone that was nothing but a gigantic pain in my ass most of the time these days.

 And so we worked ourselves through most of the season avoiding each other as much as possible for two actors who were always rubbing on one another on screen.  But at night we would return to our favorite hobby of tormenting the hell out of one another. The barbs were more personal now, the privacy of DM making us bolder about going at it than if we were being watched by the fans. I wasn’t sure at the end of it all if I wanted to jerk myself off or cry after spending most of the day and night around the guy. Sometimes I did both.

 The episode I was dreading the most was episode twelves, All That Is And Will Never Be, where Mark and I have our first kiss after a fight in my character’s office. I stood off to the side of the office set as various crew worked their way around getting things ready. Today would be the kissing scene. Tomorrow the love scene. I had only done two on this show before, both with an actor I had known fairly well. It had been strange and not at all sexy to be doing something so intimate with so many people watching you. I glanced over to where Mark sat on the other side of the room, legs crossed with three books in his lap. Didn’t appear to be too worried about the whole thing from what I could tell.

 When the time came I made my way around the big desk and sat down to look at my character’s computer, giving the impression that I was deep in a series of reports.

 Mark’s character, Agent Charles Rickman, comes in a minute later and slams his palms down upon the desk with a sound so deafening I nearly topple out of my chair. Whoa! Not in the script. The fear and anxiety I feel when I glance up at his enraged face is pretty damn real.

 “I saw the tapes!” Charles/Mark hollers, referring to my character being a double agent and letting the teen mutants escape the facility. “I know what you did. And I’m going to make damn sure you tell me everything you know.”

 He runs around the desk and grabs me by the arms, pulling me towards the door. His grip is tight on my arm and I struggle for a few seconds before going into agent mode and punching him hard in the face. I tried not to hurt him, this was acting after all, but I may have kicked him in the leg...Just a little. What followed was a series of kicks and punches, all lightening fast and what we had been practicing for the past week, Mark was a boxer in real life so it can be kind of intimidating when his fist gets near your face. But I always knew he would pull back at the last second. No worries there.

 But I was worried about the kiss, though. Halfway through a punch Mark pulls me in and presses his lips firmly to mine. I wasn’t expecting his lips to be so soft or his tongue to make its way into my mouth. It was a hungry open mouthed kiss and I felt a searing heat in the pit of my stomach. So this is what it felt like to be pressed up against him, his tongue playing with mine and his hand tangled in my hair. I moaned, wrapping one leg around him before I knew what I was doing. He swept one arm across the table and everything went to the floor. And then he was on top of me, both my legs holding him against me like a vice. I wanted him to rub against me until I came. I wanted…..

 “CUT!” I heard someone yell somewhere off in the background. Mark was off of me in a second, turning around and walking off somewhere in the crowd. I just layed there, trying to get my breath and figure out what the hell had just happened. My pussy was dripping wet and cried out for a vigorous fucking. And I realized that what I wanted was for Mark to give me one. I shook my head, cursing myself for letting things get this far. I just needed more self control. He was an actor. This was a role for him. A job. And I was the chick he had been paired up with that he couldn’t stand. Nothing more.

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 Mark was absent that night on Twitter and I wondered if maybe our make out session had gotten to him a little more than I thought it had. But when I got to the set the next day he was the same old Mark as usual, smiling that secretive half smile at the crew and returning to his studies of politics or whatever it was he was reading these days. He noticed me looking his way and gave me a little wave. I gave him the finger back.

 The next scene takes place in my character’s apartment after they leave the office building. It just starts out with us making out right as we get through the door and it moves along into the bedroom. No real nudity, wasn’t that kind of show. But I would take my top off and only Mark and the set would know I was wearing skin colored pasties to cover my nipples. Sorry, people. Like I said, sex scenes are not as romantic as you think they are.

 When the scene started I was once again thrown into a hot kiss with Mark, only this time things seemed different from before. His body moved against mine in a rougher, more desperate kind of way. His mouth started to nip at mine, at one point sucking on my lower lip in a way that made me moan against him and my pussy wetter than it already was. He lifted me up by my hips and carried me into the room, heading right for the bedroom without stopping on the couch as the script had said. Nobody stopped us though, guess the kissing and clawing looked too good to get in the middle of.

 Mark flung me down on the bed, pulling away for a second to loosen his tie and throw it off, something that my lust fueled mind found terribly sexy at that moment. He got down on the bed beside me, as the script had directed and I quickly moved to straddle him, tearing off my blouse in the process. His eyes were dark and unreadable, but his hands moved up and down my side  with a tenderness I hadn’t been expecting after the frenzied love making just moments before. I leaned my face down to kiss him, but he moved my head to the side to place open mouthed kisses along my neck, tongue darting out to skillfully lap at the most sensitive parts of skin. I moaned, grinding my pussy against him. Hard.

 “You need this. You’ve always needed this. Only me. Only me,” he whispered in my ear.

 I shuddered. Not in the script. I could see the dude liked to ad lib. I pushed it all out of my mind as I leaned back and rocked against him, the panties I was wearing and the pants he was wearing not doing much to keep cock and pussy from contact. He had somehow adjusted himself to where his cock was laying against his stomach and I rubbed the head of his dick between my thinly veiled labia. It was all like something two teens would do. And it felt fucking fantastic.

  I leaned my head back as I felt myself coming upon his cock. I didn’t care about the camera on my face, capturing an O face that was actually real. For a second I also forgot about Mark, lost in that magical place a good damn orgasm can take you too. I collapsed onto Mark and he kisses me several times on the forehead. I didn’t remember till later that at that point the director had already yelled cut so Mark had not done it because it was part of the scene.

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   The first thing I did when I got out of there was run back to my trailer and fling myself down on my bed. I just needed to be alone for a while. I had had an actual fucking orgasm. On set. On top of another actor and I felt a lot of mixed up shit about it. Did he know that I had come? What would that be like seeing the dude on set later? Damn. Just. Damn. I didn’t want to think about all that right now. I wanted to think about my pussy, which was still wet and begging for more attention. With a sigh, I started to rub myself through my panties. I didn’t want to reach inside just yet. There needed to be a build up where I wanted to imagine it was Mark’s cock against me through the fabric. His hard, swollen cock I wanted to ride until he filled my pussy full of come.

 A knock at the trailer door pulled me away from my fantasies with a start and I lay there cursing for a moment before getting to my feet to answer it. I expected to find my assistant or someone from the crew telling me that the director wanted me to come back to discuss the scene we had shot. I was shocked to see Mark standing there, his expression unreadable. I glanced over his shoulder but didn’t see anyone looking our way.

 “May I come in.” he asked,

 I stepped back, trying to think of why he would feel the need to talk to me in private. We didn’t really have that kind of thing going. Just social media squabbling and sneaking around each other on set.

 Mark wrapped his arms around me and pushed me back until my back was up against the trailer’s refrigerator. There was a smile on his face that i hadn’t seen him use before. I imagined it was his real smile, a wide and gentle kind of thing that lit up his whole face and made me feel butterflies in the pit of my stomach. He leaned down, kissing me on the nose.

 “Are you okay after all that,” he asked me.

 “Are you checking up on me,” I shot back, still thrown a little off balance that he was here, holding me as if we had been lovers for a long time. I still hadn’t got use to the feeling of his body pressed against mine yet. And, before I could stop myself, I became aware that i was rubbing myself against him in a fair imitation of what we had done before.

 “Someone has to. When was the last time you trusted anybody? Really trusted somebody.”

 “Not any of your business,” I told him, but my arms were still wrapped around him. I didn’t want him to leave. Nothing made much sense to me just then, but I did see that part clearly.

 “I want to be that person. You just have to let me in.”

 Mark kissed me again. But this time there was a slow seduction to his movements and every once in a while he would stop and stare into my eyes as if asking if what he was doing was alright with me. I felt emboldened by his gentleness, letting my hands run through his hair and over his body beneath his white button up shirt. I pushed against his chest and moved us both towards the bedroom in back, I wanted to get him in bed as fast as I could. And I made sure we ditched our clothes along the way, too.

 “You're so beautiful,” Mark tells me, kissing his way along my naked skin. I fall back upon the bed and he spreads my legs, leaning his tall frame down to lick and suck on my wet pussy. I cried out, arching my back and digging my nails into his soft blond hair. I moaned his name as he worked on my swollen clit with his clever tongue, bringing me to an intense peak under his mouth in a short period of time.

 “I need you,” I told him, urging him to get on top of me. I wanted to feel him ride my pussy and make me feel as good as he had made me feel with his mouth.

 Mark followed me up further on the bed, smiling when I held my legs open for him and moaned impatiently. He plunged his tongue into my mouth at the same time he thrust himself inside of me. My body went rigid for a minute as the feeling of being stretched out and filled enveloped me a sensation that was somewhere between pleasure and pain. Then it was replaced with sheer ecstasy as he began to move inside of me, rocking against me in steady but ever quickening thrusts. He kissed my neck, my face and chest, moaning my name like some sort of mantra. His fingers gently removed my nipple coverings so he could suck on each nipple in turn. I smiled, biting my lower lip as I felt my second orgasm coming from somewhere deep inside of me. I it had ever been this good for me before with a lover, I couldn’t remember it. This felt like something new to me. As if I was experiencing sex for the first time.

 “Fuck, yeah,” I heard Mark moan over me, his eyes were partly closed and his head was back a little, lost in the feeling of his impending orgasm. Looking at how beautiful and unguarded he looked in that moment, the calm and confident man I was use to replaced by this animalistic being consumed by his own sensations, pushed me over the edge. I bit him hard on the shoulder as I lost myself in the same explosion of pleasure that was consuming him, The sensation of being filled with his warm come mingled with the sound of him breathing heavily against my neck. I kissed the place where I had bitten him, wrapping my legs tightly around him to hold him in as long as I could. He just seemed to keep filling me up, my hand stroking his back as he continued to empty himself inside of me.

 “We’ll be needed back on set soon,” Mark tells me a few minutes later as we lay wrapped up together beneath the covers, his arm cradling my head.

 “You know, I think I changed my mind about wanting you to be killed off quick,” I tell him, kissing him on the chest.

 “Oh? And what made you change your mind?”

 “Seems I finally found something your good at.”

 “I’m good at a lot of things.”

 I smiled at him mischievously. “Prove it.”  

[scarecrowandmrking]

The Falling (Mark Pellegrino story)

 My sister was always the pretty one. The girl who tried out for and got on the cheerleading squad. The one voted prom queen. The one who went to New York and became a successful designer with the wonderful life and fancy apartment. So I wasn’t at all surprised when I got the invitation to the wedding that would mark yet another achievement in the wonderful life that was my sister’s. Meanwhile I had never left the town of Surry, Wisconsin. No social life. Never even been laid much, just a mostly sexless relationship and a couple one night stands.

 The only lucky break I ever got in life was that on the day of the wedding there came a hellacious storm none of the meteorologists seem to see coming. My sister, decked out in her gazillion dollar wedding gown and accompanied by her model good looks husband, had had to stop taking their adorable photos to flee back into the dry confines of the church.  We were all pretty wet and miserable by then. Well, except for me that is. Wet. But decidedly not miserable.

 There came a loud knocking at the church door. The sound, hesitant at first but growing in its persistence, wasn’t heard by the rest of the crowd, so wrapped up in their empty bellies and the rather enviable chore of trying to control my sobbing sister. I found myself wandering forward as if in some sort of dream, not fully aware of what i was doing until I was standing in front of it with my hand hovering over the door knob.

 “What are you waiting for?”

 I turned to find my sister hovering behind me. Her mascara was smeared and the ornate vail she had been wearing was long since abandoned, revealing a rat’s nest beneath. I had never seen her look so normal before. And my heart secretly sang at the sight of it.

 A second later and the door was open, revealing the form of a hunch backed older woman wearing what appeared to be several layers of rags.  She was clutching a cane in her hand, her head bowed against the torrents of rain pelting her fragile form. My sister gave a kind of disgusted snort, causing the woman to look up at us. Her face was a mask of wrinkles and dirt that seemed to be so stubborn that not even the downpour could scrub it off.

 “What do you want,” my sister asked in a none too welcoming tone.

 “Shelter,” the old woman told us. “There is no place around here for miles. I wish to come in.”

My sister had a look on here face as if the old woman had asked to try on her wedding gown. “Nope,” she said after a moment. “We’re all filled up here.”

 She made to slam the door in the older woman’s face but I stopped her, grabbing her by the arm. “Hey, have a little compassion. It’s bad out there. And we have plenty of room.”

 My sister rolled her eyes and turned to make her way back to her adoring fan club in the center of the church. “Whatever,” she hollered over her shoulder.

 I turned back to the door to find the old woman had been replaced by the form of a beautiful woman dressed all in white. She had a faint glow about her like what I imagined an angel would have. Her hair was long and white, her face so stunning it made my sister look like a gremlin by comparison. My mouth hung open in shock and admiration. I felt as if reality had faded away and I was now in some kind of waking dream.

 “You have taken kindness on a stranger. A rare gift these days,” the angelic woman told me. She placed in my hands a red rose. I glanced down at it, feeling a strange sort of heat radiating off of it and seeming to sink into my flesh. “ And I am giving you one in return. This is a rose of giving. Whatever you wish shall be yours. But be careful, when the last petal falls the wishing shall be over. And nothing can be undone.”

 When I looked up to ask the strange woman a question I discovered that she was long gone.

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 I placed the rose on my nightstand and went back to watching my nightly binge of Netflix while I thought back on the events of the day. My sister had seemed to be in a much better mood as she and her hubby had headed off to the airport on their way to the Bahamas.  On the flight back to my little nothing town in the middle of nowhere, I had held the rose in my hands and thought about all the things I would change in my life if I could. But all of it really came down to only a few real things I wanted to change in my life. Always the same things. In exactly the same order.

 The first thing I always did when I got into bed every night was take out my laptop and peruse my social media pages, all devoted to my some would say unhealthy unrequited love affair with the actor Mark Pellegrino. I had first seen the tall, blond haired sexy creature as the all powerful being Jacob on Lost. Then I had moved on to watching him on Dexter, The Tomorrow People, Castle, Supernatural and a host of other Tv shows and movies. I had even spoken to him a few times on Twitter and had met him for a photo op at a con once, all of which only heightened my infatuation for the man. Though there were times to be sure when I felt a tad bit embarrassed of myself that my sister was dating and getting married and no doubt headed to motherville  when my entire life was devoted to an actor who more than likely didn’t know I existed.

 “I wish he knew I existed,” I told the rose from its place next to my bed. Looking at it, I could tell it had not fared well on the trip here.  Already it looked to be wilting and missing some of its once pristine petals. “I want him to love me, too. I want what my sister has. I want someone to choose me for once. Not some other girl. Me.”

 I fell asleep wondering what that would be like. To have a man lay down and hold me like they did in the romance novels I read. Was Mark a lay down and hug you sort? And I laid there and thought back to all the pictures and gifs and blogs I had of him, trying to imagine the man behind all of that. Not the celebrity, but the actual man. The flesh and blood human being that cried when he was hurt or raged when he was angry. And I wondered where he was and what he was doing at this very moment. And if there was any place in his imaginings for someone like me…..

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 The first thing I became aware of when I opened my eyes was that I was no longer in my own bed anymore. And that’s a pretty frightening sensation to wake up, let me tell you.  I stared about the strange bedroom for a moment before reaching over to turn on what I’d hoped would be a light. And when it came on I found myself gazing around a spacious room much more expensive looking than anything my bookstore employee ass could ever afford. We weren’t talking Wal Mart decor here.

 “It’s late. Turn off the light,” a deep voice grumbled from behind me. A chill went down my spine. I would know that voice from anywhere. I turned, and sure enough the man I had been lusting after for years now was laying next to me under the covers, looking quite sexy while sporting a rather epic case of bed head.

 “Uh.....” I wish I had said something for more sexy in that moment, but apparently when you fall asleep and wake up in someone else's bed for no apparent reason, it kind of robs you of any semblance of elegance.

 “Are you feeling ok, love?” Mark pulled himself up to a sitting position. I tried not to look at his naked chest and the nipples I had always wanted to feel beneath my tongue, but failed. “Still upset about the wedding?”

 “The...wedding.” My mouth was saying things but my mind just refused to go along with things. I had never been in bed with a man before. And certainly not THIS man. Fuck, he was sexy as hell. Like a damn majestic lion or something….

 To my surprise, Mark pulled me into his arms, pressing my breasts against his warm skin. I let out a sound halfway between and gasp and a moan, my pussy getting super wet and making some rather hard to ignore protests as the friction built where my thighs rubbed together. Hesitantly, because I really didn’t know what I was doing, I kissed him on his collar bone and rubbed along his side. His only response was to reach up and pat me gently on the head, much the same way you might comfort a small child, leading me to believe I had either done things wrong or maybe that even naked men in my bed might still have other places they had rather be.

 “You don’t know what’s going on in your sister’s life so there’s no point in comparing your life to hers,” Mark says, putting an arm around my shoulder. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, not even a sexual thing, but more like two life long friends discussing the various ups and downs of life. “You’ll only make yourself miserable. Not her.”

 “You just don’t know what it’s like to be the third wheel. Or not even in the picture at all. Like you don’t exist. Like nothing you do matters. Not to anybody. Like, why even bother?”

 Mark gazed up at the ceiling for a minute, collecting his thoughts.  I could tell that he and I had had this conversation many times before, and what he was about to tell me he had told on more than one occasion. But he was going to tell it again. As many times as it took to get through to me.

 “That’s just self defeating talk. You talk yourself into failure. Why not talk yourself into success instead? You think we would have any of the advances we do today, the electricity, the medicine, the technology if nobody believed they had anything to offer the world?”

 I sat for a while thinking about that. Mark had swayed me on a lot of things online in his debates. He had a way of opening my eyes to things, not just because he was usually right about things, but because he was kind about things. He approached people the way one would approach a spooked horse, with calmness and with an apple in hand as a reward for a job well done. I found myself sinking into him, partly aroused beyond what I could stand without trying to blatantly hump the man and also feeling like I just wanted to sleep curled up safe next to him.

 Horny won out. I nuzzled Mark on the neck before planting several kisses on his skin. I made sure my breasts rubbed his arms, rewarded when a sigh left his lips and his arms went around me, pulling me in closer.

 “Was I that convincing,” he asks, a wide smile on his face. His blue eyes twinkled in the light cast by the bedside lamp.

 “You could convince me of anything,” I tell him, letting my hands roam over his body. I wanted to touch all of him. Taste and feel and explore him as I had done so many times in my imagination, hands moving underneath my bed covers back at home. He was so much bigger than me, and I found myself comparing the size of his large hands to mine, the way his skin felt versus mine. I had never been able to explore another person this way, though I didn’t feel brave enough to go beneath the covers. I didn’t have the self confidence or the experience to just grab for what I wanted. Not yet, anyway.

 “Careful, you don’t know what I might ask you to do next,” he teased, pulling me in to kiss me lightly, almost chastly on the lips. It was the kind of kiss a couple does when they’ve known one another for a long time. When every kiss given was not the tongue and passion fueled affair of newbie daters. But at this very moment that was exactly what I wanted. This whole thing was new to me, after all.

 I took Mark’s hand and placed it between my legs, letting his fingers feel what I was having a hard time expressing in words. His facial expression changed in an instant, the smile and joking nature quickly replaced with something a lot more feral and hungry. A thrill went through me, part pure sexual enjoyment and part fear since this was was such an unknown.

 He grabbed my by the chin with both hands and pulled my face close for a hungry open mouthed kiss. I didn’t know what I was suppose to do with either my mouth or my hands so I just let him take the lead, thrilling at the feel of his hands roaming over my body. It was so much more than I had imagined it would be and for the briefest of moments I felt saddened by having missed out on it for so long. But the feeling was quickly replaced by the growing heat between my legs as he pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me.

 “What do you want me to do,” he asked me. “Tell me.”

 I found myself stroking his face,  wanting to remember every inch of it. Nothing good had ever come into my life and stayed. And I wanted to do all the things I had ever imagined doing with him on all those nights laying alone, hands moving beneath the covers.. Wanted to feel his lips and tongue between working their magic on my hot, wet slit.  But what I wanted at that moment most of all was to be one with him. Only him. So I parted my legs and grabbed his cock in my hands, rather clumsily trying to pull him down to my pussy.

 “I don’t want to hurt you,” Mark tells me, placing his forehead against mine. He’s breathing hard over me, his entire body coiled tight as a bow with need.

“Please,” I beg him. “Now.”

 He kisses me softly on the lips as his cock brushes against my slit, his head rubbing my clit and making me moan against him. He toyed with me for a few thrusts, wetting himself in my folds before trying to push inside of me. It wasn’t easy, the pain of being penetrated after so long made me wince and he stopped, soothing me and stroking my face as the discomfort slowly subsided. Then he was moving inside of me and everything else faded away except the growing waves of pleasure inside of me. I screamed his name and clawed into his shoulders, begging him over and over again for something I didn’t quite understand. It was so much more than just to be brought to an orgasm. I wanted a release from everything I had been running from up to this point. All the disappointments that had come and gone. The years spent alone and looking out a window onto a world of couples and lovers and white picket fences. I wanted it to be washed away once and for all. By him. By Us.

  When I couldn’t hold back any longer from that moment I had been aching so long for, I arched my back and closed my eyes, feeling Mark go over that cliff with me.The feeling of his warm come filling me up taking me to new heights of pleasure, It was not just a moment filled with screams of passion and nails clawing skin, but an acknowledgement of two beings connecting and worshiping each other on a level that didn’t require all the bells and whistles. It was a simplicity I found so deep and beautiful.  And one I never wanted to end.

 “Thank you,” I told him as we lay together afterward, my head laid against his chest. I wasn’t sure why, but it seemed like the right thing to say to him. I got the feeling that, though I didn’t know how this had happened or even why, that he had somehow allowed it to happen. That this was not the work of some evil magic that had drawn him in like an insect to a web. And the thought gave me an inkling of relief.

 “I don’t feel sorry for you,” he tells me. I know I should be upset by this in some way, but I felt too removed my usual self, the girl who cared too much, who cried into her pillow at night because nobody wanted her. That girl did not exist here.  “But I do feel for you. I know why you are the way that you are. But you could change it if you wanted to.”

 “How?”

 He took my hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “When you finally realize you aren’t in this alone.”

****************************************************************************************************

 I thought about the dream I had had of Mark Pellegrino as I waited in line with everyone else to get a photo op with the Supernatural actor. Things had been going rather well for me after the wedding. My sister had caught her husband butt naked on the living room couch with someone or other and she had lost her job after losing a major client and was now crashing at our parent’s house. And as for me I had finally gotten up the courage to send in some of my manuscripts to some publishing houses and in the next couple of months two of my books would be hitting the shelves. I had bought a new car and had upgraded from an apartment to a little house on the outskirts of town. I didn’t feel like an ugly, rejected failure anymore, not because I was loved by a man, nothing had changed since my wonderful dream about Mark, but because I had gone out and done something to make my life better.  

 But something odd happened when it was my turn to get my picture taken with Mark. He was standing there in his dark pea coat, tall and regal and every bit as beautiful in person as he was on TV, but when he turned to me his eyebrows rose slightly and it was obvious he remembered me. I ran up to him, wrapping my arms around him as tightly as I could.  He pressed his cheek against mine and for a moment I felt like I was back upon the bed, our bodies wrapped around each other and fueled by both love and need.

 I wasn’t aware of the picture being taken but I somehow sensed it had been and parted from our embrace to let the next person in line through. “How’s your sister?”

 I stopped in my tracks and turned. Mark had stopped taking pictures for a second, his eyes staring intently into mine. There was something about it that reminded me of the dream, the feeling that reality had been encroached upon by something that was other. Some might even call it magic.

 “She’s miserable. But I’m a published author now,” I told him.

 He smiled at me. A genuine, real smile that made me light up inside. Then the moment was over and he went back to taking pictures with fans. I wasn't aware of it then, but many miles away in the home I had just purchased there was hidden inside a moving box a long forgotten rose with only a few petals left upon its tiny stem. And at that very moment, the petals fell away into  the bottom of the box. I would find this out a few weeks later when I discovered the remains of the rose the stranger at my sister’s wedding had given me. And I would shake my head and laugh. But, deep down, I knew.

[scarecrowandmrking]

FUN ON THE RANGE

  "Every person that has a gun should be trained in how to use it. And what does a person need with tons of bullets and high capacity mags anyway?"     "Most people hands shake when they shoot. Good luck with your handful of bullets in a life or death situation."     Nelly sat there seething, staring at the lap top  screen as actor Mark Pellegrino followed up  his line of reasoning with a long monolog about personal rights, strawmen and how people have every right to defend themselves with deadly force. She gritted her teeth, the beginning of a migraine causing her eyes to tear up. She knew from past experience this could go on all night. Mark was in fight mode, which she had always gotten the impression was also horny mode. Like the guy just wanted to fight with somebody than finish blowing off steam nutting in somebody somewhere. And honestly, she didn't know if she wanted to kiss him right now or punch him in the face.     "I'm a great shot," she wrote back, a curse leaving her lips as she angry typed so loud her cat, Jinx, woke up from his nap on the couch and fixed her with an evil eye.     "Prove it."     Nelly looked at the screen, perplexed.     ???     "I have a friend who owns a firing range close to where you live. Here's the deal. You seem like a bright young woman. Let me show you the error of your ways."     "Sure," Nelly told him. "But you're wrong."     "We'll see. You're a good egg."     Nelly snorted, trying to ignore the shiver that went through her as she imagined finally meeting the man she had been debating on Twitter for the past six years. She'd started debating him when she was just fourteen years old, but he'd blocked her when he'd found out how young she was. She'd fully expected that when she turned twenty he'd start to DM her or something, but instead things had just been same old, same old. Until now.     "When?"     "Soon."   Nelly used a couple of choice emogis, showing her displeasure at his vagueness. He enjoyed playing with her far too damn much.    "How does tonight sound?"     "I bet you can't hit the broad side of a barn, she wrote back."     He sent back a devil emogi with a HA after it.    "Mature."     "You started it. I just finished it."     "You haven't finished anything yet."     "I will. "     "Prove it, cowboy."     "Tonight." **********************************************************************************    Nelly dressed in a white blouse with a brown leather vest and a pair of tight jeans. She'd be damned if she was going shooting in some frilly dress and heels.    Maybe if Mark took her out again he'd see that side of her, but tonight she was determined to get out there and prove his ass wrong. She only needed one bullet to hit a target. Fuck him if he thought she needed thirty.     The doorbell rang, shocking Nelly out of her imagined win over her favorite debate buddy. She opened the door to find Mark standing there in a brown leather jacket, black zombie shirt and a pair of jeans. He was tall as hell, towering over her with a wide grin on his handsome face. She felt herself go wet at his nearness, pressing her legs together to pleasure herself a little as she stared up at him, speechless.     "Are you ready," he asked when she didn't invite him in or give him a hug. Or acknowledge his existence in any way.     "OK, sure," she said, letting him lead the way to his BMW waiting outside.      The ride to the firing range was passed by a real life version of the debates Mark and Nelly had had for so long on Twitter interspersed with him being more intimate and asking her questions about school and family. He was a quiet and thoughtful companion, seeming to hang on her every word and fully committing to answering her questions on everything from racial profiling to gun control. He had an imformed opinion on a lot of subjects, but Nelly quickly found herself squirming in her seat, eager to ask him about other things. Things like how hard he liked to be ridden and if he would fill her full of cum if she rode him right.     "You're pretty lost in thought over there," Mark said at one point, grinning at her in a way that made her face feel hot. "Anything you want to share?"   "Is this place far," Nelly asked, hoping her face didn't give away the fact that her pussy had thoroughly soaked the bottom of her pants. And he hadn't even touched her yet.     "Almost there."    They pulled up to a one story building with a fence around it. Mark quickly got out and unlocked the gate, parking the BMW in the middle of the deserted parking lot. A sign on the front of the building said Shooters Depot in huge red letters and beneath that a bulletin board covered in notices. The place appeared to be deserted.     Mark opened the car door for Nelly and she got out, letting him lead her around the back of the building where the range was. A she'd extended out from the back of the building across the property, several small wooden tables underneath it. The targets across the way were still visible because the lights had been left on.   "Are you ready?"    Nelly turned to find that Mark had placed a small leather bag on the table. He opened it, pulling out some noise canceling ear muffs and a 45. He waited for her to nod before he let her put the ear muffs on and take the gun from him.    She stared hard at the target, she let the world shrink down to what she was fixated on doing. Nelly fired one shot. Then two. Then three. All were head shots. Only one was a little off center.     "Oooh, you almost missed this one," Mark said , inspecting her handy work with a critical eye.     "I highly doubt anybody would survive that head shot. You're point is invalid."     "Let me show you what you're doing wrong."     Nelly rolled her eyes. "I'm not doing anything....OK. Sure. Whatever." Nelly extended her arms back out, fixating again on the target ahead of her. Only this time Mark put his arms on either side of hers, pressing himself tightly against her. She jumped a little, only making her brush back against him harder. He pressed against the railing, his body bending over hers and his chin on her shoulder.     "Look at the target," he told her, acting oblivious to the fact that he was in just the right position to yank her pants down and doggy fuck her over the railing.   "Keep your back straight and take a deep breath. Don't think about how long it takes. A planned shot is always better than a fast, sloppy one."     Nelly pulled the trigger. This time the next three shot were all on point. As she took the ear muffs off, she told herself it wasn't because of Mark. If anything he was more of a distraction to her shooting than anything else, her dripping pussy making it even harder to concentrate. Without meaning to, she felt herself rubbing back into him, feeling her ass rub against the hard bulge of his jeans. Mark moaned in her ear before suddenly attempting to pull away from her.     Nelly turned in his arms, taking his face in her hands and pulling his lips down on hers. His mouth was open as he devoured her with his clever, probing tongue. She cried out into his mouth, overwhelmed by the feel and taste and scent of him. He was everything she'd always fantasized he'd be. And so much more. She rubbed herself against him with a moan before taking his hand and plunging it down the front of her jeans. He flung her onto the table, pushing her back upon the hard wooden surface.     Her pussy lips parted and his fingers slid down the length of her hot length. Mark let out a deep, gutteral sound, crushing her against the table as three fingers plunged into her tight pussy and filled her up. He ripped open the front of her blouse with one hand, greedily sucking on a rose colored nipple as he vigorously worked her with his fingers. The jeans were soon scrunched up around her boots.    "You're so beautiful," he tells her, kissing his way down her body. "I've thought about you so many times. Like this. Wet and ready for me."     Nelly grabbed his blond head and held onto him tightly as he licked her outer lips. He played with her swollen clit, finding just the right rhythm of swirling his tongue around while he fucked her with his fingers. After about ten thrusts Nelly cried his name as she came hard upon his face, her cum squirting his face and into his mouth. Mark smiled up at her, licking her quivering pussy clean before straightening up again.     "Do you want me to be inside of you?" His hands traced the curves of her body, not in a rough, lustful way, but in a gentle lover's caress. He wasn't the warrior taking liberties with his conquest. He was a servant worshipping his beloved queen. Nelly could feel the power in him, the fight in him. And the fact that he was submitting all that to her, for her love and approval, turned her on more than anything any man had done for her before.     "Please," she whispered, still dazed from the climax he had brought her to. "I just want to belong to you."     Mark unzipped his pants and leaned over her, plunging himself balls deep in her pussy in one savage thrust. He had a wide cock, stretching her pussy in a way that made Nelly gasp for a second, relieved when he stopped for a minute, letting her get use to the size of him. When she was ready, he started off with gentle, slow thrusts, kissing her neck and breasts, telling her how good she felt and how tight her pussy was on his cock.   "Mark," Nelly moaned as a deep orgasm took her over beneath the combined sensations of his cock and his mouth. Mark placed his face over hers, watching her face as she came with a dark look of complete lust on his face. He growled, his pace quickening and making the whole table rock under them.    "Where do you want me to cum," he growled against her neck. "I'm so close."    "In my pussy," Nelly said between frenzied moans and pleas. She knew she was driving him crazy with her begging and her nails driving into his back, and she loved it.     "You want me to fill up that little pussy?"     "Yes."     Mark thrusted hard twice more before he paused to lay on top of her, his forehead presses to hers. "Fuck," he said as she felt the warmth of his spurts inside of her. She closed her eyes, lost in the feeling of having a pussy filled with warm cum. She wrapped her legs around him, making sure her pussy got every drop he had to give her.     "I'm sure you'll agree you would have a shaky hand in a life or death situation," Mark replied, his cock still buried inside her cum filled pussy.    "I'm a perfect shot. My hand never shakes. Never."     "Your whole body shakes for me."     "It most certainly does not," Nelly lied.     "Will I have to prove it to you?"     "Yep."