silverlaker

Welcome back, friendly viewers. Let me tell you a little story I like to call, "Tangled Web"...

Ian & Liz
1.
The living room is empty. The assembly is that of cold, modern furniture. Not the warmth of Le Corbusier or Eames, but the lackluster fare of DIVA and that hack shit by Armani home.
Moans are heard down the hall, cutting through the heavy air. They only add to the void. The bedroom door is wide open. Strewn clothes form a crumb trail towards the voices. Through the mirror in the hall, their bodies are visible. Her hips writhe. Liz is her name. She is talking dirty, in a sterile pornographic fashion. The way women are taught to these days.
- Fuck me with that big meat, baby.
She stares at the carpet. Her dark hair falls forward over her face. Ian's runs his hand through his beachy blonde hair, thrusting his cock deep. He flexes his stomach. He looks down. He admires.
-Take it, bitch. Take it!
His hand falls onto Liz's ass. He touches her double cherry tattoo neatly inked above her crack.
- I'm gonna come, baby.
Liz grinds harder. She whips her hair around and looks back at Ian, flexing. He moans loudly, like a stuck pig.
- What a good boy! Yea!

Ian pulls out and comes all over her cherries. He rubs it in. Liz smiles and her gold tooth twinkles in the sunlight.