Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Goth Passion in New Orleans Part I
Author: Kael
Keywords: MF, cons, rough, nosex

   Comments may be sent to kaelsmith12@yahoo.com

   Marlowe turned into the doorway she was standing in, cupped a hand to
her cigarette, and lit it before turning back around.  She leaned back
against the gritty brick wall and looked around.  It had been windy all
day, and a few moments before, large, heavy raindrops had finally begun
falling from the overcast sky.  She'd known the shops and cafes along
Decatur street would fill quickly with tourists and other pedestrians, so
she had turned down a side street and taken shelter in the unused side
entrance of an old building that housed three or four different shops
hawking t-shirts, postcards, and magnets all emblazoned with fleur de lis
and references to Bourbon street to drunk tourists.

   Marlowe took a drag of her cigarette and studied her reflection in a car
window across the street.  Her long, thick blonde hair hung nearly to her
waist.  It fell forward and veiled her blue eyes, and pale, high-cheekboned
face.  It had darkened and curled a little in the rain.  She watched her
reflection exhale a breath of smoke from full, coral lips.  She was petite
for her 18 years, only 5' and 102 lbs, but she had good proportions.  Soft,
well-shaped, 34B breasts were followed by a small waist, and small, round
ass.  Today she wore a beat up pair of green converse that she'd had for
the past three years, black cargo pants, an over-sized black hoodie, and a
loose black t-shirt with her favorite quote printed on it in pale yellow.
"There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night," by
Albert Camus.  She wrapped the hoodie around herself tightly, and held it
against her body with her arm across her waist as she shivered in the cool
air brought in by the rain.  Marlowe inhaled from her cigarette again,
enjoying the raw burning sensation in the back of her throat as she
breathed in the smoke deeply.  She exhaled and watched the smoke drift up
towards the slate sky.  When she looked back down, there was a boy across
the street.  He looked her age, maybe a few years older.  He had pale skin,
grey eyes, and shoulder-length brown hair so dark it seemed black.  He wore
black cargo pants like hers, black combat boots, and a black Burzum
t-shirt, speckled by raindrops.  She could feel him studying her, and she
looked back at him unafraid.  He crossed the street and stepped up into the
doorway next to her.  He took out his own pack of cigarettes, lit one,
inhaled, and blew the smoke out towards the street.  He turned to face her,
and she turned too.  They both smiled at each other, and Marlowe broke the
silence.  "It's raining," she said.

   "Yes," the boy replied, still smiling.  He hooked two of his long, pale
fingers into her collar, pulled her towards him, and leaned down to kiss
her, pressing his lips against hers.  She moaned, surprised but kissed him
back.  He tossed away his cigarette and wrapped his left arm around her
waist, holding her against him.  She could feel his warm strength holding
her tightly.  He wrapped his right hand through her hair and tugged her
head back, exposing her neck.  She shivered as he bent his head down
further, bit the side of her neck, sent a sharp pain through her.  She
stood up on tiptoes, bit the spot between his neck and shoulder, felt her
teeth come close to piercing his warm, smooth skin.  He yanked on her hair
again, and she moaned, bit him harder farther up his neck.  He turned,
slammed her back against the wall, sending a jolt through her body.  He
pulled her hair, nibbled on her earlobe, then bit her shoulder hard and she
moaned louder, pressing herself against him.  They kissed again, setting
her whole body tingling, full of heat.  She parted her lips, and his tongue
pushed into her mouth, playing with hers.  His right hand released her
hair, stroked it softly, then ran under her shirt.  His warm hand ran up
her side, thumb brushing over her bellybutton, and squeezed her breast hard
through her bra.  She could feel the bulge of his cock pressing into her,
and she pushed against it desperately.  He squeezed her breast harder,
kissed her again, then pulled away.  She stayed pressed against him, looked
up into his shining grey eyes, and bit his chest playfully.  He stroked her
hair, kissed the top of her head.

   "We need to go somewhere," he said, and Marlowe nodded.  "I'm Zacharias,
or Z."

   "Marlowe," she replied.

   "Cool," he said, and smiled.

   She pulled out her cigarettes and lit one, hands shaking.  She held the
pack out to Z.  "Need one?" she asked.

   He chuckled and nodded, "Definitely." They both stood smoking.  She
leaned back against him, her head resting on his chest, three or four
inches below his chin, and his arm draped over one of her shoulder.  They
finished their cigarettes and then stepped out into the rain, a steady
drizzle now, to go look for somewhere.