Hipster Fuckr
by Janie Pander
Copyright 2012
Smashwords Edition
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Please wash your hands after reading.
***
Roxxxie Duchess has 9,806 facebook photos (more if you include Flickr and insta.gram). Her life is a constant stream of cell phone moments. Her “dream blog” has 76,508 subscribers.
She has had 0 sex. Tonight that’s gonna change, live.
***
I was in Virgil’s cafe, a low-end coffee bar in Brooklyn. The ride down from upstate had been uneventful; people sleeping, people reading, and me, getting more and more photos from Roxxxie.
I wasn’t the only one, of course. There were at least a hundred thousand others who followed her every move. What clothes she tried on, where she got her coffee, what she read... Tonight, she was trying on outfits. Allegedly for Halloween (which was months away). She was bending over, posting one frame at a time of her black silk panties.I tossed my backpack over my bulge, my phone’s internet going in and out.
I knew she was messing with me. She had to be.
She had gone from maid to princess to elf, and then the feed had gone dark. Normally, Miss Duchess gave herself a few hours of downtime from reporting anything. She had told me that I should “really come down to Brooklyn” sometime, and the costumes had made me get on the bus in the first place.
It didn’t matter. I’d screw her if she was wearing a barrel. I was refreshing my phone (there was some rumor that Hootie and the Blowfish were going to reunite) when it dinged.
“Hi Nolan. 4532 West 10th, apt 5. Twenty minutes. I assumed that’s why you were tweeting about being on the Fung Wah?”
Attached was her bending over and waving. The first thing I noticed were her purple leggings. Then her ass… a big white belt over a “Keep Brooklyn weird” t-shirt. It took me a few more minutes of looking to notice her classic Buddy Holly glasses. And the same pair of panties.
I was wearing some old Levis, a yellow band tee, gray sweater and a black winter peacoat. Nothing fancy. I looked myself over on the subway, trying to avoid everyone else’s faces. I checked my watch every six seconds. Still not there. Still not there. Another look at that photo…then back to my watch.
By the time I got to the right stop, my heart was racing. I sprinted up the stairs, and buzzed her front door.
“Oh, hey!” she bubbled. “I was just about to call someone else!”
The door opened and I don’t remember anything except her opening the door to her room…and the rig.
I had expected something like this. Every inch of Roxxxie’s place was filled with in different cameras, lights, stands, and reflectors. Christmas tree lights hung around, mingling with photo bouncers turned low.
It was a porn set, and I was the star.
“What do you think, Nono?” she cooed. “I figure, why have sex and not tell anyone?”
I started kissing her. No, more than that. I threw my tongue down her throat, grabbing her ass hard. I didn’t even put down my backpack until we stumbled our way to the center of the room, onto her purple sheeted queen mattress.
“Were you…oh god…gonna call someone else?” I asked, smelling her neck.
“Maaaybe…” she teased. God, it was different in person – I had only met her at a party once, and had hit it off. I think she had blogged about me as “Mr. X”, but…
I took off her hipster t-shirt, then looked at it. “Where do I toss it?” I said.
“Not over there.”
She pointed at a laptop, that was recording the number of current viewers and subscribers.
“You showing up more than doubled it,” she said, “and I bet we can get that even higher.”
I dropped the shirt next to the bed, staring at her wonderful tits. She took mine off, put it in the pile, and placed my left hand on her left breast. Medium sized and pert, I started rubbing it slowly.
“Can they hear you moan?” I said.
She just grinned.
***
Roxxxie was tight. I couldn’t get in the first time; she grunted with frustration. I reached over for some KY and started easing in two fingers.
“You don’t do this a lot?” I asked her.
“Ummm, virgin?” She said sarcastically.
I began working her slowly, judging her reaction. I began to thumb her clit, rubbing it between my thumb and pinkie finger. She bit her lip.
“What about…you know…my tits?”
I smiled. “Give it some time. Just concentrate on how you feel.”
She put one hand on my other arm and started squeezing it. I slowly guided myself to her touch, not obeying, but letting her be in control. We were both focused on getting her off, as slowly as possible.
“It feels real good, Nolan.”
I rubbed in a slow circle, tantalizing her. She started to get wet, and she closed her eyes. I pressed down, and she let out a squeek.
“Hey!”
I didn’t say a word, just kept playing with her. I moved my fingers up slightly, causing her to buck towards me.
After a few seconds, I let up, causing her to raise her hips subconciously.
“I think you like it.” I teased.
“Yeah, I’m supposed to, aren’t I?” she said. I glanced over at the cameras. The computer said it was around eighty thousand viewers online, which was amazing. Apparently everyone wanted to see Roxxxie get laid. I wondered idly how many were watching from their mobile phones, slipping into a restaurant bathroom to play with themselves. It had to be hundreds.
“Well?” Roxxxie said, jolting me back to reality. I began to toy with her more honestly now, opening her shirt and lowering her bra to her waist. “Mmm.”