Do it like Marilyn!

By The Marilyn Writer




As the book's title and the author's name might suggest, this story has got some connection with Marilyn Monroe. It is by no means fan fiction or slash fiction the connection with Marilyn Monroe stems from the fact that the main character finds himself (ironically, I might add) identifying with the buxom blonde of the fifties. It is important to remember, though, that the story's title is merely a working title.

There will be sex in this story. It is an integral part of the story, meant to arouse, yes, but also meant to reflect real life accurately. Having said that, this is a story containing sex scenes, not sex scenes with a bit of story wrapped around it.

The first chapter is short, but I think you might still enjoy it. If that is the case, feel free to contact me and let me know. Any suggestions are always welcome. So is criticism.


The Marilyn Writer


Cory was dancing, and by God he was enjoying it.

All those years of being repressed, forced into a mould that didn't fit him, were gone. Over. They were done for good, yes sir! Never will he go back to living like he did. Never will he go back to hiding himself. Never will he wear his masks again. Never will he pretend like he was just another one of your normal average Joe's.

He jiggled his body to the beat of Foreigner, his movements silly, his expression gleeful. He might have been by himself, he might have been in the privacy of his own living room, but never had he felt less alone in his life.

He was free!

The beat was picking up, the singer's voice rising. Feeling goofy, Cory started to undress. First his tie, loosened with one hand and swept off with a flourish. Then his shirt, his shoulders jerking to the rhythm as he loosened each button.

As his shirt flew across the room to join his tie on the couch, he started giggling. That bastard Tommy thought he had finished Cory for good. Cory had thought so himself at first. But oh! The sweet freedom that Tommy had provided him through his callousness... It was something Cory would forever be grateful for.

Not that he would forget. Oh no. He would always remember how Tommy had stabbed him in the back. The look of sadistic pleasure on his face as he tried to bring Cory's life crashing down around him will never leave his thoughts. He would remember, and Tommy will get his due.

The thought ignited a sweet sense of eroticism inside himself. He swept his hands saucily over his defined upper body and down toward his belt buckle. He felt himself harden as he loosened the belt, but he didn't care. He knew his roommate might be home soon, but he didn't care about that either.

Within seconds his shirt and his tie had his belt for company as well. He slowly unzipped his pants, belting along with Foreigner. Hot Blooded he was. Yes sir! His pants dropped to his ankles and, with some awkwardness, he kicked his shoes off and stepped free from his pants with one fluid motion.

Now only his boxers were left, such as they were. The thick bulge that was his penis strained against the thin blue cotton of his extra short underwear. Completely hard now, it stuck out at the bottom, resting against his right thigh and throbbing like he hadn't had sex in ten years. He wet a finger in his mouth and pulled the foreskin back ever so slightly in order to caress the tip.

He moaned in pleasure, and he knew he was loud, but he didn't care. Let the neighbours hear him! Let them hear just how happy he was!

He took his hot member in his left hand and tugged firmly at the flimsy cotton boxers with his right. They tore surprisingly easily, neatly along the seam. His cock wasn't anything special length wise. In fact, it was admittedly a little on the short side, something that had been plaguing him since puberty, but what it lacked in length it made up for in thickness.

Naked now, he grasped his cock firmly and ran his hand up and down as he gyrated his hips. Pressure built up quickly, bringing with it a pleasure the likes of which he hadn't ever known. He caught a look at himself in the mirror above the couch, naked, masturbating, and the sight turned him on even more. He could see his uncut cock straining away from his body, a neat patch of short, blonde pubic hair above it. Raw bolts of electricity convulsed through his body as he squeezed and fondled the head of his cock.

His hand became slick with his own precum, and soon he was pounding his dick with tremendous force. His foreskin was pulled completely back now, his dick too hard for it to cover the head. His balls clung tightly to the base of his shaft as if in anticipation.

He was sweating, dancing faster, jerking harder. His head was thrown back and an expression of pure ecstasy flooded his face. He was close the point of no return and he knew it. A deep moan of pleasure escaped from him as he felt the beginnings of his orgasm.

He erupted like a volcano. Cum flew everywhere. He aimed his dick upward and caught a few spurts on his face, licking his lips to try and get it all as soon as possible.

When he was spent he sank to the floor, exhausted. Cum was still dripping from his dick, forming a small puddle on his stomach. He exhaustedly ran his fingers through it, spreading it all over his taught, hairless chest.

He might have been lying down, and he might have been too tired to move, but inside Cory was dancing, and by God he was enjoying it.