Just Lose It

AN: THIS IS A REVISED VERSION OF “JUST LOSE IT” That I published on November 26, 2006.

Please Be Advised that this is not my normal E/E Show. This Episode May Not Be Suitable For All Readers! Jealousy is a strong wicked emotion that No One truly has any real control of.

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Cheers & Hopefully Enjoyable Reading,

Nite Storm

~*~ Just Lose It! ~*~

Arriving in Nevada in the middle of the night after a long grueling tour of the Far East, Elton stops by the newsstand on his way out of the airport to grab a local paper to catch up on current news. While waiting to be checked out, mindlessly picks up a magazine, and suddenly finds it hard to breathe.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Good! You’re Still Up!” Elton angrily states, tossing the magazine on the cocktail table in front of his Baby.

“Explain!” Elton roughly demands, and Marshall leans forward and grabs the magazine.

“Well . . . it’s a trashy rag . . . nothing but gossip, hear say and lies . . . it’s sold at local supermarkets . . . . airports.” Marshall nonchalantly explains, while flipping through the magazine.

“Are you finished?” Elton agitatedly asks, standing over him with his hands on his hips.

“Britney got married to that unemployed dancer . . . . Ruben has to go on a diet or die . . .” Marshall jokingly explains flipping through the magazine.

“Give Me The Damn Thing!” Elton angrily barks, quickly jerking the magazine from his hands and flipping through it, and then quickly shoving it back.

“Sneak Peek! It’s fuckin’ more than a Fuckin’ Peek! I thought we had this conversion about a month ago? Well it’s obvious I had the conversation Alone! I said no more showing your ass after the Movie Awards! NO More! Too Keep Your Fuckin’ Pants UP! And I meant IT! That goes for the rest of your Clothes Also! You fuckin’ said nothing about taking your clothes off! You . . . You . . that! . . . that fuckin’ video better not air! If I want to see your ass . . .” Elton radically spews angrily pacing around the room.

“Where are your clothes!” Elton agitatedly demands stopping in front of the sofa; noticing for the first time his Baby is just in indigo satin boxers.

“One fuckin’ minute you have ten shirts baggie pants jackets coats Clothes that are to fuckin’ big for you and then NOTHING!” Elton radically adds waving his arms around.

“Are you done?” Marshall carefully asks after a few moments, removing his glasses and Elton agitatedly waves his hand flopping down in a chair next to the sofa.

“I’m gonna ignore most of the shit you just said, cause when you travel . . . you tend to get cranky . . . bitchy. I couldn’t sleep so I got up to get some of this stupid paper work done. If you don’t like the boxers I’ll change.” Marshall carefully explains, getting up and heading towards the door.

“While you’re at it why don’t you go ON And Pose Nude For one of those magazines!” Elton sarcastically comments quickly standing.

“Cause you’d have a Stroke.” Marshall sarcastically comments’, leaving the room and Elton blindly picks up a porcelain statue from the end stand and throws it at the now empty doorway.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“What are you doing now?” Elton agitatedly barks walking into the dressing room, as Marshall is playfully pulling on a third t-shirt.

“You’re the one that said I wore ten shirts.” Marshall jokingly comments, grabbing another shirt from the drawer and Elton agitatedly grabs it from his hand.

“Smart Ass!” Elton angrily shouts throwing the t-shirt back and storming from room.

“You know what your problem is? You haven’t been laid lately!” Marshall sarcastically yells out, while removing the t-shirts laughing.

“This Is Not Fuckin’ Funny!” Elton angrily shouts, pacing around their large master bedroom suite as Marshall enters laughing.

“Yes it is.” Marshall simply comments crawling up in bed.

“I’m Not Finished!” Elton firmly states.

“I am.” Marshall calmly says, fluffing his pillow and then pulling up the duvet.

“Marshall . . .” Elton firmly states, now standing over the bed, and Marshall begins waving his hand.

“What?” Elton agitatedly barks, as his perfect hand waves through the air.

“Usually when you mad at me . . . you firmly state my full name . . .” Marshall informs; his head never lifting from the pillow.

“You just gonna stand there or ya comin’ to bed?” Marshall nonchalantly asks, after a few minutes of his husband standing over him, huffing and puffin.

“Everyone is going to be drooling over Those Fuckin’ Pictures! Talking!” Elton firmly states, with his hands on his hips.

“That’s kinda of the point.” Marshall nonchalantly comments, a little muffled from the pillow.

“I’m Mad at YOU!” Elton angrily states, his hands still on his hips.

“Haven’t noticed.” Marshall says with a quick laugh rolling onto his back and looking up at him.

“Everyone may or may not drool . . . but you have the real thing . . .” Marshall seductively moans, leaning up and grabbing his wrist and tries to pull him down.

“I would really like for you to drool.” Marshall seductively suggests, pulling a little harder on his wrist.

“Joke all you want but that fuckin video better Not Fuckin’ Air!” Elton angrily threatens, roughly pulling away and heads to the dressing room.

“Back The Fuck Up!” Marshall angrily yells out, jumping from the bed and following.

“You can’t fuckin’ tell me what to do when it comes to my fuckin’ work!” Marshall firmly states, as Elton is removing his jewelry.

“I just did.” Elton confidently states, forcefully slamming closed his jewelry drawer.

“SO . . . It’s okay for you to show your ass in public . . .” Marshall agitatedly states.

“Here we go . . . change the subject all you want, BUT that fuckin video better not fuckin air!” Elton angrily interrupts pointing his finger directly at him, as if he’s talking to a five year old.

“You haven’t even seen it.” Marshall agitatedly whines following to the bathroom.

“I fuckin seen My Band every god damn time I fuckin’ turned on the motherfuckin’ television! Thank God! Superman wasn’t . . .” Elton angrily sporadically spews, quickly turning around and glaring as clear images of That Topless Slut Groping His Husband during the filming of My Band rushes through his head.

“Wait a fuckin’ minute! . . . Superman was before . . .” Marshall agitatedly begins but stops suddenly as Elton defiantly stands with his arms crossed.

“You think cause I don’t have any clothes on there must be women . . . .” Marshall says with a small laugh, it dawning on him how obsessive/possessive Reginald can get.

“There is! A totally Hot One that hits me with her purse.” Marshall quickly adds leaving with a sarcastic laugh.

Elton angrily picks up a crystal candleholder and blindly throws and it shatters into a thousand pieces against a far wall.

After blindly throwing a few more items, Elton takes a much-needed long hot bubble bath desperately trying to relive images of all the people that drool/fantasies over His Husband’s fabulous gorgeous luscious perfect body. How many offers His Husband accepted to have his cock sucked while he pranced around nude.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Marshall agitatedly crawls back in bed, but after hearing several objects break, gets up and goes into the home office and pulls out his personal copy thanks to MTV of the filming of Just Lose It from his back pack and returns to the bedroom.

Clicking the remote the television/entertainment center rises from its wooden case at the foot of the bed, inserts the tape, and then clicks off the lights, strips down to just his normal satin boxers and crawls back in bed.

Snuggled down in bed Marshall waits to click on the tape for when his husband is just about to doze off, but his body having other plans as his eyes get heavier and heavier.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Elton pulls on just his favorite satin robe while making a mental note to give Iris a bonus for the mess and then walks into the bedroom to find all the lights off and by the calm sounds HIS Property is asleep.

“Why cover up now.” Elton sarcastically whispers, dropping his robe and spooning in behind the perfect warm body, pushing the duvet away.

Marshall sleepily moans as a strong hand starts roughly roaming, and then forces him fully onto his stomach.

“I don’t want Anyone Touching Your Body But ME! You Belong To Me!” Elton firmly states in his ear as he finds the waistband of his boxers and lets his hand roughly roam in and over the warm flesh of his fabulous ass, as Marshall sleepily moans squirming a little from the roughness.

Slowly Elton slinks down the perfect muscular body, his mouth seductively kissing and sucking on soft warm flesh reviled from roughly pulling down the boxers.

“Sweetheart.” Marshall desperately moans, as Elton’s tongue caresses over his perfect hole, before roughly squeezing one perfect cheek as his mouth bites and sucks on the other.

Elton firmly holds his Baby’s perfect hips down as his mouth continues roughly assaulting soft silk flesh.

Marshall begins to squirm in discomfort as the little nips become painful bits over his back, shoulders and ass.

“Sweetheart . . .” Marshall breathlessly mumbles trying to roll over as Elton slightly lifts up and grabs the decanter of lube from the nightstand with one hand as the other applies pressure to the center of his perfect lower back.

“Your Mine!” Elton blindly states his voice cold as ice as he quickly lubes his fingers and roughly inserts one and then two into His Tight Property as his mouth passionately bites and sucks on any part of perfect flesh that it connects with.

Marshall’s mind tries to get a firm grip on reality as he’s forcefully held down; his body screaming that it’s about to be Fucked that quickly becomes reality with his husband roughly entering.

Elton in a blind rage of Need to Show His Husband that his perfect body Only Belongs to Him; forcefully holds perfect hips down and mercilessly thrusts in and out of the heavenly tight hole That Only Belongs To Him.

Marshall buries his face in the pillow desperately struggling to recall the last time they made love, as his body emotionally feels every forceful thrust and bite.

Elton erotically screams out releasing his seed deep inside His Property and after a few wet thrusts slips out and collapses over his properties sweaty muscular back.

Marshall’s mind emotionally racing forces his body to lay perfectly still to listen to his partner’s breathing become calm with sleep before gently moving out from under and painfully moving from the bed.

Quietly Marshall clicks on the video before leaving the room and Elton quickly sits up totally lost from the loud noise, but quickly recognizes his Baby’s voice as his eyes sleepily focus on the television screen. Totally hypnotized by the screen he watches his Baby at work, filming Just Loose It and then the complete video before the screen goes blank, crashing him back to a Horrible Reality.

Emotionally he makes his way through their large home frantically yelling out for his Baby, coming to a stop when noticing his cel-phone charging in its normal annoying spot on the kitchen counter, not in the home office where it’s suppose to be, but knowing he doesn’t go anywhere without it, sighs a slight relief.

Leaning against the counter clutching the phone against his chest his mind drifts away to their love; the gentleness, the way their bodies softly fall into deep heated passion; the way just a simple touch from his Baby’s perfect hand makes his body feel alive; the love he sees every time he looks into his husband’s perfect blue eyes.

A bone chilling cold covers his body as events of the night, roughly pulls him back to reality and he frantically rushes to the nearest guest room and silently thanks the Almighty God Above when he finds his Baby in the bed.

“Baby . . . I’m so sorry . . . I . . .” Elton emotionally cries, tears streaming down his cheeks as he carefully moves to the side of the bed.

“Reginald if you ever speak or even think of this night again. I Will Kill You.” Eminem roughly barks; keeping his back to him.

“Lay down and go to sleep!” Eminem emotionally barks after a few minutes of intense silence as more tears soak his already wet pillow.

Elton slowly lies down on top of the blankets and after emotional intense moments rests his hand gently on his Baby’s blanket covered perfect muscular back softly whispering “I Love You.”

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