Content advisory: m/f sex, oral sex
Stefan Christian Layne stood at the floor to ceiling windows and watched the freak show going on outside by the pool. His band-mates were out of control. He considered going into the back room he used as a studio and practicing rather than going out and mixing with the crowd of strangers who’d showed up because one of the assholes had yelled, “Party at Stefan’s after the show.” That’s all it had taken. The roadies and groupies had flocked to his house. The house he couldn’t afford.
Now they were drinking and swimming nude and who knew what else. Hopefully none of the jackasses would drown. Jesus, he should have gone on tour with his father after all. His band sure as hell wasn’t making the kind of money his dear old dad and the rest of the codgers were raking in. And wasn’t that wrong? So his father had been among the metal pioneers, wasn’t it time for them to retire and let the kids have it now?
Apparently not. All the old guy bands were touring and kicking the music scene’s ass. They might be a bunch of antiques but most of them hadn’t lost a damn thing. And the shit was, he wasn’t just a good musician, he was fucking great, but he wasn’t as good as his old man. Not yet. And that burned blisters on his ass.
He shoved his hair back. He would go practice and if the drunken sots all drowned he didn’t care. A flash of auburn hair stopped him in mid-pivot. Who the hell was she?
He stared in awe at a young woman moving gracefully through the throng of drunken buffoons. She approached another woman who was busy feeling up Alex, the drummer. The other woman looked annoyed and shook her head then turned her attention back to Alex’s cock, rubbing him through his jeans.
Red’s expression spoke volumes as she spun and stalked back the way she had come. Stefan’s paralysis broke. He had to meet her. And maybe get her in his bed. But by the time he got out of the house, she was nowhere in sight.
He maneuvered through the crowd of rowdy partiers. Cripes, he hoped no one called the cops on him again. The last time had cost him over a thousand dollars. He shoved past a knot of young men who were focused on the pool. He saw what held their rapt attention and his gut clenched. The creepy-assed bitch from Hell had shown up.
Richele, the most obnoxious, spooge-guzzling, groupie-whore he’d ever had the misfortune to run across, had showed up. Richele spent a good deal of her time on her knees, but at the moment, her long legs were bent and some guy Stefan didn’t know was between them, pumping away in front of everyone. Richele’s long blond hair partially obscured her face but not enough that Stefan didn’t see her ecstatic expression. She looked over at him, made direct eye contact and licked her lips.
Stefan shuddered. Most likely, the guys watching the side show would each get a turn at her before she left. She’d tried on numerous occasions to get him to screw her. Wasn’t happening. Not in this lifetime or the next. He wouldn’t be surprised if the guy humping her didn’t make it home before his willie turned green.
Stefan continued on and spied the bass player, Mark. “Did you see which way the redhead went?”
Mark, Stefan’s off again, on again lover, pointed toward the gardens at the side of the house. He snorted. “Chasing pussy for a change?”
Stefan shrugged, waved and took off after her. He liked getting it from males as much as he liked giving it to the lovelies who wanted a little time with his cock. So what? At least he was in an industry where being bi-sexual wasn’t a big deal. At least not with most people.
He’d been Mark’s bitch-on-call almost from the day the gorgeous musician had auditioned. Stefan had been instantly smitten with Mark’s good looks. His dark hair fell to his ass and he was built like a brick shithouse. All muscle and hard flesh, the exact opposite of what he found appealing in a female. Stefan liked his women, soft and pliable.
It was rather ironic that his father, the old jerk, was totally disgusted with Stefan’s sexual appetites. Which was the real reason Stefan hadn’t gone on tour with the old farts. He didn’t need his father constantly on his ass for something he had no control over. Attraction was attraction. It wasn’t like he could get up one day and decide men would no longer do it for him. Even if he could have made a ton of money touring with his father’s band, it wouldn’t be worth it in the long run.
Though at the moment, he wasn’t interested in cock. He rounded the house and found the object he desired. She stood beside the garden pond. Her long hair gleamed under the sun. He wanted to run his hands through those exquisite strands. They had to be soft as silk. He’d like to bury his face in that mass of copper.
He sauntered toward her, boots crunching over the gravel walkway.
She turned and gave him a head to toe once over. She was bold, appraising him like a slab of meat. He liked it. “Having a good time?” he asked and gave her a look over in return. She was scorching hot in a super-short black skirt and crimson top with little black ankle-high boots. Was she already wet under that skirt? He wanted to find out. If she wasn’t, he could rectify the situation.
“Nope.”
“Huh?” Everyone else was having a good time on his tab.
“My friend dragged me here. She wants in the drummer’s pants. I’m not into the groupie shit.”
Wow. She showed no interest in him at all. How unusual was that? He had to have her. “Can I get you a drink or something?”
“I don’t know. Will your boyfriend take offense?”
He laughed. She knew who he was at least. “Mark and I aren’t exclusive and we’re both bi-sexual.”
She lifted a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Hump anything that moves, huh?”
“Not me. I only hump women.” Might as well let her know how it was.
She brushed back an auburn wave of hair. “So you just like getting it?”
“I’ve never had my dick in a guy’s ass if that’s what you’re trying to find out.”
“Actually, it was.”
“Problem with it?” He hoped not. He really wanted to do her. He could already imagine sinking his cock deep in her hot pussy. His cock was playing along with the mental picture and stiffening in his leather pants.
“Not at all, but like I told you, I’m not into the groupie thing. I didn’t come here to get fucked.”
Shit. Had she really said that?
“Okay, how about coming inside and we’ll just hang out?”
She looked like she might be considering it. “I’ll come in if you play something for me. On the violin.”
She was a groupie. She just didn’t know it yet. A stupid grin spread over his face. She liked his favorite instrument. He had to do her and that’s all there was to it. “You got it. What’s your name?”
“Catelin.”
“Come on, Catelin. Let’s go have some fun in the studio.”
She walked beside him as they headed back around the house. He smirked over at Mark as he watched them pass.
“You sure it’s okay with him? I don’t want to cause you problems.”
“It’s fine. He’ll probably take someone home with him. We aren’t clingy.” Though in all honesty, it stung when Mark took someone else to his bed. That Stefan also screwed others and Mark didn’t care in the least also stung. Mark was totally cool with sleeping around with anyone that suited his fancy at the moment. Stefan only did it because Mark did. Though he sure as hell wanted this woman.
He led her inside and then down a long hallway to the back of the house where the soundproofed studio was tucked into a corner. It was small, but it had everything he and his band-mates needed. He closed the door behind them. “Make yourself at home.”
She perched on the stool behind the soundboard.
“What do you want me to play? Traditional violin or electric?”
“Electric.”
“Good choice.” He grabbed the candy-apple red instrument and plugged into the amp. Any woman who appreciated shred violin was on the right page. He considered using a recording with his band-mates to play along with then ditched the idea. He’d play solo for her. He grabbed the bow and went to it.
He played for almost an hour before he put the instrument down.
“You rock that thing,” she said. “I always liked the violin but I have to admit, electric is awesome.”
He came over close beside her. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I wonder if my friend has managed to get in the drummer’s pants yet.”
“Well, Alex doesn’t exactly play hard to get. My guess would be yes if she put any effort into it at all. And from what I saw, she was going for it. They’re probably in the room above the garage right now, if I know Alex. And trust me, I do.”
“Terrific.” She looked annoyed.
He stifled a smirk. Her friend was helping him out, big time. “You could kill some more time with me,” he said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what you think it does. We could go up to my bedroom and get to know each other better.”
“I’m not some groupie whore.”
Might as well throw it out there and see which way the wind took it. “I know. That’s why I want you.”
She laughed. “You’re a bad boy. Intriguing, too.” She looked him over, hot and slow. “Do you screw as good as you play violin?”
“Better.”
Her lips twitched up at the corners. “That a fact?”
He moved closer. Close enough to kiss her. “It is. I’ll make you feel good. If you’ll let me.”
“I bet you could.”
He leaned a tad closer. “I can. I want to spend the rest of the night proving it to you. I want to fuck you senseless.”
She shivered slightly and her breathing quickened.
He had her. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. She was warm and receptive. Oh yeah. He was gonna fuck the hell out of her. And she was gonna like it. She kissed back and a moment later their tongues were doing the adult version of the slip n slide.
His arms went around her waist and brought her up against him. Holding her still, he pressed into her, letting her get a good feel of what he had going on in his pants.
She grasped his shoulders then she played with his hair as they did the tongue tango. She moaned softly and rubbed against his hard-on which sent a bolt of hot desire through him. When he had to come up for air, he grabbed her hand. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs. I have a nice big bed. I’m sure it’ll be better than the floor.”
“I have no intention of having sex on this hard-ass floor. The only hard thing I’m interested in is behind those leather pants.” She quirked up the corner of her mouth in a slight smirk.
He led her down another hallway and up a curving staircase. She ogled the paintings and the few antiques he had displayed in cases at intervals along the hall.
“You have good taste in décor,” she said. “I love the burgundy and blue color scheme. Fantastic. And the antiques. I’m impressed.”
“Most of those were cast offs from my father’s home,” he said.
“Cast offs? You have to be kidding.”
“Nope. He and his wife get tired of it and he gives it to me. I think he’s trying to improve his disgusting son.”
“What’s that supposed to me?”
“He doesn’t like that I let guys do me.”
She stopped. “Wait a minute. I read somewhere that your father was a big star in England back in the eighties and nineties. Is that right?”
“Honey, my father is still a huge star. He’s on tour right now, making money out the ass while I’m here with the loser crew.”
“You guys are doing okay.”
“Not like the old farts.”
“That’s because the old farts do it better than you young shits. Sorry, but it’s true. And I don’t mean just your band, I mean all modern bands.”
“They did it their way. We want to do it ours.”
“Sorry, their way was better.”
He tugged her hand. “Maybe so, but this young pup can give you a ride in bed that the old farts can’t. They’re definitely past their prime in that department.”
“Viagra.”
For the love of God, he just wanted to fuck, not be told how his father’s generation was so much better. “Forget, my father. I’m so horny I can’t stand it any longer.”
“Poor baby. Come on and we’ll take care of that.” She let him lead her to his room without stopping to admire anything else.
“Wow. This is a nice room, for a guy.”
“You forget, I’m queer half the time. Good taste goes with the territory.”
She laughed and put her arms around his neck. “You certainly aren’t in queer mode now.” She wiggled against his cock which jerked in appreciation behind his fly.
He breathed in her scent. She wore perfume that conjured images of hot nights in exotic places. He skimmed his hands down her sides over the cool silk of her blouse and latched on to her suede covered hips. He leaned in and their lips locked in a hot kiss. He ground his hips into hers. His cock was painfully hard and his balls ached, but now that he had her in his room he wasn’t in a hurry to get in her.
He slid his hand lower, found the bottom of her skirt and eased up under it, caressing over firm thigh. He maneuvered between her legs and she widened her stance. Satin material covered her core. He pressed, feeling the heat of her delicate skin. Her breath caught.
Running his fingers over the material, he stroked back and forth with even pressure until dampness seeped through the cloth. “Ah, finally,” he said and slipped under the elastic. Her flesh was hot and wet, slick, ready for him to penetrate. He stroked upward until he found the little bud he’d sought.
He pressed and rubbed in circular motions until she kicked her head back and a long groan came out of her. He kept up the stroke until she shuddered and rocked her hips on his hand. By now he’d had all he could take.
With a growl, he grasped her skirt and worked it down over her long, silky legs, stroking as he went. She stepped out of the garment and kicked off her boots. A moment later he had her top off and her breasts bared. He bent and ran his tongue over the nipple of one perky breast and then the other. He sucked the taunt peak into his mouth and caressed the bud with his tongue until she whimpered with need.
She touched him through his pants and stroked his hard length beneath the leather. A little groan escaped him. His cock throbbed. He needed inside her, needed relief. His balls were tight. It would take absolutely nothing to make him come in his pants. It was time to get down to business, but not for Mr. Hard-on, he would have to wait a little longer.
He wanted to see her again, which meant he needed to pleasure her. No woman wanted a crappy lover in her bed. He picked her up and placed her in the center of the mattress. He kicked off his boots and climbed in with her. Gathering her in his arms, he caught her mouth in a hot kiss that quickly deepened. She was so soft and worm. He nibbled at her lip and kissed along her jaw to below her ear. He pressed a kiss to the little hollow at her throat and licked over the creamy skin.
Her nails sank into him as she urged him to move up over her.
“Not yet,” he said, even though his balls ached with his need to get in her. He kissed her neck then sucked lightly, wanting to leave a tell-tale sign that he’d had her.
She giggled. “Stop it. You’ll leave a bruise.”
“I know. I want to.”
“Everyone will see it.”
“And they’ll know I fucked you and they’ll stay away.”
“Oooh, you’re one of those.”
“Yeah, markin my territory.” He sucked hard, knowing he was bruising the hell out of her tender skin. He didn’t care. He really did want people to see it and know she’d been marked by him.
He crawled up between her bent legs and making eye contact, lowered himself to her slick, hot flesh. He licked upward, tasting her. She rewarded him with a moan. He flicked the tip of his tongue over her nub until she groaned then he licked downward until his tongue slipped inside her.
Grasping handfuls of his hair, she pulled with abandon as he penetrated her with rapid, spearing thrusts of his tongue. Her hips lifted and she gyrated on the bed, little moans seeped from her.
Jesus. He couldn’t take any more. He slid off the bed and fished a condom from his bedside table before divesting himself of his clothing. He tore open the little square and rolled the latex over his cock.
He climbed up over her and guided his cock to her opening. He pushed in with one hard stroke, going balls deep in warm, wet pussy. She surged up to meet him and the ride was on. He rode her hard and she worked with him. She braced her hands on the headboard to keep him from shoving her upward with the force of his thrusts.
She tilted the angle of her rocking hips, letting him go deeper. His grunts and her moans punctuated each inward push until they were sweat coated and straining for release.
He picked up his pace, wanting to drive her to orgasm. He rode her harder and they scooted across the bed until they were teetering on the edge. He reached between them and caressed the little bundle at the top of her sex. A half dozen strokes and she shrieked her pleasure, stiffening under him then pumping hard, working for her release.
He worked with her, going for his climax. Her contracting muscles sent him spiraling into his owe pleasure zone. He came hard then he collapsed and rolled from her. “Wow. That was fantastic,” he said and removed the condom. He dropped it onto the carpet and pulled her into his arms.
“You were fantastic,” she said and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“I want to do this again. Say tomorrow night?”
“Um, sounds nice. But I want to do it again tonight,” she said.
“And so you shall, my lovely. So you shall.”
~ Nickie Asher ~
CRIMSON available on Amazon
Copyright © 2012 Nickie Asher
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.
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