Before Claire, my life was shit with little bits of pleasure.
That was all. ~ Noah
I am playing my last gig in the city with my band. The guys are moving on without me, but I promise I will be back. I have to get through my senior year of high school in a new town, living with my aunt and uncle. Then I will be back where we can hopefully pick right back up from where we left off.
Ben, the second guitarist and the guy who is replacing me while I am gone, says our farewells to the crowd after we finish our last set, asking everyone to give me a huge good-bye until I come back next year. He knows I hate attention like that.
The crowd in the small café by day, art gallery, night club—whatever the place wants to be—gives a roar of applause and cheers. I take off my guitar, ignoring the crowd and go back to the lounge area in the back meant for performers. Sherry or Carrie or Terry—I can’t remember her name—is waiting for me when I get back there. I ignore her as I place my guitar in its case and wipe her down. I always protect my guitar.
I feel what’s-her-name wrap her arm around my shoulders before she asks seductively, “How about a farewell fuck?” She nips my earlobe.
“Lock the door,” is my reply as I finish zipping up the guitar case. I’m a man of few words. Probably because of my upbringing.
I turn around when I hear the lock click in place, and then meet Sherry/Carrie/Terry/whoever next to the couch. I give her a few minutes of clinging to me, groping my arms, my shoulders, my hair; her cloying, cheap perfume and cigarette breath suffocating me, before she drops to her knees in front of me.
Her black dress is like a second skin on her, pushing her fake breasts high up her chest. Her auburn hair lies flat down her back. What’s-her-name is in her mid-twenties, at least six years older than me, with a rockin’ body: full tits, full ass, slim waist, legs made for sin. Her dull brown eyes look up at me as a salacious smile spreads across her face.
She is another groupie, one of many. Us—the band—have made a name for ourselves, so we have quite a few of them hoping we get signed so they can go on tour with us. Like I would let that happen.
This is her favorite part of sex—giving head. I don’t know what it is about this that gets her off so much, but I’m not complaining. And she doesn’t expect me to return the favor, which thank God, because I’m not putting my mouth anywhere near her pussy where the rest of my band has been. I love pussy as much as much as the next guy, but I want to know where it has been before I put my mouth there. I mean, you wouldn’t eat garbage out of a trash can when you know someone shit in it, would you?
She unlatches my belt, pops the buttons of my favorite worn and torn jeans, and then pulls my cock out. I watch her suck it down her throat and pull back. She groans when she takes me all the way in, causing delicious vibrations along my cock.
My legs start to weaken, and I can feel the tingles, telling me I’m about to lose my load when the banging and cursing starts at the door. The band apparently wants in, but I’m not done, and I don’t fuck in public like they do. Those guys would do anything and everything in front of anyone and anywhere. I have seen them do the same girl, one right after the other, right here in this very room. Not my style.
Knowing the guys want in to put their own equipment away and start their own party—something I will be leaving for—I grab the back of Sherry’s head and start pushing her faster. She latches on like a vacuum, gripping me with her lips, humming her appreciation at my actions. God, it’s so hot to watch.
She spreads her legs until her dress slides up her hips, and I see, as usual, she has gone sans panties. I watch as she starts to touch herself, her fingers disappearing as her palm moves over her clit. The visual of that combined with my cock disappearing into her mouth and the feeling of her sucking me off makes my balls tighten and my legs shake. Then I’m pouring into her mouth.
She swallows then hands me a condom from her cleavage. The woman—I give up on remembering her name—slides her tight dress up to her waist. I stare at her nakedness while tearing open the condom wrapper and wrapping myself up, still hard and ready for round two, our usual routine.
Taking my shirt off and then dropping my boxers and pants, we start.
I use my free hand to grip her breast as I plunge into her hard. It feels so good, but I’m not going to come again so soon. Then her knees start to shake as I continue to pound into her, so I lower her over the arm of the couch.
Lowering my hands from her hips to grip her ass, the position isn’t working for me, so I push her up the couch and lose my shoes, pants, and boxers, crawling over the arm of the couch to the other side where she grips the opposite arm, her body bowed, ass in the air. I grip her long, flat-ironed hair, wrapping it around my fist before I pull her head back while simultaneously thrusting back into her. We both groan at the contact.
After fucking her on the couch, a chair, and her bent over a table, I pull out of her, take off the condom, tying it off at the end, before going back to the couch where I start grabbing my clothes from off the floor.
Sherry/Terry/whoever has already lowered her dress back down and is straightening the top part as she comes over and tries to kiss me as I pull up my boxers and pants in one swoop.
“When do you get back?” she asks, handing me my discarded shirt.
I take it from her and answer, “Next summer.”
She gives me a sad smile, pouty. “I’ll miss you.”
I don’t answer her, because I won’t miss her. I can’t even remember her name. I would say I will miss the sex, but to me, it’s the same with everyone.
I pull on my shirt, tie up my boots, and then grab my guitar and head out the back door that leads to the alleyway. I know Terry or whoever she is will let the guys into the back room. I don’t want to say good-bye to them, anyway. I hate good-byes. Too much drama and everyone expects you to say something. That’s not me.
Instead, I sneak away, heading home to pack before I’m shipped off to a place that begins the story of how I fell in love, just to screw everything up.