“I… guess not. But, what about…”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t need to know, just relax.”
Inside, I was in turmoil. I wanted to be a good girlfriend, and always had been, but this was Ethan Sanders for Christ’s sake! I managed to convince myself that if my boyfriend’s favourite actress was throwing herself at him, he would cheat on me in a heartbeat. The thought of that hypothetical situation was enough to break down my flimsy mental barriers and I lowered my lips back to Ethan’s, this time kissing him with absolute abandon, twirling my tongue around his.
Ethan’s hand pushed between my legs and I spread them wide, forgetting about everybody else in the room until my clearly visible panties provoked another loud cheer from the onlookers. I clamped my legs shut on Ethan’s hand with a clapping sound and broke off the kiss, mortified about what I was doing.
“Hey, don’t worry about them, Mia, they’re so high they’ll have forgotten their own names by morning. It’s just you and me here, nobody else.”
I knew it wasn’t true, but he was so calm, like this was perfectly normal. His serenity was infectious and I relaxed my legs enough for Ethan’s hand to regain its freedom of movement. I felt his hand cupping my sex through my panties and stared into his eyes as he gently rubbed at me through the soaked undergarment.
“You’re so fucking wet, Mia, I can feel your hot pussy.”
I buried my face in his neck as I savoured the feel of his hand rubbing my slick panties against my clit. With my vision cut off, I was more able to pretend that we actually were alone in the room, or better yet, on his private yacht bobbing on the ocean somewhere, maybe the black ocean from the Bareback hit single.
His smell was all around me, the musky and manly scent of a real rock star who had just belted out a two hour show in front of tens of thousands of die-hard fans. A faint wisp of cologne and soap under the more recent aroma of hot work under spotlights rounded off the picture painted by his fragrance each time I breathed in.
I spread my legs even further, lost in my illusion of privacy, and was only dimly aware of cheers and appreciative comments when Ethan pulled my panties aside and exposed my pussy to not only his fingers, but also the entire back stage crowd. They were all a million miles away, as far as I was concerned. For me, there was only Ethan, myself and, when his fingers probed between my folds and found my clit, my fast approaching orgasm.
Ethan’s skilled fingers explored my most secret depths and dragged out my slippery honey to coat my clit before rubbing all around it in circular motions. I moaned against his neck and began breathing faster, my chest heaving against him as he picked up pace, perhaps sensing how close I was to my orgasm already.
With a twist of his hand he slipped his finger back inside me and continued his assault on my little ‘go-button’ with his thumb. I couldn’t handle it anymore, the twin sensations of being penetrated by his finger and having my clit rubbed pushed me into a blissful explosion of orgasm. My juices flowed out freely around his finger as my pussy muscles contracted over and over again. I shuddered and moaned like a whore, vaguely aware of applause.
When the unbelievable sensation of my first and only rock-star-induced-orgasm faded I felt that Ethan had inserted another finger inside me and was very slowly thrusting them in and out. I sat up and looked him in the eyes, my mouth parted in an attempt to catch my breath.
“Thank you,” I whispered. It seemed like a stupid thing to say, but it was all I could think of. I meant it though, that had been absolutely out of this world.
“There’s a better way to thank me, Mia…”
“We can’t have sex…”
“I know, but why don’t you suck my cock for me? You kinda owe me, don’t you think?”
He was right, the scales were definitely tipped in my favour to the tune of two autographs and a mind-blowing orgasm, but I wasn’t sure if I could bring myself to give him a blowjob. The debate didn’t last long, I thought about the stories I could tell years from now when maybe my boyfriend and I would have split up anyway. Could I live with myself if I gave up a once in a lifetime opportunity to go down on my hero?
I slid off his lap and got on my knees between his legs, looking up into his eyes as I slowly pulled his zip down and fished around inside his pants with one hand. Reaching through the front of his boxers, I felt thick man-meat and dragged it out through the open zip. Ethan’s cock was big and growing before my very eyes.
I gave it a cautious pump up and down and saw a bead of pre-cum appear at the very tip. At the peak of my second pump I paused to spread his natural lubricant all over the head before leaning forward and sliding it past my lips and into my mouth. I stroked downwards with my hand and followed with my lips as far as I could until I felt his fattening head hit the back of my throat and I could follow no more.
I bobbed up and down, slipping his cock out of my mouth and into my hand at the top of each motion, creating a long passage for his cock to slide through. My boyfriend had told me in the past that this felt amazing, and after everything was sufficiently wet he could close his eyes and was unable to tell the difference between my hand and my mouth, it was like being deepthroated supposedly.
I turned my eyes upwards to Ethan and locked with his, it was almost as if we were having a staring contest. I never stopped sucking his dick even as he rested his head back on the couch and ran his fingers through his hair, lost in the pleasure of the blowjob. From behind I felt numerous hands exploring my pussy, removing my panties, gently stroking my clit, spreading my lips, occasionally plunging a finger as deep as it could go. I didn’t care, my whole world was revolving around the spectacular cock that I was going to make cum all over my hand and in my mouth.
At least, I thought I didn’t care, but as I kept on slurping on Ethan’s hard dick and people kept toying with my pussy, I felt a familiar ball of pleasure beginning to grow in my belly, being fed by each stroke of an anonymous onlooker’s finger on my clit. Ethan raised his head and looked down at my flushed face still sucking at him.
“I’ve got to fuck you, Mia…”
All thoughts of my boyfriend were gone by this stage and I popped his cock out of my mouth and nodded enthusiastically, grabbing my handbag while Ethan called for a table. A couple guys dragged one over and Ethan lifted me up and sat me on the edge with my legs dangling over the side. Ethan pushed me backwards as I found what I was looking for in my handbag and held it out to him.
“What’s this?”
“A condom?”
“I’m sorry Mia, you must have this band confused with another one. The world famous rock band ‘Rain Jacket’ is playing next weekend. Tonight is Bareback.”
“But I’m not on the pill!”
“Don’t you worry about that, I’m gonna pull out and cum all over that pretty little girl-next-door face of yours. What do you say?”
A chant of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ was building up in the crowd of people surrounding the table as Ethan threw the condom over his shoulder and waited for my answer. It was so risky, but I wasn’t that likely to get pregnant if he pulled out, was I? I bit my lip with indecision, I wanted him so bad. Looking to my side I saw the bitch who called me a little girl with a smirk on her face and that sealed the deal. Rock ‘n’ roll, baby.
I leaned back, placed my feet on the edge of the table and spread my legs, gratified by yet another cheer from everybody in the room. Ethan grasped his shaft and pointed it towards my waiting slit. I felt the fat head of his cock push my slippery folds aside, which stretched to accommodate him. His was the fattest erection ever to invade my tunnel and I squirmed at the sheer size of it, panting and gripping the sides of the table.
Thankfully I was already ludicrously wet from my previous climax and felt inch after inch of his girth penetrate me until his hips hit the bottom of my thighs and he began fucking me hard and fast. The table began scooting across the floor with each powerful thrust of the lead singer’s rigid dick until several people grabbed on and kept it steady.
Hands were all over me, squeezing my breasts, tracing fingers on my taut navel, stroking my face. I was overwhelmed with all the attention I was getting. The greatest rock band in the world was in the room, but all eyes were on me. I began moaning harder and louder, my pleasured sounds rising over the general cheer and rhythmic ‘slap, slap, slap’ of mine and Ethan’s bodies meeting over and over again.
My back arched when my climax hit me as hard as the guitar riff on Black Ocean Riot and I screamed out expletives and affirmatives as the sensations blew away the last meagre remnants of my modesty. In that moment I didn’t care at all how many people were watching me cum or how many people would soon see a huge load of semen unleashed on my body. All that mattered was the ecstasy.
My own cries and moans died down, overtaken in volume by a chant that the crowd had taken up. It sounded like ‘Cum in her! Cum in her! Cum in her!’ but that wasn’t right at all!
“On! On me!” I yelled, but nobody took any notice, least of all Ethan, whose face was contorted in the early stages of his own orgasm.
“Green card, here I come!” he half yelled and half grunted, pushing his fat cock as deep into my fertile depths as he possibly could. I felt blast after blast of hot sperm hitting my cervix and pussy walls and gripped the table as hard as I could. It was too late to stop him, and it felt so fucking good anyway. I concentrated on the wonderful feeling, caught in the moment without a care for the pregnancy that would probably result from the deluge of little swimmers so deep inside me.
Ethan braced his hands on the table and thrust a few more times, draining the last of his creamy semen into my pussy before extracting himself and stepping back from the table. Some random guy stepped up to take Ethan’s place but I put my foot on his chest, pushed him away and he went sprawling to the amusement of everybody else in the room. What did he think this was?
I sat up and looked for my panties. They were nowhere to be found but my handbag was right there on the table with me, I grabbed it and stood up, looking for Ethan. He was back on the couch and the bimbo from earlier had her lips wrapped around his cock, cleaning him of our combined sex juices. He saw me watching and smiled.
“I’m going to write a fucking song about you, Mia!”
I wanted to be angry… but found myself smiling back at the thought of being immortalised like other women with famous songs about them. I hoped he did it, there was little doubt about whether the song would last the test of time or not. This was Bareback, after all. Rock ‘n’ Roll, baby.
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Bred by the Rock Star 2
Description
Unable to get backstage after Bareback's sell out show to a packed stadium, Olivia puts a drastic plan into action. When she flashes the tour bus and says "I'd do anything for Bareback!" Dan Winchester, drummer, shows her what rock and roll is all about.
Kinks/Sub-Genres
Barely Legal, Exhibitionism, Breeding, Reluctant, Rock Star
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*****
What would you do to meet the greatest rock band in the world? It’s an interesting question that I asked myself after Bareback played to a packed out stadium in my city. I’d lined up for hours to get tickets and basically been on the edge of my seat for months waiting for them to show up. The night they played I did my level best to get backstage but this mind-bendingly huge man guarding the door said he wasn’t letting any more people through. He looked like he could have thrown me all the way back to my own house like a paper airplane so I didn’t dare push the issue.
I made my way to where their tour bus was parked. There was a short walk between the stadium and the custom painted vehicle and people, mostly scantily dressed girls like me and a few drunk guys, were already starting to crowd the area. The numbers swelled with people waiting for their turn to maybe lay a finger on a rock god, or perhaps get something signed. My heart sank, I hadn’t thought that quite so many people would have the same idea.
The crowd continued to increase in size as we all waited for the members of the three piece rock band to emerge. I wondered what rock stars get up to back stage these days anyway, what could take so long? I looked around at the other girls there and began to feel a bit self-conscious, so many of them were just gob-smackingly beautiful. I bet some of them were practically professional groupies, they probably had a euphemism for it but that would be what it boiled down to.
They probably had a few tricks they used to get themselves noticed but being only eighteen this was the first rock concert I’d been to, of a major international band anyway. As far as I could tell, the only things I had going for me were my breasts, which were large and full of the firmness of youth. These assets had made me mighty popular throughout my school years and that trend had continued through my first semester of college. Even so, I only seemed to fall within the average range in this particular sample population.
Suddenly, after what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, everybody started screaming and yelling. It was crazy and a bit scary, so loud that I would have thought the stadium was collapsing on top of us if not for the fact that the crowd was surging towards it rather than away. My disorientation was short-lived, there was only one thing that this could possibly mean, Bareback was heading to the tour bus! I wanted to use my hands to cover my ears, the high-pitched scream of all the girls must have been almost enough to shatter all the windows on the bus, but I needed them to shove people out of the way as I clawed a path to the front ranks.
I was still several rows back when I caught sight of them myself. Ethan, Noah and Daniel. Singer, guitarist and drummer respectively were being forced towards the bus led by the giant from the backstage door, now assisted by normal sized guards on each side of the band. The crowd was too dense, too loud, I wasn’t going to make it. My screams joined the multitude of others and were lost in the ocean of noise.
I changed tactics and started pushing sideways, towards the bus rather than towards the band. With comparatively little difficulty I got right beside the massive vehicle, clinging on to the hope that maybe they would reach out the windows and shake hands, sign autographs, anything! To my left I saw the security guards shepherd the band, roadies and whoever else was allowed on the tour bus, which quickly filled up and to my dismay the engine started.
I looked up at the window and to my astonishment saw Dan Winchester, Bareback’s drummer, looking out at the crowd mobbing the bus with a smile, talking to the people around him. Desperate times call for the big guns and without much thought I bunched up the bottom of my shirt, hooked my fingers under the wire of my bra and lifted up, flashing the bus with my impressive chest. Quicker than you would have thought possible, phones with built in cameras were all pointed in my direction and the night was filled with even more bursts of light as Bareback fans made souvenirs of my teen breasts and hopeful upturned face.
The bus began creeping forward and I let out a wordless yell of frustration, pulling my shirt back down. The wheels had barely made a single revolution before the driver applied the brakes. I could see Daniel Winchester yelling something at somebody towards the front while poin
ting out the window. With a hiss of hydraulics the doors opened huge man from the backstage area stepped out and waded through the crowd like so much long grass until he stood in front of me.
“You must really like Bareback,” he said.
“I’d do anything for Bareback!” I replied.
“Well, I’ve got a lonely drummer boy thousands of miles from home who thinks you might be fun company, want to get on this bus?”
“Yeah!”
I thought he would simply lead the way back through the crowd, but instead he picked me up as if I weighed little more than a pack of gum and strode to the front of the bus again like he was going for a quiet Sunday stroll instead of directly through a near-crazed throng of rock ‘n’ roll fans. The doors opened with another hydraulic hiss and we stepped on before he placed me on my feet again.
The bored-looking driver gave me a cursory glance before setting the bus in motion again and I stumbled down the centre aisle. To my left I saw Noah Pierson sitting by himself and just about plonked myself next to him with a squeal of delight. He looked absolutely lost in his own world though, deep in thought and oblivious to the party going on around him, so I walked past and somebody handed me a beer.
The back of the bus was a dark mass of people drinking and doing their best to dance to the music blasting out of the vehicle’s built-in sound system. I forced my way through, trying to find the ‘lonely drummer boy’ before he found somebody else. It wasn’t easy going, the crowd in the bus was at least as frantic as the one that had been waiting outside the stadium and this combined with being on a moving vehicle made for some precariously balanced moments.
Suddenly from my right a strong arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me on to a waiting lap. I struggled momentarily until I saw it was none other than Dan Winchester who had nabbed me and I wrapped my arms around his neck, squashing my breasts against him. I was lost in the embrace, all I could think about was how very close I was to a living legend. I pulled back, smiling, half so we could talk and half so I could just make sure it was really him.
Take All of It September 2019 Page 56