Daphne Vs. Daddy

by Mona Cox

  Of course, the owner was all over this idea, ‘cause people want to watch me in action, if only in the hopes that I’ll pull a repeat performance and start cock-waving again. No way. I’ve asked my doctor if I can move the pill-popping to after my shows each night, so that by the time I’m supposed to be up on stage, I’m fully with it again, and he regretfully agreed. Apparently, these pills work best if taken at seven o’clock at night, but let’s be honest—if I don’t quit pulling a Slayer, I won’t have a career anymore and I might as well go back to drinking all the time. If they aren’t quite as potent if taken at one in the morning, then I’ll just have to rely on self control to make up the difference.

  As we make our way through the crowd, my band and back-up singers helping me lug equipment up to the stage, I see something out of the corner of my eye. Or rather, someone.

  I don’t know why she caught my eye because there’s a stupid amount of people in here—if the fire marshal gets called, we’ll get shut down so fast, my band is gonna get whiplash from it—and so I really shouldn’t have seen her. She shouldn’t have stood out to me.

  But, it’s Gisele. Apparently, I now have a Gisele sensor that goes off every time she’s in my general vicinity. I can see the flash of her blonde hair in the spotlights skimming over the crowd, and then I hear her laugh tinkle out, over the crowd.

  Which, to be honest, I also shouldn’t have heard. It’s so damn noisy in here, I’m not sure if I’d be able to hear fireworks go off.

  But I can hear her laughter.

  Dammit, I have it bad.

  As we set up our equipment, the crowd grows restless, the cheers and heckling getting louder, and more people push their way into the already overcrowded bar. I think back to the interview, where I’d shoved two pills into my mouth in front of her. I know that I was thinking about her amazing rack as I was starting to go under, but just because I thought about it doesn’t mean I actually did anything about it. It does mean that I would’ve been willing if she’d wanted to try something, though.

  But let’s be honest: If I died, Gisele would still give me a boner. A rock star ghost boner—I can just imagine that hitting the tabloids …

  Finally, with the equipment ready to go, I grab the mic and we start jamming. Except, when we get to our one and only love ballad in our set, I substitute “Gisele” in for “Jamie,” the original chick I wrote the song for … who I later discovered fucking a technician backstage during a concert. I’ve hated this song ever since ‘cause damn is it hard to be romantic about a chick you despise, but tonight? I suddenly found it real easy to let the words roll off my tongue. It's hard to tell in the darkness of the bar, but I think I can detect a blush on Gisele's cheeks, which of course just means that I belt the words out even louder, staring straight at her while I do it.

  Oh yeah, she’s blushing hardcore right now. All of her friends are jabbing her in the ribs and she’s just sitting there with a stupidly happy grin on her face and I’m grinning back and I swear to God, we’re the only two people in that room.

  Okay, so the fire marshal probably wouldn’t agree with that assessment, but we’re the only two people in the room who matter.

  Finally, the long song ends and after two more fast-paced dance songs, our set is done. We wrap up, but I don’t head out the back with the rest of my band. People are drifting out of the bar and back into the streets, so there’s a little more elbow room in the place, which is nice for those of us who like to breathe along with getting drunk.

  I slip into the bathroom for a minute, and check my phone. Dammit, it’s almost one in the morning. I have to take my pill now; I can’t push it any further than I already have. With a sigh, I pop one back. Oh the irony; if a reporter caught me popping pills in the bathroom, no doubt that picture would be on the front page of every gossip rag in the country, below a screaming headline about an out-of-control rock star.

  I wait for a minute longer to let the fervor in the main bar die down, and then head back out … toward Gisele. I make my way through the crowd, careful not to make eye contact with anyone or draw attention to myself in any way. The best camouflage is to just pretend that you belong there. Most people don’t look twice.

  I pop up next to her elbow. “Hey, Gisele,” I whisper in her very yummy-looking ear.

  “Oh my God!” she yells, spinning in a circle and spilling her drink in the process. Hmmm … is that a bourbon? Surely Gisele doesn’t drink bourbon. No one drinks bourbon, other than me. Well, I used to.

  God, that smells good. I hope my pill kicks in soon because my willpower is starting to wane.

  “Hi,” I say, grinning. She’s panting, her hand over her magnificent chest, and then she starts laughing.

  “How are you here and not mobbed by a bazillion fans?” she asks once she stops laughing, looking around the crowd milling about. No one seems to be paying the slightest bit of attention to me.

  I just shrug. “No one expects me to come out here in the crowd. For some reason, when you’re a celebrity, everyone thinks that you no longer want to just hang out with people and chill. They expect me to run out the back door as soon as the set is over.”

  “The rest of your band did,” she points out, logically.

  “Yeah, that’s true,” I admit cheerfully. “Which just made it even easier for me to come hang out with you. No one was expecting it.”

  She looks at me skeptically and I can tell she’s trying to do the math in her head—am I really interested in her?

  Yeah. I am. I don’t want to freak her out though.

  I really, really wish I could remember what happened the other day. That tantalizing question plays around the edges of my mind. Did we fuck? Did she run her gorgeous mouth up and down my cock? Did I pull her hair as I fucked her from behind?

  I don’t know.

  And that is slowly driving me insane.

  “Hold on, you’re in a bar,” Gisele says, looking at me, wide-eyed with fear. “Aren’t you tempted to drink? Should we leave? I don’t want you to fall off the wagon just because of me!”

  I shrug. “With the pills, it’s not hard to keep it under control. I can tell you’re drinking a bourbon—nice choice by the way—and so yeah, the urge is there, but I’m fine. I can deal with a little temptat—”

  100

  Gisele

  “It’s kinda creepy,” Kathy says, staring at him. He grins vacantly back at her.

  “Don’t be like that,” he says cajolingly. “I can’t help staring at cute girls.”

  Kathy giggles, and my hackles on the back of my neck rise. Hold on, why is he flirting with my best friend? He should be flirting with me!

  I grab his arm possessively. “You looked really good up there on stage tonight,” I say. Which is the truth, but I’ll admit it – I am telling him because I want him paying attention to me.

  He looks up at me with soulful eyes and whispers, “You look good every night.” I try not to roll my eyes. It’s a pretty OTT thing to say and I know that he doesn’t mean it, his drugged-up mind is saying it, but a tiny part of me gets a little shiver of delight at his words.

  I didn’t realize I was such a sucker for cheesy lines until now. Or maybe it’s just cheesy lines being said by Stone, I don’t know.

  “Well, we should get going,” Ashley says loudly, pulling on Kathy’s arm, yanking her into an upright position. “Good to meet you, Stone.” She drags Kathy off over Kathy’s protestations, and I silently thank Ashley for that. I’ll have to do something amazing for her as a thank-you gift later.

  “Where are they going in such a hurry?” Stone asks, staring at their retreating forms, Kathy turning back and waving at him as Ashley drags her away. She, on the other hand, is going to get coal in her Christmas stocking this year, if I have to track down a coal distributor myself.

  “Oh, just had to head home,” I say lightly, waving my hand in the air dismissively. “So your pill – did you take it after the show?”

  “I did!” he exclaims, s
urprised. “How did you know?”

  “Just a guess,” I say with a naughty grin. “So Stone, whaddya say about visiting those bathrooms again tonight?”

  “You have to go pee?” he asks.

  “Nope, but I think you’re going to like what I do have in mind. C’mon.”

  I’m still reeling from that performance. Stone, live, singing like that? I mean, I like music. I like music a lot and I’ve been to a lot of gigs. Huge concerts, intimate little performances at Chateau Marmont. But this? Stone? Singing that song, and putting my name in it, and looking at me. In a really obvious way looking at me so that everyone in that room knew that he was talking about me. Singing those lyrics to me? My heart hasn’t stopped racing since. This all feels so surreal. It's almost like I’m in a very strange, foggy dream instead of really present in this club. The dark mood lighting and eerie feel that all clubs have, it really doesn’t help with that, you know?

  But after that performance Stone just gave, I’m feeling emboldened. I want to take a risk, take a chance, and take a leap down the rabbit hole and see where it leads. Doubts weren't what got me anywhere with Stone in that hotel room. That was pure going with the flow, something I almost never do because I'm a control freak in just about every aspect of my life. But being with Stone forced me to let go ... and it wasn't that bad at all.

  Who am I kidding? It's the most exhilarating feeling in the world.

  I couldn’t help but get coy with him for just a moment. Like, how does he not know what I’m up to right now when I tell him we’re going to the bathroom? He’s following me and his hand is in mine and I look at him … holy shit I've never seen a man so good looking. Stone's body takes my breath away. What he does to my body makes my heart beat so damn fast, I could be having a heart attack. I take his hand and pull him back to the bathrooms. I feel like there's a rising tide of fire in my veins. I'm a pretty intense gal but this feels like the boldest, most confident move I've made. I can't help but go crazy for Stone. I guess I'm letting that Guitar God thing go to my brain because I'm having a total slut moment. I drag him back to the bathrooms.

  That's right, I'm going to fuck a rock star in a club bathroom. I'm thinking about the wild things we did the other night at his room at the W. I'm thinking about how he sang with every drop of soul he could in his voice, he even looked at me, sang my name ... of course my panties are so fucking wet. I need him, now, and something as simple as going somewhere else is too much to be concerned with. How could I think about anything else? I give his hand a little squeeze in mine as we work through the crowd and get to the bathrooms. I'm a little surprised that people don't seem to immediately recognize him. They aren't paying close attention or they would—but he was right. People don't expect him to be out here. I certainly didn't. I didn't expect anything about how he sang to me. I didn't expect to feel the way that I do right now, or to be able to act on it.

  But we're at the bathrooms.

  The big bad rock star doesn't realize until just now that after he literally serenaded me in a room full of people that I'm taking him back here to the bathrooms to have wild sex with him. He's about to get a much better picture though.

  "So, Gisele,” Stone says my name slowly like he’s tasting it. I can tell by the look in his eyes that I know that he knows exactly what we’re about to do. “You had something very particular in mind?" Stone says with an almost silly grin across his handsome face. This teasing will get him everywhere with me, I know. Well, we're already clear on that though, aren't we? I mean, I can't imagine anything other than giving him everything my body can handle. Stone takes me to new places when we're together. He did before ... and the way I feel now, it makes my breathing go ragged just thinking about it.

  I mean, that cock ...it's big. Beautiful. Delicious. And he knows exactly how to use it. When Stone takes my breath away, it's because that monster cock is deep in my throat or buried in my pussy ... or I'm thinking about the next time it will be.

  I look at him and I’m grinning widely too. How can I not with that smile? "Well, I didn't need an escort to go pee," I say, unable to suppress a giggle. It seems so strange to me, to be able to be coy like this and also have so much sexual tension coursing through my veins. He's such an animal during sex, yet he's this sweet fun, guy.

  "I guess not." Stone's eyes take mine in as I pull him into a stall. There's a lusty gaze in his eyes that I recognize from before, and I’m thrilled because that experience with him in his hotel room was like nothing I had ever experienced before in my life. I don’t know what exactly is going on in that head of his, but I know that I want to follow wherever his dirty mind leads. "You want me to fuck you, beautiful girl?" Stone presses my back into the wall of this stall. We're in the last one so we have a wall and not just the stall walls to contend with.

  Sure, Stone has cheesy lines. And calling me beautiful like this may also be cheesy. But after how he sang tonight, singing a song with my name in it, looking at me, coming into the crowd and hanging out with me? I want all the cheesiness that I can handle. Stone has me totally hung up on him in the worst way. Or is it the best? The thrill running through me now says that it's the best way to feel.

  "Yeah, Stone," I say. I feel my eyelids get heavy, lust pulling me under. My lips part slightly and I'm hyper aware of my breathing. If Stone is an animal in bed, then I become his prey. I can feel desire completely taking over every cell in my body. I'm aching for his touch. "I want you to fuck me. Fuck me hard, right here in this bathroom stall in this club."

  "Right after I just sang for you, huh?" he says, every bit as smug as he can manage.

  I lift my hands up and wrap them around his neck. He hikes up my dress to get access to me. I hitch my leg up some to help him. I can't wait another second longer to have Stone deep in my pussy. If he doesn't want to tease me like he did before, I have to seize the moment because my body is on fire for him.

  Moaning, I shut my eyes in anticipation, blinking them back open because I don't want to miss a thing.

  Taking in the sensual view of Stone touching my pussy just enough to make me tremble, I see Stone rub his knuckles over my panties. Tantalizingly slow, he brushes against my sensitive folds. Arousal blooms wet on the cotton fabric, betraying just how much of an effect he's having on me. I crave his touch. Propriety and reason have no say in this moment. I'm aching for his touch and Stone knows this. I'm sucking in my lower lip and he's smiling wider by the second. My mouth goes dry and I start to pant, and still he just runs his knuckles over my pussy. I'm shaking with need and he's taking the slow train to fuck me town. But after the animal he unleashed before, when we fucked in the hotel? I'm resisting the urge to beg for two reasons. One, I don't want to poke the bear. I don't want further torment him should he slow his roll even further because of my insistence. Two, I trust that Stone has a high-level degree in the art, the business, and the science of how to fuck me in the most satisfying, heart-racing, blood-pumping way. Stone knows exactly why he's doing this to me, and I trust his teasing to lead to exactly what I want.

  Stone takes his hand away and runs his knuckles under his nose. "I can't wait any longer to be deep in that pussy. You smell like heaven, Gisele," Stone says, and he licks his knuckles. "I'm going to own that pussy. I'm going to fuck you so hard you wanna scream, and you're going to bury your face in me so that I can feel your whole body vibrate while I dive into you." The way he says those naughty words, looking me right in the eyes, melts me right on the spot. I'm so fucking wet for him and I need everything he's offering.

  Licking my lips, I nod in acquiescence and excitement. Stone's wicked mind could endlessly surprise me. I never know what filthy thing is on his mind. And that fucking thrills me. I'm along for whatever wicked ride he puts on the table.

  Or the bathroom stall, as it were. I would fuck Stone anywhere. At this point, if we hadn't made it to the bathroom yet, I would've pulled my panties to the side and bent over in front of him on the dance floor. That's how badly I need his cock i
n my pussy.

  Tasting his skin while he fucks me is a kind of primal delight. And Stone is right when he says vibrate. When that massive cock bottoms out into my pussy and his balls are slapping against my ass, my pussy is going to strangle his cock and my whole body will shake. Screaming against his skin, the salt of his sweat and the masculine musk of his body on my tongue? My mouth is watering at the idea. I need to taste his sweat. I need to feel his cock take over every inch of my pussy. I need to scream against his skin and let every shiver lead to him fucking me deeper.

  Stone tears my panties off, wadding them up into a ball and shoving them down his pants pocket. He undoes his pants, and brings that massive fuck rod right up to my pussy and strokes my slippery folds with it. The teasing makes me moan. Makes me want to beg.

  I can't take it any longer. I want to beg. My lower lip trembles and I look at him. His eyes are full of desire and he slides his cock between my folds.

  I cry out at the sensation of his throbbing hot cock sinking into my pussy. I rock my hips and take him deeper. Stone's hands dig into my hips, clutching me and pulling me down on him with an instant ferocity, his own need matching mine. We're groaning, sighing, bouncing off each other. Every delicious slide of his cock deep into my pussy brings us higher and higher toward the most incredible sensations that I've ever experienced. His massive cock fills up every inch in a way that nothing else could. I'm shivering and trembling and taking every inch, and he keeps fucking harder and deeper into me. He's slamming that huge cock up in my pussy so hard that we both shudder with delight at the ecstasy of him hitting me so deep. My pussy swallows up every inch of that massive, incredible cock, though. Every second he goes deeper in me, the pleasure expands between us. We're hot, sweating bodies slamming into each other. Nothing else exists in the world, just the two of us. My whole body feels like an extension of my pussy, made to take his cock again and again.