He pumped and pumped and said,
“Ah, yeah. Oh, yeah. Good girl. Fucking good. More like that. Yeah. Good fucking girl,”
His grip on my hair pushed my head even faster and harder. The base of his cock swelled and the swelling rolled over my lips. It rocketed up the length of him. then he began to burst. He shot gushes of hot, thick cum into my mouth.
He pumped into my throat, so much that it slathered in my mouth. All round his cock, it dribbled out of my lips onto his leathers. He scooped a glob on his fingers, pulled out his cock, and shoved it between my lips. I sucked it off, licked his fingers and gulped it all down.
He looked into my face, held my chin in his hand and said,
“Yeah, baby. Good girl.”
There was no way to know who or how many people had been able to catch the back seat show, and I hadn’t been paying much attention to where we were. I looked around in a daze. The side windows were dark tinted, though the windshield was clear.
I couldn’t focus, or even care what was going on outside, and I felt like the queen of the world as his arm slipped around my waist, and he cupped my breast.
We were headed across a large, dark, crowded parking lot, full of long trucks. I saw ahead the lights of the football stadium, and heard a big roar go up in the distance. I saw a smile sneak across Blaze’s face, and I knew he had the same thought that I did. I said,
“Well, I got a big shout for my blowjob,”
He smiled and said, “You definitely deserved it.”
We pulled up among a mess of trucks, trailers and limos, guys milling around. As we climbed out of the car, I was breathless, and the cool night air blew on and around every hot part of me. And I stood taller, wider, more proud than I remember since… since I can remember. I thought of daddy saying,
“Just be who you are, Lucy. You can’t go wrong.”
Stepping out at Blaze’s side into the night arc lamps in this throng of burly guys, I felt like I was that girl. Maybe for the first time.
People turned to give Blaze a wave or a ‘hey.’ We walked up some steps to a door manned by two security guards, who he greeted like old buddies. He inclined his head toward me and told them,
“White.”
I didn’t know what it was supposed to mean, but they seemed very impressed. On of them went inside and came back with a white wristband. He said to Blaze,
“Name?”
Blaze said,
“Nah, just triple-A.”
Chapter Seven
THE GUARD WROTE ‘AAA’ on the wristband and fastened it onto my arm. Blaze pulled me behind him up more steps and through the door into the cavern of darkness.
Ahead of us were distant lights and a huge, echoing sound. It was hard to make out at first but, as we stepped around cases and scaffolding, past the backs of people, mostly men, all facing the way we were going, as we climbed a short set of steps towards the lights and the sound.
I recognized the song. It was Away from my Window. We were backstage at the Organ Grinders concert. More men greeted Blaze and slapped him on the back as we went up another set of metal steps.
Shafts of light dazzled me as we reached the level of the stage. We approached the light from the darkness at one side and I saw Chainsaw Babbage through the drapes, not fifteen feet away, beating on his guitar that looked like a chainsaw, and yelling the chorus into the mic. The chorus that had the whole world punching the air.
“Get that monkey, OUTA HERE!”
When we were right at the wings, almost on the stage, Chainsaw looked over and waved to Blaze, and he held up one finger. Blaze showed him one finger back, and they both laughed.
Without a word, Blaze turned me to face the wall and pushed me so I had my hands on it. The smoky, golden boy voice came through my hair and I felt as much as heard him say,
“Do much anal?”
My eyes widened and I said,
“None,”
As he undid my jeans, he chuckled and said,
“This is all going to be a regular university for you, isn’t it.”
Now? Here? It was true I had never done that before. I’d thought about it often enough. I think that most girls do, but a lot of girls say they don’t so who knows. The only boy who ever really tried, though, got so turned on between my bouncy buttocks, he came outside on my ass and it was game over.
The weight and the heat of Blaze’s hard body was behind me, overwhelming me. His scent was hot and I was enveloped in it. If we moved a couple of feet to my right, we would have been out in front of the lights and who-knew-how many thousands of people. I wondered if that was his plan. To have me. Out there. Out on the stage.
The idea was ridiculous. But still the thought turned me on so much that I shook from head to foot. Blaze worked my jeans down and he dragged and pulled my panties down to the tops of my thighs.
With one hand he held my throat and massaged my breasts. The fingers of the other hand slipped between the cheeks of my ass.
When he slipped all the way along, up between my thighs, all the way forward to push on my clit, my feet left the ground. My forearms and the sides of my fists banged on the black backstage wall. I was simultaneously turned on and terrified, in about equal measure. My heart hammered, my mouth dried and my breath stuck in my throat.
His strong middle finger slid back up between my buttocks and around my little virgin ass. I tried to relax it, but shudders and spasms coursed all the way through my body. I couldn’t coordinate.
I yelped as he slipped his finger inside. I felt my juice welling and it began starting to trickle hot down the inside of my thigh. He pushed inside and all of my sensations swirled and spun like a rotating chorus.
Then two fingers widened my ass. He didn’t wait. The pain was excruciating. My thighs and my knees shook and spasmed and my feet pattered on the floor. I had never enjoyed pain before. The overwhelming shock and surprise washed over me at the same time as a floodgate orgasm. I lurched forward. My head slammed forward. I would have cracked it on the wall if I hadn’t gotten my arm in the way.
Cruel and relentless, I heard his grating chuckle as he slid his fingers in and out. My mouth stretched and my throat clamped on a wordless, soundless scream as he pushed his fingers deeper and spread them apart.
I relaxed as much as I could but I couldn’t get the timing. Then there were three fingers shoving in. It could have been a telegraph pole at that point. My feet stamped.
I bit into my forearm. My hips spread as much as I could make them. The pain was unbearably wonderful. Right away, three fingers and a thumb slid up and spread inside me. My ass burned raw and my buttocks trembled. He shoved deeper. It felt like his whole hand burrowed into my soft ass.
As the song finished, the crowd was yelling and the stamp of their feet was like thunder. My feet were on tiptoe and I hopped from one to the other off the ground. Blaze pushed so my weight was all on my ass and on his hand. As the crowd leapt up and yelled, he pulled out and I crumpled to the floor, my eyes and my pussy both streaming.
The shouts and applause were still deafening. Chainsaw made a mock frown and he looked over into the wings where I was collapsed
Into the mic, he shouted, “Anybody hear all that shouting from back there?”
The roar of approval from the crowd grew louder and stronger. The stage shook beneath me. Chainsaw grinned at Blaze and said,
“Guess you’re all revved up now, right?”
Another cheer. Blaze had a grin all the way across his face. He pulled me up and took me by the hand. Without looking back, he pulled me out onto the stage with him.
The crowd shouted, stamped and yelled as he strutted out. I had no idea what to do and my jeans were down around my crotch. He strapped on a guitar. He and the band tore and slewed into Lovelace Lies Bleeding. It seemed appropriate.
Confused and quivering on the stage, my thighs trembled so much I could hardly stand. So, I danced. Behind my back I hiked my panties back up, although they were soa
king wet, bunched and rolled up like a string.
They wedged in the crack of my ass. I’d meant to haul my jeans back up, too, but my pussy was covered – just – and as I spun, the crowd whooped at the sight of my bare cheeks.
Blaze threw lightning flashes of smiles at me. He chugged the electric riff of that killer song. We were in front of maybe twenty thousand people, but his face said that he was playing the song just for me. Each time his eye sought me out there in the splashing colored lights, a flash of pure thrill shot through me, from my tightening thighs right up to my throat.
He threw me a couple of looks in his big guitar solo. Then, as I danced, he followed me. I made teasing moves to back away. He followed, strutting after me. Then I leaned toward him and his body sloped as he backed away. It was all spontaneous, but it felt natural.
We danced. Threw shapes. Strutted back and forth across the stage. The two of us co-ordinated as though we’d been choreographed. The moves seemed to flow like we’d rehearsed the routine for a month.
At the climax of the solo, he hoisted the head of the guitar up into the air. As he hammered into the last climactic chorus I almost came again. Nothing touched me, and I didn’t touch myself, and still I felt ready to go over and come. That hadn’t happened to me since high school. When he looked again, he must have seen it on my face.
Then I was coming. The starbursts washed through my body in liquid pyrotechnics. If I’d pitched off a bridge right then, I would have landed straight in heaven.
At the end of the song, I was on my feet, feeling strong. I raised my arms in the air with him and the band. My jeans were back up and I was shouting.
After the crashes and thrashes of song’s big, sustained finish, Blaze waved to the cheering stadium crowd and said something in Chainsaw’s ear that got a big laugh from him. Then Blaze was loping back to the wings and still grinning.
He didn’t break step as he grabbed me by the hair and guided me back into the darkness in the wings. The looks and leers that I caught from the stagehands and the other liggers and lurkers standing around backstage did nothing to dampen the thrill.
The burning soreness in my ass, I took that as my badge of honor. Blaze’s raw masculinity was terrifying, and it thrilled me, from my head right down into my pants. Everyone we passed grinned and applauded or shouted. Outside he took me to a black Harley. He swung his legs astride it.
I was about to climb on the back when he said, “No, girl. What are you doing?”
I just looked at him and my jaw sagged. He patted the fuel tank between his thighs and said, “Up here, girl.”
I was about to try to climb onto the tank when he said, “You need to get your jeans off first,”
Chapter Eight
AS THOUGH THAT WERE the most obvious thing. What was I, an idiot? I took my jeans off, he took them from me and dropped them in a leather pannier. I wriggled up onto the tank, wearing just a loose tee-shirt and a skimpy pair of sheer, black panties. I sat, facing him, my legs over his thighs. He said,
“There you go.” and he fired up the bike’s thumping motor. That was the first time I heard the sound of that scooter, At the same time, I felt the big American engine pound under my ass, and I never forgot it.
As we flew out onto the freeway, he looked me over, leaning back on the tank in front of him. My thin tee-shirt flapped around my big breasts, bare under the thin cotton. As the wind whipped under the shirt and around my nipples, my breasts swelled, my nipples hardened and his eyes widened. The wind blew around the tops of my thighs and I looked up at Blaze, guiding the huge, pounding bike.
Through my panties and right at the soft opening between my thighs, in his hot leather jeans I felt that rockstar ramrod ready to go. I said,
“You could fuck me. Right out here on the highway. Right now.”
I felt crazy. It was all totally crazy. But crazy good. I didn’t doubt it for an instant. Not then.
I pressed down and felt my hot, wet lips against the ridge in his pants and I rocked along the length of his huge member. Pulling my panties aside, he rubbed my clit, then pushed his fingers up into my hot, wet, hungry puss. He rose out of the saddle to finger-fuck me as we drove, the wind in my hair and under my tee-shirt, fanning my hot breasts, my arms out behind me over the bars.
As his fingers were in me, I stretched and wriggled to feel and pump against the length of that shaft. My breath heaved and my breasts bounced. The feeling of my breasts swelling in the wind and under the flimsy cotton, his fingers driving and teasing my clit, plundering my pussy and the heat of his hips grinding into my crotch and the hardness of his thighs under my ass, in the cool night air. I yelled.
“Yes, yes! Blaze!” I pivoted my body forward to kiss him. He shoved me back, hard.
His eyes flashed and his voice was wild. “Maybe you’ll kill us, Lucy. But not here. Not now,” and the bike leaned hard to take a curve in the highway.
With one hand he reached up under my ass. He shoved a finger up there and it made me gasp again, and he used that hand to set the rhythm, his finger hooked in my ass to pull my hips on and down and up and around.
His eyes flashed and his teeth gleamed in the dark. We passed all kinds of traffic, and I shouted at the little suburban people in their little suburban cars,
“Look, motherfuckers. Feast your eyes! Drool and shove your hands down your pants! Because you ain't going to be doing anything like this. Not as long as you LIVE!”
I was practically naked, the wrong way on a motorcycle, doing who cares what speed, bucking and grinding on a hard, hot, thick cock. I was flying and in the wind with a huge rock megastar’s fingers inside me. And I mean huge in every way. I pushed and squeezed my ass down as far as I could.
I pulled myself to sit up so I could wrap my arms around him, and feel his big, solid chest and trunk up hard against the cushions of my big, soft, lovely breasts. My nipples throbbed through the flimsy cotton tee-shirt and against his hard chest and the wind rushed up cold between my thighs, and around the lips of my pussy as they hugged and sucked on his pounding hammer.
He shoved me down again. Cold air picked out bare flesh around my crotch, mapping where my hot juices ran, the hot lips of my quivering quim as it clung hungrily to the bulge in his pants where the thick shaft of his hot, pulsing, pounding rod beat for me.
I beat my hips up and down the length of that shaft. I felt it as close and in as much details as I possibly could as I pushed my clit hard into his groin. I rose and slid down again and again, along the tank, along the underside of that fat, hard cock. I felt the pulse of it rise up through the thickness of his pants.
It stretched and strained for me, and his heat rose as mine did. He pushed me back to lying against the tank again and he rose to grind against me. He pumped, pressed and pounded in long, hard drags, farther forward and harder up, holding and pushing mercilessly against my clit. We ground our pelvises together, and I pushed back as hard as I could.
I watched his lips and the whips his tongue made across them. His eyes flashed all over my body and I came so hard that I shouted. My juice squirted over his pants and his stomach When I came he accelerated the bike and he laughed like a maniac. His golden voice soared over the rising note of the engine.
Riding on my back in the wind, I stared up and marveled at his chiseled face, his manic eyes and his evil grin.
The wind whipped around my bare skin as we rode. Blaze turned in to a roadhouse on the edge of town and parked up by a crowd of Harleys, leaned up outside. We headed for the entrance, me wearing nothing but the big, loose tee-shirt and my panties. And they weren't exactly straight. My hair was in my face and I just didn’t fucking care. Before we went in, I said,
Dirty Rocker Page 3
