Marooned with the Rock Star (A Crazily Sensual Rock Star Romance, with Humor) (4 page)

The girls pushed me against the wall. Alex,
Steve and Tyler had their own respective admirers who were
undressing them even as their lascivious eyes darted over to
appraise what I was doing now and again.

The brunette went down on her knees. Her eyes
were full and alluring as they flashed me a molten look of desire.
She unzipped my fly. I was wearing decent underwear, thank
goodness. (Sometimes, I didn’t.)

She slipped my already hard cock out of my
underwear. I could feel my band mates’ eyes on it. Naturally, they
had already seen it when we were pissing together in common
restrooms, especially when we were on tour. But they had never seen
it hard before.

Now they were assessing my size and girth in
the penis comparison thing we men sometimes do. I did not fall
short, thank goodness. I didn’t have a humungous cock, but neither
was I on the average side (or size) of things. The brunette and
redhead seemed to think so too at the way they were
enthusiastically cooing over it.

“Ooooh, what a nice schlong you have.”

“It makes me just want to lick it.”

The brunette did this. Still fastening her
eyes on my face, she coquettishly took my cock in her mouth as
though it were a giant lollipop. The pleasure shot into my groin
and balls instantly, and I let out a groan. It had been so long
since I had a blowjob. She was an expert, and she took me fully
into her mouth and deep-throated me. My crown hit the back of her
throat, and another spasm of pleasure burst within me.

It was all I could do to hold back my cum. I
leaned back against the wall and tipped my head backward to savor
the exquisite sensations.

Meanwhile, the redhead was unbuttoning the
snaps in front of my black shirt. My skin was revealed in what must
be a tantalizing display of pecs and well-formed muscles. I was
proud of my body. I worked hard at maintaining it. Since my stage
acts and music videos frequently required me to take off my shirt,
or at least show off a good portion of my shoulders and arms, I
made pretty damned sure that there was no ounce of spare fat on my
frame. I ate right, consulted a dietician, and worked hard at
keeping lean.

So I had nothing to be ashamed of when she
finally peeled off my shirt. Several heads turned to admire my
body. The brunette worked her clever mouth up and down my length –
sucking, nibbling and alternately licking my diamond hard flesh.
Her hands groped my balls and caressed them so that delightful
tingles exploded within them, sending a fresh wave of pre-cum into
the tip of my dick.

“Ohhhhh,” I moaned.

The redhead started to kiss me. Her breath
was heady with liquor and cigarette smoke. My pre-cum started to
leak into the brunette’s mouth. She swiveled her tongue around my
uncircumcised head and dipped the tip of it into my little slit. I
clenched my buttocks and growled with pleasure.

Hands fondled me everywhere – my torso, my
abs, my buttocks. The brunette slid down my pants and underwear,
and I paused momentarily to step out of them. The whole room was
punctuated with the sounds of groans and moans coming from the now
mostly naked men.

The brunette took off her top respectively,
revealing jiggling breasts which were respectful in size. My hands
groped these. I reached out to squeeze the redhead’s
pasty-plastered tits as well. All the breasts felt plump and nice
in my grasp. It had been so long since I held a nice couple of tits
in my palms.

The brunette took her mouth off my
saliva-covered cock.

“Come,” she said, getting up from her
knees.

Both girls led me to an empty water bed.
Tyler was on the divan beside this, already occupied with having
his cock sucked by two enthusiastic blondes who had already shed
all their clothes. They clambered all over him.

I flopped onto the water bed. The mattress
immediately bounced me up like a trampoline. I couldn’t help
laughing.

The girls laughed along with me. They threw
themselves onto the bed beside me and we all bounced up together
and fell down again in a shaky tangle of naked limbs and quivering
tits and genitals. The girls shed the last vestiges of their
underwear, revealing pubic mounds that were cleanly shaven without
a shred of hair left on their glistening skins. Their pussies were
red, moist and very inviting.

My cock was harder than hard. It was so hard
that its veins were practically straining on the top of my
shaft.

The redhead mounted me. I wish she could have
left some of her pubic hair behind so that I could tell if she was
a real redhead. Some part of my already fevered brain wanted to see
what everyone else was doing. The air was certainly smoky with
pheromones and the red heat of desire, which is palpable to
everyone either watching or engaged in it.

“Wait,” I said to the redhead. “I need a
condom.”

“Of course. I have one for you.”

The brunette was moving her groin to my head
while the redhead sheathed my cock with a condom that appeared
miraculously out of seeming nowhere. Then I realized that the beds
and couches and walls had little nooks in which such accoutrements
could be stored, along with the corresponding tubes of lube and
other sensory enhancing pleasures.

Once my cock was nicely covered, the brunette
moved on top of it.

“Wait,” I said, holding her hips. “I don’t
know your name.”

I was trying not to have anonymous sex.

“Does it matter?” she said. Probably a fair
question under the circumstances. Her pupils were very dark and a
sexual flush had spread all the way from her face down to her neck
and chest.

“Yes.”

“What would you like it to be?”

This was going to be difficult. “What’s your
real name?”

“Tiza.”

“OK, Tiza. I’m Kurt.”

“We know,” the brunette said. “And I’m
Bambi.”

None of them which were their real names, I
assumed.

Now that we were all properly introduced, I
felt better about fucking the two of them.

Tiza covered my cock with her warm,
not-too-tight pussy. I let out a cry going in. It felt so good
after such a long time. My flesh felt encumbered and squeezed in
the best way possible. I was imploding with the collective
sensation of it all. My mind went blank, and I saw spots dance in
my eyes. When I opened them again, Tiza was rocking above my hips,
smiling down at me.

Bambi was at my head. She raised her hips and
lowered her pussy to my mouth. So Tiza was effectively fucking me
while Bambi curved her hips to let me lick her clit. I performed
the latter with relish. It had been some time since I had gone down
on a woman, and so I reveled in the taste of her juices, which were
copiously flowing onto my lips and mouth and chin.

God, she tasted and felt so good with my
tongue. At the same time, Tiza pounded her hips against mine, Up,
down. Seesawing motions. The sensory overload was too much. I
bucked and lifted my hips so that my cock could grind deeper and
deeper into her. Bambi pressed her pussy onto my mouth, and I
inserted my tongue as deep as it could go inside her.

I came before I knew it.

I exploded. My semen shot into the condom,
deep inside Tiza’s snug little vagina. A volcanic rush filled my
head. Colors swam and my entire pelvic area flowed with little
starbursts of pleasure. Waves after waves of ecstasy crescendoed
through me, rendering my limbs weak and my body hollow – until I
was aching and shuddering and spent.

God, that was good. I should do this more
often. And I wasn’t exactly having anonymous sex. Strike One in my
favor.

I didn’t know if Tiza came too, because the
man who greeted us at the back entrance came in. My mind was still
in a blur when I distinctly heard his voice saying:

“It’s a raid! The cops are here!”

Shit, I immediately thought. Vice!

Everyone in the room was scrambling to pluck
their cocks out of wet orifices and their mouths from genitals.
Alex, Steve and Tyler rushed to pick their scattered clothes up.
Everyone was in a frenzy of dressing. I pitied the girls. They
weren’t dressed up that much in the first place and they certainly
weren’t going to pass as nuns with those micro-nano outfits and
nipple pasties they were flaunting.

“Come on, Kurt,” Steve hissed. “Let’s get out
of here.”

Right.

You would think that was the defining moment
– when we got caught, correct? Well, not really.

I wasn’t that lucky.

KURT

I quickly found my discarded pants, and had
difficulty getting into them because they were so tight. My shirt
was a more difficult prospect to find, but I finally spotted it
being stepped on by someone who was rushing to buckle his belt. I
retrieved it in that pandemonium of stomping feet and hiked
adrenaline.

I was finally half-dressed when Tyler grabbed
my arm and whirled me out of the door.

“Cops mean publicity,” he explained. “Not all
publicity is good publicity, especially when you are nommed for a
Grammy.”

Right. Wouldn’t want to sway the voters in
any way.

We came up by stairs and so we tumbled down
those stairs again.

“Where’s Stan?” asked Alex.

“Probably gone to take a piss,” replied
someone else.

“We can’t wait,” Alex declared. “Where are
the keys to the van?”

We didn’t even know where the van was
parked.

The man who had greeted us handed me a car
key. “Here, take my car. You can return it tomorrow.”

I grabbed it without further preamble.
“Where’s your car?”

“It’s the white BMW in the back.”

It was my turn to take charge and say to the
guys, “OK, come on. Let’s go.”

We ran into the back alley, where the white
BMW – a seven-series, no less – sat waiting for us like a getaway
car after a bank robbery. Our forlorn black van was parked a little
distance away. I hopped into the driver’s seat and the rest of the
band got into the other seats.

“I’ll return it tomorrow,” I said to the man
in as low a voice as I could muster to be heard.

He waved me away and darted back into the
back of the building.

“Step on it, Kurt,” Alex ordered, as if we
were playing cops and robbers.

I turned the ignition on and stepped on gas
pedal. The BMW purred to life under my hands and we were off.

“Don’t drive too fast,” Tyler cautioned. He
smelled of heavy cigarette smoke.

“Yeah, take it easy. Wouldn’t want to attract
any cops,” said Steve. He smelled of, uh, cunt juice,
unfortunately.

“Yes, Dad,” I deadpanned.

The alley was dark and cluttered with garbage
bins and vanishing cats, and so driving fast wasn’t an option. But
once we got out of the alley, the streets of New York were
relatively empty at this time. But driving fast wasn’t an option
either because there were so many pedestrian stops along the
way.

We could hear the wail of cop cars nearby,
and my nervousness started to tick away like a time bomb. I could
literally hear my heart beating in my ears.

“Uh, where do we go now, guys?” I said.

“Take us home, man,” Alex replied.

Trouble was, I wasn’t sure where his ‘home’
was.

You see, we always had Stan or someone else
as the designated driver. The drivers changed from time to time,
and they were always hired from limo companies. Sometimes they were
hired by our record company, and other times, by our publicist.

Because we always had a designated driver, I
never really took note of where everyone else lived. Additionally,
we didn’t always arrive at the same times, and so we usually had
individual drivers to drive each to wherever we were going.

“You’ve got to tell me where,” I said, noting
that there was no GPS. But no sweat. New York City wasn’t that hard
to get around. One block eventually led to another block and if you
kept driving in a straight line, you were bound to end up
somewhere.

“No problem,” Alex said. “Go up to
thirty-third by Broadway, and then turn right.”

That was easy enough.

I got all the way to the thirtieth. The light
at the intersection was green, and so I plowed on.

“Hang on, turn here,” said Alex.

“I thought you said thirty-third.”

“I said thirtieth.”

Sounded like thirty-third to me. So I swerved
to the right with a screech of the BMW’s tires. And that was when
it all went to hell.

REBECCA

“So Kurt Taylor was arrested for driving
under the influence when he plowed into a van filled with your crew
members?” I say incredulously.

“That’s right,” Captain Victor affirms. “He
was brought to court, and the magistrate sentenced him to community
service for two weeks. That was when I intervened. One of my crew
was out with a broken arm because of what Kurt Taylor did. So I
asked the judge to let him serve on my cruise ship instead, and
here he is.”

Here he is, just like this.

It is a marvel of a story, the type of fodder
for ‘news’ sites like TMZ. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if there
are reporters on this ship just waiting to snap a picture of Kurt
in his overalls, mopping the deck.

“Wow,” I say.

“Wow indeed.” The Captain seems chagrined.
“So tell me, Rebecca, what’s your story with Kurt Taylor? If you go
around throwing dirty water from pails on my crew, I’m warning you
that I won’t take it lightly.”

I blush.

“I know. It was wrong of me. I don’t know
what came over me, honest.”

“He could sue you.”

I am horrified. “No. I don’t think he would.
Would he?”

The Captain leans back. “You never know about
these rock star types. They’re used to being quite the diva. You’re
evading the question, Rebecca.”

“What question?” I am caught, I know it.

“What’s your story with Kurt Taylor?” The
Captain’s gaze holds mine.