Teaser: What’s a girl to do when a guitar god rock star won’t fuck her but his girlfriends will?
Nectar Of The Guitar God
By Jeremy Spencer
April Flynn could barely stop from screaming, she was so excited. The peppy college freshman hopped up and down in line, her red hair bouncing as wildly as her tits, as she waited to get into The Steel Pony. It was her first over-18 concert, and she couldn’t believe she actually had a special pass for her favorite band.
Scott Barnes and the Barnestormers had been her favorite group ever since her junior year of high school. That was the year their debut album came out. Some of her friends thought it was stupid to listen to rock and roll, especially considering the Barnestormers didn’t do any flashy dance moves, and Scott Barnes—the guitar god himself—hardly even looked at the girls. At least that was the official word.
April knew that at some interview, Scott had revealed that he tried to stay away from groupies. He said that’s what his song, “Get Off My Jock, Bitch,” was all about. He said he was in a serious relationship and didn’t want to fuck it up.
April would see about that. She’d dressed strategically for the concert, in her best hip-huggers and a top that revealed more of her belly than her parents would have been happy with, but fuck it. She was 18 years old, 600 miles from home, and her parents would never know. She had a fake I.D. in her pocket, just in case she felt like getting drunk, and judging by the crowd, she probably wouldn’t have any trouble getting high, not that she was that kind of a bad girl.
But she knew tonight was going to rock, with or without the drugs or alcohol. As long as she got to hook up with Scott Barnes, and as she looked at the special, all-access pass that had cost her more time on the phone waiting in line on the local radio station than she was willing to admit, April thought her chances were pretty good.
As soon as she cleared the bar’s bouncer, who April thought got just a bit too personal with the pat-down, although she did think he was kind of cute in a “regular night” kind of way, she hurried up to the stage, in case any of the band members were still setting up.
“Hey,” she said to Donnie, the drummer. “What’s up?” Donnie, who was known far and wide for his sexual exploits with groupies, looked her up and down before answering.
“Hey, Babe,” he said with a leer. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” April replied, twirling her hair around her finger. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing yet,” he said with a quick grab of his crotch. April could see the bulge there, and she thought it was pretty damn impressive, but she had other thoughts on her mind. “Hey, where’s Scott?” she asked innocently, almost giggling out loud when she saw Donnie’s reaction. Busted, she thought to herself. He just realized he’s messing around with Scott’s woman, even if Scott doesn’t know it yet.
“Uh, Scott’s still in the back,” Donnie sighed. “Did you want him?”
At this, April did giggle, and nodded her head excitedly. “Yeah I want him!” she laughed. “D’ya think you could get him for me?”
Donnie rolled his eyes, but shook his head. “Sorry,” he said. “We got a quick band meeting in a couple minutes. Maybe I could get you backstage after the show and you and me...”
“I already got a pass,” April said and held up the laminated piece of cardboard hanging between her breasts. “But thanks anyway.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Donnie mumbled. He finished adjusting his cymbals and then headed to the back.
Nice enough ass, I suppose, thought April as she watched him walk away. She glanced her watch. Hurry up!
**
It wasn’t more than forty more minutes until the concert started, and when it did, April made sure she was front and center. As Scott Barnes and the Barnestormers took the stage, April felt her pulse begin to race and her pussy start to moisten. She didn’t believe it, but there he was—Scott Barnes—and she thought he was even hotter in person.
Scott, for his part, picked her out of the crowd right away. He’d finally had to tell Donnie to shut the hell up, not believing for an instant the tales the drummer was telling him about this “major league, grade-A hottie” in the audience, but when Scott saw the redhead with the curly hair and big tits in the front row, he knew his drummer had been telling the truth.
He turned back to the drum kit, hiding the move as a simple amplifier adjustment, and nodded his head to Donnie who returned it with a shrug. “I told you so, you dumb bastard,” seemed to be the message implied. Scott just laughed, then quickly turned back and screamed into the microphone.
“Are you ready to rock?” he asked the crowd, who screamed back at him. “Then let’s go!” he yelled out. He counted out a quick “1-2-3-4” and the band lurched into gear behind him. Donnie and Mark—the bass player—setting down a tight rhythm that he jammed over. The introduction careened on and on, almost building up to the true beginning of their opening number before falling away for more jamming. After five minutes, Scott decided they were “warm” and leaned into the microphone and started singing the first verse.
“I told you to leave me alone,
But you said ‘My Daddy’s not home.’
You tell me you’re ready to rock,
But I say get off of my jock! Bitch!”
For the entire first verse and chorus, Scott’s eyes were locked only on the redhead in the front row.
In the audience, a delirious April couldn’t have been happier. I won!
**
Two hours later, sweaty and still pumped up with adrenaline, Scott, Donnie and Mark took their final bows and exited the Steel Pony stage.
“Holy shit, dude!” groaned Mark. “Did you see the tits on that bitch? They must have been out to here,” he gestured, placing his hands roughly a foot and a half in front of his chest.
“Moron,” laughed Donnie. “They weren’t that big.”
“Shut up, fucker,” shot Mark. “You just couldn’t see because you’re back there behind the drum set. I’m telling you, they were huge.”
“Fuck you, bass player. Why don’t you just admit you’re a failed, wanna-be guitar player? You’ll be a lot happier in the long run. Scott, tell the moron those were some huge tits.”
“You’re both morons,” said Scott. “They were 34-B at best.”
“Dude, listen to you, spouting off about her bra size,” Donnie teased. “You gonna fuck her or something? They were nice tits.”
Scott smiled slightly at the memory. Half way through their third song, the redhead in the front row had pulled her shirt over head and held it there until the final chorus, her tits shaking to the beat as she jumped up and down. Scott had about dropped his guitar pick when he first noticed. Not that chicks weren’t always stripping down, he admitted, but few of them had such perfect tits. And even fewer managed to flash the band for so long. Arena security usually took a dim view of public nudity. Thank God the Steel Pony was too cheap to provide a security staff, and since the band wasn’t about to let their meager cut get divided up again, Scott thought everything worked out in the end.
“Nah, I’m not gonna fuck her,” Scott said. “You know who would be a little pissed.”
“You mean your better halves?” laughed Mark. “Who’s gonna tell ‘em?”
“Idiot,” hissed Donnie, but it was too late. A blond and a brunette easily equal to April’s beauty had just walked into the dressing room area. Had April been in the room, she wouldn’t have figured she had a chance with Scott.
“Hey boys” said Julie. Christie, the blond-haired beauty at her side, nodded to Donnie and Mark, and gave a little wave to Scott. The two women, Scott’s “better halves,” as they were known to the band, had been manning the merchandise booth in the back of the room, and hadn’t been able to get to the band sooner. They’d finally managed to get free by corralling a couple of bar employees to watch the table for them, and headed back to congratulate the band.
“You guys were really swell,” said Christie. “I mean, golly, that was a neat show.”
Donnie started laughing, but Mark cut him off with a glare. It did not go well to piss off Scott about Christie’s rather odd speaking habits or her rather strict upbringing. Better just to ignore them.
“Thank you Christie,” he said instead with a smile. “We appreciate it. We thought it was... pretty keen ourselves.”
“I know, right?” laughed the girl. She paused as Julie leaned over to whisper in her ear, then with a blush turned to Mark. “Julie wants me to tell you that she thought you guys were... kick ass,” she finally managed.
“Ha!” laughed Mark. “Thanks, toots.” With a little wave, Mark grabbed his bass guitar and threw it in a case. He grabbed that and his jacket and headed to the door. “Sorry to split, guys,” he called over his shoulder. “I gotta bail or I’m gonna regret it for the rest of my life.”
“See you,” said Scott with a nod. When Mark was gone he turned to his drummer.
“Where’s he off to?”
Donnie laughed. “He met a couple of sisters out in the bar during set break. Said they’d show him the time of his life—both of them—but he had to get to their place fast. Lucky bastard,” Donnie said wistfully. His mood didn’t last long, however. Right then an attractive blond walked through the door. Scott marveled at the skills their roadie-slash-guard had with the women. He knew, assuming tonight was no different from any other night, that the girl had just given Ty a blowjob, but here she was, not a hair out of place, not a smudge to be seen, looking like she was ready to show Donnie the time of his life.
“Babe!” Donnie shouted as if the girl was a long-lost girlfriend. “What’s up?” In minutes, Donnie and the girl were heading out the bar’s side door, arms around each other. It wouldn’t be too long, Scott mused, before the two were either rutting around in a hotel room somewhere, or the girl would be bent over the back of a bass drum case in the back of the band’s van. Ty, for his part, would wait for the van to stop rocking before loading up the rest of the gear.
“She was pretty cute,” said Christie with an almost-straight face, which caused Scott to laugh out loud. “What?” Christie pouted.
“Nothing. Just... if you two are so anxious for some extra pussy, why don’t you at least go watch? They’re just in the van, probably.”
For a second, Julie and Christie looked at each other, then without a word being spoken, were out the door Donnie his girl for the evening had just gone through.
“I guess it’s just me tonight,” laughed Scott. It may not have been the prototypical life of a burgeoning rock start, but Scott liked his life, even if the people around him seemed to think Scott was insane for not taking advantage of what Mark liked to refer to as “free nookie.” Christie and Julie, for their parts, weren’t nearly as jealous as Scott would have liked. Instead of being shocked and outraged at all the women throwing themselves at their boyfriend each show, the two girls seemed almost stunned that Scott kept throwing them back.
“Don’t you want all that pussy?” Julie had asked him one night. Scott had just laughed.
“I don’t want any pussy but the one I’m in right now,” he said with a grin up at Julie, who was right then straddling his hips, “or the one I’m about to lick.” At that, Christie had given a little giggle and dropped down on his face, and the conversation was soon forgotten.
Still, on some nights, the temptations were tougher than others. Tonight, for instance, Scott thought, remembering the redhead from the crowd. He wondered if she was still around, not that he’d do anything, even if the girls weren’t here, but he would like to at least tell the girl “thanks” for the show.
It was at that moment that he had his chance, as the girl herself stormed through the door, Ty following closely behind, limping and grabbing at his crotch.
“I told the motherfucker I wasn’t going to blow him,” said the girl. “But he didn’t understand how serious I was about it.” She glared back at Ty as if daring him to come any closer. Ty just looked helplessly at Scott who after a moment nodded that it was okay, and with a grin and a wince, Ty backed out of the room and shut the door. Scott turned back to the girl, an eyebrow raised in question.
“My name’s April, by the way,” she said with a saucy grin. “Him, I kick in the nuts. You, I’ll fuck.”
**
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