Brad's Road Trip Ch. 10

"Hell, girl," I said. "I don't care if you murdered somebody. Let him tell everyone. Couldn't be worse than having to go out with him."

She finally got the joke, and started convulsing with laughter again. "No," she tried, but couldn't hold it before breaking down again.

"I'll stop, I'll stop," I said, sipping my beer as she settled down.

"He had tickets," she replied. "I'm a big Brad Paisley fan and an even bigger Brooks & Dunn fan. I wanted to go to the concert so badly, but... I didn't know it would be this bad."

"How did somebody like him meet someone like you?"

"Because somebody like me has a nerdy little brother who plays fantasy card games," she explained. "He's 15, and he spends all his time at the comic book store. He told me one of his friends had tickets, and he'd told him that I love B&D and would probably go."

She waited a moment, then:

"I might be an only child when I get home tomorrow, though. "

Now I was the one laughing. I chatted her up for a little bit, and found out she was a fourth-year pre-law student at the University of Indiana, an hour or so away, and was back home in Indianapolis interning for the summer. The job was great for her transcripts and resume, but the pay sucked, which is why she didn't have the money to buy her own tickets to the concert.

"So, does he think he's getting a piece at the end of the night?"

It was a blunt question, but life's short. Jenny was hot, and there was going to be an after-party. Might as well see what could be done about getting her to it. Luckily, she wasn't offended by my boldness.

"I don't know what he thinks," Jenny said, "but I'm not even touching the annoying little fuck." My hand had been dangling over the back of the seat for a while, and she moved her knee under it until we touched. When I met her eyes, she continued. "Hell, I won't even leave here with him if I get a better offer."

And sometimes, it's just that easy.

I gave her my number and she promised to text me before the end of the concert. I had no doubt that she would. I moved back to my seat, and when I glanced behind me 10 minutes later, the guy was sitting there by himself with Jenny nowhere in sight.

Things really began to get interesting when Rascal Flatts took the stage. The stadium was mostly full now, and there were two married couples on my left, and a teenaged couple on the other side.

The best part was the pair of girls who took the seats right in front of me. I didn't flirt or even say anything to them during Rascal Flatts' set, instead just choosing to admire their asses and listen as they went ga-ga over Joe Don Rooney, the band's bass player.

One was a short redhead, with hair flowing nearly to her ass, and the other was a taller brunette with a body that would make most supermodels jealous. They danced in place during the faster songs and sang along with the slow ones. Sometime during the set, I developed a plan.

Just as the lights came up and the roadies started tearing down the stage and setting up for Brad Paisley, I called Kelly. I knew she had to work, so I wasn't sure if she'd answer me, but I had a plan either way. I got lucky, though, because she was on a break.

"I'm sure the concert is excellent, but it'd be even better if I was standing in front of you, grinding my ass into your cock during every slow song," Kelly said when she answered.

"Jesus, Kelly," I replied. "You trying to give a 22-year-old man a heart attack?"

"What?" she asked. "I only have a few more minutes left on break. Didn't want to waste any time."

"Hmm," I pondered. "In that case, carry on."

"No, no," she said. "I wouldn't want to be giving any pansy men a stroke." She laughed, and my grin widened. "You having fun, baby?"

We'd been using a lot of pet names for each other the last few days. At first I was a little leery of it, until I realized that they actually didn't bother me. I guess I thought I was supposed to be annoyed with them, and if anyone else called me anything like that, I probably would be. But coming from Kelly's lips, they seemed natural.

"I am," I said. "Rascal Flatts just finished up, and Brad Paisley's up next. I've met a few people today I think you would like, too."

"Oooh," she said, temporarily slipping back into sexpot mode. "Tell me more."

"Well, I met a big group of girls in line earlier, and then I met another one a little bit ago. Gonna have to get her away from her annoying date a little later. And right now, I'm standing behind two pretty damn hot girls."

I made sure my voice was loud enough that they could hear me, and I was watching their reactions. The brunette's back stiffened some, but neither of them turned to look at me.

"Descriptions, please."

"One is a redhead, and if I'm not careful I might accidentally step on her hair. It's that long," I continued. "The other must own a gym, I think, because even from behind I can tell she has one of the tightest bodies I've ever seen."

"Have you seen it yet?"

"No," I agreed. "But I'm hoping this conversation will help me with that."

"Ah, using me, huh?"

"Yes," I admitted, lowering my voice to normal tones now. They could still hear me, but only if they were really, really trying. "But only because I can't use you for what I really want."

"Oooh," she said again. "God, you know just how to push my buttons. I'm in my Taco Bell uniform sitting in my car on a break, and I'll be gushing when I go back in."

"That's not my problem," I teased. "But, holy hell, do I wish it was."

"Me too," she said. I noticed the girls in front of me whispering back and forth now. The redhead started to look over her shoulder at me, but the brunette elbowed her forward. "The things I would let you do to..."

Kelly trailed off, and I thought it was just because she was letting her mind wander down that particular road. A few seconds later, I learned otherwise.

"What?" she spat. There was no way that tone of voice was meant for me. I heard another male voice, saying something about a machine. "Fuck," she muttered. "Okay, I'll be right in."

"Problems?" I asked.

"Our damn smoothie machine is broken again," she grumbled. "Gonna have to cut this short."

"That's okay," I said.

"Gives you more time to work on the girls in front of you, right?"

Damn, this woman understood me.

"Have fun. Hell, throw an orgy." The thought had crossed my mind. "But you better call me tonight. You have no lame excuses like sleep this time."

"I promise, Kelly."

I hung up the phone, and feigned checking text messages for a minute. I did have one from Jenny and one from Vicki, but I could check them later. I was just making sure the girls knew I was off the phone. When I finally looked up, they were both looking at me.

"Hi," I said. "Looking for something?"

"Um, no," the brunette said. Her face wasn't quite as attractive as the rest of her body, but she was still pretty.

"You were a little loud there," her friend said. She was just about the opposite. She didn't have the tightest body in the world, but her face was incredible. Becky was still the hottest redhead I'd ever seen, but this girl was a close, close second.

"Ah, you guys heard that, huh?" I said, feigning embarrassment.

"Yes, yes we did," the redhead said.

"So, you think we're hot, huh?" the darker-haired girl asked.

I nodded. "Me and every other guy in the place. I'd guess a few of the girls, too."

The redhead blushed, but her friend just laughed. I looked to my right, where the teenaged couple had been sitting before going to the restroom a few minutes prior.

"You know the guy sitting here with his girlfriend? He's been staring at your asses all night," I said.

"That kid?" the brunette asked, and I nodded again. "He's like 16!"

"Young people can still have excellent taste," I countered. The kid had actually been checking both of them out a fair amount -- I wasn't just making that up. I had no idea how his girlfriend didn't notice that. Of course, I had a girlfriend who actively encouraged it. Maybe he did too.

I introduced myself then, and so did they. Miranda was the redhead with the infinite hair and gorgeous face, and Desiree was the brunette with the insane body. Predictably, Desiree was a dancer for the Indiana Pacers, the local NBA team who'd just finished their season.

We chatted right up until Brad Paisley got on stage, at which point, we all watched the concert. If anyone's ever seen the man live, they know he can put on a damn good show. Miranda and Desiree had swapped seats with the older couple to their right, so they could dance in the aisles. Miranda beckoned me over to them, so I slid past the teenagers and joined them in the aisle.

They both danced very close to me. Desiree had downed two beers in the intermission alone, and was now working on a third. With almost no body fat on her lithe frame, she was feeling the effects big time. We were far from the only people dancing -- it seemed like half the crowd was in the aisles, working their drunk bodies to whatever Brad Paisley wanted to play.

He slowed it down a few songs later, though, and I was momentarily unsure what to do. That is, until Miranda put her arms around my waist and pulled me close to her. Before long, I felt warm breath on my neck and a body pushed up against my back. I looked back just in time to see Desiree put her head on my shoulder.

The set stayed slow for a little while, and all three of us were letting our hands wander. Miranda package checked me at least twice, and Desiree could have sculpted my ass from memory by the time we were finished. I couldn't really feel up Desiree, but I got several handfuls of Miranda's boobs.

When he'd finally finished up, I went to sit down, but found that the teenagers had slid in one spot so I could sit on the aisle.

"We figured y'all would be dancing even more during Brooks & Dunn," the kid explained. I said thank you and sat down in what had been his seat. He leaned over and whispered in my ear 'Lucky fucker.'

"I am at that," I muttered, low enough that his girlfriend wouldn't hear us. "I'm also out of beer," I added, piping up now. "You ladies want anything?"

"We'll come with you," Desiree slurred, and so we went, up the aisles and out into the concessions area. The sun was down, but it was still hot and muggy and altogether unpleasant. Apparently others were feeling it too, because we hadn't been in line for two minutes when we heard shouting and yelling coming from the left.

"You better watch your fucking mouth, boy!" The guy yelling was as big as Doug, one of the guys I'd watched the Pirates with yesterday. The guy he was yelling at was much smaller than me, but apparently not intimidated.

"Yeah, whatever, asshole," he shouted back. "Give me five minutes alone with Chrissy, and then we'll let her decide who's the boy."

Uh oh.

The big guy took a swing at the smaller guy, but he ducked out of the way and answered with a knee to the bigger man's ribs. I was hoping that would be it, but one of the big guy's friends blindsided the small one, sending him flying with a nice right cross to the jaw. He landed at my feet, and his left arm caught Miranda across the leg as it flailed.

"Ok, guys," I shouted, moving toward them despite the girls' objections. "Enough is enough." I wondered where the bouncers were -- I'd volunteered to work security at a few different events during my time in the Corps, and usually we'd be all over a situation like this by now.

"You one of his faggot friends?" another of the big guy's buddies asked. He started charging right at me, and I was seriously hoping this didn't get out of hand.

"I'm not anybody's friend," I said, stepping right up into his face and making him pull up short. "I just don't want you guys to get anyone else hurt while you're comparing dick sizes."

Probably not the smartest thing to say, and I'm sure the guy would have decked me, but a couple other guys in my line spoke up as they walked up beside me.

"Seriously guys," said one of them, a short, tightly-packed guy with tattoos crawling up both arms. "There's a whole parking lot out there if you have some issues you need to work out."

"I haven't been in a fight in a loooong time," the other one said, his words thick with a southern drawl. He wasn't quite as big as the guy who'd started the shouting, but he wasn't someone I'd want to piss off, either. "Don't wanna get in one now, either, but can't say I wouldn't enjoy it."

The little guy had since gotten up, and along with one of his buddies, they rushed past me and my two allies and launched themselves at the second guy, the one who'd knocked him silly. They all crumpled into a heap of fists and legs, rolling into a few other onlookers as they went.

The guy with the accent went over to clean that up. His tattooed buddy stood toe-to-toe with the third guy, the one who'd charged at me.

I started to go help the first guy out, but I got cold-cocked from my left. I nearly fell over, but managed to recover my balance by taking just a few steps to my right. When I turned my head to look, I noticed the original big man grinning at me.

"Don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong!" he shouted, then lunged at me. To hell with this, I thought. I saw some yellow-shirted security guys running at us in my peripheral vision, but my attacker was going to get to me before there were. So, I sidestepped him, and he ran right into a fist from the guy backing me up. When he spun around, I wrapped my right arm around the back of his head, and when he bent down to go with it, I promptly drove my right knee deep into his crotch.

"Jesus, man!" his friend shouted, as the first guy slid to the pavement like a sack of potatoes. His eyes were wide in shock. "That ain't even fuckin' fair!"

"Wasn't trying to be," I said, rubbing my jaw where he'd nailed me. "I think we won, though."

With that, the third guy backed down and went over to help his buddy. The other guy who'd helped me out walked back over to us, with the little guy tucked under one arm and the guy who'd punched him under the other arm.

I could hear the girls running up to us from behind me, and they got there right about the same time security did.

They dragged us all to the security office up front to figure out what had happened -- me, the girls, my two allies, the four guys who'd started the fighting, the extra friend who'd done nothing but talk to me, and Chrissy, the girl they'd been fighting over. Apparently, she'd been standing there the whole time, just watching as the rumble unfolded. I didn't see what they were all competing over -- she wasn't hideous, but she wasn't worth assault charges.

While we waited, the two other guys and I chatted. Sam was the one with all the tattoos, and Houston was the large one with the southern accent. He lived in Indianapolis, but his nickname came from where he was born and raised. They didn't even know each other; they'd been trying to buy beer just like me, and had happened to step up to get my back at the same time.

"You looked like you could handle yourself," Sam said, "but I wanted to make sure."

"He had a couple other buddies too," Houston said. I hadn't even noticed them. "One on five would be a bitch for anybody."

It took a few minutes to sort everything out, and I was worried that Brooks & Dunn would start without us. They finally released everyone but the four guys who'd instigated everything. Sure, I'd been part of it and so had Sam and Houston, but security had enough witnesses to corroborate our stories that we'd just been trying to keep things from getting out of hand.

Miranda and Desiree each latched onto one of my arms as we walked out of the office, Houston and Sam trailing behind us.

"Damn, son," Houston said, apparently enjoying the view.

"Make sure those girls take care of your jaw later," Sam added, and I got an idea. I'd already texted Vicki a couple of times, and her whole group was meeting up with me at the after-party concert. Jenny was down for whatever I wanted to do, and it didn't look like Miranda and Desiree were going to want to go straight home either. With just a little bit of work on my part, I could see things heading straight back to my hotel room, just a block or two away, after the party.

Sure, I was a 22-year-old Marine, in the prime of my life with a booming sex drive. But 9-on-1? I wasn't sure even I could handle that by myself.

"I've got some other friends here, and we're all gonna meet up out here for the party once B&D are done," I said. "Why don't you guys join us?"

Desiree was pretty hammered by this point, and she just laid her head on my shoulder, but Miranda enthusiastically nodded. I exchanged cell numbers with both of them, and we made it back just in time for the show to start.

We danced along with everyone else for the first few songs, but I could tell Desiree was gonna need a break. Instead of letting her go back to her seat, I put her in mine. I had an idea of what might happen, and sure enough, when I looked back a few minutes later, her head was on the teenaged boy's shoulder. His girlfriend's head was on his other shoulder. I guess she didn't mind, after all.

Miranda didn't want to quit, though, and as the faster songs kept coming, we got further and further from our seats. They switched to a slow song, "Neon Moon," and we found ourselves dancing cheek-to-cheek in a sea of others doing the same exact thing.

I'd been half-hard all night, but when Miranda pressed her body up against mine, I could feel the heat radiating from her pelvis. She never looked up at me, but she slowly adjusted her feet to where she could straddle my leg. I was wearing cargo shorts, so when she started rocking her hips against me, I felt more than just heat.

I felt wetness.

Grinning, I moved my hands down to her ass, and idly pulled her skirt up until it wasn't blocking her pussy anymore. When it was just her panties pressed against my lower thigh, it got even wetter. She gasped and finally looked up at me.

"Busted," I said in a sing-song voice, letting her know I wanted her to continue. She did, but when "You're Gonna Miss Me When I'm Gone" started, I decided to try a more direct approach. I pulled her as close as possible and cupped her left breast with my right hand, causing her to groan.

"Shh," I whispered in her ear as the hand dipped lower. When I slipped it under the waistband of her skirt, she gasped and look at me. I just licked my lips and continued, pushing it beneath her thong. I could feel the furnace burning between her legs, and it wasn't long before I felt her juices, either.

"What are you--" she tried to ask, but I kissed her before she could finish it.

"Nothing, if you don't hush and enjoy it." I could tell she was a little nervous, but she tried to relax, leaning her head forward to my shoulder. As turned on as she was, I knew it wouldn't take much. I knew the song well, so I knew I had maybe two minutes till it was over.

My fingers searched out her clit and found it almost immediately, causing her to bite down hard on my shoulder.

"There's no way that didn't draw blood," I whispered.

"Sorry," she pouted.

"No you're not," I answered. "Neither am I." I pushed my hand lower until I could jab a finger up into her tight depths. It was an awkward angle, but she moaned nonetheless. I only left the digit there for a moment before moving it back to her clit.

"You have about a minute to cum for me," I whispered. "After that, they change songs, people stop dancing, and I stop what I'm doing."

She glared at me, but I just shrugged. I knew it would be no problem. I trapped her clit between two fingers, and just for effect, I leaned down and started sucking on her neck. Her fingers became claws, digging into my back as she spasmed and screamed with a closed mouth.