Drummer Boy – Jason Goes to Hell Ch. 01

Jason shot her a quizzical look, and she pointed at the wall behind him. He turned to look, and saw a smear of blood on the porcelain.

In disbelief, Jason gingerly touched the sore spot on the back of his head and was rewarded with a vicious stinging sensation.

"Ouch!" Jason said. "Okay, you win. You are, by far, the craziest fucking", but he was cut off by the sound of the restroom door banging shut behind Kristin.

Jason quickly washed his hands in one of the sinks and hightailed it out of the restroom. He rushed over to the table where their mostly uneaten food still sat, miraculously untouched by the waitstaff. He dropped a twenty next to his plate, then beat it out the front doors to look for Kristin's silver Taurus.

He saw it, just as it pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. She'd decided to strand him after all. He wasn't 100% certain, but he thought he saw Kristin giving him the finger as she sped away.

##

With his day already shot, and not wanting to blow any more cash on a cab, Jason walked home. It was a pretty long walk, and on a cloudless Texan summer afternoon to boot, so by the time Jason arrived at his apartment, his whole body was soaked with sweat.

When he walked in the door, his roommate Telly looked up from the video game he was playing. Telly let out a long, low whistle.

"Jesus, Jason," Telly said. "Talk about rode hard and put away wet."

Jason allowed himself an anguished groan and said, "Dude, you don't know the half."

Jason sank hard into their "freecycled" faux leather chair and stretched. After nearly an hour's walk in the burning Texas sun, the AC in the apartment was about the most decadent pleasure he could imagine. He kicked off his shoes and let the cool air sink its chill into his bones.

"Kristin get ahold of you?" Telly asked.

"Um...yeah," Jason said. The back of his head still stung from her lustful onslaught. "You could say that."

Telly shrugged, and went back to his video game. Soldiers and military ordnance ranged in and out of view on the TV, along with the sounds of all-out war.

"That girl is gonna kill you, man," Telly said.

Now it was Jason's turn to shrug, not that Telly could see, with his eyes glued to the TV screen. Not really caring what was on television at the moment, Jason just watched Telly play his game.

Telly and Jason becoming roommates had been a quirk. Jason's previous roommate, a talentless guitar player for another local band, had skipped town unexpectedly, leaving Jason holding the bag for rent. Jason had posted a hasty craiglist request for a roommate, but a friend hipped him to Telly, an IT nerd who was new to town and needing a place to stay.

Telly was a pretty standard-issue late-model nerd. Video games, card games, and role playing games all came with the package, as well as comic books and anime, which had puzzled Jason initially.

Being so different from each other, Jason had been apprehensive at first. But Telly was tidy, without being a dick about it, he respected Jason's space, and, importantly, was on time with the rent. Plus, he had a sardonic streak that Jason appreciated. They didn't move in the same social circles, but all in all, Telly was pretty cool for a square.

After a few more minutes of playing, Telly said, "Hey man, you want a turn?" He paused his game and held the controller out to Jason.

Not being a video game kinda guy, Jason waved him off. Jason wearily lurched out of his chair.

"I'm gonna shower," Jason said, "and then I'm gonna sleep for like a day. If anyone comes calling, tell 'em I moved to Yemen."

"The Chandler Bing Special," Telly said. "You got it."

With great effort, Jason made his way to the bathroom, stripped off, and took a shower. After, he put some alcohol and a bandage on his head and, finally succumbing to exhaustion, passed out naked on his bed.

##

A week passed without much of anything happening. He had his day job. A line cook for Sabado's, a local restaurant chain specializing in Mex-Italian fusion. Jason honestly didn't see the appeal, but for some folks it was a thing. He prepped dishes for the breakfast and lunch crowds. It wasn't exactly the most lucrative position for someone of his skills, but it paid the bills, and at least he didn't have to interact with the customers.

The day after his encounter with Pearl, Jason got on the horn to Percy "One Love" and let him know in no uncertain terms that if he didn't have his truck in the parking lot of Jason's apartment building by 9 AM, with the tank full and in the same physical condition as the night before, there would be no end of fucking up that Jason would perform on his person, front man or not. The truck was in the parking lot when Jason looked out the window at eight.

From Kristin, he didn't hear anything. She hadn't texted or called since the Waffle House. He'd tried to contact her, but she never hit him back. This wasn't unusual: sometimes they wouldn't see each other for days at a time, one time even extending to a couple of weeks. But Jason had an antsy feeling this time...like something had happened and they needed to actually talk about stuff. Or at the very least fuck it out good and proper. But no word came.

So, days passed. Jason worked, practiced with the band, practiced at home with his Yamaha electronic drum kit (a necessary splurge; Sweetwater online had had a sweet deal on a refurbished set) and bullshitted around the apartment with Telly.

##

The band got together on Wednesday night, since they had a gig next week. Jason admitted to himself that he kind of sleepwalked through it, but he still sounded better than the Aiden and Remy, guitar and bass, respectively. Jason was pretty sure they were drunk, they way they were laughing at everything, interrupting the songs and fucking up their parts. After barely muddling through one of their new songs, Jason called them on it.

"Look you assholes," Jason said, "you can suck on your own time. Pull it the fuck together."

Remy laughed, and Aiden sneered. "My game is tight," Aiden said. "What's your problem, Bam-Bam?"

Jason glared at him. "My problem is that you're behind on all the changes and you play like you got baby hands," he said. "Man the fuck up and play your damn axe!"

Remy burped and stage-whispered to Aiden. "He's just mad cause he knows that if we need a new drummer, we can go to a vending machine."

Aiden and Remy laughed at this, and Jason was seriously considering shoving a drumstick up somebody's ass, until Percy "One Love" unexpectedly intervened.

"Knock it off, jizzwads," Percy said. "Sticks is right. You guys suck today. If we suck live, there's not enough beer in the world gonna fix it. Andthatmeans no pussy. I don't know about you, but I like pussy, and I'm not gonna let you drunk-ass motherfuckers keep me from getting mine. Understand?"

Aiden and Remy were suitably cowed. Jason was mildly surprised. Percy wasn't usually so quick to come to his defense, even if he was in the right. Maybe he should have threatened to kick his ass sooner.

Now that the proper mindset had been established, Jason counted them off and they took it from the top. They still sounded like shit, but at least they were focused.

##

The following Friday afternoon, Jason was finishing his shift at Sabado's, having stayed a couple of extra hours to help out with the lunch rush and earn some bonus cash. On his way out the door, he finally got a text message from Kristin.

Two texts, actually. The first was just a picture. Jason raised an eyebrow when he saw it. It was unmistakably a photo of Kristin, naked from just under the curve of her breasts to just below her navel. He'd recognize her tanned, fit abs anywhere.

The second read simply, "7 tonight, your place, all yours, however you want it" followed by a rose emoticon.

Hell yeah, Jason wanted it. He'd been so busy, preoccupied with work and the band, he hadn't had time to think about getting any action, or even jerking off. He hadn't realized it until now, with his cock hardening at the sight of Kristin's teasing selfie, but he really needed to get off.

Jason got into his truck, already making plans for how the rest of the day would go. Get home, scrub the galley stink off of him, do a load of laundry and air the bachelor funk out of the apartment. Try to get a nap in. Jason smiled. It was bound to be a late night.

He'd order some Italian take-out. If they weren't hungry before, they were bound to be ravenous after. Oh, and make sure to let Telly know to make himself scarce for the night. It was the standard roomie arrangement: get lost if the girlfriend's staying over. And really, it was as much for Telly's benefit as much as Jason's. Things tended to get loud when Kristin was around. Jason would be glad to reciprocate, but Telly hadn't presented the opportunity, and Jason didn't want to feel like he was rubbing it in.

As he turned onto Lamar Avenue towards home, Jason thought about how it had always been this way between him and Kristin. Weirdest damn thing too, since their meeting had been purely accidental. Yet they'd been fucking before they'd even said "hello".

It had been at another house party, a little over a year before. Jason had been with a different band then, Sloppy 2nds (with the lame "2" and everything), and they'd played the earliest set of the night. He'd been cooling off inside the house, which was being rented by one of his guys he worked with. Low lights, muted laughter, beer bottles clinking, and folks taking advantage of the ambiance to make out and smoke up.

Jason was nursing a Sam Adams (big spenders at this shindig) when he saw Kristin. She was at a table with a bunch of preppie-looking types, playing cards. They were all twenty-something Greeks, biz and pre-med was Jason's guess. He'd seen their type around at these get-togethers; rich kids slumming around with the GDIs (God Damned Independents, a derogatory term that the Greeks used for non-Greeks) seeking thrills and a taste of how the other 99% lived.

Kristin later told him that she had been ready to jet. She'd only come along because they were her classmates, and she hadn't had anything else to do that night. Once there, though, her mates had cliqued up and ignored all the regular folks. Bored by their insular attitude, she had just been waiting for that hand to end before making a polite exit.

Suddenly, car headlights swept the room as someone pulled their beater in to park in the yard. Jason happened to be looking at Kristin when her face was bathed in illumination. Coincidentally, she happened to be looking his way at the same time.

Their eyes met, and it was as if they recognized each other. Not like "I know who you are", but more like "I know what you want." In that instant, Jason knew he wanted her.

He stood, and so did Kristin. He watched as, without so much as a glance at her companions, she began to approach him. The intervening crowd seemed to part for her passage.

Jason felt some connection, some electricity, some force between them, something that only increased the closer to him she got. A moment later she was standing right in front of him, and they stared into each other's eyes.

Kristin took the beer bottle from Jason's hand. It was fresh from the cooler, speckled with droplets of cold water. She ran the bottle across her forehead, and then slowly slid it down her cheek, down the side of her neck, down past her sternum, between her breasts, lower...

Jason caught her by the wrist, felt the warmth of her as his knuckles brushed against her stomach. He felt strength in her arm; she was not a weak woman, and he was overcome by a desire to touch her more.

Releasing her wrist, his hand continued down her body, palm flat against her belly, eager fingers exploring the fly of the jean shorts she wore. Their eyes still locked on one another, Jason's hand sliding down to the place where her legs met. Probing, teasing, as Kristin sighed and caught her breath. He looked down to see what he had, so far, only been feeling.

Kristin hit him with the bottle. He was never sure whether it was intentional or not. All he knew for certain is that he felt the impact of the bottle against the back of his head. And then their arms were around each other.

Groping, pulling, straining, either to pull each other together or pushing each other away, it was impossible to tell. It was part making out, part grappling.

During their wrestling match their lips found each other. There was no thought, no reason, no consideration of consequences or other people's reactions to them. They feasted, seemingly wanting to devour one another.

Jason's hands roamed freely across her body, under and over her clothes, grasping at every part of her that felt good. And to Jason touch, every part of her felt good.

Kristin did the same, gripping his butt, squeezing his cock, and running her sharp little nail points across his abdomen and biceps. Jason kept feeling the beer bottle impacting various parts of his body, registering the sensation but not the pain, until at some point Kristin let it clatter to the floor.

They had started out at the couch, but their frenzied groping took them from room to room. They slammed into walls and knocked over tables. At one point, Jason had a brief moment of clarity, and realized that he had pinned her arms against a wall and was staring into her eyes with something that felt like... what? Longing? Anger? Hunger?

"Hey?" he said. "What's going–"

...was as far as he got before Kristin bared her teeth and lunged for his cheek. She missed, and Jason head butted her in response. His moment of clarity was gone, and they were back at it.

Eventually they found themselves alone in an unused room. The only light came from a streetlamp outside. Orange-tinted streaks of brilliance lanced through the gaps in the blinds.

They fell onto a bed, with Jason on top. He ripped off her tank top while she ground her crotch against his chest, moaning and grunting.

Next thing Jason knew he was upright again, lifted by Kristin, and slammed hard against the bedroom door. She pulled down his pants, popping the button on the fly as she did so. Somehow her shorts and panties were already off. Again, Jason didn't know who'd been responsible for what.

Jason was hard. It wasn't even a question. It was as if that had always been the state of his cock: erect and throbbing, eager and relentless.

Kristin didn't wait for him to pull down his boxers. She jumped onto him, mounting him with her legs wrapped around his waist. Jason accommodated by supporting her ass, and she began grinding against him, ready or not.

Jason turned them around, so that now Kristin was pressed against the door. His cock was out, briefly, before he entered her. One continuous, achingly slow thrust, during which Kristin squealed, voice rising in pitch, as he buried his manhood into her.

Kristin ran her nails down his back. Hard. He could feel the skin splitting as blood was drawn. He began to fuck her, fast and hard. She fucked him right back, thrusting into him with a frenzied force to match his own.

There was no finesse to this. It was raw, powerful, animal fury. Rutting like wild beasts. Their hips slammed against each other. Her breasts mashed into his chest, diamond-hard nipples drilling into him. They kissed and bit and scratched at each other, their intensity producing gashes and welts that went unheeded.

The door was loose in its frame, and it rattled continuously while they fucked. Jason was dimly aware of cheering and catcalls from the other side of the door, as the other partygoers realized what was going on inside and had to add their two cents.

The only sounds that really mattered to Jason, though, were from Kristin. Between grunting and gasping, she spoke. After a fashion, anyway. She spat monosyllables at him, but they were all the right ones.

"Yes... fuck... fuck... oh... yes... FUCK... oh... fuck... me... fuck... me... fuck... me... FUCK... ME... oh... fuck... yes... oh... yes... fuck... FUCK... MEEEE..."

Jason was just as shameless, straining to do just that, while supporting her weight and pistoning hot cock into Kristin's simmering box.

"Uhh...uhhh...HUUUUH...AHHHH...hah...HAH...AHHH"

This was fucking, and somehow beyond fucking. This was unfettered lust, hungry and insatiable. It was beyond feeling, yet immersed in sensuality. They sought release in each others' bodies, but would find it only after they had sampled every last morsel of pleasure the other had to offer.

Kristin came soundlessly, her mouth gaping open in a silent scream. She gripped his shoulders, digging her fingernails into him like hooks. She held Jason with her eyes, wonder and confusion and something like sorrow playing across her features. He felt her pussy walls trembling around his cock as he held her in place, impaled on him all the way to the root. Her hips quaked against his with tremendous force, and her torso convulsed as if she were choking.

Seeing this,feelingthis, put Jason on a hair-trigger. His cock, enveloped by the oven of her hungry, muscular cunt, was ready to blow. It wouldn't take much.

Kristin, recovering somewhat, inhaled deeply, biting her lower lip.

"Fuck..." she sighed.

Jason unloaded. He felt his cock straining, spasming, spurting into her, filling her pussy with load after load roiling jism.

Unlike Kristin, his orgasm wasn't silent. He shouted. "aaaaaaaAAAAAHHH... haaaaaAHHHH... UHHHHHHhhhh!... gaaaAAAHHhhh..."

Kristin, meanwhile, received his load beatifically, eyes watching his face, swaying her hips against him, feeling the force and timbre of his orgasm. Feeling his every inch during that most intimate moment.

After he had spent himself inside Kristin, Jason began to return to his senses. He felt his knees buckle, and, sensing that they were about to give, he lifted Kristin away from the door and fell backwards with her onto the (up until now superfluous) bed.

Kristin lay on top of him, as winded as he, and they breathed hard together, the sweat from their exertions mingling on their skin. Jason was still deep inside her, and still fantastically hard. He wanted more.

Kristin regained her composure first. Straining with the effort, she pushed herself up off his chest, straddling him, joined together where their sexes met.

"Jesus..." Jason breathed.

Kristin laughed. "I don't take you for a praying man," she said, "but if you are, you're gonna have to do a lot more than that to atone for that seriously wicked fuck."

Jason was stunned that she was able to speak at all so soon after, let alone so eloquently. He stared at her uncomprehendingly, for far too long, before it registered that she was making with the funny.

"What's the matter?" she asked, mockingly. "Did I fuck you stupid?"

"Uh..." Jason managed, "little bit, yeah."

Kristin smiled slyly, and shifted her hips against him.

"Mmm...feels like someone wants more," she said. "Whaddaya say? Wanna go for full retard?"

In response, Jason reached out to grab her by the waist. Kristin stretched her arms over her head and moaned as they resumed their grinding.

The second time was longer and slower, quieter and more gentle, but no less intense. Jason lasted for a good long time, touching her body all over, getting to know the landscape of her.

Kristin complemented his thrusting with her own, and slid her slick love canal expertly along his cock with sensual relish.

Jason felt himself come again, erupting into her for several long, deep strokes as she milked the cum from him. But he didn't stop fucking her after he came. He didn't want to stop, he couldn't, until her sex-hunger was satisfied and he was steeped again in the power of her orgasm.

Soon enough, Jason was rewarded by the powerful quaking of Kristin's pussy around his cock, letting him that she had joined him in the land of the Mighty O.