Love. Lust. Lost. Ch. 02

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"Er. Hi." I said so she looked up from her magazine, her jaws working overtime on a whole packet of gum. "I think there should be a pass for me. Is this where I pick it up?" The girl nodded and pulled a wooden box in front of her filled with sealed white envelopes.

"Name?"

"Philip er Jenkins." I mumbled, almost unable to speak, but my heart sank as she searched fruitlessly through the box.

"Who left you the ticket?" She asked, her face a mask of terminal boredom.

"Er. I'm a friend of the band." I said vaguely.

"Oh. Right." She said, her manner transforming and her face proving it wouldn't crack if it had to be subjected to a smile. Standing, she reached up and retrieved a second, smaller box from a shelf above the window.

"Mr Jenkins?" she asked. I nodded. She flicked more carefully though the box, but just looked up and shook her head.

"It's not here." She said. There was a slight shrug of her black clad shoulders. "Do you know who left it for you?"

"Actually it was Avril." I said "But if it's not about, it doesn't matter. I'll catch up with her later or something." I said, trying to sound nonchalant whilst my crestfallen soul lay shattered at my feet. I waved my hand and started to turn away, my eyes hot and stinging.

"You know Avril?" She asked, her manner totally transformed. I nodded and returned her shrug.

"Look, if it's a problem, it doesn't matter." I repeated, again turning to go, suddenly sure that it was time to make a break for it and head home.

"Wait a sec." She called, stopping me in my tracks. "Davey?" She called out of the side of the booth, towards someone I could not see. "Davey. Have you got a pass for a Mr Jenkins?"

Almost instantly an enormous bald head poked comically into view sideways.

"Mr Jenkins?" growled Humpty in a deep, gravely voice. I nodded and he appeared in full view, stooping to be seen through the window. He was no longer comical in any way, he must have been 6"10 and 350 pounds. "Come this way." He said and the girl nodded at me approvingly.

Hulk Humpty opened a door that was set into the wall with no handle on my side and beckoned me through. As I stepped over the threshold he handed me a red credit card pass on a length of matching ribbon.


"Don't lose this. They're gold." He said. I slipped the ribbon around my neck. "Tuck it in." He said. "I'll introduce you to a few guys. Once they know you, you won't need it anyway. Basically, you can go anywhere with that, but I'll show you where anywhere is. There's free food, a bar and of course the chill-out room and bands dressing rooms."

He led me down a corridor and through another door which came out in a private bar.

"John," he called to a man of equal stature, "this is Mr Jenkins. He's a red." Humpty looked down at me. "Okay?" He asked. I nodded. "John's your man, but basically, that's it. There's the bar, the food's through there, the hall is through that one." He continued, pointing the way with colossal sausage fingers. "And the bands are through there. The support'll be on in about ten." He continued checking his watch. "They're worth a peek. Pretty good." And with that, he turned and left. I nodded at John. It all felt a little surreal, especially as I was now here on my own, whilst 1,500 people queued for a beer on the other side of the wall. I did the only thing you can do in these circumstances. I turned to the bar and put myself at the head of a queue of one.

I sipped my pint and listened to the muffled tuning up and sound checks. People, mostly event security, drifted in and out, some wandered through to the performer's area, others simply seemed to be filling time. A squat man in a dark suit strode confidently through, nodded to staff and looked at me suspiciously, then strode on without a word.

"Support'll be on in five." John called and I nodded in recognition.

"Where is everyone? Or does everyone with a magical red pass get their own private bar?"

"Not many people with an all-areas pass stop for a drink. They're in too much of a rush to get through there." He said, nodding towards the door with its misleading 'Performers Only' plague screwed to it. "I'm guessing you're not a competition winner."

"Friend of the band." I said self-importantly. "Thought they'd probably have better things to do with themselves. I can catch up with them after the gig." I looked briefly towards the door, my guts like a basket of snakes. I knew that just a thin piece of wood separated us, but I just didn't know if I could step through. What would I do if she treated me like a competition winner? What would I do if she jumped into my embrace and smothered me with kisses? I drained my pint and placed it on the bar next to its replacement already sitting their awaiting my attention. I nodded my thanks to the barman.

"Who's the support?" I asked gulping the head off my beer.

"Local guys. Hiding Place. They're pretty good." He finished as the noise levels rose, indicating that the roadies had probably left the stage.

I was busy nursing my pint and staring at a gig list pinned to the wall, ready to head into the hall when the support band took to the stage. I didn't notice the performer's door open.

"God, there you are. I thought you'd stood me up." Her drawl cut me dead and the condensation-speckled glass almost slipped through my fingers. As I turned, I just managed to fumble it safely on to the bar.

I turned to face her, blushing from my hair to my socks. She bounced towards me beaming, her hair kissing her shoulders. She was dressed simply in faded blue Levis and one of her own tour t-shirts tightly hugging her frame, her pert breasts pressing firmly against the stretched cotton.

I stepped towards her and opened my arms to greet her. She leaped into my embrace and I enveloped her in my arms and swung her around, feeling my heart race as she wrapped her feet around my calves, crushing her body against mine. She smelled fresh from the shower. Soap clean, with just a hint of perfume. Lost in her touch and smell, I felt my body react until my jeans were full and tight.

As our pirouette slowed, her feet found the floor and she withdrew her face from where it was buried in my neck, her smile replaced by a serious expression I did not recognise. Her eyes were moist and sparkling. She reached up on the very tips of her toes and kissed my lips. Our bodies were still pressed tightly and as her tongue brushed my lips, I heard her moan as she ground her hips against me before severing the kiss.

"Come on," she said, taking my hand, "we can watch the support from the balcony. There's everything you need. Food. Drink. Me." And with that she dragged me through the door as applause rose from the hall and the opening chords rang out.

Introductions to the band were a blur. It was nice and all that, but not why I was here and her reaction to me downstairs had simply rocketed my expectations into orbit. The bar was festooned with party food, but my tangled gut just flipped at the thought.

As the band played, the privileged crowd scattered around the balcony ate, drank and jostled for position with the band, so with a fresh pint, I found myself alone in a crowd, my eyes constantly following her as she PR'd the pack.

By the time the support struck into their anthem and their loyal band bounced to the beat, my body had been numbed by free beer and my eyes ached from straining unblinkingly at her through the gloom. As the rest of her band began to drift backstage, she walked across to me, her hands clasped behind her back, her shoulders swinging. Her familiar confidence had evaporated and she approached me like a nervous teenager.

"Are you coming back for a bit?" She shouted up into my ear.

"Yeah!" I blurted out, eager not to lose her now I had her attention. "Er. But I don't want to be in the way." I said, suddenly feeling very much like a competition winner. She just fired me a look that made me feel like a kid, so when she stretched up and whispered,

"I'll make it worth your while." Her hot breath tickling my ear, I followed her through the thinning crowd, eyes burning holes in my back.

She kicked her dressing room door shut and threw herself into my arms.

"God, I've wanted you all fucking day." She said and sealed her lips around mine, her tongue desperate and searching. "Last night really lit my fuse." She said staring impenetrably into my eyes. "You've no idea what you were doing to me. I thought you'd stood me up. I'm the kinda girl who gets her own way. I was fucking furious." The disbelief in her voice was clear evidence of her own rock-solid self-confidence. I shrugged.

"Fat fucking chance." I said and kissed her hungrily.

"Does that ever sleep?" She said, squeezing the painful bulge straining against my jeans. I simply moaned at her touch, just wanting more.


She grabbed my belt and dragged me to the table by the far wall of the small room. She tugged on it frantically, then almost tore the buttons off my jeans. My steel hard, painfully restrained cock sprang free through the fly of my shorts and she sank her lips immediately around it.

I leaned back against the edge of the table as she scooped my balls out and held them tightly in her hand, squeezing them rhythmically as she swallowed my cock inch by inch, until I felt her flinch as I filled her throat. As she retreated back up my shaft, there was a ring of scarlet lipstick around the base of my cock, glistening with her saliva.

I ran my fingers through her long hair and each time she slid down, I pushed her the extra inch until I heard her grunt. As she sucked, her tongue explored every ridge and vein of my swollen shaft, always eager to please.

She wrapped her right hand tightly around the base of my cock and bobbed her head faster as she found less of my shaft to work with.

Kneeling down and changing the angle, she pulled my cock down more horizontally and rocked back and forth on her ankles. The sensation of her tongue working my cock was heaven and I let her dictate her own pace, taking my hands off her head and instead gripped the lip of the table until my knuckles whitened.

As she salivated over my dick, my shaft shone and her saliva ran over my balls. She looked up into my eyes, watching me watching her and grinned around my cock, enjoying the ride as much as I was. Her eyes were wide, wild and filled with lust.

"Oh fuck." I whispered as I stared down at her. ""Oh god, that should do it." I gasped and my reaction simply spurred her on. Her hand was a blur and she sucked greedily on my very sensitive tip, leaving the middle portion exposed and shining in the harsh lighting.

Her lips and tongue concentrating on my tip made my legs quiver and I leant more heavily on the table to take the weight off my feet.

"Shit. That's good." I panted. "Oh yeah."

Again she looked into my eyes and winked cheekily. It sent me cascading over the abyss. "Shit. Oh. Shit yes." I panted and felt my cock harden further, twitch and with that I came.

With her lips clamped tightly around my spasming shaft, she squeezed my balls and sucked me until I was spent, never once letting her eyes leave mine. She gulped once and then rested both hands on my thighs as she slowly ran her tongue around my tip until the sensation was simply too extreme to bare and I had to bend down and scoop her back onto her feet, whilst my legs trembled with the force of my orgasm.

She grinned at me, content at being able to reduce me to such a wreck. I bent down and kissed her, her lips slightly sticky with the residue of my semen. I moaned as she ran her fingernails lightly down my face.

Hardly a word had passed between us, since she had dragged me off the balcony and the silence was only broken by an authoritative rap on the door that had me clambering at my jeans.

"Stage in five." Came the holler before they strode off to the room next door.


"I'd better…" She said and I nodded.

"See you later." I said as she turned to leave. "Knock 'em dead." I called after her, but she was gone. I waited a moment until I heard the second door open and close, and I knew she was next door with the rest of the guys.

Guiltily, I stuck my head out, but the corridor was empty, so I scuttled out, my legs still quivering, the stiffness in my jeans refusing to die.

By the time the band took the stage for the third encore, they were exhausted, but the crowd, not ready to let them leave, rose as one as the spotlight illuminated Avril, already stood, clasping the microphone in both hands, her guitar hanging from its strap around her neck.

I had spent the gig wandering between the pit and the balcony for two totally different views and atmospheres. It also ensured I neither had to pay or queue for a drink. This time, I was stood at the front of the balcony, my elbows resting on the rail, staring down at the band through the white hot lights.

As the guitars picked up the intro, I watched her as she looked around the crowd, then up to the balcony and finally to where I stood and her eyes rested on mine, staying that way until the end of the first line, before she resumed her very public love affair with her audience.

The buzz backstage was unmistakable. The sold-out gig was a total success. The band had enjoyed the never ending encores and the crowd, when it finally left, did so with a well satisfied babble.

The support band was milking the limelight and did their best to intercept anyone who they thought may be heading past their dressing room. I managed to escape their clutches as they locked on to a group of girls and headed off down the corridor.

As I past her dressing room, I recognised her voice and turned instinctively to it. Still in her stage gear, her long hair was wet and plastered to her face and neck, her t-shirt, dark with perspiration, clung to her skin. She saw me and motioned for me to stay where I was. She wrapped up the conversation and briefly introduced me to her PR manager, before ushering her out and me in.

Even dishevelled and sweaty her beauty was unmistakeable, perhaps more so as it was now pure and un-cosmetic. She grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me into her arms. Her eyes were electric, her mind wired on adrenaline.

"What d'ya reckon?" She asked, her fist full of my shirt.

"Pretty cool." I replied. I've loved live music ever since my folks first let me out, and it would be fair to say it was up there with the best.

She smiled, content at the compliment and probably glad that I hadn't simply poured treacle over her for the sake of it. She reached up and kissed me, sucking my bottom lip into her mouth. This time it was my turn to moan as my heart dissolved. Her natural scent filled my senses and flooded my head. In an instant I was lost again, but she pulled away.

"Ugh. I need a shower." She grunted, turning her nose up and stepping away, running her fingers through her hair to scrape it from her face and neck. "You hungry?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Hungry for something." To which she responded with a sharp punch to my upper arm. "A little." I replied "What's your plan?"

"Shower, change, drink, eat." She said. "Sound good?" I nodded, still unable to tear my eyes from her.

"Do you want me to ring ahead and grab somewhere. It's getting late. How many are there?"

"Just two. I'll leave where up to you." She kicked off her trainers and started to pull her t-shirt off over her head, stopping just short of her breasts, leaving me with a tantalising view of her flat stomach and, excruciatingly, the initial swell of her breasts. "You might want to get a drink in the bar, I don't want to embarrass you again."

"I could always stay and scrub your back." She stepped back over to me, her hands still frozen in the process of pulling off her t-shirt.

"They'd better be time for that later. You owe me" She pouted and kissed me again, before turning for the bathroom, pitching her t-shirt into the corner of the room as she went.

It was knocking on the door of tomorrow by the time she made it to the bar and the place was deserted except for the crash and thump of the road crew dismantling the stage. Full of beer and bubbles, I had moved on to Jack Daniels and ice, by the glass not the bottle, so the rock n' roll image was not quite complete.

I was perched on a table chatting to one of the crew, a Hell's Angel living tattoo, when Avril walked in. In complete contrast to the previous evening, she had swapped the elegance of her satin dress for the plainly simple blue jeans and dark green long-sleeved t-shirt. Her hair, which was still wet from the shower, was pulled back into a tight pony tail that hung between her shoulder blades. She wore similar lipstick to the previous evening, although this is where the make-up stopped, showing off her pale and perfect skin.

"Vodka?" I asked. She screwed up her face and shook her head like a child refusing their medicine.

"No. Let's get out of here. I need some fresh air." She said taking my hand and dragging me towards the exit, her eyes still aflame.

"So what's the plan?" She asked as the stage door swung shut behind us.

"Well," I began, eager to know what she would think of my carefully hatched plan. "I thought if you were hungry, we could just grab a burger. There's not much else open at this time of night." I continued with a quick shrug. "Then, as you treated me last night, how about I treat you and we head back to the hotel for a bottle of fizz?"

"Are you going to go all stalker on me again?"

I shook my head and slipped my arm around her. The funny thing was, now I had got her to myself, I would be content with just enjoying her company. I knew this really was the end, there would be no tomorrow, and if last night was to be the only night we slept together, well, perhaps that would help preserve it in my mind. She returned the favour and slipped her hand into the back pocket of my jeans, pulling herself close and resting her head against my arm. On the other hand.

McDonalds was deserted and we bagged a table upstairs by the window so we could look out across the town centre. After what for me had been tantamount to a 40-hour day, I was famished - a feeling clearly shared by Avril. Within minutes what had looked like an impossible mountain of food was reduced to wrappers and with the detritus spread across the yellow plastic table, we both sat back and coaxed the food down into our stomachs.

Full and warm, my body submitted to an overwhelming fatigue and after the third stifled yawn, she leant across the mess and took my hands.


"Am I keeping you up or just boring you?" I shook my head.

"It's been a very long day."

"Do you want to call it a night?"

"That depends on what you mean by call it a night." I said, suddenly aware that she may be looking for the opportunity to bail out. "I'm not ready to go home just yet, if that's what you mean."

"There's no way you're going home yet. I'm looking forward to what a man with your tastes classes as good champagne. Besides, I'm still wired. I could keep you going all night." She added with a sly smirk.

"For that, I could stay up all week."

"Speaking of which, what's your recovery time like normally?" She asked, leaning closer to me across the table, smiling wickedly.

"Pretty good." I replied "Why are you ready for it now?"

"Yeah. I am. Right now." She said, glancing furtively around the deserted floor. "I've been horny as fuck all night."

"Well what did you have in mind, just sweeping all this onto the floor and going for it on the table?" As she raised an eyebrow at my suggestion as she nibbled sexily on her bottom lip.

Without a word, she stood and walked past me. I craned my neck unsure whether I was supposed to follow, but she didn't look back so I watched as disappeared through the toilet door.