Playing Musician

. . . and then Damien Taylor pulled out again.

Brigitte moaned and whimpered, and actually begged. "Please," she pleaded in a voice hardly above a hoarse whisper as she wiggled her ass back at him, searching for more of his cock.

She was denied, however, the rock star slumping down to the mattress next to her. "On top," he commanded.

Brigitte was suddenly angry. She was not accustomed to being treated in such a manner; her men were always working as hard as they could to make her cum, but this prick was stopping every time she got close! She wanted to orgasm so badly and the man would not let her finish. She had to, HAD TO finish herself off before she passed out from her near-delirious need.

Finally, she reasoned in that moment, she could at least control the situation while she was on top; there would be nothing to stop her from reaching the climax she craved so desperately with her directing the flow. She would fuck him wildly to get herself off.

Which, she realized suddenly, was exactly what he wanted.

He rolled to his back and the buxom teenage blonde straddled him, her long legs on either side of his waist. She grasped his cock and guided it into her wetness, and groaned as the thick meat stretched her tight pink folds and plunged into her depths as she lowered herself onto him. When she settled, she slowly began to roll her hips back and forth on top of him.

Brigitte placed her hands on his chest to steady herself and closed her eyes as she worked herself back and forth. She was determined to find her release, and manipulated her movements to grind her clitoris against him to bring that about.

The only movement the rock star made was to reach up and fondle her tight breasts, cupping them and kneading them as she rode him up and down. Her nipples were shriveled little nubs and he rolled them between his fingers, pinching them lightly. Then he slipped a finger up her neck and into her mouth, and she took it and suckled on it hungrily, just as she had his cock earlier that night.

Brigitte moaned loudly as pleasure coursed through her. She fucked him faster, as fast as her hips and body would allow, grinding her ass into his waist as she dug her fingers into his chest. It did not take long for her to reach the breaking point, and she rode him furiously towards her own sweet release.

And then it happened.

It began as a sharp tingle in the heart of her pussy and slowly spread over the whole of her body, her limbs quivering violently as the core of her body stiffened. White lights erupted behind her eyes and waves of intense, almost burning pleasure coursed through her veins.

She whimpered and wailed and writhed, thrashing around above him, not caring what she looked like, not caring what he thought, not caring what kind of lewd show she was giving him as she climaxed. She cared only for herself and her own pleasure in that moment, the latter unspeakable and the best orgasm, simply stated, that she had ever had.

And then she was spent.

She collapsed forward, slumping onto Damien, her breasts squishing into his chest as she sucked in ragged gasps of air. When she opened her eyes a long time later and the deliriousness ebbed, she found him staring at her.

"Use your mouth," he said simply.

For a moment Brigitte was confused, not comprehending, and then she realized that his still-swollen shaft was still nestled deep inside her pussy. He was still hard, which meant he had not climaxed a second time. Comprehension dawned on her and she looked at him again.

He smiled, not about to give in.

She smiled, knowing she would do what he asked, wondering how it was he so effortlessly knifed through her defenses. This was another rule she had; she did not suck cock after sex, finding it, too, far too degrading. She would, however, do it now, and even before she realized she had decided to do so found herself shifting positions until she was hovering over his cock again, this time with her face. She closed her eyes and parted her lips to take him into her mouth.

The taste of herself on his cock was unmistakable as she went to work on him. She hummed softly as she slurped wetly on his cock, her head bobbing up and down with increasing speed. She moved her lips up and down, wrapped tight around his shaft, her tongue pressed underneath the most sensitive area. She sucked and licked him vigorously, using all of her best techniques to get him off.

He tensed suddenly and she knew he was ready. His fingers ran through her silken blonde hair as he took hold of her head and pushed her down, forcing his cock for the second time deep into the recesses of her mouth. He groaned, and exploded.

"Swallow," he grunted, and she had no choice but to do as she was told.

Brigitte gulped down load after thick load as it streamed out of him in waves for several long moments. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, his body relaxed and lay still. She curled up next to him, one arm draped over his chest, one leg draped over his legs, and listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

And it was in this position, forever and a day away from eighth period history class and completely clueless as to the actual identity of the man whom she had just fucked, that Brigitte Erikson fell asleep.

Part Six: An Extended Performance

Josh opened his eyes to find the room still swathed in darkness.

He felt both hot and cold by turns: cold where the air touched down upon his exposed flesh, hot in those places where the body of Brigitte Erikson was wrapped around him. They had moved very little, sleeping almost in the places they settled when the coupling ended.

And what a glorious coupling it had been.

Kayden James was beautiful and uninhibited and unabashedly sexual, and she would forever remain the epitome of womanly perfection in the mind of Josh Redding, the one woman he would choose to take into his bed above all others. She was his teacher, his lover, his friend, and responsible for much of his carnal character.

But this was a night he would long remember, too, and truly the night he would look back upon as the night he came into his own. Brigitte Erikson was no easy conquest, no matter who she thought he was; he still had to perform, and perform well.

Which he had.

He mounted her quite suddenly, surprising her by climbing onto the bed while her own pleasure distracted her, shocking her as he buried his cock inside her constricting depths. The heat and pressure were intense; she was burning hot and unbearably tight.

His hands were all over her body, teasing and probing, clutching at her bottom and breasts, pinching her nipples as he fucked her with slow, continuous strokes. Beneath him, she writhed about, eyes fluttering. It was awesome sight: her legs split off to either side of him, his shaft sliding in and out of her wet pussy, stretching the pink folds wide, and the fact that it was Brigitte Erikson, high school queen turned personal fuck slut, made it all the better.

Inspiration flashed then as he pinched her nipple and she cried out, and he withdrew and ordered her to flip over, which she did with his help, and soon he was fucking her from behind, her luscious round ass slapping up against his waist. He forced her to beg for it, which he enjoyed, and when he entered her again he did so all at once, brutally.

There were almost too many things to enjoy, it seemed: he loved the way her hips tapered into her tiny waist and the two divots just above her bottom, he loved the way her blonde hair whipped around her head as her torso thrashed about, her loved the ripples of her ass flesh, and he loved the way it felt to be inside her, both the mental feelings the fucking engendered and the physical sensations it produced.

When he noticed her getting close, he withdrew, which was difficult for him to do, but necessary, stemming both their tides. He slumped to the bed and ordered her on top, and again she complied. He knew she was frustrated, wanting desperately to climax, and he knew she would go absolutely crazy on his cock when she got him back inside her, which was just another little something he learned from his personal muse, Kayden James.

And so she mounted him and rode him hard and fast, bucking and rolling her hips, the velvety walls of her pussy clutching and squeezing at his shaft as she worked her body to squeeze every drop of pleasure from his cock, and the view from the mattress was spectacular, the underside of her swollen breasts so tempting he could not help but fondle them. His hands trailed down her sides and groped at the supple flesh of her bottom, his fingers enjoying every inch her young blonde teenage body had to offer. He did not do much, letting her work to finish herself off.

Which she did, and quickly, and when her orgasm abated she obeyed him one last time and suckled him to completion, cleansing his cock of her own juices as she gobbled first his cock, and then his healthy load of sperm.

After which, they both fell asleep, limbs moderately inclined, and it was in almost the same position that Josh found himself now, some time later. It was still dark, that much was obvious, but he had no idea what time it actually was, and to be honest, did not care. Gorgeous female creatures with no clothes tended to overcome most other thoughts in the minds of men, and this moment was no different.

Josh pushed on her shoulders, rolling the girl limply onto her back with him on his side next to her. Her creamy breasts rose like mountains from her chest, full and round, and he cupped the right one in his hand as he lowered his mouth to her collarbone, kissing it softly. It was not every day one had access to a delectable body like Brigitte's; he would enjoy it while he could. He stroked downward from her breasts over the cool skin of her stomach, his touch light and feathery, and she murmured quietly in her sleep.

He lowered his lips to her nipple, suckling her breast with his mouth, using his lips and tongue with abundance, his teeth with restraint. She tasted wonderful and he relished the opportunity.

It was as his fingers crept down the flat of her stomach and into the tendril of blonde curls below her navel that she finally began to stir, long minutes after his tender slaver of her breasts began. She opened her eyes and looked down at him.

Brigitte needed a moment, in the haziness that accompanied waking from deep slumber, to gather herself and account for her bearings, but when she remembered where she was, and who she was with, and saw and felt what he was doing, even now, to her body, she sighed.

The sigh cut short abruptly when his fingers slid lower, delving into the rubbery folds of her sex, and turned to whimper as one of the digits pressed deeper, penetrating her outer lips, slipping smoothly between and beneath them to swirl around the swollen little nub. He circled it once, twice, three times slowly, and flicked at it with the pad of his thumb. His mouth was still working wonders on her big fleshy breasts. Goose bumps broke out over her skin and she shuddered, sagging into the mattress.

Josh was enjoying his playtime with Brigitte's body; things had progressed so fast before, he had not really had much time to truly savor her delights. He was determined, knowing there would likely never be a repeat performance, to do so now.

Which gave him an idea.

He abruptly broke from kissing and touching her, and rolled over and out of bed. She looked up at him, confused, and he looked down at her smiling, gazing again upon her wonderful nude physical form: long legs, lean waist, flat tummy, and luscious breasts so full and round and pliant, he was impressed he was able to break away from them. Her blonde hair was wild about her head in the way hair often was after sex and sleep, falling from her shoulders in waves. Her bright blue eyes were wide and wondrous.

He extended his hand. "Come with me," he said simply, and while his voice was still firm, so, too, was it soft, and her eyes followed suit and softened as she took what was offered.

He led her into the bathroom, stopping before the counter. A massive mirror hung along the wall and he enjoyed the sight of her backside, the sleek track of her spine and the way it sloped into the shelf of her heart-shaped rump. He stepped forward and planted a kiss on her lips, which, he thought fleetingly, there had been very little of thus far. She melted against him and his arms went around her as they came together.

Her hands began to move over his body, exploring and teasing, and aimless. Against him, her breasts squished into his chest, Brigitte let her fingers walk across his flesh, from his shoulder blades down to his buttocks, then around to his front, which, she discovered, was already hard.

He chuckled as she reached down and grasped his shaft, and said, "Your hands are fantastic."

Brigitte grinned right back. "I know," she answered smugly.

The was a heavy touch of the old Brigitte in her voice, the girl Josh and everyone else at their high school knew all too well: the popular, ever-confident, ever-in-charge Brigitte Erikson. He did not happen to care, however, as it was in the very next moment that her delicate hands came up to cup his testicles, toying and fondling the soft sac of his scrotum with a great degree of skill.

Josh sighed as the gorgeous young blonde tickled his balls, gazing down at her body as she did so and helping himself to an eyeful of her luscious breasts.

"Incredible," he murmured with another sigh, and he realized he could be speaking about so many different things.

With her left hand, Brigitte massaged his testicles; her right wrapped around his shaft and stroked it, tugging up and down. It felt extraordinary, but there were bigger fish for Josh to fry; hand jobs were great, but there were many things better. He intended to initiate them.

He put his own hands on her shoulders. She sucked in a breath and looked up at him, and he smiled and kissed her once more as his own fingers trailed down her skin through her shoulder blades to the small of her back. He stopped without warning at the divots just above her bottom and reversed course, coming around her sides and sliding up her stomach.

Which brought him again to her breasts.

They were magnificent, simply magnificent, supple mounds of pliant flesh, large and delicious. Josh spent long moments playing with them, cupping and squeezing them, rolling the nipples in his fingers and across the flat of his palms, before his hands crept over her shoulders and down again to the small of her back.

This time, however, his hands did not stop and crawled over the firm curve of her buttocks; his fingers splayed out and dug into the taut flesh, squeezing and tugging the cheeks every which way, jiggling it roughly. One finger slipped into her crack and swirled over her anus.

Brigitte giggled. "Naughty," she cooed into his mouth as she wiggling her bottom away.

Josh broke their kiss and looked at her with a sudden and fierce intensity, and her grin vanished. She was getting more comfortable, more assertive, and it was time to recapture control. His hands lashed out and took hold of her wrists, and roughly drew her arms away from him and down onto her hips.

Her bright blue eyes were wide and staring right into his. Her breathing suddenly labored; the girl knew something was about to happen . . . and she was right.

Josh spun her violently around and trapped her body hard against his. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, pinning her wrists between her breasts and against her chest in one fluid motion. She squealed as she felt his rock-hard erection jam lengthwise into the crack of her ass, but instead of fighting what was happening, the little slut accepted and encouraged it; her hips grinded back into his.

He grunted approvingly and began to move again, pulling her arms away from her body and pushing her forward bodily and bending her over until both of her hands pressed firmly against the bathroom counter. Their eyes met via the mirror, hers a mixture of wonder and lust, his hard and commanding from their place over her shoulder, both with a twinkle that spoke of what was soon to come. Her blonde hair was still wild coming off her head.

"Don't move," he whispered low into her ear, and she nodded.

He released his grip and his hands went immediately to her hips, pulling them roughly back to bend her over at the waist, her back and legs forming a perfect ninety-degree angle. She never removed her hands, however, despite the coarse way he manipulated her body; her palms remained firmly pressed against the counter. Her pendulous breasts looked fantastic where they dangled from her chest.

Whack!

Josh leveled a crushing blow to the girl's bare bottom. She squealed and yelped, wiggling her hips to combat the sting.

"Tell me what you want," Josh said. Not a request. An order.

"I . . . I . . ." Brigitte's breathing quickened, her chest heaving as she struggled to answer.

Whack!

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed resoundingly over the tile floor as he smacked her square on the backside once more, and he heard the barest hint of a whimper trickle through her lips.

"Tell me," he said, still quietly and yet somehow much more insistent.

Brigitte closed her eyes. "Fuck me," she whispered.

Whack!

In the mirror he saw a tear trickle down her cheek.

"Aaaahhhhh!" the girl wailed, and cried, "I want you to fuck me!"

His voice was low and fierce, his breath hot in her ear. "What did you say?" he whispered, a devilish edge to his words. His fingers delved into her lovely pink pussy from behind, spreading her velvety labia. She stiffened and moaned.

"I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME!"

Her body squirmed and writhed, shuddering with arousal. It was amazing how quickly she turned to putty in his hands. Damien Taylor was everything his reputation made him out to be, and more. She was nearly euphoric, despite his dominance, despite the residual sting.

His fingers left her pussy and grabbed a tight hold of her ass. Her body tensed and for the first time she noticed and felt something sticky and wet dripping down her thigh. She was wet and ready, and wondering what was coming next.

Not in a million years would she have guessed what actually happened.

Damien Taylor dropped to a squat behind her and clutched once again at her bottom, and one fluid motion later was spreading the cheeks as far apart as they would go. It was in the next moment, before she could comprehend what was happening, that Brigitte Erikson had her ass eaten for the first time in her life.

Josh touched his lips down to the crinkled hole in the cleavage of her bottom and offered Brigitte's anus a languorous lick with the flat of his tongue. His fingers kneaded the flesh of her rump as his tongue slithered around her puckered pink hole, teasing every wrinkle.

The buxom blonde teenager shrieked and her knees wobbled, and only her hands firm on the countertop kept her from falling completely. She could not believe what was happening. "Not there," she cried in a wavering voice, wiggling her bottom. "It's too nasty!"

His grip tightened and held her in place, and while he did not respond, it was clear he was not going to stop. Suddenly, quite suddenly, a wave of pleasure coursed through her and she felt her anus pulse, and her hips bucked back suddenly into his head. She could not believe how wonderful the foreign sensations felt.

Josh groaned as his face embedded deep into the crack of her ass. He thrust his tongue forward as hard as he could, knowing he would rarely go as deep as he currently was.

Brigitte screamed as a slippery tongue speared right into the depths of her anus, and wiggled around. "Oh my god!" she wailed, and felt herself flush deepest crimson as embarrassment overwhelmed her.