You Can't Be Me I'm A Rock Star

I didn’t know he was a rock star when he picked me up in the club. I mean, I didn’t go out looking to be fucked by a rock star, the idea didn’t occur to me. But I suppose the idea of being fucked by someone did, or maybe I wouldn’t have worn my best underwear, taken so long with my hair and make-up.

I was new in Los Angeles and lonely and it was my room-mate’s idea to take me to this famous club that she said all the rock stars hung out at. I had agreed, thinking to myself that no rock star would ever look at me anyway, I wasn’t blonde, I wasn’t tanned and I wasn’t a D cup. Instead I was short, pale as death, raven-haired and considered my ass and hips too generous, my tits average, although some had appreciated them. The best I could hope for was Joe average as usual, but there was no harm in ogling some famous people along the way.

Predictably, when we got to the club, Anna was gone within 20 minutes and I was left alone in the dark, smoky room, the music deafening, the bass heavy and sensual. I stood on the edge of the dance floor watching hordes of sweaty bodies in a mosh-pit, drinking fast, thinking about tackling the queue at the bar. When I looked over there, I saw a man watching me.

I looked away quickly without bothering to see what he looked like. I wasn’t really in the mood any more, I felt deflated. No one had looked at me all night, I had been abandoned, I was starting to think about snuggling up with my cat when I got home. But I felt his eyes remaining on me, so I looked back in irritation, intending to warn him off.

He stood under the lights by the bar so I had a good view. He was short and thin, a black T-shirt moulded to a lean torso and flat belly, black jeans fastened with a wickedly-studded belt. His hair was dark brown, parted in the middle and just skimming his shoulders. His face was dominated by foreign-looking eyes which looked black as coal at this distance, huge and wide, intense and unblinking. I felt my heart start to increase its work. My gaze swept the rest of his face. His skin was pale for California. He was clean-shaven save for an odd beard which stuck out stiffly from his chin in two long prongs. I should have known then he was a rock star, but the idea never occurred to me. His features were fine, almost delicate, his mouth small, pert and pink, like a rose-bud. He appeared to be the same age as I. I was once again drawn back to his eyes. Then he smiled very slowly at me and turned away towards the bar.

I was left almost gasping, as though he had had his hands on me and removed them suddenly, leaving me desperate for more. He was talking to a woman now, a tall red-head. I felt stupid. He had been flirting that was all, just window-shopping. He was probably with his wife. The intensity of his eyes had left me feeling appreciated though at last and I smiled inwardly at the favour he had done my ego. I could go home now and remember the way the man with the awesome eyes had looked at me like I was someone special.

I put my empty glass on a nearby table and made my way through a heavy black door to the toilets. I passed by the man at the bar, but his face was still turned away from me. I used the toilet,looked at my make-up critically in the mirror. I would smile at him on the way back, I thought to myself, it was the least I owed him for making me feel warm inside. I pushed open the ladies’door, stepping out into the corridor leading back to the club. The music was muffled here, the bass still resounding.

I sensed a silent presence behind me before a cold hand closed firmly and tightly around my wrist. I whirled around in sudden fear, struggling fiercely, my other fist raised to defend myself. Behind me was the man from the bar. My mouth opened in shock but before I could speak, he turned and walked away, his grip on me still tight, dragging me behind him. I allowed him to do it, despite my fear of him. He pushed open the fire door at the end of the corridor and pulled me into a narrow alleyway, dark save for one lamp mounted on the wall. It was under this circle of light that he drew me, pushing me against the wall, his hands on either side of me.

I saw his face close-up for the first time. He really was stunning, my vision across the dark room had not deceived me. His eyes were like nothing I had ever seen before, so huge, so dark and mysterious. His expression was solemn, serious, the intent in his eyes clear and I was a little frightened. I told myself he was barely 3 inches taller than me and slightly built, I did not need to fear him, but it didn’t really work. I was intimidated by his sheer sexual attractiveness, by the fact that I had never found a man like him attractive before, a man whose hair was long and flowing while mine was cropped short like a boy’s, a man who wasn’t 6 feet 3 with huge muscles, a man who had dragged me outside and made it clear with no words what he was going to do to me. Oh yes, I was loving it. The evening had suddenly taken a turn for the better.

His scent was overwhelming me. He smelled so clean. Of aftershave, hair-gel and soap and something less definable - arousal. I longed to press my face into his body and smell his cleanness for myself.

The longer he stood there deliberately scaring me with those eyes, the more my legs started to shake and the damper I felt. He pressed very slowly against me then, watching the reaction on my face as his hard cock nudged me.

I caught my breath in a stifled gasp and as my lips parted involuntarily, he swooped down on them, covering them with his own, his hand grasping the back of my neck. His mouth was so hot and so soft. I had never been kissed like this, ever. My mouth opened further to him to admit his tongue and I met it with my own. I felt his further arousal in the way he held me tighter, kissed me deeper, took panting breaths. If I’d thought I was on the edge, he was at fever-pitch. I was almost awed at what I was doing to him with just a kiss.

He yanked my T-shirt up suddenly and pushed up my lace bra so my breasts spilled free to him and he cupped them firmly in both hands, his thumbs moving across my already hard nipples. I moaned against his mouth and he shifted his lips suddenly to my left breast, fondling the other while he sucked at my nipple.

I felt another rush of wetness soaking my pants. I slid both hands up his T-shirt, lifting it to look at and feel his body. His chest was nice, his nipples tiny and sensitive I found, as I rubbed them gently. A line of hair started at his belly, bisecting it and disappearing below the low waistline of his pants as though showing me the way. With trembling hands I began to open the studded belt. To my surprise, he put his hands on mine and moved them away, then he started to undo my pants. I put my head back against the wall, throbbing with anticipation of his touch.

He dragged my pants down off my hips, exposing the tiny thong I wore that evening and found my clitoris with one finger through the damp material. I gasped and jerked against him instantly. I saw a smile cross his face briefly showing a hint of white teeth and then he hooked the thong aside and thrust a finger instantly inside me. I clutched at his biceps moaning. They were tense and hard under my hands. He inserted another finger and rubbed my clit with his thumb. His other hand was on my bare ass, squeezing and stroking.

I was going wild. I could not remember ever being aroused this fast and this easily before. He was effortless in his ability to control me. I knew any moment he would make me come and I preferred not to let it happen until he’d fucked me. I held back, groaning under his relentless stroking and probing, biting my lip hard. He removed his hand suddenly as though he knew and I saw him glance down at my pants around my ankles, as though trying to work out how best to fuck someone with jeans on.

He dropped to his knees suddenly and began to unlace one trainer. I almost giggled at the ridiculousness of the situation. He pulled off my shoe and then began to manoeuvre my leg out of my jeans and then my thong, leaving them trailing around the other ankle. As he did so, he pressed his mouth to my inner thigh, dangerously close to my aching pussy so I had to stop myself forcing his head up.

He stood up swiftly and began to unbuckle his pants in the sexiest way I had ever seen before, his eyes firmly on mine, his pink tongue flicking out to moisten his lips in an oddly nervous gesture. He pushed his pants down, followed by his boxers and his cock sprang free.

Oh, I was not disappointed. Smooth and thick, circumcised and long, it was a work of art. As I reached out to touch him, he grasped me firmly in both arms and lifted me, sliding me up the wall so the rough concrete scraped my ass. I put my arms around his neck, hanging on tightly. Without further ado, he rammed his cock into me.

I almost screamed with pleasure. He started to thrust hard and fast. I looked into his face. It shone with sweat at the effort of fucking and holding me up. His cheeks and neck were suffused with blood, his long thick lashes lowered over his beautiful eyes. I pressed my mouth suddenly to his and I heard him groan, the first sound he had yet uttered. He devoured my mouth and fucked me harder so I was almost insensible with pleasure. I slid one hand under his T-shirt, up his back, scratching at him uncontrollably. I knew he would not last much longer, he had probably been holding back since he first entered me, but I didn’t mind how long he lasted, he had already scored his points with me.

I felt him stiffen all over. His mouth slid down into the hollow of my neck and I knew his teeth scraped my skin hard enough to leave a mark. He shuddered violently and gave a low hiss of feral pleasure. It was all over.

He was still for a moment and then very slowly he lowered me to the ground. I watched him do up his pants. I watched how he panted for breath and knelt, putting my foot back into my clothes and casting his eyes around as though in a daze for my trainer and pushing my foot back into it. I looked down at him in sheer amazement and frustration that this was really it. He was dressing me again after bringing me to the edge, satisfying himself and leaving me there. I felt tears of disappointment pricking my eyes as he pulled up my pants.

But he only pulled them to my mid-thighs and he remained kneeling, looking up at me. He ran his hands very slowly up my inner thighs and smiled at me, a smile loaded with as much promise as before he had fucked me.

My heart soared. He hadn’t finished with me after all. He shuffled closer to me and slowly spread open my lips to him with his fingers, exposing my clitoris, which he closed his lips on and sucked. I moaned and clasped his head, running my fingers through his silky hair. Then he slowly licked me, his tongue darting inside me and back up to my clit.

Very soon, he sensed I could take no more teasing and decided to put me out of my agony. He began to lick my clit as fast as he was able, working two fingers inside me as he did. I clutched at his shoulders with both hands, my nails digging in, moaning and gasping loudly. The orgasm hit me with a force which almost took me off my feet, were it not for this man holding me upright firmly. I bucked and writhed under his mouth violently, crying out loudly, but he kept his mouth doggedly on me until the last waves died away what felt like hours later.

I remained still, my head back against the wall for a long time, feeling confused, catatonic, like my limbs were submerged in water. My mystery fuck was dressing me again, doing my pants up, manoeuvring my breasts back into my bra. So considerate I thought, beginning to come round and finding to my dismay, my face streaked with tears.

He looked at me, his eyes still intent and kissed me softly, his mouth no less full of desire for me than it was previously. Smiling gently, he wiped my cheeks dry. Then he took my hand and led me back through the fire exit. As we passed the toilet, Anna came out. She opened her mouth to speak, then she saw my partner and her jaw almost hit the floor. She glanced back at the fire door, then at him again. Then she whispered to me loudly: “You fucked Daron?”

I frowned at her. “What?” I asked. “You know him?” I glanced at him. He seemed to be trying to melt into the shadows behind me.

Anna giggled drunkenly. “You’re unbelievable,” she said, “you’re the most naive groupie ever.”

He spoke suddenly, his voice a deep Californian drawl. “She’s not a groupie.” His tone was cold as ice, his eyes flashed fire in the darkness.

“Right. You rock-stars are all the same,” she snapped back, glaring at him, “you wouldn’t know a meaningful screw if it bit you on the ass.”

I stared at her, then at him. Was he a bone fide rock star? I wondered, now in awe of him. If so, where were all his tattoos and piercings? His hand tightened on mine and without another word, he pulled me away from Anna and back into the club. I thought I heard her shout abuse after him as we plunged back into the music and moshing.

I ran to keep up with him. His fingers were crushing mine, his jaw tense and pulsing. We were outside again in the balmy night air. He flagged down a taxi, held open the door for me. For a moment our eyes met. Slowly he smiled, his eyes softening to melted chocolate. I got in the taxi. He got in beside me, gave the driver an address in the hills and then took me in his arms. I slept there all the way to his house.

That was the time I fucked a rock star without a single word passing between us.

THE END