All Access

I awoke to the sound of the landing gear lowering. The plane was descending smoothly, and bright sun was streaming through the windows. I was tucked into Dan's shoulder, cozy under our blanket, our arms and legs intertwined, our t-shirts still on the floor. We had taken off and flown, and were now landing in College Park.

: : : : :

We took limos to the hotel. I'm sure I could have settled right into Dan's room, but I wanted to get a room of my own -- call it a safety net in case in case things went off track. Dan had said there were several rooms set aside for friends and family, but by the looks of it, they were mostly all taken by Chad's groupies. Dan introduced me to Scotty, who gave me a room key.

I don't know how the rooms were assigned, it could have been random, but maybe they clustered me in with Chad's groupies and assigned our rooms alphabetically by first name, because I ended up in a room with Buffy, who turned out to be one of the blondes who had blown Dan, and Bambi, the redhead who had eaten me. I wondered if ALL Chad's girls had names you'd find on the marquee of a strip club.

When I got to the room, Bambi had a deck of cards out. "Great," she said when I entered, "we can start now. The game is 'high / middle / low,' and this round is for oral sex. High card receives, middle card licks pussy, low card tongues ass." She fanned the deck, and said, "Pick a card..."

"I'll be back in a minute," I said. Neither of them seemed to notice that I took my travel duffle with me and left my key on the table. I found Dan's room on the next floor up, and knocked. His face lit up when he saw me. It lit up more when I asked if I could bunk with him.

"There's only one bed, a king-size," he warned, holding out a room key.

I took it. "Works for me, Dan, works for me."

: : : : :

The plan was to limo to the arena in barely half an hour -- enough time to unpack for the weekend, not long enough for any sort of major encore performance. But maybe enough time to show Dan a little gratitude, both for the trip, and for rescuing me from Buffy and Bambi's lair of sleaze. He had gotten out of his regular jeans, had a pair of red ones set out for the show, and was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting his Dan wig.

I got on my knees in front of him, and pulled the front of his boxers down. His cock and balls bounced out. He said, "B, you don't have to do that, I told you, this is a 'no strings' weekend."

I answered him by taking the tip of his cock into my mouth, and swirling my tongue over it. "But I want to," I mumbled around it. He grinned, and didn't argue any more.

Dan didn't have the biggest cock I had ever seen, but it was far from the smallest. Actually, it was quite nice. And it seemed to like what I was doing -- before very long, I had a raging hard-on between my lips, and I intended to make the most of it. "Bheelf bree bhou rhumm bhen rhoorh bhreddy," I slurred over his dick.

"What?" he moaned.

I paused. "Feel free to cum when you're ready," I said, and immediately resumed. I could feel him grow a bit larger when he realized what I had said.

I coated his dick in saliva all the way back to my tonsils, and then began to swirl my fist around the base while I concentrated on sucking the tip. Now, I'm sure Dan has had his share of cock-sucking aficionados who have far more advanced technique than I do, but I must have been doing something right, because it didn't take very long at all before I felt a trembling at the base of his shaft, and he exploded into my mouth.

Several different guys have told me that when he is cumming, it's the most sensitive he ever gets. It's another one of my favorite moments. I mean, assuming you're not being forced, when you're giving someone else an orgasm with your mouth, there's such power in it, yet it's such a pure, simple moment. There's no BS between the two of you. There are body parts, there's brain, there's physical sensation, there's mental sensation, and all of those are wrapped up in an explosive force field of psychic, sexual energy. I mean, have you ever heard anyone say, "That was a shitty orgasm, I hated it"? Me either...

He pulled me to my feet and kissed me deeply; again, I was impressed. Most guys want to avoid the possibility of tasting their own cum, however briefly. I guess they've never thought it through -- if she's willing to receive his jizz into her mouth, he should at least not treat her mouth with disgust. That's a good way to discourage her from ever doing it again.

I had lost track of the time, and assumed we needed to rush down to the limo, so I was pleasantly surprised when Dan pushed me back onto the bed, unbuckled my belt, and pulled my jeans and panties off in one smooth motion. He pushed my knees up, pulled my outer and inner lips gently apart with his thumbs, and buried his face in my pussy. I was already sopping wet, which I assume he found to his liking, as he mumbled something which I think was, "Yum!"

Dan really knew his way around the female anatomy, and, no surprise by now, he knew how to pay attention and read my response to his stimulation. He started out slow and luxuriant, letting me know that we had as much time as we needed. At the same time, he didn't waste any motion on anything that didn't move me nearer to a massive orgasm. He raised me up, level after level after level, building in intensity. I'm not exactly sure what he did with his lips and tongue, but it clearly involved suction, and every time I thought he had shown me everything that could be felt down there, and I would get ready to ride him over the top, he would show me another wrinkle, driving me to a higher level.

Did I mention before that, for me, the longer an orgasm builds, the greater its power? Well, he took me to incredible heights, and when the wave finally washed over me, I completely lost track of all physical reality. Time and place ceased being, my mind and body just floated abstractly, slowly down through all the levels of delight and bliss he had taken me through.

When I finally re-emerged in the here and now, Dan was still locked onto my slit, slowly caressing it with the softness of his tongue. I pulled him up alongside me, and kissed him intensely -- I'm not about to treat his mouth with revulsion, either. Tasting myself on a guy's lips was a bit of a cringe the first few times, it was definitely an acquired taste, but I've learned to like it, and I certainly wanted him feeling comfortable enough to want to do it again.

: : : : :

We were the last ones to get to the lobby. As Dan and I got into one of the band limos, I saw Buffy and Bambi glaring at me as they stepped onto the crew bus. My inner twelve-year-old had an urge to stick my tongue out at them, maybe sing "Neener neener neener," but I stifled it.

When we arrived at the arena, it triggered some of my favorite memories. My friend Julia and I used to work here during school basketball games -- we interfaced between the city-run concession stands and the University. Basically that meant power-walking around the perimeter during every game, starting a half hour before the doors opened to the public, ending an hour after the game ended. We collected paper cash register receipts, noted which locations were running low on provisions, called for backup on walkie-talkies, and solved any other "emergencies." Not rocket science, but it kept the concessions running, the fans fed and watered, and we ensured that the University got its proper cut of the proceeds.

I followed Dan to his dressing room, and he explained that the next few hours would be busier than normal for him, as the band was debuting a revised set list tonight. So, in addition to familiarizing themselves with the stage, and doing the usual sound check, where they would play several songs so the audio crew could optimize the sound system for the venue, they were going to do a full run-through of the new songs. He said I could chill in his dressing room, hang out in the wings of the stage, or, as long as I had my All Access pass (I did), anywhere in the arena. "I'll warn you, though, at this time of day, if you step out of the building, sometimes it's difficult to get back in, even with an All Access badge."

It was time for him to be on-stage, so we set out in that direction. We were about to go up a half-flight of wide metal stairs to the stage level when I heard a shriek, followed by what sounded like someone, mortally wounded, on the final leg of a kamikaze run. I turned towards the mayhem, and was tackled by a blur of black capri pants, aqua and gold silk top, and blonde hair. "Beeeeeeee" the apparently female Tasmanian devil shrieked.

Just as quickly as she had appeared, my attacker levitated up into the air. Suspended from her waist by the Popeye-sized forearm of a band bouncer, I finally got a clear look: it was my old friend Julia. It took me a few seconds to get my pulse stabilized, and my brain, voice, and jaw working well enough to speak, but I was finally able to convince the bouncer that it was OK, I knew this person, and she was no danger to me, Dan, or anyone else.

"B, is it really you?" she said.

I saw that the bouncer was still looking sideways at us. "Dammit, Jules, you always did make quite an entrance."

"B, I can't believe this, what are you doing here?"

"Um, 'I'm with the band.'" (I know, it's corny, but how often do you get to say that? I had to take the opportunity.) "I ran into Dan here a couple of nights ago, and since their next show was here, well, here I am."

I gestured at both Dan and Julia. "Dan, this is Julia, who despite her dramatic entrance, is one of my favorite people. Julia, meet Dan, who is well on his way to earning his 'truly great guy' badge."

They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Then the same roadie from Thursday night appeared, with more urgent questions. Dan said to Julia and me, "Sound check is in about thirty minutes. Feel free to hang out here, but if you want to catch up somewhere a little quieter, I wouldn't blame you. You really should get back for sound check, you can hear some of the new songs that'll be on our next disk."

Getting away sounded like a great idea, the stage was a hive of activities, most of them LOUD.

Julia and I exited the stage, walked out front into the arena, up the stairs that the ticket-buying public would use to access the floor seats, and into the perimeter foyer.

"Wow, B," she said, "Dan seems like a prince."

"It's not that big a deal, I just ran into him at the show back home, and he was impressed that I wasn't obsessed with meeting the singer. When he found out I used to see them in the bars here, he invited me for the weekend. That's all there is to it."

She gave me a pitying look, and said, "I don't think so. It looks to me like Mr. Dan is quite taken with you. He's got a glow, you're just not seeing it."

"Jules, don't be silly. If he has a glow, it's because I fucked him on the plane-"

She gave a whoop and held up her hand for a high five, saying, "Mile-high club!"

"- and I blew him in the hotel room right before we came over to the arena."

"You always were smart -- the way to a man's heart is NOT through his stomach. But just wait, I predict," she said knowingly, "this is more than a one-weekend stand for him..."

"So," I said, hoping to move along to another subject, "Dan's why I'm here, what are you doing here? Surely you're not still interfacing the concessions..."

"Not exactly," she replied, "I'm Facilities Manager."

It took me a moment to get it. Then it was MY turn to whoop, saying, "You run the place! Congratulations!" I gave HER a high five.

Before I could get more details on her position, Dan appeared. "There you are. We're gonna start sound check early, c'mon in and listen to the new songs, I'd like to know what you think of them."

Julia raised her eyebrows, gave me an "I told you so" look, and we all started back to the stairs. We were about to head back down to the arena floor, when Julia slowed and said, "I'll catch up with you in a minute, I see something I need to check on." I stopped, to see if we could wait for her.

She crossed to the other side of the foyer, where the door to a maintenance closet was ajar. She pulled it open, and there, among the mops and brooms, were three pairs of bulging eyeballs, startled, unblinking, all staring at us. Talk about deer-in-the-headlights... It was Buffy and Bambi, and another rough looking guy in a band t-shirt. The girls were on their knees at the band guy's feet. They were naked from the waist up, their shirts draped over mop buckets. The guy had his pants down around his ankles. His smallish, hard dick glistened with freshly-applied saliva. He was slightly bent over, pawing a Buffy breast in one hand, and mauling a Bambi breast in the other.

Dan had stopped when we did, and huffed in exasperation. "Cadaver, dammit, get out of there and get back to work." The guy sheepishly pulled up his pants, said, "We'll finish later, right?" to the girls, and shuffled off toward back-stage.

The girls were frozen, still too surprised to cover their tits, but one of them finally pulled the door shut. They emerged a few seconds later, shirts back on, and scurried after "Cadaver." One of them giggled, and said, "Oops, you've got my top on, and I got yours." Julia shut and locked the door, and we headed back into the arena.

"Sorry," Dan said.

I asked him, "That guy's name is 'Cadaver'?" He shrugged in the universal "beats me" gesture.

Julia chuckled, saying, "And those girls, I mean, who blows a roadie?"

I laughed. Dan winced and said, "I'm not sure you'd even call him a 'roadie.' I don't know what he is, he hasn't been useful enough to earn a real title. I guess he's officially the truck driver's assistant -- we pay him $85 a day, which with the hours he works, probably isn't even minimum wage. He also gets $20 a day for meals, and he shares a room with the driver in the cheapest hotel we can find."

: : : : :

Sound check was interesting, alternating between periods of tedious technical adjustment, and some surprisingly high-energy performing. Based on what I heard, their next CD could be their best yet, the new songs were that good. Julia gave me that look again when Dan asked me whether I liked them.

After their run-through, band, crew, and hangers-on assembled back-stage for dinner. Although the catered buffet looked really good, Julia suggested that she and I go to the Varsity Diner, a nearby eatery which, back in the day, was outstanding. She assured me it still was.

I asked Dan if he'd like to come, and Julia gave me "the look" again. He said, "I'd love to. Um, Cal, our sound guy, he's been with us since we were based here. He used to love the Varsity. Can he come too?" Julia paused, and Dan added, "Nobody else, but Cal would really love it." Julia seemed less than thrilled, but agreed.

Dan went and fetched Cal, and introduced him to Julia and me. It turned out, Cal and Julia remembered each other from the Varsity -- they both used to eat at the counter, and had sat next to each other several times and chatted. Julia's body language said that they were good memories for her.

We turned down the corridor to leave, and Dan said, "Give me just a second," ducking into his dressing room. When he reappeared, he had left his Dan wig behind. He and Cal and I set out towards the exit, but Julia said, "Wait, shouldn't we wait for Dan?"

Dan chuckled, and I said, "Julia, meet Dan. Dan, Julia." Dan held out his hand as if to shake hers, again. Julia did a double-take, and said, "Oh." Then we all set out towards the door.

Walking outside, Julia asked, "What do you do, Cal?"

He replied, "I'm FOH."

Julia and I asked in unison, "What is 'FOH?'"

Cal looked embarrassed, and said, "Sorry, I try to avoid using tech lingo, but sometimes it slips out. FOH stands for 'front of house' -- out in the audience, in other words."

He paused, lost for words, and Dan continued, "When we play, there are two main guys running the sound equipment. Randy runs Monitors, he controls what WE hear on-stage. And Cal here is FOH, he controls what the audience hears."

Julia wondered, "Why wouldn't that be the same?"

Cal answered, "In the audience, you need to hear everything they're playing, sounding as much like the CD as possible. Even the biggest guitar amp on stage isn't loud enough to fill up the hall with sound, so I put microphones out for every instrument, and I control how much volume each of them has, so that everything is at the right level.

"On stage, it's a very different environment. It's very important that the band guys hear each other clearly, but the amplifiers are loud, and the drums are loud, while their singing voices, and any acoustic instruments, are quiet. The boxes you see on the floor all over the stage, those are monitor speakers, which are just for the band. Randy does for the monitor speakers exactly what I do for out front -- he turns everything up or down so that the band hears exactly what they need. So, he controls what the band hears, and I control what the audience hears."

The Varsity was every bit as wonderful as it used to be. I got Julia to finish explaining her rise to Facilities Manager, and we told Dan and Cal some war stories from the old days. Dan told Cal about finding Cadaver in the custodian's closet, and Cal rolled his eyes.

From that point on, Dan and I tried to be polite in our conversation and include Julia and Cal, but several times, before we realized it, we had sort of shut them out and were just talking between the two of us. I couldn't help noticing that the two of them seemed to have no difficulty maintaining a conversation of their own. And the later the meal got, the more likely it became that they would be the ones who tuned us out. Interesting...

On the walk back to the arena, Dan and I walked together, holding hands, deep in private conversation. Several steps behind us, Julia and Cal did exactly the same.

: : : : :

The moments leading up to the show consisted of more flashbacks to college days. Even though this was a concert rather than a game, and even though it had been years since I had been here, the arena felt exactly the same as it came to life. Its pulse hadn't changed at all.

There was much for Julia to oversee leading up to opening the doors to the public. There were concession stands to get provisioned, restrooms to be sure were fully functional and fitted with sufficient paper products, and with a hall full of potential Cadavers, Bambis, and Buffys in mind, lots of closets and 'staff only' doors to make sure were securely locked.

Julia of course didn't have as many specific duties and she and I did back in the day, but she had to interface with a dozen or so people who did. She introduced them as they checked in with her, most of them earnest, energetic college students. One of them stood out, a swimsuit-model-caliber brunette named Ronni. She and I seemed like we could really hit it off, if she hadn't had to go take care of her duties.

"Ronni does pretty much what you and I used to do," Julia explained. "The technology has completely changed -- all the concession registers are networked, so there's no paper register tape to collect, and supplies are inventoried over the same network, so we usually know when a particular location is running low of anything.

"We tried to do without any runners at all a couple of years ago, and it was a disaster -- there's still all sorts of minor panics and emergencies that need a human to solve, and the inventory system doesn't do well keeping up with breakage, spoilage, and other waste, so we need humans to verify that levels are adequate. Ronni is the best of the current crop of staff, she just makes problems go away. I don't have to worry about anything that she handles."