Got Riff

"You're beautiful, Gelsenkirchen", James shouts and the crowd in front of the stage cheers.

I have to laugh out loud, for this city is a lot of things but beautiful it's not. Which is one of the reasons I left as soon as I'd finished school and never looked back.

Until tonight. Until I got the chance to not only see Metallica live, but to actually get on stage with them. Me and 99 other fanclub members that is. We're standing at the back of the stage and that means that the guys have turned their backs to us most of the time. But James, Kirk and Rob make a point of including us into the show and every now and then one of them will come over, shake hands or even pose for a quick cellphone-snapshot.

They are in brilliant form tonight and even though the stadium isn't sold out, I think this is one of the best shows they've ever played.

Clearly, James thinks so, too. They're playing Master of Puppets and he's come over again, his eyes ablaze with energy and pure, fierce joy. Our eyes meet, but I'm not sure he actually sees me, he's that high on adrenaline. I've got to admit his look makes my stomach tighten. I can't help it, he's just oozing sex appeal. No man more than fifteen years my senior should have that effect on me.

Then he's gone again and I shake my head and chuckle at myself.

The band plays for more than two hours and when the lights come back on, I get the feeling, they are as reluctant to leave as the fans are.

Two of the roadies usher us off the stage and into a large room with a bar and buffet. Even if the show had been crap, the catering alone would have been worth the extra money the "Onstage"-ticket had cost.

It's almost midnight when Metallica enter the room for the promised meet and greet. Lars immediately mingles with the crowd and I can hear his excited chatter wavering over the heads. Rob resolutely pushes his way to the buffet and Kirk longingly stares at the food, too, but is too polite to just ignore the fans wanting to talk to him.

James is the last to appear and he only takes one step into the room, seemingly scanning the people. He's now wearing a plain white long-sleeve and of course one of his skin tight black jeans. I wonder if he's got a huge pile stacked away somewhere to last him through the next bootcut-revival.

I can see him bending down to whisper something to Lars, who looks up with a grin and a shrug. Again James looks around and our eyes meet. I feel my heart pounding in my throat as he starts walking towards me.

He asks my name and I tell him. He shakes my hand. "Hi. I'm James", he says. Of course he knows I know his name, but I appreciate the gesture.

We talk about the show and I ask him if they were disappointed by they comparatively small crowd. After all, 30.000 is hardly what they must be used to by now. James grins and shakes his head. "Nah, it doesn't matter if it's eighteen people or 80.000 as long as the mood is right. And the crowd was fun, don't you think?"

We discuss the short but already quite volatile history of this new festival. It's interesting how our respective backgrounds and perspectives add up to a bigger picture of what was going on before "Rock im Revier" actually became reality tonight. The whole time I'm aware of the way his eyes keep travelling to my mouth or my neck and occasionally lower. I can feel a blush creeping up my face. First I think I'm imagining things, but after a while it becomes apparent that James' mind is wandering from polite chitchat with a fan to something else entirely. I interrupt myself mid-sentence and just watch as he again seems to be lost in probably dirty thoughts. It takes a few seconds for him to notice my silence. His eyes snap up and he actually blushes slightly, like a schoolboy being caught wool-gathering.

I cock my head and give him a little knowing smile. James returns my smile.

His fingertips brush over the back of my hand and I feel myself nod in answer to his unspoken question. I've never pictured myself as a groupie but it seems my mind has no say in this decision, my body has already taken over.

James places his hand on the small of my back and manoeuvers us through the crowd. I'm glad we're already close to the door, but nevertheless I can feel heads turn and eyes pierce into my back. Lars arches an eyebrow and grins as we push past him. I would have preferred a more discreet exit, but I guess this is as discreet as it gets when dealing with one of the closed fist.

As we walk along the corridor, I can feel James' fingers hot through the thin fabric of my T-shirt.

He opens a door and we step into a green room. There's a couch, a coffee-table, a large TV and two massage tables and I can't suppress a grin. It's easy to imagine who has to wait their turn for massages.

James seems to read my thoughts. He smirks. "We actually draw straws, you know", he says and it's hard to tell if he's joking or not.

He closes and locks the door behind us and runs his right hand through his hair.

We stand facing each other for an endless moment. He lifts his hand as if to touch me and stops short a breath away of my cheek. I can't believe he really turns shy on me now.

Swiftly, I make a decision. I'm usually not that straight forward with a guy, but I figure if I don't take on the initiative, we'll be dancing around each other the whole night. And I know this one night is all we've got.

I take a small step forward, invading his personal space. I reach out my hand and knot my fingers into his shirt.

It's all the invitation he needs and his lips crash onto mine, his tongue instantly demanding access to my mouth. I moan softly and yield. James tastes of ice-tea and peppermint. His tongue brushes over mine and I feel my toes curl, while my fingers dig deeper into his long-sleeve.

As we come up for breath, James rubs his thumb over my already swollen lower lip. "I've been wanting to do that since I saw you on stage", he murmurs and kisses me again, gentler this time but no less hungrily.

His hands are on my waist now, crawling up underneath my T-Shirt. He's got big hands with long, strong fingers. It almost feels as if he could reach around my waist, but of course that's me imagining things again. Slender I might be, anorexic I'm not. He pushes my shirt up and over my head, then ghosts his finger over the swell of my breasts. James bows his head and I can feel his warm breath on my cool skin. I shiver, feeling goose bumps erupting all over my body. Then his lips caress my skin, surprisingly soft and incredible erotic.

"Jesus", I sigh.

"James", he corrects mildly, but with a smile so smug it makes me laugh.

He brushes the straps of my bra from off my shoulders and reaches round to unclasp it. The lacy garment drops to the floor. James follows my ribcage from my back to the front of my body, where he delicately strokes the outline of my breasts. His callused fingertips feel rough against my sensitive skin.

I start pulling his long-sleeve up, but James gets hold of my wrists.

"Hold that thought", he murmurs.

Opening a door I haven't noticed before, he disappears into an adjoining dressing room, where I can hear him rummaging through bags and drawers.

"Ha! I knew he'd have some."

James comes back to me, dropping a pack of condoms onto the coffee table.

"Now", he says, cupping my face with both hands, "where were we?"

I'm almost as tall as he is, so he only has to slightly incline his head to devour my mouth again.

As much as I enjoy being thoroughly kissed by James, after a few moments I press my palms against his chest, pushing him back.

"You were about to get out of that", I remind him, pulling at his shirt.

"Right", James murmurs and obediently pulls his long-sleeve over his head, revealing his toned chest. Instantly I want to rake my nails through the light fur covering his tattoos, and as I do, I scratch a small pink nipple with the nail of my ring finger, harder than I intended. His breath catches for a moment. And the nipple instantly hardens into a little nub.

So he likes it a little rough? I file that away for later use.

He pops the button of my jeans and I suddenly remember that I went with comfortable rather than sexy when putting on my undies this morning. James doesn't seem to mind. He slips his hand inside my cotton panties and I gasp, glad that at least I've trimmed everything neatly just this morning. He strokes softly over my clit a few times before pushing his hand lower. I clutch at his shoulder for support as my knees turn weak. My jeans are so tight that he can barely move his hand and the pressure against my skin is already driving my senses into overdrive.

When he's reached his goal, James raises an amused eyebrow at the wetness he finds.

I grin and press my palm against the bulge in his jeans, delighted to hear his sharp intake of breath. "Seems we're both easy", I comment, applying a bit more pressure.

He lets out a low growl but at the same time I can see the corner of his mouth twitch with a smile. "Cheeky, aren't you?" he says and slips a blunt finger inside of me, which effectively shuts me up.

All I can think of is how incredible good that feels and that I want more of it. And while my left hand is still clutching James' shoulder, I can feel him grow even harder underneath my right hand. I rub him through the stiff denim and am rewarded with a low groan.

Again he catches my mouth for a deep kiss and at the same time pulls his hand out, but only to push my jeans and my underwear down my legs as far as he can. I try to wriggle out of them without breaking the kiss, which proofs to be impossible. We both laugh as I nearly land on my ass.

His jeans are so tight he has to sit on the couch to struggle out of them along with his briefs. I drop to my knees between his long legs and take the opportunity to let my eyes rake over his body. He's lean and fit and even though his goatee contains more white than blonde these days, there are a lot of younger men in much worse shape.

I let my eyes travel lower. His cock is very straight and dusky red against his otherwise pale skin. I swallow against my dry throat. James is a tall guy and his cock doesn't disappoint in size either.

I can see the muscles of his abdomen twitch underneath his skin. The Mighty Hetfield trembling for my touch - I must say I like that.

His hands are resting on my shoulders. I hold his gaze as I lick my lips and lean forward.

"God, yes," he hisses as I close my lips around him.

He doesn't push up but lets me take control of it, watching me through hooded eyes. Slowly I let my lips glide down his shaft. I can smell soap and what I take for fabric softener and for a moment I wish he hadn't showered. But then I inwardly shrug. I guess we'll have worked up new sweat soon enough. When I've sucked in all I can take I wrap my hand around the base of his cock, forming a tight ring with my fingers. I can feel the blood pulsing through the vein underneath the silky skin. James' breathing's become heavier. He slowly pulls the tie from my ponytail and my dark hair snakes around his arm like yet another tattoo. I let my tongue twirl around the head of his cock and he involuntarily arches up a bit, letting out a low moan.

Okay, he likes that.

On my way down I add just a hint of teeth. I can feel the shudder than runs through his body.

"You keep that up and this'll be over in a few minutes", he warns.

I hollow my cheeks on the way up, before reluctantly releasing him with an obscene plopping sound. "Now, we can't have that", I say. I fumble for the condoms and fish one from the pack. I've never been very skilled in handling those so I just push the foil package into James' hand and let him deal with it.

But James seems to have difficulties, too. "Fuck", he curses under his breath as he tries to roll the rubber down over his shaft, "I forgot he buys them smaller."

I can't hide my grin, but James is too occupied to notice. Finally he succeeds and looks at me again, a feral gleam in his eyes.

Before he can move, though, I press my palm against his sternum, keeping him in place on the couch. I straddle his hips, but for the moment I keep our bodies separated, so that we can feel each others heat, but don't touch. Not yet.

James places his hands on my hips. He could easily pull me down onto him, but he humours me. I seek out his mouth for a heated kiss. His hands glide from my hips over my back to my shoulders and as our tongues seem to melt into each other I lower myself slowly onto his cock. Slowly, ever so slowly I can feel him enter me until finally James is filling me completely. I sigh into the kiss. James wraps his arms around me, one hand cradling my head, the other pressing against the small of my back, pulling my closer still.

I can feel my head spinning. Maybe it's the lack of oxygen from our kiss, maybe it's the thought "this really is happening" that keeps echoing in my head.

Suddenly I can feel a change in James' movements. Both his arms move lower and he gets a tight hold on me, pushing up from the couch until he's upright, with me clinging to him like a spider monkey.

For a moment I fear for his back, but he only carries me for two or three steps before lowering me onto one of the massage tables.

"You're okay?" he asks.

I nod. "More than okay", I grin and wrap my legs around him again.

James snaps his hips forward and from this angle he gets in even deeper than before. We both groan as he hits a sensitive spot deep inside me.

Somebody bangs against the door. "We're leaving in fifteen. With or without you!" Lars shouts. When he doesn't get a reply he kicks at the door. "You heard me, Het?"

James stops moving and rolls his eyes. "Fuck off!" he yells.

I can hear Lars cackle and his footsteps retreat.

James runs his hands over my body and I arch into his touch without thinking.

"God, you're gorgeous."

He bends over me and lightly bites the skin over my collarbone, his fingers stroking down both my arms until he can interlace them with my own. I clench my inner muscles, trying to get him to move again.

He grins and squeezes my hands but remains stubbornly unmoving below waistline.

"I'm enjoying this way too fucking much to already let you go", he says as if talking to himself.

Looking up from our joined hands, he asks: "We're leaving for Munich around noon, but... maybe you can spend the night?"

I realize he's noticed the ring on my left hand and, not knowing wedding-bands are traditionally worn on the right hand in Germany, has come to a wrong conclusion.

Although all I care about right now is to get him moving again, I can't stop myself from teasing him.

"You think that's a fair question while you're balls deep inside me?"

James laughs softly and I shiver as the vibration of the sound travels through both our bodies.

He pulls back until the head of his cock barely touches my entrance and I already think I've reached my goal, when he stops.

"Better?" he asks with an evil smirk.

"Goddammit, James Hetfield!" I curse.

He raises his eyebrows. "What do you want?" his voice is pure sin and I cringe under the intensity of his gaze.

"Are you going to make me beg for it?" I gasp out and I can read on his face that's exactly what he's going to do.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he pushes in again and I've got to admit I mewl in frustration.

My fingernails dig into his forearms, but he remains unfazed and even slows down further.

I give in. "Please, James!"

He bends down for a surprisingly gentle kiss, followed by a soft bite into my bottom lip.

"Please what?" he whispers against my mouth.

I would stomp my foot if it wasn't for the strange angle I'm lying in. I settle for digging my heel into the backside of his thigh instead.

"Please fuck me, James. Make me come. I want you. I want to feel your cock inside of me. Deep. Hard. Please!"

I can see the effect my words have on him as his pupils dilate until his ice blue eyes seem almost black. He swallows hard.

"Fuck", he breaths, "you beg pretty."

He unwraps my legs from around his hips and places my feet on his shoulders instead. Gripping my hips like a jaw-trap he pushes all the way in with an almost brutal stab, and I have to bite my own wrist to keep myself from crying out loud.

He pushes into me with such force that my body slips up the massage table.

"Oh no, you don't", he growls, gets an even stronger hold on my hipbones and pulls me down again, crushing our bodies together.

Even though his fingernails are clipped short, I can feel the skin break in two or three spots.

I don't know if it's the sharp, unexpected pain or the thought that with my pale, sensitive skin, I'll be carrying his marks for weeks. Probably it's a combination of all that that pushes me over the edge and I come hard, wildly bucking up against James.

I vaguely register his deep groan, as James too climaxes, before collapsing over me, covering me with his body, my feet slipping off his sweaty shoulders. I instinctly wrap my arms around him, waiting for my vision to clear again. There are still black spots dancing in front of my eyes.

We lie like that for a few shuddering breaths, then he presses a kiss to the side of my neck and pulls himself up.

I sigh softly as he pulls out, already regretting the loss of him.

"So", he says, as he helps me sit up, "you still haven't answered my question."

With his index finger he circles my left nipple, which instantly hardens again. "I love how responsive you are", he says, "and there are some things I'd still like to try..."

"Like what?" I try to make it sound like a challenge. My body obviously shouts my eagerness loudly enough, but I don't want him to think I'll drop into his bed like windfall.

After all, he likes to hunt.

The gleam in his eyes tells me he's accepted my bait, enjoying my verbal teasing.

Wrapping my hair around his wrist, James pulls my head slightly back, exposing my neck. He brushes his lips over my skin, letting his canine scrape over my throat, then soothing the skin with the soft tip of his tongue.

"Well for one thing", he then says as if putting together a shopping list, "I haven't tasted you yet, and I very much want to."

He grins at the little needy sound that escapes my lips.

Challenge accepted.

Leaning in, he whispers into my ear. "I want to make you scream."

Bastard. He knows exactly how sexy his voice is. Yeah, I guess, being a singer he should know, too.

I get off the abused massage table and steal another kiss, letting my hand travel down his back to his ass and squeeze. "How could I say no to that?"