Rap It Up

I'm struggling as to where to put this story. It's a romance/first time story with anal, toys and a very light Dom/sub element at the end. That being said, I hope you enjoy it. It was a fun one to write!

~Pentopaper

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Albany, NY

"Mr. International", Tomas De la Fuente. Also known as "Mr. 404", after his hometown Atlanta area code.

He was Latino. He was 27 years old. Fluent in both English and Spanish.

Terribly good looking. Tall and muscular and built.

Smart. Ruthless. A hustler.

He was multi-talented, as in he could sing and dance, but most importantly, he could rap.

He was the "it" guy right now; the most famous rapper on the globe. Every woman wanted to fuck him, and every man wanted to be him. He had an ego the size of his dick, which I had heard from his backup dancers - and if true - was pretty big.

My father was the soundboard engineer for "Mr. International". Dad was the best in the business, and he traveled the globe with musicians and was responsible for their high-quality concert sound.

It was debatable whether my dad was lucky to be on "Mr. International's" team, or if "Mr. International" was lucky to have my dad working his soundboard.

It was late May, I'd just turned eighteen, and had just graduated from high school. With nothing to do and no summer job lined up, my dad told me he'd bring me along on the concert trail as an intern of sorts. Sort of like an apprentice. Dad was sure I'd want to follow in his footsteps someday, and do something behind the scenes in music like he did. Confidentially, I was more interested in lighting than in the soundboard, but I'd never tell Dad that. At least not yet.

It was fascinating, following "Mr. 404" around. I grew up quasi-Christian, though not very devout.

But Tomas?

He was absolutely and unabashedly amoral.

He literally fucked a different girl every night. His tour was just getting started and he'd already run through all of his back-up dancers, some of them more than twice, and now he consistently fucked good-looking female fans. Sometimes he even had threesomes. Foursomes, even. One time he and his entire entourage, five of his closest friends who traveled with us, lined up six naked girls on their hands and knees in a hotel room and they took turns fucking all of them in a row. I don't know if you'd call that an orgy or what, but I had it on good authority that it had actually happened.

Veronica Lozano was one of Tomas's back-up dancers, and she was present for the before-mentioned "orgy", though she claimed she had not participated. She was 23 and Latino herself, and beautiful, with long auburn hair and bright hazel eyes. She was my best friend out of all the people on the tour. She was outgoing and friendly and bubbly. She was definitely a cheerleader type. She was the opposite of me. I was a white girl, introverted and somewhat serious, though I did know how to laugh and I could appreciate a good joke. But I wasn't comfortable being around other people and so I mostly kept to myself.

Somehow, beautiful Veronica and I had befriended each other. She was definitely the magical unicorn next to me, the stubby donkey. But she didn't mind my frizzy short hair and my glasses and my laugh that sounded like a dying animal. And whenever there were breaks in practicing or whenever there was off time, we hung out together.

"Stella," she said to me, "Tomas is the best lover I've ever had," she said. "I've slept with him three times now and he always makes sure that I come and that I'm satisfied."

I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. "Really? That's great...I guess," I said.

"What do you mean, 'you guess'?" She said. "I just told you he was the best I'd ever had and you poo-pooed it!"

I squirmed in my seat again. "No, I mean, I'm happy for you. I just don't have anything to add...or any experience to compare it to," I said.

"Oh, Stella! Your daddy's kept you too sheltered. You've got to live life! Find out what the world is all about! You can't just wait for it to happen. You have to make it happen!"

I blinked at her. That was easy for her to say. Her dad wasn't on tour with her. Mine was, and he kept a somewhat close eye on me.

"First off? We need to loosen you up. Get you some experience, if you know what I mean. The next party Tomas has in his hotel room? I'll make sure you're there," she said.

I cringed. I didn't know if I could handle all the drinking and the sex and the drugs and the weed. It just wasn't my scene.

"I'd feel much more comfortable in a bookstore than in a hotel room," I joked.

Veronica just laughed at me. "Next time, chica. You'll be there."

"Ella, can you get me another bottle of water?" Boomed Tomas's voice throughout the amphitheater. He was getting ready to practice on stage and was testing out his microphone.

"And when are you going to tell him that Ella is not your name?" She hissed.

I just rolled my eyes. "Does it even matter?" I said.

"Yes, Stella, it does! Have some self-respect, girl!" She said.

Tomas loved good-looking women, which was why he paid absolutely zero attention to me. Besides my frizzy hair and glasses I had a somewhat flat butt - a no-no in rap circles - and not much boobage to speak of. No, Tomas paid no attention to me at all...except when he wanted something. I think he thought I was a paid gofer, because when he wanted something he always looked for me and then asked me to get it for him.

"Ella, can you run back to the bus and get me my sunglasses?"

"Ella, can you grab that box of condoms and make sure it gets into my hotel room tonight?"

"Ella, can you bring me a clean pair of socks?"

"Ella, can you take this dirty pair of underwear and put it wherever the dirty clothes go?"

The things I had fetched for him were mostly mundane, but others bordered on the ridiculous.

I was happy enough to get away from the soundboard, though, because my dad's job, as far as I was concerned, was pretty boring.

"Hey, Stella! How's it hanging?" Asked Miguel when I went back to the bus to grab Tomas his special water that he drank. It was expensive and was bottled somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. It was the only water he'd drink, period.

I just nodded at Miguel. He was good-looking too. All of Tomas's male entourage were way too good-looking for me. But Miguel was the only one who consistently spoke to me; he was generally a good guy. "Having a good day?" He asked me.

"It's okay," I mumbled, grabbing the water from the bus's fridge.

Miguel sipped his bottle of beer and gave me a salute.

I kept my head down and blushed.

Back in the amphitheater I ran the bottle of water up to Tomas on stage. He grabbed it from me, said nothing, and proceeded to drink. He was having a conversation/argument in Spanish with one of his band mates and I had no idea what they were saying.

The concert that night in Albany was fantastic as always. Tomas was a wonderful entertainer. And when it was over, I pulled out my earplugs. "Sounded real good, Dad," I said.

He nodded. "I think we've hit the sweet spot," he said.

"I think you're right. But I think I'm going to go turn in early," I said.

"Oh, alright, baby. See you tomorrow. We're on to Brooklyn tomorrow morning. Don't oversleep," he said.

But I was a big fat liar, it turns out. I wasn't headed back to my room to sleep at all. I was meeting Veronica and we were going to party with Tomas and his friends. And also with six or so very lucky girls who now held backstage passes. Tomas always had his entourage scope out the crowd and when they'd see a hot girl they'd give her a backstage pass.

Veronica was waiting for me in my hotel room. She'd already started getting ready by using my shower. I sat on the bed and waited for her.

Several minutes later she dashed out naked and grabbed a thong and a push up bra from her suitcase. I couldn't help but stare at her dancer's body. She had a gorgeous figure, a nice, full booty, no pubic hair, and boobs that would probably fit right into each of Tomas's hands.

"Have you done your makeup yet?" Veronica asked me.

"My what?" I asked.

She poked her head out of the bathroom, now wearing her underwear, and she didn't stop applying her powder with a powder brush as she talked to me. "Honey...chica..." she said, shaking her head. "Get me my straightening iron."

Veronica spent an hour on me, straightening my hair and putting on makeup. She even put fake eyelashes on me. "And you can't wear that ratty hoodie and those dirty tennis shoes," she said. "Or those pop bottle glasses."

Veronica pulled out some ecru ballet flats that fit me fine, and a short, "little black dress" from her things. "Here. Try this dress on," she said.

I did, and it actually fit me ok. It hung a little lower on my thighs than it would have on Veronica as she was taller than me, but it didn't look too bad and plus I didn't plan on showing off my ass to anybody anytime soon, so longer was better.

Veronica made me take my glasses off and, though I couldn't see much of anything, we were ready to go.

We didn't have to wonder which room was Tomas's. It was the one on the floor with the music and the smoke spilling out of it.

We were able to squeeze into the hotel room when they recognized Veronica, and she was holding my hand, so by default, I got in too.

When I stepped inside I froze. I didn't need my glasses to see that absolute sexual mayhem was going on.

"Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!" Tomas and his buddies were shouting. Four girls I'd never seen before - absolutely naked - were jumping on the two beds, their hair and boobs bouncing and flying all around.

Miguel was sitting in a chair with a naked girl on his lap, and they were kissing deeply. He flashed me the peace sign when he saw me.

I recognized two of Tomas's backup dancers twerking to the music in just their bras and thongs.

My mouth fell open because I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

Veronica grabbed my hand and led me over to the mini-fridge. It was already empty, but there were a few big bottles of alcohol scattered around the room. Veronica grabbed one from the table and took a big drink out of it and then offered it to me.

"I'm eighteen! Are you crazy?" I said.

"I thought you were going to live a little?" Veronica said.

"Within the law!" I said.

She chuckled.

"Hey, Veronica!" Tomas said. It was evident from his eyes that he had been drinking. And smoking. A lot.

"Hey, Tomas," Veronica said, in her "fuck me now" voice.

Tomas just chuckled.

The girls on the beds must have gotten tired of jumping because now they were all engaged in various sex acts with Tomas's entourage.

I tried to avert my eyes but couldn't.

"Who's this?" Tomas asked, indicating me.

"This is Stella," Veronica said.

"Hey," he said to me, then something else caught his eye and he turned.

"Hey," I said back. I almost giggled because it was evident that he had no clue who I was and he was probably too drunk at this point to remember me anyway.

Veronica bumped her hip with mine. "He noticed you!" She mouthed.

"For like five seconds," I whispered back. I shrugged, though. I did look different in Veronica's clothes with my straightened hair and no glasses and with makeup on.

The party raged around us and somebody turned up the music. It was some Spanish rap tune - not by "Mr. 404" but by somebody else - and Tomas began to dance. He gave a couple whoops in the air and started going to town with his dance moves.

Veronica and I found a couple spots on one of the beds where active sex wasn't being had and we sat down.

One of the naked girls in the room started dancing up on Tomas. It was filthy, the dance moves they were doing on each other.

I watched Tomas kiss her and it looked like he was going to eat her face off.

Next thing I knew he pushed the girl onto the same bed barely an inch away from me and he proceeded to spread her legs. Then he kneeled on the floor between those legs and he started licking her pussy.

"Oh my God!" I squealed.

Veronica just grinned. "Yeah. Didn't I tell you? His parties are legendary," she whispered.

"Mmmmm, but I want your big cock!" The girl Tomas was eating out said.

A few seconds later I watched Tomas push his pants and boxers down, condom up the biggest dick I'd ever seen - except in porn - and then he started dicking this naked fan. He mumbled something in Spanish, and closed his eyes, off in his own sexual world.

"I think I'm ready to go," I said, bolting up to a standing position. I was sure my face was red. I seemed to be the only one here with any shame. I was embarrassed.

Even more, I was embarrassed for everybody that was here.

Veronica sighed. "Are you sure? The guys will probably start dancing naked next. It's really fun when that happens," she said.

I stood. "Nah, I think I'll go turn in," I said.

And I hightailed it out of there.

I went into my hotel room and washed off all the makeup Veronica had spent forever doing. Then I got my pajamas on and climbed into bed. I sniffed and realized the lingering smell of weed was clinging to my hair. Before I drifted off, I frowned in distaste.

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Brooklyn, NY

The next night in Brooklyn, the show went off without any problems, like always. But there was no big party afterward in Tomas' room. The dancers were off the clock after the show and so they all went out with Tomas's friends to see what kind of trouble they could scare up in the big, bad city. I stayed in my room because, well, after just one, I'd had enough of Tomas and his parties and I wasn't the "going out and having rowdy fun" type, anyway.

I was just snuggling up in my bed under the covers when there was a knock on my door.

I ignored it but it didn't stop. When I finally answered it, it was Tomas.

"Hey," he said to me. He was dressed in a white wife beater shirt and blue pajama pants. He had his head in his hands.

"Hey. You need something?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he said, looking me up and down with a frown. "Ella. I guess you'll do," he said with a sigh.

And with that, he walked up to me and kissed me.

I froze and he slowly pulled away.

"What's wrong? I know we don't know each other all that well, but that's okay. Wanna fuck? I need to cum, and there's nobody in my room tonight."

"I thought you were out on the town with everybody else?" I said with a squeak, still surprised to see him here.

He shook his head. "I had a bad headache earlier. My meds I take for it make me a little loopy and chatty so I'm sorry if I'm acting weird. But now my headache is mostly gone. So, what do you say?" He said. "I still need to cum."

"Um...okay...well," I said thinking that this was way beyond the scope of the job description of a gofer. But he must have taken my "okay" as a yes, because he brushed past me, walked into my hotel room, and proceeded to strip off all of his clothes.

I just stood there, looking at him. He was magnificent. Gorgeous. A perfect man, with a perfect ass, complete with those dimples that sat right on either side of his lower spine. Think of the statue of David - he was like that except he wasn't stone and he had a much bigger cock.

He turned around and caught me staring. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get on the bed," he said, "and we'll get busy."

I don't know why, but I walked towards him. It was curiosity, or maybe just insanity, but I stopped when I was right next to him. He pulled me down onto the bed with him, kissed me again, and pulled my pajama top off of my head. I immediately covered my small, naked breasts.

"He sighed. Ella. Baby. I'm too tired tonight for games or even for foreplay. Maybe we can do that later. Is that okay?" He asked.

"Um...I..." I said, and, ignoring me totally, he pushed me onto my back and he tugged my pajama shorts and panties off. I tried to hide my breasts and my sex from him, but he gently knocked my hands out of the way.

"Shit. I didn't bring a condom. Fuck. Well, I always wear one, so it should be okay." He spread my legs and before I knew it, he was running his big cock through my slit. "We'll do this some other time and I'll spend more time with you. I just need a quickie right now in the worst way," he said.

And he pushed forward.

I tensed all over my body, and his cock went nowhere.

"Huh," he said, checking to make sure his dick was in the right spot. Satisfied, he pushed again, and his cock again went nowhere. Finally he grabbed my shoulder with one hand, thrusted hard, and then he was finally just barely in.

I groaned out in pain, but he was too confused to notice right away. "Why the fuck are you so tight?" He asked, now pushing himself all the way in. "Jesus. You're tight as fuck," he said, bewildered. He thrusted into me a few more times, and then he finally looked down at me. He suddenly noticed that I had my hand over my mouth and I was quietly quasi-crying.

He stopped moving immediately. "What the fuck is the matter with you?" He asked me. "Am I hurting you or something?" He asked. He grumbled as he pulled out of me and then looked down at his cock and he froze. "Oh, fuck. I forgot to ask. Are you on your period or something? There's some blood here."

I just shook my head no.

"Then why are you bleeding..." and then it dawned on him through the haze of his headache medicine. His eyes flashed up to mine in horror.

"Jesus Christ! You're a virgin?!" He whispered.

I sniffled and nodded once.

He leapt off the bed and started pacing. "Oh my God. Oh my God," he said, over and over. "You're a fucking virgin?!" He said, his voice reaching highs more reserved for sopranos than for tough rappers.

I sat up on my elbows watching him. He spouted off a bunch of words in Spanish and then looked at me. "Why the fuck didn't you say something? I mean, I've never fucked a virgin before...so it's not like I have any experience with that, but a fucking virgin?!" He asked me again.

He ducked into the bathroom and I heard him ripping out Kleenexes. He must have been wiping himself off. He came back out into my hotel room and grabbed his clothes. He tugged them on as fast as he could. "I...I'll see you around," he mumbled, and he left.

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"He what?!" Veronica said the next day. We were all eating breakfast at a Dennys and she and I were sitting alone at a table, talking. And...and I was still a little sore.

"Yeah. The whole experience. It was...pretty horrible. And now this morning he keeps looking at me," I said. I glanced up at him and sure enough, Tomas was looking. He cleared his throat and immediately looked away, rejoining the conversation with his boys at his table.

Veronica leaned back in her chair. "All that confidence. All that machismo. All that manliness. It all went down the drain last night because he'd never screwed a virgin before?" She asked.

I shrugged. "I guess."

"I think you did the impossible, Stella," Veronica said, in awe. "I think you broke him," she told me.

I couldn't help but grin a little at that.

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Brooklyn, NY, Second Concert

That night after the second concert in Brooklyn, the party was going full force in Tomas's room. It wasn't the best concert he'd ever done, honestly. The stage had a long strip that came out onto the floor and when Tomas was on it he was pretty close to the soundboard where I was. For some reason, he was rapping, and he forgot some words to his most famous song, "Booty Call". He'd written it all by himself when he was still a nobody in his hometown of Atlanta, so he should have known the words frontwards and backwards. I couldn't be sure but he might have shot me a bewildered look when it happened. It's hard to know exactly where he was looking during a concert.