The Adventures of Boipussy Pt. 03

The crowd roared its approval. "Take 'em off! Take 'em off! Take 'em off!"

Ace pretended bashfulness. "Well, OK ... I mean, if you insist ..."

He pulled his boxers off and threw them into the crowd. His sweaty cotton landed with a splat on some alpha guy's face.

The bass player re-entered the chat. He sidled up to his mike stand. "Usually, it's the other way around."

"Huh?" said Ace.

"Usually, it's the audience throwing their underpants on stage."

Ace laughed. "That's true."

"Have you ever thrown your own undies on stage, Ace?" inquired the bass player.

"Yeah, once, at a Motley Crue gig," Ace disclosed. "I was aiming for Tommy Lee. Have you seen his dick? I'd let him be my buttplug any day of the fuckin' week." He touched his dick in front of the crowd, imagining Motley Crue's drummer deep inside him, owning his hips and his hole. He moaned loudly into the microphone.

Pete counted the band in, and they ripped into "Slutty Boyfriend". Ace held his microphone in one hand and his cock in the other. His semi-hard cock bounced and waved as he pranced across the stage. From the drum riser, Pete watched Ace's naked ass sway to his beat.

By now, Ace's frame was a sweaty pile of skin, hair and cotton. All he was wearing, besides his plug, was his black t-shirt. "We've got one more song to play for you tonight, Atlanta. Thanks for having us in your fine town. We fuckin' love you!"

The crowd roared. The base of Ace's buttplug was on full display every time he turned around.

He threw his long hair back, faced the bar and bowed. "But before we play our last song, we just wanna pay tribute to Carlos and everyone at Eternal for putting the show on tonight. This room is fast becoming one of our very favourite places to play."

The crowd's voice rose in appreciation for the venue's staff.

"And huge thanks to my sexy boyfriend back there in the engine room for stepping in at the last minute to play drums for us tonight. This gig would never have happened without him." Ace turned towards the drum riser, and he made the heart symbol with his hands. "I fuckin' love you, Pete."

Ace faced the crowd. "Thank you again, Atlanta," he continued. "You fuckin' rock. And special thanks for letting me play half the show with no pants on." The crowd roared as he stroked his dick to full mast. "I'm feelin' mighty hard now. Seems appropriate that our final song for tonight is called "Hot Load!"

Pete counted the band in. The bass player locked into a groove with him, and the guitarists wailed away. As the song approached its climax, the crowd sang the lyrics with Ace.

And as the band roared towards the final, crunching chord, Ace jerked himself off and fired ropes of warm sperm all over the stage. "There's a hot fuckin' load for you, Atlanta!" he screamed before licking the back of his hand clean. "You got me so fuckin' hard tonight! Eat it up! See you again soon!"

Ace threw his sweaty t-shirt into the crowd and ran backstage wearing only one thing -- his buttplug.

The house lights illuminated the room. Ace retrieved his jeans and put them back on, but his t-shirt and underwear were gone.

"Fuck, that was awesome!" yelled Ace, still buzzing from the interaction with the crowd. He ran across to Pete and jammed his tongue down his throat. "Fuck, dude, you rocked!"

The bassist and guitarists congratulated Pete for a stellar performance with a simple handshake.

"Is that the first time you've ever played a gig naked from the waist down?" asked Pete. He couldn't deny it, watching Ace play naked was a fucking unbelievable sight to see.

Ace threw his long, sweaty blonde mane of hair back. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was. I mean, most nights I'll bend over and show the crowd my plug, but I can't ever remember being semi-naked onstage for so long."

"I learned something new tonight," Pete revealed.

"What's that?"

"It's not easy to play drums with a boner."

Ace giggled. "You boned up? Really? Fuck, I'm *so* sorry about that." Of course he wasn't sorry. He loved knowing that he made Pete get erect during the show.

Pete ignored Ace's bullshit apology. "And so I guess that means tonight was the first time you've jacked yourself off onstage?"

"It was. And you know what?"

Pete waited.

"I FUCKIN' LOVED IT! I licked the back of my hand and that's the first time I've ever finished a show with the taste of sperm in my mouth." He leaned in close to Pete. "I don't wanna fuck around no more. But is it OK with you if I jack off onstage?"

Pete laughed. "How the fuck am I supposed to answer that?" he smiled. "It's fine with me, just so long as you don't get arrested." He threw Ace his denim jacket. "By the way, wear some fucking clothes," he joked.

Ace slipped Pete's jacket onto his naked upper body. The sweat on his skin was cooling. "Thanks, Pete." He took the opportunity to unzip his pants and extract his plug. Once the bulk of it passed his sphincter, it popped out. He took his mess of sweaty, stinky plastic to the bathroom. He cleaned and dried his toy, lovingly returning it to his gig backpack.

A DJ had taken over for the rest of the evening. Even though it was a Sunday night, the crowd seemed in no mood to leave.

Carlos excused himself from behind the bar to talk to the band backstage. Boipussy's guitarists and bass player were packing up. Pete had already dismantled his kit and stowed it in the back of the van. He had nothing else to do tonight, but he was in no hurry to go home.

Carlos swept the curtain away and entered the backstage area. "Fuck, you dudes rocked hard tonight!" he said.

"I feel like I can speak for the entirety of Boipussy," Ace replied, "when I say that we had an awesome night tonight, and we fuckin' love playing at Eternal!" He was bouncing off the walls with post-show energy.

"You cunts are welcome to play here anytime! And as for you," Carlos poked Pete in the chest, "don't fuckin' scare me like that!"

Pete had no idea where Carlos was coming from. "What do you mean?"

"When I saw you on stage tonight, I thought you'd left A2M. I know you and Ace are together, and ... well ... I guess I feared the worst. I know we haven't rehearsed in a few weeks ... well, not since Gorilla ... but I still want to play again. This isn't the end. And I would be devastated if you left, Pete."

Pete stepped forward and threw his arms around Carlos's shoulders. "I'm not going anywhere."

A tear rolled down Carlos's cheek. He knew the reason Pete stepped in for Boipussy tonight. "I know," he whispered. "But I was really scared there for a while. Your drums sounded so fucking good tonight."

"Wait," said Pete. "Did you think I'd leave Ass To Mouth and join Boipussy without telling you?"

Carlos processed his emotions. "No, I don't, because you're not that kind of guy. But I guess I'm just so mixed up right now, hopefully you can understand why I had doubts."

"I'm A2M for life, dude. I might be with Ace, but I'm your drummer forever. And one day, we're gonna conquer the world."

Carlos grinned so hard he thought his face might burst. At times like this, he knew who his friends were. He leaned in and embraced Pete again. "You rocked so fuckin' hard tonight, brother."

Pete squeezed back. They heard a vehicle drive away, and Ace explained that it was the rest of his band heading back to their hotel for the night.

"I'm gonna get you boys some beers," Carlos said. "Pete, your van is safe in the loading dock. Get an uber home and come back in the morning to pick it up. Stay here as late as you like."

Pete grinned. "I'm supposed to be at work in the morning, but I think I'm gonna call in sick. Whatever's on my desk can wait until Tuesday."

"Sounds to me like you're in love with a bad boy who's leading you astray," Ace teased.

"It's already started," Pete replied, ripping the top of a cool, fresh bottle of ale. "I'm calling you out right now. Fuck off, Satan."

Ace grinned. "Yeah, man. That's right. I'm the fuckin' devil." He paused for a second as his own reality slammed home. "I need to be back at work on Tuesday, too. Fucking sucks. All I ever want to do is play music."

Carlos and Pete nodded in complete understanding.

The rest of Boipussy were scheduled to be on the road back to Florida in the early hours of tomorrow morning. They didn't bother asking what Ace's plans were, it was already obvious where he was going to spend the night.

The three metalheads -- Carlos, Ace and Pete -- sat in the dressing room, talking. Eternal was jumping hard for a Sunday night, a local darkwave-metal-industrial DJ was in command of the decks, and alcohol flowed freely across the bar. The crowd drank, danced and partied until well beyond midnight.

Backstage, the three men felt the beats.

"Sounds good out there," said Ace, peeling back the curtain.

"Yeah," agreed Carlos. "You boys were awesome tonight, and there's huge amounts of cash pouring across the bar. Everyone out there's having a big night."

Pete wrapped an arm around Ace's waist. "Are you going to be a gentleman?"

"Huh?" said Ace.

"Are you going to ask me to dance with you, or are you gonna be an asshole?"

Ace grabbed Pete's hand and dragged him out onto the dancefloor. They slammed against each other, hair twirling and denim flailing. Carlos went back to work behind the bar.

Midnight came and went, and Eternal kept pumping. Around 1am, Pete's energy began to flag. He leaned in close to Ace on the dancefloor, pulling his waist close to his own. "We should probably leave soon," he said.

Ace smiled. "Yeah. I think so too." He felt Pete's hands, and noticed for the first time how rough they were. He knew why -- Pete's fingers had developed calluses from the friction of playing drums.

They left the dancefloor and went backstage to collect their things. They hugged Carlos on the way out. They knew Carlos would probably be at Eternal all night, probably closing the doors just before sunrise.

Ace and Pete sat on the back seat of an uber, their ears ringing in the quiet. "I had a fuckin' awesome time with you this weekend," whispered Ace.

"I don't want you to leave," Pete admitted. "Do you really have to go?"

Ace felt sullen. "Until Boipussy cracks the big-time, I need to pay the bills somehow."

Pete knew this was true. "I know. I get it." He wanted to suggest that Ace move to Atlanta, but he stopped himself. What would it mean for Ace's band if he moved to Georgia? And what would it mean for Ass To Mouth if Pete moved to Florida? Besides, even though it had been an extraordinary weekend, was it too soon to be so impulsive? It felt like a complicated puzzle, but he knew they had plenty of time to make all of the pieces fit.

'Just enjoy the moment,' Pete told himself. 'Just enjoy this for what it is.'

They stepped out of the car and rode the elevator to Pete's apartment. As Pete closed the door behind him, Ace stepped forward to sniff Pete's armpits. "Smells like you got a little stinky playing drums tonight." He pinched his nose comically.

Pete pretended to be offended. "Oh, is that so, smartass? You're one to talk, you fucking loudmouth, prancing around the stage fully naked, jerking your dick into the crowd." He sniffed Ace's pits. "You stink bad yourself, you know that? And what's worse, you're stinking up my denim jacket. Take it off."

"If you want it, you're gonna have to take it," challenged Ace, grinning from ear to ear.

Pete tried to grab a corner of his jacket, but Ace was too quick. Within seconds, Pete was chasing Ace around his apartment, trying to get it back. Ace accidentally knocked a lamp over before making a wrong turn and ending up in Pete's bathroom.

"There's no escape, Ace," Pete said, guarding the bathroom entrance. "Give me my jacket back before you stinkify it any further."

Ace moved in close, lowering his shoulders. Pete could smell his sweet, hot breath. "Take it from me."

Pete slowly removed his jacket from Ace's shoulders. Ace wasn't wearing anything else above the waist.

"Now what?" teased Ace, slinking forward.

"Now I'm gonna clean you up. Get naked, sexy." Pete turned the shower taps on and waited for the water temperature to warm up. Ace's naked body stepped into the warm stream and Pete followed.

They kissed under the water as their wet hair fell down their backs, their tongues engaged in civil war. Ace cupped Pete's full balls in his hand and sank to his knees. He felt Pete's dick grow in his mouth as he stroked it. Pete looked down at Ace's wet, matted hair. He felt Ace's face pistoning back and forth on his cock, teasing it, making it grow. "Fuck, Ace, I'm gonna cum."

Ace took Pete's dick out of his mouth and looked up at him through the spray. "Cum all over my face, Pete." He stroked him fast. Pete's eyes closed, his back arched and his knees buckled. "Fuck, Ace, here it comes."

Rope after rope of thick, white sperm splattered onto Ace's face before being washed away down the drain. Ace caught a few splashes in his mouth and savoured the taste.

Once Pete recovered, he helped Ace back up to his feet. He knew from previous experience that it's easier to sink to your knees in a confined space than to get back up again.

"Fuck, my knees are killing me," Ace squeaked, "but it was worth it." He groped Pete's ass and parted his juicy, wet cheeks. "I wanna fuck you now, Pete."

Pete smirked. "Ask me nicely."

Ace kissed him deeply. He focused on the beautiful array of freckles scattered across Pete's nose and cheeks. He brushed Pete's wet, shoulder-length Irish hair back as he gazed into his eyes. "Can I please fuck you, Pete?"

"You never need to ask." Pete turned around and spread his pussy wide. Ace teased his boyfriend's hole with a wet finger, then two. He knew Ace was stroking himself to full hardness behind him. "Put it in me, Ace. I want to feel you inside me."

Ace slowly forced his engorged penis into his boyfriend's tight boipussy. He felt Pete's ass clench around his shaft, as if never to let him go. Ace kissed Pete's shoulders and neck as he ploughed into him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Pete seethed. "Go deep."

Ace buried himself balls-deep inside Pete's cunt, and Pete moaned deeply in response. Ace reached around to grope Pete's cock while he fucked him. He stroked Pete hard and jacked another load out of him. And as Pete came, and his asshole twitched and flexed around Ace's shaft, Ace reached the point of no return. He roared as he fired his liquid bullets deep into Pete's bowels.

He slowly withdrew, and Pete turned to face him. "I fucking love you," Pete said, gripping Ace's face as he thrust his tongue deep down his throat. Their eyes closed as water from the shower nozzle sprayed across their faces.

"Even though I'm a bad influence?" Ace teased. "Even though I'm gonna corrupt your pure soul?"

Pete grinned. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course you can," smiled Ace. "You can tell me anything."

"I like bad boys," Pete admitted, before jamming his long tongue back into Ace's mouth. He clasped his arms around Ace's waist, pulling him close. "I always have. I like naughty boys with long blonde hair who wear denim and have shitloads of sexy tattoos."

"I think I know someone who fits that description," said Ace. Warm water continued spewing out of the shower nozzle.

Pete reached for the bar of soap and began washing Ace's flaccid, spent penis before washing the rest of his body. When he was done, Ace returned the favour.

Pete turned the water off and they dried each other before sliding under Pete's comforter.

Their bodies were warm from the shower. They climbed under Pete's comforter and slept in each other's arms.

Their ears were still ringing.

Tinnitus is a bitch.