The Adventures of Boipussy Pt. 11

Ace came down to the Dallas hotel café around 10am the next morning for a late breakfast. Candii was already long gone from their room by the time he woke up. As he got dressed, he swore he could still smell her in the room.

With the tour in full swing, she was a busy girl these days. Before coming down for breakfast, Ace checked the kitchen area to see if there was a note from her. Nothing. He checked his phone -- again, no news. Right now, it didn't matter all that much. He needed to wake up. He had a show to play.

Ace dressed, threw his denim jacket on, and caught the elevator. He was hungry.

The members of Ass To Mouth were sitting at a table, making their way through breakfast. Ace approached Pete and Carlos from behind, wrapping a satisfied arm around each of their shoulders. "She signed us up last night."

"What? Who did?" Pete was absentmindedly munching on a piece of toast. "What are you talking about?" He still felt half-asleep. His eyes were bleary as he reached for his coffee.

"Candii," Ace replied, stealing a vacant seat at their table. "We got a record deal. Same deal as you guys, she said."

"Sweet!" Carlos stood up and gave Ace a strong, manly hug. "You got a contract! You dudes fuckin' deserve it. It's not a great deal, but hey, we've all gotta start somewhere, right?" He shrugged optimistically.

Ace leaned in conspiratorially. "I need to tell you something else," he said. "Something about Candii. Something you... might not be aware of."

Carlos and Pete edged forward as if they were about to learn the nuclear launch codes, but they felt sure they already knew what was coming.

Ace stuttered. "She's... umm... guys, I'm really not sure how to say this, but..."

"Yeah, Candii's trans," blurted Carlos. "We already know." Pete elbowed his boyfriend in the ribs and frowned at him. He wanted to see how Ace would describe Candii in his own words, and he was disappointed that Carlos had let him off the hook.

Ace gasped. "How the fuck did you know already?"

The cat was out of the bag now. "Because she flashed her dick at us backstage somewhere in Canada," Pete deadpanned. "I think it was the same night she signed us."

Ace grinned. "I slept with her last night. She's fuckin' dynamite in the sack." Carlos and Pete glanced at each other, waiting for some juicy details, but right at this moment, Ace noticed the rest of Boipussy arriving for breakfast. "I need to go tell the boys about the deal." He poured himself a coffee and wandered across to deliver the good news. The other four members of Boipussy were ecstatic. They were officially on the first rung of the rock 'n roll ladder.

Buses departed on time and the entourage made their way to an open field somewhere on the outskirts of Dallas. The bands looked over a perimeter fence to today's stage.

The mood today, at least for Swallow Records' two most recent signees, was nothing short of euphoric. Boipussy rocked, full of the adrenalin that comes from inking a fresh recording contract. As usual, Ace pranced the stage with a fat buttplug up his ass. He pulled his jeans down just before the last song, bent over and pulled his cheeks apart, showing the base of the plug to the crowd. He heard roars in response. He pulled it out just before their final song began and held it aloft like a trophy.

Ass To Mouth had none of the technical glitches that plagued part of their set in Austin. They fucking shredded. Everything went perfectly, and the crowd roared in appreciation. As a sweaty A2M came off stage, both bands felt on top of the world. Carlos and Pete each grabbed a cool ale backstage.

"I'm gonna check out the bate room," said Ace. "I wanna see what's happening over there. I feel horny as fuck right now."

"Report back when you're done?" Pete asked, necking the last of his beer. "I'm curious."

"So am I, that's why I'm checking it out," Ace yelled over his shoulder. "If you're so curious, why don't you come with me?"

For now, Pete was happy to let Ace be the pioneer. "Because I just came offstage and I'm sweating like a pig." He draped a towel around his shoulders.

"You sure?" Ace tempted. "I can tell you all about Candii on the way."

Drumming in a heavy metal band was hard work, and Pete's thirst remained unslaked. He tore the cap off another bottle of beer and took a slug. Ace's stories about his night with Candii could wait. "Have fun," he waved, running the towel across his sweaty face.

Ace opened the door to the bate room. It wasn't a room as such; it was better described as an open-air platform set aside for public masturbation. The platform held a few benches and chairs, and a box of tissues, a bottle of lube and a basket full of condoms sat on a nearby table.

Nobody else was here. Everyone was either rockin' out to Femboy Hooters' afternoon set, or chugging beers. Ace shrugged. A few moments later, he was naked, except for his denim jacket -- this was the only item of clothing still left touching his skin. He sat on a bench and relaxed, listening to the distant riffs as the late spring breeze tickled his nutsack. He spat on his hand, closed his eyes and began stroking. He didn't mind being on his own. The sun was out and his dick was in his hand; what more could a sexy man want? His cock began to swell and grow as he nodded in time with Femboy Hooters' hot riffs.

"Mahnd if ah join you?" Ace opened his eyes, squinting a little as he looked up into the sun. He saw a man standing next to him. Ace guessed he was about forty, maybe forty-five. Fit enough, though beginning to weary with labour and age. Ace detected a thick, slow southern drawl and the acrid smell of chewing tobacco. "Ah been waitin' for someone to appear here."

"Be my guest," said Ace. "Someone needs to kickstart this fuckin' bate room somehow, don't they?"

The man undressed, folding his clothes into a neat pile. He sat down next to Ace and began to stroke his smallish cock. He kept a respectable distance from his fellow masturbator.

Ace felt compelled to make a weak attempt at conversation. "You from Texas?"

"Yup. Sure am, boy. Born 'n bred, 'n ah got the guns 'n ammo to prove it. Mah trailer's in a park not more than fifteen miles from these here parts."

Ace closed his eyes again, lost in his own world of heavy metal and handsex.

"Mahnd if ah ask you a question?" asked the trailer park Texan.

"Sure."

"You that prettyboy who was in that first band? The fella with the plug up his ass?"

Ace laughed. "Yeah, that was me." He smiled as he closed his eyes again.

Ace felt a hand on his balls, and then a mouth on the tip of his dick. As he opened his eyes in surprise, the trailer park dude sucked his shaft into his mouth like a vacuum. "Dude, ease up," Ace pleaded.

The trailer park dude took Ace's dick out of his mouth for just long enough to address Ace's concerns. "Ah know what ah'm doin', n' you fuckin' city-slicker prettyboy is just about to fahnd out how good we suck dick in Texas."

Ace felt a rough, wet tongue stroking the length of his shaft. The Texan's hand was soaked in his own spit, and Ace's dick was saturated. This was one of the sloppiest blowjobs Ace had ever received. "Dude, I..."

"Shut the fuck up," drawled the Texan, forcing his wet, callused index finger deep into Ace's boipussy. He found Ace's prostate gland immediately.

Ace's dick began to twitch, and the trailer park dude sucked even harder.

Ace threw his head back and unloaded deep into the stranger's throat with a satisfied grunt. He looked down at the hungry dude kneeling between his thighs. Not a drop of his cum went to waste.

The Texan swallowed. "You like that, prettyboy?" He grinned as he pulled his finger out of Ace's boipussy. "Yeah, fucker, I know you did."

Ace blinked. "You weren't kidding when you said you know what you were doing."

The trailer park dude grabbed a few tissues and wiped the saliva off his hand. "Tell your friends. Name's not important, you c'n just call me Tex. Ah'll be here all day, eatin' as much hot fuck'n metalhead sperm as ah c'n git."

Ace wasn't sure how to bring the news back. "I think this is meant to be a bate room, Tex. Like, it's meant for dudes to whip their dicks out and jack off, and..."

"You tellin' me folks in these here parts liable to complain about a hungry wet mouth?"

"You make an excellent point, Tex." With all the post-nut aplomb Ace could muster, he wiped his cock dry and got dressed. He left the bate room and headed backstage again.

The Texan cocksucker sat on a bench, waiting patiently for someone else to show up. He seemed in no hurry. His head rocked back and forth in time with the riffs.

*

"Carlos," said Ace. "There's a dude in the bate room..."

Carlos grinned. "Good, because it'd be dead otherwise..."

"Shut up!" Ace shouted. "Some grizzly old Texan cocksucker. He said he's gonna be there all day. I think he was waiting for someone to blow, and I guess I was the first. He's ugly as sin, but my god, what a mouth."

Pete, standing nearby and overhearing, raised a sceptical eyebrow. He folded his arms across his chest in defiance.

"Wait. No way was he as good as you, Pete," Ace clarified. "If fellatio was an Olympic sport, you'd win gold for America. But he was eager, enthusiastic, and sloppy as fuck. Anyway, I know it's meant to be a bate room, but..."

"Why does it matter if dudes get blown or even fuck in there?" asked Pete. "If I was jacking off next to a stranger, I'd at least be looking at his cock and asking if I could touch it. Maybe ask Candii what the rules are?"

Ace stroked his chin. He remembered seeing a basket of rubbers on a table. If the room was purely for masturbation, why would there be condoms? "I haven't seen her since last night, and she was already gone when I woke up this morning."

Ace's train of thought drifted away. He thought about her. Even though he shared a room with Candii last night, he wasn't sure where he stood. Maybe it was just for one night, and besides, she was monumentally busy right now organising the tour and today's show. Maybe it was best to let events play out as they may.

*

Night began to fall. Beta Clinic's set was immense, and Kuntlapper mopped up afterwards. The crowd was going nuts. Carlos, Ace and Pete were all backstage, but from their vantage point, they could see the bate room. It was active, but Ace couldn't tell from this distance whether the trailer park Texan was still there.

It was dark. They heard an ominous, rumbling synth note that was deep enough to penetrate souls.

Hypnosissy took the stage in complete darkness. A slow, churning drumbeat began. The bass guitar joined in, completing the droning, dark rhythm. A wailing guitar sailed across the top before joining the beat in a tight, metallic lockstep. Behind them, on a giant screen, a hypnotic spiral began. Images of male chests, torsos, thighs, calves, asses, testicles and penises began to appear.

Carlos stood behind Pete. As the slow, pounding riff penetrated their skins and their souls, neither of them could tear their eyes away from the explicit visuals of male sexual fantasy.

Pete reached back and looped a desperate thumb into his boyfriend's belt. "Bate room," he said. "Now." Carlos had no time to respond. Pete grabbed his boyfriend's hand and led him along.

They opened the door to find maybe fifteen long-haired metalheads jacking off languidly, but the mood changed dramatically when a cock-hungry dude appeared in the middle of the room, pulled his jeans down to his ankles, and assumed the position.

Carlos ate his boyfriend's ass for a few seconds and spat on his own dick before entering him.

Most of the bate room crew recognised the sexy long-haired Mexican from Ass To Mouth, and they wondered if they were about to get an up-close display of their band name. Nobody was sure who the bottom was.

Ace followed them to the room. Pete needed a second dick inside him and pleaded for Ace to fill his mouth. As soon as Ace's cock landed on Pete's tongue, he knew he'd be lucky to last for just a few seconds. As soon as Pete got him close, Ace pulled his dick out of his mouth and jacked himself off all over Pete's face. Pete fucking loved it.

A queue formed, and every dude who stuck his cock in Pete's mouth was stunned at how fast he got them off.

Carlos kept up a slow, steady rhythm in his boyfriend's ass, thrusting in time with Hypnosissy's satanic pulse.

The earth shook with dark metal riffs. The screen behind Hypnosissy showed a loop of nipples, scrotums, armpits, feet, thighs, assholes, and gigantic cocks spewing cum in slow motion.

Word travelled around the room. Soon, everyone had learned that the bottom with the shoulder-length red hair and sexy freckles was Pete, Ass To Mouth's drummer. Nobody recognised Pete when he and Carlos entered the room, but they sure as hell knew him now. None of them would never forget his amazing mouth.

Carlos couldn't hold back anymore. With a moan, he unloaded deep in his sexy drummer's asshole. While there was no ass to mouth tonight, bate room attendees had no reason to feel disappointed.

After an hour, Hypnosissy's set ended and the floodlights came on. Pete's face was caked in dried cum. He must've swallowed fifteen, maybe twenty loads. Maybe even more; he'd lost count.

Carlos helped Pete to his feet. He found a towel to wipe his boyfriend's face and neck. "Are you OK?"

Pete's hair was streaked with semen. "Yeah," he replied, touching his face, "my jaw is sore, but that's to be expected. My stomach feels a little strange, though."

Carlos smiled, laughing a little. "Probably because you just swallowed a fuckin' lake of jizz."

"I feel like I've already eaten tomorrow's breakfast," Pete grinned, massaging his jaw. "That was a seriously big protein shake." His hair was a tangled mess. Carlos knew his boyfriend was a god tier cocksucker, but he had no idea until now just how cum-hungry he was.

Or maybe Hypnosissy's set had triggered him somehow. As Carlos looked back to the now-empty stage, he saw the same endless loop of a deliciously suckable dick, shooting thick ropes of sperm in slow motion, that he saw in Austin after Hypnosissy had finished that night. He couldn't stop staring at it.

The entourage decamped and headed back to the hotel. Their road crews worked long hours into the night, dismantling the stage and packing each band's gear up for transportation to the next show.

Back at the hotel, Pete showered long, washing dried cum out of his hair. He brushed his teeth for ten minutes before climbing into bed next to Carlos. His boyfriend was perched on pillows, watching the TV news, but once Pete was ready for bed, he turned the set off. He kissed Pete on the cheek. "You sounded fucking awesome today. Your drums rocked the earth."

Pete rolled over to face his lead singer. "The best thing about being the drummer in Ass To Mouth is watching your sexy ass sway from side to side while you play. It's almost hypnotic."

Carlos let the word 'hypnotic' resonate for a moment before jamming his tongue deep into Pete's mouth. "I've never seen anyone suck cock like you before in my life," he said, stroking his drummer's thick red hair and touching his beautifully freckled face.

Sure, Pete loved to suck dick, but he couldn't remember ever being as big a cumslut as he was tonight. He didn't respond to Carlos's comment because he was lost in thought, wondering what had come over him. He wondered whether Hypnosissy's onstage visuals had triggered him in some deep, strange, unexplainable way.

Tomorrow was a rest day, and they could sleep late. They'd be travelling to New Orleans in the afternoon in time for a show the next day. There'd be plenty of time for Pete to think on the bus. For now, he succumbed to sleep.

Exit light; enter night.

Elsewhere in the hotel, a somewhat discombobulated Ace swiped his key and opened the door to his empty hotel room. The quiet felt like an anticlimax. He hadn't heard from Candii all day, though he hadn't made any attempt to contact her either. He knew she was busy, and he didn't want to distract her from her tasks.

It had been a long, eventful day for everyone, and Ace was ready for sleep. He stripped off and stepped into the shower cubicle. He let the warm water run down his long hair and across his lean body, and as he thought about the sexy trans woman he fucked last night, his cock began to grow. He squirted some hair conditioner into the palm of his hand and began to stroke himself. Images of Carlos, Pete and Candii flashed through his mind as he fired rope after rope of sperm against the shower wall.

He let the shower wash his spent cock clean, but he left his DNA to dry on the glass. He shut the water off and reached for a towel. His plan was to raid the minibar, watch some TV and sleep in tomorrow, but you know what they say about best laid plans.

His phone rang. It was Candii. He couldn't reach it in time, which meant she had to leave a message. He raced over to it and stared at the handset, knowing her words were accumulating. Eventually, he heard the beep, and he replayed her message.

'Hey, Ace,' she began, 'I'm just calling to say that Boipussy's set today was awesome. Thanks for the show! I was wondering if you'd be free for a nightcap. I've got a bottle of chilled champagne for both of us. I'm in room 811, come up and knock. We don't have to do anything if you don't want to, but... well... I really like you, Ace, and maybe we could just lie in bed with glasses of champagne, playing with each other's cocks... maybe sucking each other with champagne in our mouths... have you ever done that before?... the bubbles tickle nice... and by the way, I loved the way you fucked me last night..."

Ace didn't bother listening to the rest of the message. He threw on the minimal amount of clothes required by society, ran into the corridor, and stabbed the button for the 8th floor.

Candii threw the door open with a grin. She wore the Boipussy/A2M t-shirt that Ace gifted her on the bus a few days ago, and nothing else. It barely contained her huge fake tits, and Ace could see her dick poking out under the hem. "Hey, rockstar," she cooed, flashing her lashes. "I'm glad you got my message. Please come in."

Ace nearly melted. She was hot like fire. "Thanks for the invitation, Candii, but I don't know why I'm here. I'm not into chicks," he pleaded, almost as trying to convince himself he shouldn't be here. She closed the door behind him.

"Oh, sweetie, I know," Candii whispered. "Just pretend I'm a boy. Look," she said, pointing to her small flaccid cock. "I've got a boytoy too." She paused for a second. "You wanna... you wanna play with my boytoy?"

Ace fell to his knees, running his tongue and lips across the head of Candii's sweet clitty. He heard her feminine squeaks and moans as he felt her stiffen in his mouth. She put her hands on the back of Ace's head as she held him in place, gently fucking his face.

She came in his mouth, moaning lightly. Ace swallowed, licking her sweet dick clean.

"The perfect ending to a perfect day," declared Candii.

Ace recognised the line from a Sonic Youth song. He wanted to stay with her tonight, but he wasn't sure if her invitation stretched that far. Besides, she'd just said 'perfect ending'. He thought maybe he should head back to his own room.

"It's been a long day," declared Candii. "But like I said, I've got a bottle of champagne open." She poured him a glass of bubbles as well as one for herself. She drained her glass immediately and threw it towards the wall. Ace flinched, expecting the glass to shatter into a thousand shards, but it bounced back. The vessel was plastic, just like her sweet titties.

"I've worked so hard today," Candii pouted. "I need to take a shower. Would you like to join me?" She fluttered her fake eyelashes again.