The Adventures of Boipussy Pt. 11

"I just puked," Ace confessed. "Candii took me to a jazz bar and I guess I had a few too many. Swallow was buying. What's a man to do?"

This was the rockstar lifestyle. Drinking until way late on the record company's dime, throwing up in the morning mere hours before the next show...

"You feeling OK?" asked Carlos.

"Yeah. Been ages since I had a night like last night, but I'm glad I threw up a second ago. Someone once told me many years ago 'better out than in', though the statement clearly doesn't apply when it comes to cock." He paused for a moment, smiling. "Trust me, I'll be fine after breakfast."

Candii approached their table. She pointed to the vacant seat next to Ace. "Anyone sitting here?" Ace pulled the seat back from the table for her. "So chivalrous." She kissed him on the cheek before turning her attention to the two boys from Ass To Mouth. "How's the tour going for you, Carlos?"

"This is the best time I've ever had in my life," he beamed. "Even the technical fuckup we suffered at the first show can't bring me down."

She turned to address Pete. "And I heard you had quite the time in the bate room the other night," she confided.

Pete was surprised. "What did you hear?"

"I heard it was a blowbang of epic proportions."

Pete blushed before Carlos interrupted. "Nobody sucks cock like Pete." He threw a proud arm around his boyfriend's shoulders.

Ace struggled with a mouthful of scrambled egg. "It's true. Pete could win wars with his mouth."

Candii imagined Pete on his knees while the two frontmen fucked his face. Her clitty tingled.

Pete tried to explain. "Let's just say that there's something about Hypnosissy's live set that makes me horny. Something about them really cranks my handle." He paused for a moment. "Like, when they're onstage, I suddenly feel empty, and I need to be filled with as much cock as I can get. I think it might be the visuals they play. They're hypnotic."

"They are," Candii agreed, nodding. She said no more.

"I'm worried they might be... affecting me... in some way."

Carlos wondered the same thing. Candii kept her counsel.

*

New Orleans was hot and humid. Boipussy played first, and the crowd was in the zone by the time Ass To Mouth took the stage. Half the men in the crowd were shirtless. Carlos made extended eye-contact with a sweaty, tattooed, long-haired stud in the front row, pushed hard up against the barricade. In days gone by, he'd have made himself available after the show, but times had changed. He blew the stud a kiss and pointed the neck of his guitar at him, stroking the fretboard. The stud flopped his tongue out in a surprising gesture of submission.

Word had travelled far and wide; most of the people at the New Orleans show had heard about the bate room blowbang and the drummer who'd been at the centre of it all. Heads bobbed up and down in time with A2M's riffs, and the crowd's eyes darted back and forth between the sexy frontman and the expert cocksucker bashing the shit out of his drumkit.

Pete came offstage feeling thirsty as fuck. He poured a beer down his neck so fast he barely even swallowed.

*

Night began to fall, and Pete began to feel nervous about what might happen later tonight. He flirted with the idea of pretending to be ill. He could maybe catch a cab back to the hotel so he could avoid Hypnosissy's performance, yet at the same time, he couldn't wait for them to play. He ate a little dinner, but he wasn't particularly hungry.

Femboy Hooters finished their set and filler music pumped out of the PA as the roadcrew prepared the stage for the evening's final onslaught.

Pete heard the bass synth note that began his transformation into a desperate, slutty manwhore.

The drums began. Then the bass, then the guitar.

And then the visuals started.

Pete was a quivering mess, desperate for cock. He couldn't tear his eyes from the screen. They were doing something to him. His pussy twitched as he began to sweat with desire. He turned to face his boyfriend. "Carlos, I... please look after me." His eyes were pleading. "Take me somewhere. Take me away. I only want you."

Carlos led Pete into a vacant room backstage. The room shook with Hypnosissy's performance, but there was nobody else around. The band's hypnotic visuals were unseen.

Pete kneeled, and Carlos allowed him to unbuckle his belt, pull down his zip and extract his fat Mexican penis. Pete looked up at his boyfriend's face before focusing on his dick. He licked the tip as he felt Hypnosissy's bass pounding through his chest. He let the head of Carlos's cock rest gently on his tongue before he closed his lips around it.

Pete knew he could make any man cum inside a minute if he really wanted to. He was aware of his superpower. But tonight, all he wanted was to feel heavy metal music rumbling through his veins while he delicately held a beautiful penis in his mouth.

He looked up at Carlos. "Are you OK?"

Carlos's knees were trembling. "Might be better if I sat down."

Pete stood up and rescued a stray plastic chair from a corner of the room. "Here," he said, and his boyfriend sat down.

Pete kneeled before him. He stared at his boyfriend's erect dick, studying its veins, curves and ridges. He smelled it, inhaling its sweaty, masculine scent. He noticed a pearl of precum at the tip. He dipped his fingertip into it for a moment, watching the thick, viscous liquid cling to his skin.

Pete felt the music pummel his brain. He wanted nothing more than to impale his face on his boyfriend's cock, and then two hundred more, but somehow, he restrained himself. He put the thought out of his mind, focusing his entire concentration on his boyfriend's beautiful appendage. Cupping his balls in anticipation of what he'd soon be eating, he ran his tongue up and down the length of Carlos's shaft.

The room continued to shake with Hypnosissy's dark, satanic riffs.

Pete lovingly licked his boyfriend's sack while he continued stroking his wet shaft. "I love you," he whispered, looking up at him.

"I love you too," Carlos replied.

Pete tickled the head of his boyfriend's cock with his fingers while he slowly ran his tongue up and down the shaft. He heard Carlos's breathing become more irregular; the unmistakeable telltale sign.

Pete couldn't restrain himself any any longer. He buried Carlos's beautiful cock deep in his throat, and as his boyfriend's hips momentarily lifted up from the soft curve of the plastic chair, he felt him spray like a firehose.

Pete swallowed everything.

Moments later, they stood in the middle of the room, their arms around each other's waists and their tongues buried in each other's throats. Outside, Hypnosissy continued to wreak destruction.

"They've still got two or three songs to go," said Carlos. "Wanna go watch? I'm cool if you don't want to."

Pete smiled, taking his boyfriend's hand. "Come on."

As Hypnosissy's final song ended, Pete watched the loop of the ejaculating cock. It was so beautiful, so soothing; so hypnotic. He gripped Carlos's hand tight.

Bate room attendees anticipating an impromptu blowbang were disappointed, but safe in their hotel room later that night, Carlos returned the favour. After being teased for what felt like an eternity, Pete flooded Carlos's mouth. They kissed, sharing Pete's load between them.

Pete slept on his back, and Carlos draped an arm across his drummer's torso.