The Adventures of Boipussy Pt. 13

Walking out of the shadows came Pete's mom and Carlos's mom. They'd flown up to New York early this morning. They were thrilled at their sons' musical success and their hearts melted at their love for each other. The musicians raced over to hug their moms, each surprised beyond belief that Candii had managed, on top of everything else she'd achieved these past two weeks, to get in touch with their mothers and fly them up for the gig.

"OK, boys," said Candii, "your moms are here, so whatsay we get you two hitched?"

Pete was wondering where the cameras were hidden. This was either a reality TV show, or an elaborate hoax.

Carlos nodded. He was ready for this, but he needed to be sure his partner was too. "You alright, Pete?"

Pete wiped his eyes. "Yes," he whispered, nodding. They weren't dressed for this (he'd imagined them wearing smart black suits) and they hadn't written personal vows, but something about this moment and this location felt perfect.

Right on cue, Candii's phone rang. The marriage celebrant she'd booked had arrived, and security was escorting him backstage. "I love it when a plan comes together," she whispered to herself.

In front of the celebrant, the boys spoke to each other from their hearts. Someone rummaged around backstage and found some cable ties, so they used those as placeholders for their wedding rings. They'd go shopping when they got back home. Pete already had an idea for the ring he wanted to get made for Carlos -- it'd have images of guitars carved into the precious metal.

The celebrant declared them married, and Carlos embraced his drummer. "I love you, my soulmate."

"I love you too," Pete replied, and they kissed their first kiss as a married couple.

Their moms were so fucking happy for their sons, and so grateful they were able to be here to watch them tie the knot. Photos were taken, but soon enough, Femboy Hooters rocked into their final tune and it was nearly time for Boipussy to take the stage. "Hey Ace, get that plug in there nice and tight," Candii teased. "There's twenty thousand people out there waiting to watch you to pull it back out."

There were moms in the room who probably had no idea what Candii was talking about, so deferentially, Ace took his leave. He rammed the plastic home in the men's room before approaching his bandmates. "Last show of the tour, boys. We ready?"

High-fives sealed the deal, and five minutes later, the five members of Boipussy stood in the wings, ready to climb the stairs to take the stage. As they waited for their cue from the stage manager, Candii crept up behind a nervous Ace and lovingly wrapped her arms around his waist. "You ready for this, rockstar?"

Ace genuinely wasn't sure. There were thousands of people out there. He couldn't see them, but they made a deafening roar. "I don't know." His boipussy was twitching around the base of his plug.

"You were born for this moment," Candii whispered into his ear. "When Pete said that we should put you guys on the bill for this tour, I wasn't sure. It felt risky to bring such an unknown band on the road, but it was one of the best decisions I've ever made. I love your music so fucking much. I believe in you, I'm so glad I met you, and if it's not too forward of me to say, I think I love you."

Ace raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You ... love me?"

Candii looked a little crestfallen. She wasn't expecting that response. "Is that so strange?" she asked. Suddenly, she wished she hadn't said anything.

Ace gulped, knowing this was a crucial moment. He'd just witnessed two close friends get hitched and he was just about to go onstage in front of the biggest crowd he'd ever performed for, so there were a lot of big things on his mind. He could tell her words were genuine, but she caught him at a bad time. He tried hard to focus. What did he really want? After the tour ended, was he just gonna go back to his previous life as a Florida fuckboi, or was it time for him to think about settling down with a partner? Never in his life did he think he'd have a relationship with a trans girl, but there was no denying that Candii had gotten under his skin lately. He thought about his friends who got married just a few minutes ago. Carlos and Pete weren't going to be monogamous, but they'd be faithful to each other in their hearts. Why couldn't he and Candii do something similar? He stood at the stage door for a moment, trying to think.

He turned around to face her, meeting her gaze, holding her hands. His trans girl was beautiful. "I think I love you too, Candii."

Candii gasped, then squealed. "My rockstar," she whispered before jamming her hungry tongue deep into his mouth. She patted him on the ass. "Rock the casbah, boy. Remember as much of this night as you can." She jumped up and down on the spot, clapping her hands together, feeling deliriously happy.

The band's cue arrived, Boipussy ran onstage, and they fucking owned New York City for a solid hour. Ace ripped his microphone off the stand and the band began to wail.

Two songs in, the chant started up. "Take it out! Take it out!" A few people in the audience had brought their own buttplugs to the gig, proudly waving them in the air.

Ace chuckled. "I got something really special for y'all to see tonight," he teased, "but you're gonna have to wait."

"Take it out! Take it out!"

Ace put his microphone back on the stand to free his arms, and he motioned to unbutton his jeans. The crowd went nuts. "Like I said, I got something special for y'all." He began pulling his denim down just a fraction, exposing the top of a pair of frilly pink panties.

The crowd roared.

"You see that, New York?" he teased. "I wonder what else is down there?" He left the crowd on tenterhooks as he counted the band into their next tune.

With three songs to go, Ace knew he'd teased the crowd enough. "You want it?" he shouted into his mic, and the crowd responded. He undid the top button on his jeans again, turned his back to the crowd, and began to edge them down. Again, the crowd caught a glimpse of the top of his pink panties. "I wore these tonight 'specially for y'all," he said. He pulled his jeans down a little more, very slowly, exposing his entire ass. The base of his buttplug was clearly visible under the fabric of his pink panties, and the word BOIPUSSY was emblazoned across the fabric of his panties. "In case you didn't know what a boipussy was before," he smiled, "you know now."

The crowd lost whatever was left of its mind when Ace pulled his panties down and extracted his plug. He threw the plastic, his jeans and his panties into the crowd, coming to the last song wearing nothing but his t-shirt and boots.

Ace was sweaty as hell. He threw his long blond mane back over his head. "We've got one more tune for y'all," he said. "Know what it is?"

The crowd screamed. "Hot Load!"

Ace comically cupped a hand around his ear. "What was that, New York? Didn't hear you..."

"HOT LOAD!"

"That's right, Manhattan," Ace confirmed, touching his naked cock. It began to stiffen under his touch. "And you know what happens during this tune?"

The crowd roared.

"Got something a little different in store for you tonight," teased Ace. "Would you please welcome to the stage, all the way from somewhere up in snowy fuckin' Canada, Candii from Swallow Records!"

Candii ran onto the stage to embrace her rockstar. She wore nothing but her high heels and a pair of faded denim overalls that barely contained her massive plastic breasts. She grabbed Ace's mic and stood in the middle of the stage. "I'm here to collect the hot load," she breathed.

"You're just in time," Ace smiled. He loved her outfit. "Get to work, bitch."

In front of a capacity crowd, the band rocked into their final number as Candii sank to her knees in front of her boyfriend's cock. She looked up at him as he belted out the words to their most famous song. She pulled the straps of her overalls off her shoulders, letting her tits fall out. She stroked his dick, rubbing the head against her nipples as she teased his shaft with her dainty fingernails.

Without warning, she jammed two wet fingers deep inside Ace's boipussy.

Ace's sweaty hole was already loosened and dilated from the plug, and she found his prostate after a few seconds. Pressing lightly, yet firmly, she was rewarded with an ooze of precum. She pressed a little harder, tickling his gland with a fingernail, and it felt so good Ace nearly forgot the words. She tickled him some more, and a blinding white light bolted through his brain as he fired ropes of thick sperm into Candii's mouth.

He helped her to her feet. She stood beside her rockstar and kissed him, swapping Ace's load back and forth in full view of twenty thousand screaming, delirious fans.

Candii leaned into Ace's mic. "That was a hot load!" she screamed.

"Thank you, New York," concluded Ace, "and good night!" His mouth was filled with the taste of Candii's tongue and his own sweet seed.

Boipussy ran offstage, knowing they'd destroyed. It was one of the tightest shows they'd ever played. The DJ kicked in as the stagecrew prepared for A2M to take the stage.

Ace grabbed a towel and a beer before wrapping his sweaty arms around Carlos's and Pete's shoulders. He was still naked from the waist down, but it wasn't anything the boys hadn't seen before. He craned his neck back towards the stage door. "Fuck, I wish I could go back out there and do it all over again, but it's your turn now. Soak it in, my beautiful friends." Thirstily, he walked away in search of more beer, high-fiving everyone in sight. He couldn't wait to stand in the wings watching Ass To Mouth lift the roof off.

"You still feeling nervous?" Carlos asked Pete.

Pete looked into his husband's sexy, dark brown eyes. "It's so strange. After everything that's happened today, I've never felt so calm. I should feel nervous as hell right now, but I don't. I should be crouched over a toilet bowl, throwing my guts up, but I'm not. I don't know why." He paused for a second. "I guess I'm just going with it."

They were both in the zone. "We're gonna kill tonight, Pete."

Pete nodded. "Yes, we are. Let's fuckin' get this done."

Candii grabbed a mic and ran onstage. She was still wearing the overalls she wore when she collected Ace's hot load, but the straps were back over her shoulders and her huge tits were once more hidden from view. "Hey, New York!" The crowd surged. "Weren't Boipussy awesome?" Again, the crowd roared. "I'm here right now to introduce our final band for tonight. All the way from Atlanta, Georgia, give it up for Ass To Mouth!"

The four members of A2M ran onstage under heavy spotlights. Pete took his place behind the drums. He perched on his stool and did a quick check of his kit -- his drums, percussion and foot pedals were all in the right place, and everything was miked up correctly. The bass player plugged into his DI box and played a few test notes to make sure the signal was getting through to the mixing desk and speakers. The rhythm guitarist plugged into his rig and strummed a couple of chords. Everyone was ready to rock.

Carlos grabbed his mic. "Good evening, New York fucking City!" he screamed. "We're thrilled to be here for our first ever show in Manhattan!" He ripped into the riff of their first song, 'Chunky Trucker', and the rest of the band joined in behind him. Stage lights pulsed and flashed, and in the audience, thousands upon thousands of heads bobbed up and down in time with the beat. Back in the engine room, Pete thrashed the helldrums to death and back while Carlos's lead guitar wailed and screamed.

Their set was flawless. A2M were onstage for an hour, but it felt like time passed in the blink of an eye. They finished their final song and ran offstage, but the crowd wanted more.

Backstage, Carlos threw a fresh towel around his neck and grabbed a beer. His hair was soaked with sweat.

"They want more," said Candii. "You boys got another one in you?"

"Let's do what we did in Atlanta," said Pete, towelling off. "We'll do a cover of a song we love, and Ace can sing?"

Ace stood up. He'd found a new pair of pants. "Fuck yeah." He wanted to get back out onstage again, even if it was only for a few minutes.

"OK, what classic songs do we all know?" asked Carlos. "We did 'Back In Black' at Eternal, but surely there are other tunes we can do?"

After a brief huddle, A2M plus Ace ran onstage with a song in their pocket. Ace grabbed the mic. "Hey, New Yawwwk," he drawled, "y'all can't get enough of us, hey?"

The crowd lost its mind.

"How 'bout we give you one more slab of hot metal for you to take home with you?"

Like tributes, buttplugs in the crowd were held aloft once more as the band crashed into Led Zeppelin's 'Whole Lotta Love'. Ace writhed across the stage in his sweaty black t-shirt, belting out the lyrics while Carlos nailed down the riff. At the back of the stage, Pete smashed the crap out of his drums.

Their last thundering chord, and the deafening, echoing roar of the crowd that followed it, would be tattooed onto their collective memories forever.

*

A couple of hours later, Pete and Carlos walked back out onto the stage area. Everything was packed up. All of their gear was in roadcases, halfway to the airport ready to be flown back to Atlanta. Everyone involved in the tour had finished for the night and were back at their hotels. The enormous room was deathly quiet. The only illumination came from a few small lights that would remain on all night until morning. Nobody else was around. They felt like the last two people left in the universe. They never wanted to leave this place.

"It's so quiet in here," Pete observed. "Just a couple of hours ago, we destroyed this place." He looked out in the direction of the audience's seats, now cloaked in an almost black darkness.

"I bet it's not so quiet outside," Carlos volunteered. "There's a whole metropolis pulsing around us, just outside these walls. There's a whole life out there, with millions of people. If we wanted to, we could hail a taxi and go anywhere in Manhattan. This is the city than never sleeps."

"I could never hail a taxi in New York," Pete confessed. "I can't whistle like Candii."

Carlos laughed.

Pete didn't want to be anywhere else but here. "Tonight went well," he ventured, "don't you think?"

"This has been the best night of my entire life," Carlos beamed. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face. "We fucking rocked the shit out of New York City, and we got married. I'll probably never have a better night like this as long as we live."

They looked around the dark, cavernous space for a few moments. Pete walked into the middle of the stage and beckoned his new husband to join him. "Come lie down with me?"

"On the stage?"

Pete nodded. "Why not? Who's gonna tell us we can't? There's nobody else around."

As they lay down beside each other, they thought of the superstars who'd been on this stage before them. They tried to name as many performers and bands that they could think of, and it slowly dawned on them that tonight, they'd joined those illustrious ranks. Slowly, they began to kiss, running their fingers through each other's hair.

"We can consume our marriage now," said Pete with a cheeky smirk. "If you want to." They were about to have their 'extra-special marriage fuck' on the stage at Madison Square Garden. Carlos grinned as he rolled over to lay on top of Pete.

In the semi-darkness, illuminated only by dim stage lights, Carlos pressed his aching crotch into his husband. "I want you so fucking bad," he breathed. He fumbled with Pete's belt buckle, eventually getting it undone. Pete lifted his ass up off the stage for a second. Carlos used the opportunity to pull Pete's pants down to his knees, which was more than enough room for him to deliver his first blowjob of their marriage. He licked Pete's balls, still sweaty from the gig, sucking one onto his tongue, then the other. He reached up to run his fingernails across Pete's chest, grazing across his hard, sensitive nipples. "Fuck," breathed Pete, "I love the way you make me feel."

Carlos licked up and down the length of Pete's shaft before running his tongue around the tip of his dick. Pete moaned, writhing; all of his senses were on fire. "You want this?" teased Carlos, placing a tender kiss on the head of his husband's achingly hard penis.

Pete reached down to run his fingers through Carlos's beautiful hair. "Yes," he replied.

Slowly, Carlos sucked the tip of Pete's throbbing dick into his mouth. He felt Pete's hands resting on the back of his head, wanting his boyfriend to swallow more of him, but Carlos was determined to take things slow. He wanted this to be an experience Pete would remember forever. His hand languidly teased and stroked Pete's cock as his tongue wrapped around of the head of his dick. Pete's head flopped helplessly backwards onto the stage beneath him; Carlos's mouth and hands felt so good he'd completely lost the ability to communicate or interact.

Carlos tickled Pete's nuts, and he heard his husband gasp at the intensely pleasurable feeling. "I love you," he whispered.

Pete lifted his head. As he looked down, he saw a pair of dark, fiery eyes, a mass of sexy black hair, a fist wrapped around his painfully erect penis, and a mouth and tongue mercilessly teasing the fuck out of him. "Carlos," he panted, "I can't ... I can't ... you're gonna make me ..."

"I know, babe," Carlos replied, impaling himself on his husband's cock. He felt it began to twitch in his mouth and throat.

Pete shuddered as his balls contracted with a violent ferocity. Volley after volley of thick, pearly semen splashed against Carlos's tonsils, soaking his mouth and tongue.

Carlos savoured the taste for a moment before swallowing. "Was that good?" he teased.

"Oh my fucking god, dude." Pete was close to speechless. His chest rose and fell as the echoes of his orgasm reverberated through his body.

Carlos lay down beside him. He draped an arm across Pete's chest and they enjoyed the silence of the room while Pete descended from the dizzying heights of the best blowjob he'd ever received in his life.

Carlos ran his fingers through his husband's beautiful Irish red hair. They lay side by side in silence, listening to each other breathe.

Pete gathered his forces, ready to return fire. He propped himself up on one elbow and tweaked one of Carlos's nipples. "My turn now," he declared.

Carlos already knew he was dead. Pete had the best technique in the world.

"Pull 'em down, buddy," Pete commanded. Carlos knew there was no point in resisting. He was already hard at the thought of what his husband, a man born without a gag reflex, was about to do to him.

Pete swallowed the entirety of Carlos's shaft in a single motion. The room was dark, but Carlos saw stars as Pete's tongue drew circles around the base of his shaft and balls. "Stop," Carlos pleaded. "Please stop."

Pete looked up surprised, wondering if he was doing anything wrong.

"I want to fuck you on the stage before we leave," Carlos explained, "but if you keep that up, you'll suck my soul out of me."

Pete grinned as intense waves of happiness washed over him. Everything was perfect. He kissed his husband, tasting echoes of his own cock in his mouth, before pulling his jeans right off. "I'm gonna leave my boots on," he stated, "but my pussy is all yours."

Carlos rolled Pete onto his stomach and began eating him out, getting his husband nice and wet. One finger went in, then two, but two was enough.

"I need to feel you inside me," Pete said. "I can't wait any longer."

Carlos flipped his husband onto his back and entered him missionary style. There was just enough light in the room for Carlos to gaze deep into Pete's eyes, and as he first entered him, he noticed his pupils dilate and his mouth gape open. His thrusts were slow and shallow. He felt Pete's hole gripping him tight, clenching around his shaft. It was so hard for him to hold back.