The Musician

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Detached Musician chooses younger fan to fuck.
2.7k words
4.19
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Hi there! Thanks for clicking on my story. This one is rather short.

Some of the sexual themes I hit on are: cheating, non-monogamy, creampie, younger with older, power imbalance (maybe?)

All characters in the story are over the age of eighteen.

Summary: Detached Musician calls on a fan to sleep with him. Will the night be what either of them need?

*****

The final note rings like a specter. The death knell of a perfect night. Not for me. For all those in the audience. For me it's a night like any other. The speakers are too loud and the concert goers too rowdy. I'm certain Chuck got into a brawl with some idiot in the back.

None of that matters because in front of me is a pretty young thing in a red shirt. We lock eyes. She smiles. You never have to tell a man to smile back to a pretty girl. He'll do it without a thought.

There's a look in her eye. I recognize it, because I've seen it before. Perhaps a hundred times. It's a look of recognition. Of grandeur.

She lifts her shirt and I get a look at her chest. It's nice. Small. She's fairly boyish. Not much of hips on her... But what's there is enough.

The look, the smile, the flash, it is all a message to let me know one thing.

She's available.

I wave to the audience, blow them a kiss, each movement makes them cheer. They love me. Are unable to resist the allure that is my music.

On the way backstage I tap Chuck.

"Girl in the red top, first row. She flashed me. Can you find her?"

He nods.

Walking backstage isn't all that different from the scene up front. People are here, cheering for me. It's a meet and greet. These people, they want to be me. There is an electric energy that accompanies celebrity. One that you can't escape.

If you find the right demographic the energy of celebrity can get you laid all you want.

It becomes as easy as breathing. The trouble is building up the fanbase. The other trouble is making the fan base attractive—keeping it that way.

Late at night, when I listen to music, I am reminded of a lyric:

My band played here, a lot in the nineties

when we had, lots of female fans

and fuck they all were cute

now I just sign posters, for guys in tennis shoes

The audience ages and so do I. I'll miss the younger crowd. There's nothing quite like meeting the eyes of those innocent girls. Thirsty for affection. The knowledge that for one night they were the sexiest thing in my line of sight.

The meet and greet goes about as well as it could. You talk to the fans. You thank them. If they give you advice, you say, Man. I'd never thought of it like that. That's brilliant.

There is a practiced detachment. Performative caring is exhausting night after night. Person after person, conversations seem to echo forward and back.

My eyes are saying that this fan is the most important person in the room. I'll look them in the eyes, I'll shake their hands, our eyes will meet. They'll go on and rave about how amazing I am. They'll have paid for the privilege... But I am not there.

My mind is drifting towards the girl with the redshirt. Her small tits and my tongue on them.

I can envision Chuck pulling her aside. The conversation is as easy as playing in C major.

"Want to meet Rodrick Close?"

She'd hesitate. How would she know it's legit?

Chuck would show her a picture of us together. A video of me doing shots. Some dumb shit. She would eventually agree and she'd be in the car on the way to my hotel room.

My mind shifts back when I notice this fan has got wet hands. The fuck? Did he piss on them? Why am I still smiling? He hasn't let go. How much longer will we shake hands for? Fuck.

The moist hands bring me back to reality. The deception drops for just a moment. I reign it back and smile at him.

Man, you must be nervous.

He says, I sure am!

Mother fucker.

I wave goodbye to the meet and greet crowd. I promise them I'll be back soon. The promise I've made hundreds of times.

Unless they live in LA, probably won't be.

Chuck opens the door for me.

Before he closes it, "Did you get her?"

A smile. "She's waiting for you."

"Thanks Chuck."

The detachment starts to lift. It's the last mile that's the most exciting. Never does lose its charm.

There is one hesitation. I'm married. It's not a thing I try to hide. I post it in plain sight. On my social media, I refer to her as my wife. Somehow this never bothers the girls. The Fans. I bring it up. Sometimes they do that themselves.

A girl once asked me, "How does your cunt wife feel about you fucking my pussy?"

She was aggressive, but damn if I didn't love that.

I'd met her in Chicago.

Damn they all were cute.

I never asked my wife, but I know she wouldn't be a fan.

I met the girl several times after that. No moment was quite like our first, but damn if they didn't' get close.

When she had my cum all over her face and she begged me to send a picture to my wife.

I took the picture and sent it to Chuck.

He got a laugh out of that.

I put my keycard into the door handle.

There she was. A nervous little girl.

She jumped at the sight of me. She just stood there. Trying to decide if she should approach me. Or would that be too forward?

I walked past her, put my jacket on the chair besides the window.

I took the room in for the first time. It was average size. Only one bed, green sheets. Queen size, I think. The wallpaper was a yellow aberration.

I've travelled enough that I don't see it anymore.

She turned towards me. I got a better look at her. My initial assessment of her had been correct. She had brown eyes, black hair. A small, boyish, figure. Her curves were imperceptible, but they existed. I didn't mind that. Somehow, that was a part of the attraction.

I asked her, "Did you enjoy the show?"

"What?" She let out a desperate gasp. She had been holding her breath.

I smiled. Pulled my shirt off.

Her eyes looked me up and down. Taking their time along my chest.

Her foot attempted to move forward, but she quickly placed it back down.

I undid my belt buckle, but kept my pants on. Her eyes met mine. I smiled. She smiled, a weak one.

"Are you just going to stand there?" She didn't react. "Please—remember to breathe."

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thanks."

"Is this what you thought it would be?" She didn't respond. "How could I make it better?"

She stuttered. "You want to make it better?"

I nod, then lay my head back, staring at the ceiling fan. The mattress beneath me isn't comfortable, but if I didn't think about it... The uncomfortable feeling started to fade. I'd occasionally look at the girl. She was still just standing at the edge of my bed.

She was definitely beautiful. Her red shirt was tight against her skin, along with her white pants, and a blue bracelet on her right hand.

I crossed my hands over my chest.

"Lay with me."

This was the first concrete move she had made. Her body thudded next to me. She still wasn't touching me. She just laid there like a stick. She besides me, but not with me.

I reached my hand down to hers. I touch my fingers along the exterior of her hands. Exploring her smooth, moisturized skin. There's always something about a woman. The softness that seems to be perpetual. A clear sign that she cared for herself. The wafting of her shampoo and perfume. The experience of being with an attractive woman is always intoxicating.

I took hold of her hand. She gasped. We laid there for another hour. Not a word spoken between us.

I do wonder what she thought about. How close did the experience match up with her imagination?

She turned over and placed a hand on my chest. It was the first sign that she was here.

She ran her finger up and down my chest. I felt electricity. The kind that only a woman can provide.

We made eye contact. She put weight on her elbow. Her face hovered above mine. She leaned in close... And kissed me.

Softly.

There's an expression I think of in moments like this. Killing them softly. That's what that moment felt like. We had built into it by the hour and the finalization of it... Was breathtaking.

We kiss and then we do it again. She bites my lip as we kiss. I reach for her face and hold my hand against it.

Was this the moment she had imagined?

I kiss her, "I want you to blow me."

She has a half hearted smile, runs her hand down my chest and to my stomach. She looks at my unbuckled pants like a foreign body.

She grasps the top of my pants and pulls them down. I lift my torso and help kick my pants off.

I edge towards the end of the bed. She gets on her knees, pulls my underwear off, and grips the base of my cock.

It's been growing since we kissed. There is eroticism in the long wait. The time that comes before a kiss... Follow it... Then the time before the first blowjob.

She grasps it and her small hands make it look bigger. Her eyes do the same.

"Have you ever done this before?"

"—Yes!" She says defensively. "I have."

"What are you waiting for?"

She surrounds my cock with her cute little mouth. The warmth fills me with a pleasure. I grab the back of her head lightly. I don't want to overwhelm her.

She bobs her head up and down. I couldn't help but think of my wife. The oath that I had made to her. It doesn't matter at a time like that, does it?"

"You're better at this than my wife."

Why did I say that?

She paused with my dick in her mouth.

"You didn't know that?"

She said no with her eyes."

"Now you do."

I grabbed the back of her head and plunged her on my cock, until I heard her gag.

Despite this new information she continued. It even felt like she was acting with renewed vigor. It had become too late to reverse her decision... But if she was going to do it... She may as well get the accolade of, "Better than his wife."

She continued admirably. I stopped her when I felt that feeling in my stomach. the one that signals I'm close to the end.

"Strip for me."

She wiped her mouth, pulled away.

I grabbed the base of my cock and gently stroked myself. Her spit lubricated my cock and stained my hands.

She turned and started dancing, awkwardly. Knowing that she had never done this before. Is what made it better than any other hookup in recent memory.

She pushed her ass back. I grabbed her waist and pulled her ass against my cock.

She danced. The friction felt good. I pushed back against her. She turns her head and kisses me.

I grabbed at the top of her pants and gently pulled down on them. She complies and unbuttons. They slid off and I got a look at her pink panties. Her tight little ass. I slapped it and watched her skin jiggle. She pushed back against me.

Her confidence had been growing. She turned back towards me and lifted her shirt over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra. Not that it would have mattered. Her tits were hardly there. She looked worried. Like this would be the point I would lose interest..

I leaned forward and sucked her nipples. Waiting for them to grow against the feeling of my tongue. She moaned. Tried to smother her body against mine.

I stood up and bent her over the bed. I grabbed my cock and rubbed it against her ass. I watched it bounce as my cock impacted upon it.

Her thin pink panties were the only thing separating her pussy from my cock. I kept them on. I spread her legs and rubbed my cock up against the fabric of her panties.

I was moaning at each movement and becoming ever more desperate to be inside of her. It was the tease that would make the fuck so much more worth it.

I aimed my cock, and moved her panties aside. My cock moved forward and slowly split her pussy lips. The pure sensation of sex overcame me.

I felt my pulse quicken. My dick became harder. I grabbed her body more harshly.

Her needs had begun to vanish. I could only think about one thing. Fucking her pussy.

The back and forth movement was ecstasy. The few moments of coherency came through and I could hear her moaning too. She was yelling my name.

I was telling her to yell louder. I wanted her to scream so loud that security asked us to quiet down.

I'm a performer. I had put on a show for her. Now she was putting one on for me. It was the inversion. The way of control. The means by which I was given something in return.

I slapped her ass until it had turned pink.

I stopped moments before cuming. She tried to keep moving but I harshly grabbed her. I didn't want our session to end any sooner than it had to.

I turned her over. Kissed her and inserted myself back into her pussy.

She wrapped her legs around me and started kissing my neck.

"Fuck me Rodrick! Fuck me harder!"

I didn't need the invitation, but it was appreciated.

The feeling of closeness grew with each thrust. She moaned with each push. Kissed me when she could. Dug her nails into me when she felt good.

The sensory overload became everything. it became the moment. Ot was the moment.

I felt I was coming over the hill.

"Where should I cum?"

"Do you cum inside of your wife?"

"No. We don't want kids."

"Cum inside of me."

"Are you—"

She interrupted me with a kiss.

Without waiting for a response, I pushed my cock inside of her. As far as I could possibly push. My legs locked inside of her. Our lips locked. My cum shot out in successive bursts.

I felt my body go slack on top of her.

She kissed my cheeks softly.

I let myself rest. Stayed in the moment.

I kissed her.

"Thank you."

She didn't respond. I rolled off of her. Walked to the bathroom and turned the shower on.

I called out, "Come in here."

She appeared moments later. I opened the shower door for her. She hopped in front of me. The warm water rained down on her. I wrapped my arms around her and washed with soap.

She did the same for me. She cleaned my chest. Stomach. Cock.

It started to get hard. She seemed willing to suck me off one more time but I told her it was okay.

I didn't need that. Not today. We had enough fun in the bedroom.

We dried off and hopped back into the bed naked.

She wrapped her leg around me.

We laid like that for the night.

In the morning she got dressed and said she had to go. I opened the door for her.

I smiled and leaned down to kiss. She wrapped her arms around me. I wrapped my arms around her.

We shared a final moment and she walked out the door.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss her.

I miss every girl I spend the night with.

*****

Thank you for reading this. Any comments or feedback would be greatly appreciated. If you felt the story is worth a rating, please do that as well.

I am planning to post shorts on a regular basis (at least once a week). This will be to supplement the time between my more focused stories.

Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
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3 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 3 years ago
WANTABE

A good wantabe story. A story most men should appreciate. Oh, to have them falling all over a man's body. Giving it away free.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 4 years ago
Wait a minute

Did I just cum to a löded diper fanfic

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 4 years ago
Amazing

This was so realistic, unpretentious, truly a gem among the many simplistic caricatures found on this platform. This story doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not, and that allows it to truly thrive

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