Eat Me, Drink MebyGrotesqueBurges©
I never decided that I wanted to be a groupie. I've just always wanted to be me. My name is Brian. I'm nineteen years old and really thin. Because I don't frequent tanning beds or the outdoor world, I am very pale. If you hold a piece of white paper up to me, it would probably blend in. My parents always told me that I should eat more and go outside because I looked frail. I never did, and I still retain that look. I'm not the strongest person, but I never strived to be. While some guys were chasing women and bulking up, I was crushing on rock stars and dressing up in girl's clothes. Yeah, that's right, I'm a bisexual cross-dressing fruit... get over it!
I like the gothic look best. It fits me well because of my build and skin type. And while on the outside I may look like a real party person, I love nothing better than reading or writing. I may look outrageous but I'm really quite quiet and shy. When my best friend Atlas got tickets to my favorite band, Marilyn Manson, however, I was thrilled. I wasn't spending that night at home reading.
I had my outfit picked out weeks ahead of time. I was going to go dressed to the nines. I bought a new thigh-cut ruffle skirt to go with my sleeved red and black striped shirt. It was quite cute, even Atlas agreed. I borrowed a pair of Atlas' clunky combat boots to go along with it. They went up to my knee. When the day came for the concert, I spiked up my black hair and used colored gel to tip the ends with red. I put on a lovely bright red lipstick and painted my eyelids a trio of vibrant colors. I'm naturally smooth, so I didn't have to worry about shaving.
As I expected, the crowd at the Manson concert was full of "freaks" and I wasn't singled out. I love being able to dress up like this without being called names. We had a pair of expensive V.I.P. tickets, so we got to jump up to the front of the line. When we got into the auditorium, our spots were close enough for me to nearly touch the stage. I was SO excited that I nearly fainted. Atlas grabbed me just as I toppled.
When the lights went out, signaling the concert's beginning, I had to grab hold of him for support. Then the stage lights started up, almost dancing around the stage. The roar of the crowd as Manson appeared was deafening. I hardly noticed the other band members take their places, because my eyes were fixed on him. The music seemed to throw itself at us, and before we knew it, we had been sucked into his world. His voice seemed to tease and caress me. I could feel the sound on my skin. I tried to focus on the songs, but kept zeroing in on the man himself. I felt time stand still, and the crowd fall away. My ears heard nothing, only my sight was in play. It was all in my imagination, I'm sure, but I felt as if he were staring at me the entire time. Having been on a stage or two in my days, I knew he probably couldn't even see the crowd due to the spotlights. I couldn't help but hope though.
The show ended way too soon for me, but we decided to stay after and try to get autographs. Our V.I.P. tickets afforded us backstage passes, and we waited patiently for him to rest a little and freshen up. I'm glad he did, as I absolutely hate sweat and body odor! It took him a long time to come out of his dressing room. So long in fact, that most of the other back-stage visitors had given up and gone home. Atlas kept asking me when we would leave, but I couldn't give up hope. I just HAD to meet him. I finally told Atlas that he could go home. Normally he would have stayed with me, but I think the concert really drained his energy. I gave him a hug and he left after telling me to call him for a ride home. I told him that I would simply get a taxi. He shrugged and went off.
Feeling uncharacteristically brave, I decided to do what nobody else had gathered the courage to do: knock on the dressing room door. I gulped as my knuckles rappt against the wood. "Come in." certainly wasn't the response I had expected, but it was the one I received.
I slowly opened the door, stepped cautiously inside, and shut it gently behind me. There was my hero, in the flesh, right before me! I saw his eyes travel over my body with interest. Then he looked into my eyes.
"Yeah?" he questioned.
I felt myself tense up and I tried to will it away. It worked, but only mildly so.
"Um... hi... uh, my name is Brian... uh, and I was wondering if I could have your autograph?"
A moment passed before he answered, "Yeah, sure. Like your name," he winked, "but not enough to keep it." I smiled politely and tip-toed over to him.
"Where would you like me to sign?" he asked, and I realized that I hadn't brought a pen or anything for him to write on. He seemed to pick up on it though, and showed me that he had a marker with him.
"Pick a body part." he told me.
I responded quickly, automatically and without thinking. "I like every one of yours." Then I heard what I said and nearly cried out in embarrassment. He looked a little shocked too, but merely smiled. I tried to make up for it by yelling out, "Arm!", but that only made me seem even more stupid. He grinned and grabbed my hand. I felt electricity go through me where he touched. He quickly scribbled on me and then did a little bow and left the room. I gathered my composure and left the building, hailing a taxi to make my way home.
In the back of the cab, I finally looked down at my arm. I expected to see a quickly jotted signature, but instead found written, "Deadwood hotel, room 27." I nearly peed myself. I anxiously redirected the cab driver and then sat back nervously.
When we arrived, I paid hurriedly, and nearly sprinted into the lobby. I found the room quite easily. I knocked and the door cracked open. Stepping inside, I smelled incense and flowers.
"Hello?" I called out.
"In here." I heard a voice say from the bedroom.
I tried to fight my trembles as I peered around the corner.
"Hey. Come sit down." he said, patting the cushion of the couch he was sitting on. I shyly joined him.
"Why me?" I asked softly.
"You're unique. I like that. I'm also tired of spending time with women who play with my emotions just to get to my cash. You seem different.... in a good way." I couldn't help but smile.
"Also," he went on, "while I may be 99% straight, you have the look that gets that 1% shaken up. I don't have the time nor the energy to romance you though. If you aren't worked up already, you should probably go."
I gasped, "Not worked up! Was he kidding!" I thought to myself. I answered his unspoken question by leaning over and pressing my lips to his. He took a second to respond, but when he did, it was wonderful. He reached his hand up and cupped my jaw while pushing his tongue between our lips. I flicked my tongue against his and he caught it between his teeth, biting down just enough to cause a flare of endorphins. I moaned against his lips, which tickled us both. He laughed huskily. That just made me moan again.
Suddenly it dawned on me that I hadn't thought to bring condoms. I might be in awe of this man, but I'm not stupid enough to think that I was his first and in no danger should I forgo the wrapper. I tried my best to verbalize the problem, which was made increasingly difficult when his lips found and assaulted the sensitive skin of my neck. I could hardly speak.
"Uh, ummmm...mmmm..... uh, forgot the, uh...." was all I could say.
He laughed that intoxicating laugh again and then whispered into my ear, "Don't worry baby, I've got everything you could possibly need."
I wasn't sure that we had been thinking of the same items, but decided that if he had EVERYTHING I might need, that would be one of them. I let myself relax and fall into his kisses. He brought his palm up and stroked my hair, curling a strand around his manicured fingers. God this man gets me so hot!
I grabbed his hand and deposited it at my thigh in indication. He smiled, mid-kiss, and pushed his fingertips under my skirt. The way he touched me made me feel high.
His head tipped and I felt him run his tongue over my collarbone. I shivered and bit his neck in approval. It was only now that I noticed the music playing in the background: a simple but thumping instrumental. It sounded a lot like his newer music, only without lyrics. I often masturbate while listening to Marilyn Manson music, so this just got my libido roaring.
I moved up off of the cushion and threw my leg over his, settling on his lap with my arms wrapped around his shoulders. I shoved my tongue into his mouth with force, trying to give a hint to the level of my arousal. He got the picture and grabbed hold of my shirt. He bit down at the top of the collar, creating a little rip, and then used his fists to tear it completely off of me, tossing it to the side. I pressed my bare chest to him and hugged him. He probably had no idea, but he was fulfilling my longtime dream. The hug was in thanks.
I wasn't about to rip open his shirt, as it surely cost a lot more than mine, but I went to work unbuttoning it. I kissed him as I pushed it off and then kissed down his smooth chest. He sighed loudly when I licked his nipple so I nibbled it gently. I think he moaned. I could feel him harden through his pants and I used it to my advantage by grinding against him.
His mouth fell open in lust. I captured it with my own. He pushed me off of him and took my hand in his, guiding me to his bed. He lifted me up by the hips and laid me down. He unfastened his pants before I could even think of helping him, and I was pleasantly surprised that he wasn't wearing underwear at all. I licked my lips as his cock came into view. Well-endowed was an understatement. I was a little nervous, as I hadn't ever taken anything that big before. He saw the fright in my eyes, and reassured me, telling me, "Don't worry. I won't hurt you, I promise."
I smiled back at him and pulled up the frills of my skirt while pushing off my thong. He surprised me by bending down and nibbling on my inner thigh. My erection was rubbing against his face, and he wrapped his hands around the base of it. I could have fainted at his touch. I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming when he pushed my legs up and licked my asshole. I had expected more of a rock star's approach to sex, you know, something more selfish. I stopped thinking clearly when his tongue pushed inside.
"Oh my god!" I exclaimed aloud.
He took a break from my ass to mutter, "Yeah, tell me I'm your god, it turns me on."
I inhaled deeply and then went off in a string of sex crazed dirty talk. "Fuck yes, you are my god, my savior! Save me! Save my soul! Redeem me!"
A lusty look spread over his face and I could tell that I had turned him on. He sprang on top of me and pinned my hands down against the mattress, grinding his cock against mine.
"I'll save you, just get on your knees and pray." he commanded, rolling off of me so that I could position myself between his knees.
Eagerly, I licked the head of his dick, lapping up the liquid that had formed at the slit. He played with my hair as I took him deep into my mouth. His hand clenched when his cock bumped against the back of my throat. He whimpered a little when I pulled off.
"I want you to show me your power, leave me in awe." I begged him. Instantly, he pulled me up from my knees and onto the bed, getting off to grab some condoms and lube from the nightstand, and then joined me.
"This is probably a stupid question," he began, "but, have you done this before?"
I nodded, adding, "Twice before... with my best friend Atlas." "Oh, okay. If I go too fast or hurt you, please tell me."
I nodded again. He squirted a few drops of lube on my bare belly and dipped his finger in it. I giggled at the sudden coldness. I felt his finger slip up and down my crack and then rub in little circles at my entrance. I sighed expectantly. I couldn't restrain a groan as he pushed inside.
"Uh! Fuck yeah!" I exclaimed.
I was acting like a dog in heat, but I couldn't help it. I was pushing back against his finger, trying to take in his whole hand. He added another digit and started pumping my dick with his other hand while he assaulted my prostate. I was so close to coming, but was trying not to. I didn't want it to end like that.
"Fuck me now!" I screamed at him.
He growled, maneuvered atop me, and plunged into my depths with one thrust. I felt like I was splitting, even though he had prepared me. I held on to his shoulders to keep him still while I adjusted. His eyes were glossy and he was panting.
"Jesus, you are so fucking tight! You feel so good!" he praised.
I scratched his shoulders to signal to him he could move. It didn't take long before he was sinking deep into me and pulling out to the head, just to dive back in. Every thrust was making me see sparkles. It was truly a religious experience.
I pushed him off of me and rolled onto my stomach. He grabbed my hips and pushed back inside me almost immediately. Just when I thought that it couldn't get any better, his fist enclosed around my cock and started jacking me. My arms gave out and my head hit the pillow. I heard screaming and realized it was mine.
"Fuck it! Fuck my cock you little slut!" he yelled at me.
My clouded mind went dark as his words sent me over the edge. I exploded in his hand. I expected him to pull away, but he milked me dry. I collapsed, and he bent more so he could keep fucking me as I sagged upon the bed.
He wrapped his hands around my wrists and pulled my arms behind my back, yelling out obscenities. "I'm coming, I'm coming, oh fuck...!" he yelled out.
I thought my arms would break with how far back he was pulling them, but it somehow still felt good, really good. He stayed buried within me for a few minutes after he came. Eventually he went fully soft and pulled out. He curled up next to me and pulled me close while stroking my hair.
After a while, he spoke, "You know, you can stay the night. It would be nice... to have someone to sleep next to."
I was surprised by his showing of such emotion, but I admitted, to sleep next to him would be a dream come true. I snuggled close and held his hand.
Before we fell asleep, I whispered to him, "You're a great god. I'd worship you any day." He laughed softly and held me tighter.