I don't know what made me go to this particular show; it was actually my friend Pam that dragged me to a Constantine show this particular night. Truth be told, Pam wasn't there to see him, but some guy in his back up band she had the hots for.
Mind you, she is a gorgeous blond and could have gotten any one of those guys; I on the other hand, even though I have been told I look at least a decade younger than my age, I was shorter and a little more full figured (especially in the breasts and hips), and had short red hair.
Nevertheless, I was glad I had dressed so I could blend in with the crowd (at least that had been the initial idea), in a pink silk blouse, complete with matching pink nail polish, jeans ripped at the knees and platform sandals. I thought I was cool until I'd seen everyone else in things much more racier.
The show was amazingly good, even if a lot of the women did go nuts pressing against the stage. Constantine had on this wild outfit of a black shirt, white jacket, and black pants with a zipper going halfway down to his thigh.
Damn, I had never seen anything like them before, nor have I since. I know a lot of girls that attended that night were certainly dreaming of that zipper and what was underneath it. In spite of myself, I was also fascinated....especially with the bulge that was encased in that zipper.
Pam had then dragged me back to meet her crush once the show had ended and lo and behold, there was also the star himself.
He seemed kind of bored-looking meeting some of the people in front of me, animated with others--as if he knew them--and once the other fans had gone and when it came Pam's turn, he'd given her a clap on the shoulder before giving her a bear hug.
I poked her in the ribs. "You didn't tell me you knew this guy!" I whispered.
"Yeah, I met him at the Roxy earlier this year," she explained, then turned and introduced me.
"How do you do, Anne? You're from back East, right?"
I looked over at Pam again; how the hell did he know where I was from?
"Uh, yes..." was all I managed to get out.
"Well, your and my friend here didn't say what a pretty girl you were."
I felt myself blush. This guy that went around with models and starlets calling me pretty? Was he drunk or something?
I guess he wasn't; I thought then perhaps he was being polite because of my affiliation with Pam. Boy, would I find out differently later!
Our conversation carried on late, with me learning a little more about him along the way.
Meanwhile, I could not believe that this guy, even at thirty, didn't have a girlfriend or three.
Everyone knows how irresistible musicians are, and this guy could have turned on any woman without saying a word or singing a note.
And there were those amazing pants he still had on from the show. I found myself eyeing that zipper once more, making sure he didn't catch me doing it in the meantime.
"Not that I've broken any mirrors and scared children or anything, but...don't you have some hot chicks or some sexy model you'd be with?" I asked.
I figured instead of yapping to the likes of me, he would either be getting laid or a good blow job from one of those willing groupies by now.
He quickly responded "Fuck that. I'd rather have a nice girl like you chatting me up than some slut that's out for 'one thing' trying to pick me up."
I gave him a look that stated that I may have been born at night, but not last night. "Oh is that so?" I asked.
"Yeah. So you married?"
"No. I never have been. I'm not exactly a man magnet," I laughed.
"Could have fooled me. You're not only pretty, but you seem intelligent and humorous. Don't underestimate yourself."
I was flattered that someone like Constantine would be interested in talking to me, because he could certainly have his pick of the litter, supermodels and starlets included.
We talked about everything until the crowd began to thin out.
The majority of people, having found their one-nighters and his other band members finding their "random sluts" for the evening, headed towards the door. Pam and her drummer had gone hours before.
He grinned. "Do me a favor, Anne. I'll be just a few more minutes if you want to wait for a bit, I'll be back as soon as I'm done. Public relations, you know?"
"Yeah, I know," I grinned knowingly. "I'm in that business, remember?"
He laughed. "Riggght. Stay put."
I laughed back in response and sat down on a barstool with my drink. I understood all too well about the importance of talking to fans after a show; they did pay the bills by buying the products and coming to the shows.
I settled in my seat as I watched a bevy of young beauties trip over each other as they tried to get his attention.
After about five minutes, Constantine thanked the last fan, and turned and walked back towards me.
Taking my hand, he pulled me up and gave me another hug. "Come on," he said, pulling me upstairs to where the band's dressing room had been that night.
The whole time, all I could think about was being alone with him...and getting inside that zipper....sucking his cock...and--I stopped myself.
My God, Anne, you have nephews older than this guy and you're thinking about sucking his dick? He might not even see you "that way" after all those sexy chicks downstairs earlier.
The club owner poked his head into the room. "Great show tonight! I'll be downstairs for a while, cleaning up."
Constantine thanked him, and the guy left, closing the door behind him.
We were now alone. I shifted a bit nervously on the couch, hoping not to make an ass of myself. Suddenly, I was dying to pull down that long zipper.... but had to restrain myself.
He then reached in the little fridge that was in the corner and grabbed two bottles of Coke. He popped the cap off of one and handed it to me, sitting down on the couch beside me.
Again, he gave me an appreciative once-over, grinning at me. "Shit, you're even cuter than Pam described you."
I smiled at him, blushing, took a sip of my soda and replied, laughing, "Nice try, Greekboy Suave. You're much cuter."
Oh God, Anne, you sounded like an ass, I thought. But I guess it must have worked somehow.
He responded by setting his soda down on the end table, pulling off his jacket, and grabbing me, pulling me onto his lap, chuckling. "Come here, baby."
I wound up straddling him. He laughed, and looked deep into my eyes as he leaned in to kiss me. I shivered as our lips touched for the first time.
His mouth was amazingly sensual and his lips were soft. We kissed gently for a bit, then he coaxed my lips open slightly with his, then his tongue slowly slid against mine as he explored my mouth..
I slid the tip of my tongue across his lower lip. He groaned, and quickly captured my tongue in his mouth, sucking upon it insistently as I ground my lower body against his lap, feeling his cock stiffen in those amazing pants.
He grabbed my ass and pulled me harder against him, our kisses becoming more and more passionate until we tore away from each other, breathless and grinning.
"Damn, woman...I guess you do just look innocent, " he smiled at me, bringing his hands around and encircling my waist. "But you're certainly anything but!"
"Damn straight," I teased. "I've been around the block longer than you have, mister."
I couldn't wait a moment longer.. I pulled his shirt off, running my hands down his back and across his chest, and in turn, he practically tore my shirt off, flinging it into the corner. As he now lay on top of me, I gasped as I felt the contact of his hot bare skin against my flesh.
He wrapped his arms around me, kissing his way down my neck. His tongue slid across my throat, tracing soft, wet patterns across my skin.
"Mmm.......yes...." I murmured, relishing the feeling of his pouty lips against my skin. "Don't stop now."
His hot tongue was now licking slowly down my chest. I arched my back up as he reached under me, unhooking my bra with one hand.
"God, what fucking incredible tits...and the real thing to boot."
I giggled a little. "Yeah, no plastic here, stud."
