Ashley turned off her faucet, pulled back her hair, and slowly slipped her naked body into the steaming hot water she had just drawn. Releasing a breath, she leaned back and closed her eyes. It had been a hot day, but still nothing refreshed her more, oddly enough, than a hot bath. Classes were over the summer, but she had spent all day working. Ashley was the smallest waitress on staff at the Texas Ranch Restaurant, and probably was so because she hated all the food they served. She was rather short and fairly thin, her blonde hair straight and silky, reaching her back when it was down. Although Ashley was beautiful and had nearly infinite romantic options, she had always been in love with the lead guitarist and lead singer of Ravage. It had been her favorite band since they first started making music two years ago, and she had seen them in concert once before they became very popular. Tonight Ravage was having a concert about half an hour from her house, and she had great tickets. Ever since the first time she'd first heard Dane's voice on the radio she'd fantasized about sleeping with him. This time, this concert, tonight, she was determined. Ashley was young, only nineteen, but she certainly wasn't a virgin. She'd moved out of the house on her eighteenth birthday, so she had certain personal freedoms not characteristic to girls attending local college. Even though Ashley was far from pure, she wasn't a slut either. She was choosy about whom she allowed to take her to bed.
Reopening her eyes, she lathered one lightly tanned leg and rolled a razor gently across it, making it silky smooth. The lilac-scented lather graced her other leg as well, and all the space in between. After making herself perfectly smooth she smiled and tried to imagine Dane's hands on her. Placing her hands on her breasts, she closed her eyes again and squeezed gently, then rolled her hands down her smooth tummy and parted her labia with a finger, rubbing over her clitoris gently. She took care washing the rest of her slim form, and then dried herself with a thick, white towel. Having not masturbated to the point of orgasm, she was still almost painfully aroused, but she wanted to save it until after the show, for Dane. She rubbed moisturizer into her skin so that it would retain its silky feel, and brushed and dried her hair straight. Thoughtfully, she went to her drawer and gazed at her selection of thongs. She decided she didn't have a statement to make and that a black satin one would be simultaneously simple and sexy, and she put on a strapless bra to match. She admired her form a moment and then sought out her black tube top and red miniskirt with black pinstripes. She didn't put on any nylons, and completed her look with a silver rhinestone necklace that spelled out her name and a pair of black flip-flops. She never wore makeup---her complexion, much like her facial features, had always been attractive. Nodding with approval, she picked up her car keys and headed out.
***
Lighting a cigarette, he leaned out his hotel window balcony to look at the people walking below. Inhaling the sweet nicotine, he thought about the show tonight. It was going to be just like all the others---they'd gone over al the set lists, all the jokes. The booze, he was certain, was waiting on a cart somewhere downstairs, ready to be brought up as soon as he left to perform. And this was a decent community—it had a college, which meant plenty of hot girls. His band mates usually took more than one, but call him a softie—he liked to pick the girls who really wanted him, and not really the ones who just wanted to say they'd slept with a big rock star. He liked to be with them one on one. Certainly, he didn't have enough regard for their emotions to keep them around, but he liked to talk to them—hear their stupid dreams. It was an addiction of sorts, just likes the booze and the cigarettes and the high from singing into a football field dense with people. He turned his eyes from the street below to the ash gathering on the cigarette in his hand. After dumping the ash, he took another thoughtful drag and then stamped it out on the concrete. Re-entering his room, he pulled on a black wife beater, a white button up top which he didn't bother to button, and a pair of jeans, baggy but not sagging. He belted them, placed his feet in a pair of ankle height combat boots, and combed at his longish brown hair, satisfied with his appearance. He was a hard partier, but he didn't have years behind him to make him old. Time to get in the limousine, he thought, as he made for the door.
***
As soon as the first guitar chords reached her ears, Ashley felt like she was on a spectacular high. She was right up front, she could clearly see the way Dane's eyes moved. She was convinced they fell on her once or twice—if anything, she thought, she was the picture of suburban beauty. Maybe her job would be too hard. She chanted the lyrics softer then the other fans, in a graceful sort of way that was reverent, worshipping of the figure on the stage above. He was invincible. The words of his songs were so wise, so melodic. He was perfect. Every second she looked at him she became more convinced of her need to be with him that night. She connected with him so much. Her panties were practically soaked beneath her little skirt that hugged her slim hips. There was a light amount of perspiration on her forehead because so many people were around, but by the time the sun had been set for an hour or so, she was cool in the tube top, but no less heated beneath her skirt.
The magic of the show ended and the masses began to herd out. Ashley and a few suburban mothers with teenage daughters and a couple other more sleazy-looking women made their way to the bus and limousine that had transported the band. They all waited, the sleazes chattering together about other stars they'd fucked and the mothers talking about how well the voice lessons were going for their daughters. Ashley kept to herself, near the front of the crowd, but far to the side. She would be the last person Dane was sure to see when he came out. She held the inner booklet of a Ravage CD to her chest and waited in silence.
***
Through the tinted windows of the bus, Dane and his band mates surveyed the crowd. The drummer and bassist were bantering back and forth about the women who looked like good screws. Both had been interested in one girl close to the front. They said she was the most angelic thing they'd ever seen and her body was hot as hell. The problem was that they couldn't figure out whether she was there as a groupie or if she was an innocent teen. They didn't really want to ask if she wanted to come back with them, even though they both agreed they'd love to fuck her. This perked Dane's ears and he went to the window to have a look. He was slightly sweaty from the show, and he had a hard on from the rush and the adrenaline, but he was surprised to feel it seem to strain against his pants when he caught sight of the blonde in the tube top his friends had been talking about. He downed the last of the water he had been drinking to cool off and inhaled, not saying a word, chuckling a bit as the drummer asked his opinions on the girls he had planned to pick up.
"You guys ready? We'll get the autographs over in no more than fifteen minutes, and all the moms will leave with their teens, then you guys can get whoever you want."
They all nodded and Dane was the first to descend the steps of the bus, and the small crowd squealed as a whole with joy. He smiled his superstar smile and began signing CD cases, cleavage, bras, autograph books, and ticket stubs. Finally, he'd made it down the line to the blonde he'd seen from inside the bus in the miniskirt. He smiled at her, and asked her to whom he was to address the autograph as he took the CD case from her nervous hands. As he signed "To Ashley—Dane Ravage," he cut his eyes up at the girl who was looking at him expectantly. He licked his lips, noticing the crowd had dispersed, and made a point to check out some of the groupies behind her who were all staring at him, despite the advances of the bassist and the drummer.
"You better go home now, girl, or they'll get the wrong idea."
He handed her the CD case with a somewhat sad smile. He was testing her. He never asked a girl to come back with him. Even the ones who didn't want to sleep with any rock star had to beg for it. Deciding she was pretty uptight, he started to turn, but to his slight surprise she spoke.
"With all due respect, I think you might have the wrong idea."
Her voice was almost a whisper, but the only noises were coming from the girls trying to get with his band mates, deciding that Dane was somewhat of a lost cause, talking to an innocent-looking blonde. They hadn't given up for sure, but they wanted to make sure they all had an in with at least one band member. Dane turned back to face the girl he now knew as Ashley and raised his brows, but made no verbal response.
"I've wanted to spend the night with you ever since I heard 'Spirit Flies' on the radio. If you let me sleep with you, I promise you won't regret it. I may not party as hard as those girls do all the time, but I know how."
Her voice was no longer timorous, but rather extremely soft and reverent, as if she were speaking to God himself. Dane smiled a little, more overwhelmed by her quiet respect than he would be if she begged and screamed and wailed for the privilege of being his little slut for the night. He nodded a little and then looked at the guard, then snapped his neck to one side, telling the both of them that she was to come from behind the chain and join him. Ashley eagerly completed this and stood beside Dane. As his arm snaked around her waist and he rushed her to the limo to avoid onslaught by the jealous groupies screaming claims about how they could do a better job than that little virgin, Ashley thought she might faint. It was actually going to happen. She was really going to get to sleep with Dane. He was just as perfect as she'd imagined, even so close without all the photo manipulation. As soon as he got in his personal limo with Ashley, Dane lit a cigarette and nodded for the driver to take them to the hotel. It was late now. Midnight, perhaps. He offered Ashley a cigarette, but had anticipated her decline. He released the smoke in a smooth stream off the side and further inspected the creature who he was going to put on his king sized bed and fuck until she cried. Offering her a more authentic smile, he began speaking.
"So you've been a fan for awhile, huh?"
As he took another drag he put his arm around her and drew her closer to him, and then he reached around her slim waist to stroke her thigh.
