I Married A Groupie

# I Married the Groupie

Author's note: All over the age of consent.

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It was good to be back in Blightie after four months in the States. The reunion tour had gone down a storm and it had been a blast to get the gang back together again. It was almost the same as the old days; the girls, the drink, the drugs. Only now with bigger stadiums and the addition of popping knees, Cialis by the cart-load, and the occasional call from home updating us about which of our various brats were being suspended from school

When I got back from the airport I went straight home. I had dinner with my wife then got ready to go to bed.

When I got there she was on the bed, lying on her back, wearing nothing more than silk stockings, suspenders, and a filthy expression. She was playing with her tits and pulling her nipples. She was a gorgeous, plump, black-haired Goddess and she was feeling nostalgic.

"Do you remember," she said to me as I walked in the door and started stripping off, "that dumb teenage virgin you stuck your cock in twenty years ago?"

I remembered her perfectly.

"You were doing a gig in Brighton. You asked that woman that worked for you---"

"---Susan. She still works for us."

"You asked Susan to let a bit of fun through into your dressing room after the show. She let three girls through.

"You fucked the Goth looking one and you had the older one with the wedding ring go down on the dumb teenage one.

"But the Goth looking one was boring you whereas the dumb teenage one looked so innocent and fuckable.

"So you came over and you told the married one to go down on the Goth instead and then you ignored them, and you came to the side of the sofa and pulled the girl's head over the arm rest and you stuck your cock down her throat."

"It fit like a glove," I said, running a hand down her ribs to her soft stomach.

"Liar. You practically had to force it in. She'd only had boys her age up to then, and they weren't half the size, and they didn't know how to take control of a girl." She got one hand up to her mouth and started sucking on a finger, not breaking my eye contact.

"And then after you'd reshaped her throat around your cock you pulled it out and twisted her around on the sofa so she was lying flat on her back and you stuck your cock in her and took her cherry. Just like that, before she knew it."

"And she took it like a champ."

"I'm pretty sure she cried out in pain."

"*Then* she took it like a champ."

"And then after you'd remoulded her cunt to your cock too, for like ten minutes, and she climaxed on your cock so hard she almost blacked out, you dumped your come in her.

"And then you got called out for some after party and she and the other two girls just got their clothes and left. And that was that."

"Its one of the great romances," I said, climbing up onto the bed and pushing her legs apart.

"You were off touring America with the boys a week later."

"Until---" I said, running my cock up and down against her well moistened cunt. She always loved a good story, telling it or hearing it.

"Until you came back from America five months later and you were doing another gig in Brighton."

"And I saw that same girl in the crowd, right at the front..."

"And you thought she looked cute, kind of glowing..."

"I thought she looked pretty as hell, anyway..."

"And you came off between songs and told Susan to go get her..."

"And after the gig was done I went back to my dressing room..."

"And there she was, standing in your dressing room. Looking just as young and just as dumb. Your teenage virgin."

"Not such a virgin any more."

"She was in white lace up sandals and a red mini-skirt and a red crop top."

"And I could see her bump."

"Your son."

"Our son."

I bent down and kissed her.

She held my face and said, "Am I still your favourite you've ever had?"

"Of course my love."

"Even more than those sluts on the tour?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, my love."

She kissed me again then tried to slap me, but I caught her hand and pressed it down to the sheets, pinning it there.

She looked deep into my eyes. "Its been twenty years since you knocked me up. You moulded me. I was just a girl and you were a man. You shaped me."

I reached down with my free hand and lined myself up. "I know."

"You still shape me," she said, as she felt the head of my cock press into her.

"I know."

"I want to give you another son," she whispered as I started to fuck her.

"Good. Because that's exactly what I came back to do."

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This is a piece of 60 minute flash fiction, meaning I come up with the concept the same day, then give myself one hour to write and edit it. Let me know whether you liked it in the comments. Thank you. Mogrem.