Begging For A Concert

The last customers of the day were waiting to get served.

Terry stood behind his register, fingers slipping nervously as he tried to keep up with the demand. Next to him, Keira worked fast and elegantly, her shiny bob whipping around each time she turned to grab the burgers and drinks. It was how she always operated, by staying nice and relaxed. The slender brown fingers would grab the tray and hand it over to the meanest customer, beaming. "Thank you for coming today, sir."

The way her back arched down her big booty was irresistible. Every time she turned to grab something, other guys in line or sitting at the tables ogled her with the same thirst Terry did.

"Hey!" The next person in line was scowling at him. "How much longer am I going to have to wait here for?"

As Keira finished with her line, she glanced over and said, "Please, come over to me as well."

Four out of the six went over to her, yet by the time she was done with them Terry still struggled to finish off his last order. The middle-aged woman in front of him drummed her fingers over the counter impatiently. Keira took note and came over, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Why don't you let me take over, hun? You've had enough for one day."

It was humiliating that inexperienced personnel with less than a month under their belt were outdoing him after almost three years on the job. Not only was he not improving, but Terry felt that the added anxiety of wanting to outperform them got him doing worse over time.

The warmth of Keira's hand passed through him like a panacea. "T-Thanks," he stammered, stepping away from the counter.

Keira finished the last order, refilled the drink of some kid, then glanced over at the door to make sure the sign said it was closed. "Stressful day, am I right?"

God, but she was so beautiful. The geometric bob framed a gently-sloped face with glossy full lips and enough eyeshadow that the only visible thing with her eyes was the reflected light. Keira considered herself a goth and looked the part out of uniform. To think that people judged her ugly because of that, or because of her dark skin... what savages.

"I'm glad this day is over," he whispered.

Keira giggled in agreement and checked her phone, the long black nails tapping audibly against the screen. "Damn. That concert's about to start soon. What a shame."

"Concert?"

"Oh, the The Long March is performing. Didn't you hear?"

Truth be told, Terry knew nothing about modern music, and he definitely never heard of any band by that name. Not that his ignorance meant anything. The only music he knew intimately was the boomer stuff his father always forced him to hear and stuff from JRPGs. "I guess not."

A beringed fist teasingly punched his shoulder. "You should totally go!"

The gemstones in the rings actually hurt him, though Terry tried not to show it. "Are you going?"

Keira sipped some coke, then brought a hand up to her mouth to cover up a tiny burp. She shook her head. "I can't afford it right now."

"How much is it?"

"I guess like seventeen?"

"That's not that much."

"Nope, but I'm broke until my next paycheck. Oh well."

What an opportunity this was! Terry desperately wished he could give it to her. Hell, he would've paid for the both of them. Sadly, he was never given any money of his own, since his father believed his son deserved none so long as he lived under his roof and worked at the fast food dump that was supposed to be his inheritance. Any purchase required the old man's permission.

"Have you tried asking my dad to pay you in advance?"

Keira made a face. "Oh no! I'd never do that."

"Come on! Why not? I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"It's just weird to ask for cash this early. I just started! What would he think of me?"

"Let me go talk to him," Terry offered. "Okay?" He could see that customers were starting to vacate. Only that middle-aged woman was left, hounding down the last of her fries. He needed to make it quick.

Keira blushed and smiled warmly, dimples forming in her cheeks. "Okay, you win. Try. Thank you so much."

The old man sat at the desk of his windowless back room doing some paperwork, beads of sweat shining bright as they slowly coursed down his balding head. "What do you want?" The pencil made a harsh scratch over the paper.

Terry explained the situation, trying to make the case as best as possible that Keira deserved a favor. As he spoke, his father lifted his head and pursed his lips. "You're saying you want to go with her?"

The other employees knocked on the door in passing and announced their departure for the night. His father pushed himself away from the desk and rose with a labored groan. The sweat-stained shirt stretched over his rolls of fat as he lumbered out of the room and made his way to the front. Terry followed after him in a doglike fashion, too afraid to ask what he meant to do.

The greasy old fucker got in front of Keira. "My son tells me you want to see a concert tonight."

Confronted in this way, Keira gulped nervously and let out a little giggle. "Oh, I mean... It's not a big deal, boss..." She glanced over at Terry, struggling to find the words. "I just..."

The old man held up a silencing palm. He pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and went through it. Both Terry and Keira stared at his sausage fingers as they passed over the five hundred bills and till he finally came over a single hundred. He plucked it out, forced the wad back, then stuck a finger in the goth's face. "When you came here with that raccoon make-up, I only hired you because we needed someone. But you turned out to be the best person we've had here in ages. This isn't a payment in advance - consider it a well-deserved bonus."

The whole time, Terry worried that his father might insult Keira to the point that she wept and quit like so many others did before her. What came as a shock was how his father's hand slipped the bill into Keira's back pocket, by moving his palm confidently across her ass.

Keira said nothing, so he took his time, placing it in deep, allowing the full length of his fingers to cup her round cheek. Then he gave her ass a playful smack. "You're one hell of an employee."

Was this it? Was she going to cry?

Keira grinned, the white teeth flashing. "Thank you, sir. I try. So, Terry, will you come to the concert?"

The old man stared at him judgingly, and it was enough to knock the breath out of him. "I'd like to, but..."

"Terry needs me to drive him home."

Struggling to find a solution to the awkward moment, Keira pulled out the bill and stretched it straight. "Why don't we all go? My treat. With a hundred, we could all get front-row VIP tickets."

Terry expected his father to shoot that down too, but the fatso wrinkled his nose thoughtfully. "I guess we could try."

Terry sat in the back of the car looking out at the dark wet streets as they waited for Keira to return. They brought her home so she could change for the concert, and almost twenty minutes passed since she had gone up. The old man rocked against the front seat, impatiently switching from one song to another.

"This Keira sure is something..." he was saying.

What was that supposed to mean? For his father to perv on the girls at work wasn't a rare thing. He used to be more blatant about it in the past, before one of the employees had caused a shitstorm and threatened to sue and get him arrested. Not much happened in the aftermath, but his father definitely toned it down after that day.

Most of the girls reacted very badly to that sort of thing, and there was no wonder why given what a fat ugly creep he was. That Keira accepted him touching her ass before was surprising. She was being way too nice.

Just thinking about it made Terry mad... he would've done anything to touch her in that way. In over two decades of life, the only time he ever got a girlfriend was in his first year of high school, and the only thing he ever did with her was hold hands.

Keira was the real deal. A breathtaking beauty. Strangely, despite her being hotter than anyone that ever worked at their place, she was way sweeter than any of those sluts. From the first day he told himself that he would ask her out, but it never came up until tonight...

And now here they were.

"You ever listen to this band we're going to?" his father was saying.

"Nope."

"Me neither. Let's hope it's good."

You shouldn't touch Keira like that, he wanted to tell his father, but the words simply wouldn't come out. After a lifetime of getting berated, talking back didn't come easy.

Keira came out of the building and ran to the car. Her revealing outfit almost left him drooling. She wore this flimsy crop top that left her tummy bare and a pair of fishnet stockings that went over the tiny shorts that left most of her ass out.

The lights came on as she opened the car door and slid into the front seat next to his father. "Sorry about that."

The old man ogled her chest and the way the nipples nudged through the wispy fabric. "You look amazing."

Keira giggled shyly and pushed the seatbelt in. "Thanks..."

There was no line at the club.

"Club" might've been the wrong word to describe the place. With its wooden interior and tiny tables, it reminded Terry more of a tavern from a video game than any modern club. A tall guy that could've passed for a dark elf stood stood to take their tickets, too busy talking to a blonde to even pay attention the first time they said.

"We want the VIP seats," Keira clarified.

"Oh shit," he said. "Sorry to say, but we've only got two VIP seats available."

His father glanced over at the free table in front and the plastic chairs. "You telling me you can't pull out another chair from the back?"

"Well, we don't really have another..."

He clicked his tongue with annoyance, sweat pouring down his face. "Look, just give us the VIP ones. We'll make it work."

The guy made a displeased face but let them pay for it anyway. As soon as they went over, his father plopped his fat ass into one of the seats. Terry and Keira hovered next to the table, looking for a third chair. "Should I go look around?"

As she finished asking, one of the band members walked on stage and tested the mic. "Hello, hello?"

The old man grabbed Keira by the wrist and pulled her right into his lap. "You can just sit here. Doesn't bother me." The dark-skinned beauty giggled and nearly knocked the table over with her boots.

Terry's manhood shriveled at the sight of the two together like that. He needed to sit for fear of falling, his body shaking with frustration. Why was his father being such a fucking pig? It was one thing if it were some random girl, but this was the one chick he liked...

Heart beating so fast he thought it was coming up his throat, he looked towards Keira and tugged on her sleeve to get her attention. "You can come sit with me too. I think together you might be too heavy for that chair."

The goth tossed her head back indifferently and waved his concern away. "It's fine. Everything here looks like it's about to break, but it never does."

Terry gulped, struggling to inhale. His mouth was so dry all of a sudden. As the rest of the band came on-stage, the blonde from before came up to take their orders. "I'll have a coke," said Terry.

"Me too," said Keira.

His father snorted. "You came to a bar to drink a coke? Scratch that, get the both of us some vodka."

The blonde showed concern as he waited for Keira to correct the order. The brown babe just shrugged. "I guess that's fine."

This was unbelievable. Was he trying to get her drunk? Just what the hell was going on?

The band began to play but Terry just looked over at his crush as the old man held her. The fat and hairy arms were now wrapped around her waist. There was no panic on her face either - she was just leaning against his chest and enjoying the show. The few times Terry crossed gazes with, Keira just smiled disarmingly, as if everything were fine.

The drinks arrived and Keira poured the vodka down her throat all at once, even faster than his father. The two were whispering in each other's ear, and Terry entire body shook with worry as he considered that they might've been talking about him and how lame it was to order a coke.

One of the hairy white paws left her stomach and came to rest on her leg, moving up and down her thigh with the band just meters away. It was shameless... Her brown hands came to rest over his but she made no attempt to move them away.

How could Keira allow this? Suddenly, Terry wondered if he misjudged her all along. Surely he couldn't just blame the old man. Why wasn't she doing anything? Why did she look so overjoyed? Jesus!

His father whispered into her ear again, but she only bit her lip.

He whispered for so long that Terry realized the bastard wasn't talking at all, but planting kisses on her neck. The fat fingers moved up under her crop top and Keira gasped. Terry could see the drummer looking over at the table with concern, but nobody said anything. His father just went on kissing her and feeling up her breasts, till she finally turned her head and made out with him directly.

Terry just sat there: ashamed, embarrassed, soulcrushed, defeated, betrayed, and utterly sick to his stomach. Those dirty fingertips explored the young brown body that was his dream, moving across her inner thighs down to her plump butt.

After what felt like an eternity, the band finished and people stood up to cheer. What the hell was he cheering for? All he wanted was a bridge to jump off of.

Keira leaned in towards him. "How'd you like the band?"

"It was good, I guess."

Her expression was as sweet as always, which is why her words hurt so much: "I'm glad you came."

And yet, his heart also beat joyfully to know that she recognized his presence in any way... "You are?" Did she like him? Was this what she was trying to signal? But then, why was she doing all that stuff just now?

The old man put his arms around her again, squeezing her possessively. "What do you kids want to do now?"

Keira closed her eyes and put her face against his chest. "Sleep."

Another whisper into her ear. "Well," he said. "Let's go home then."

The expectation on Terry's part was that they were dropping Keira off for the night, but he noticed the car parked right in front of their building instead. "We're going to our place?" he said, but no one answered as they slammed the car doors.

They went up.

Once inside, the old man grabbed some beers out of the fridge and passed one to each of them, this time merciful enough to include Terry.

The father and son sat on the sofa with Keira between the two of them. She was explaining the meaning of the songs from the band with gusto and in great detail. Then she reached out and took each of them by the hand. "Thank you guys for coming with me tonight."

"Our pleasure," his father said lecherously. "You know, I used to play music when I was younger too."

Keira showed theatric surprise and jokingly cried. "Really?"

"Come on, lemme show you something."

God, not this again, thought Terry. The old man always loved to bring out his old synthethizer and play stupid songs. Still, Keira went along with him into the bedroom. Strangely, they closed the door, and that immediately made him suspicious.

The edgy Terry sat there for a while, waiting for them to come out, but there was no movement.

Heart pounding wildly in his chest, he rushed over to the door and listened. He could only hear the low groans of his father, accompanied by an occasional, "That's right, baby."

His legs jumped back by themselves as if he had been stabbed in the chest.

Keira was blowing him.

Terry stood there for some time, helpless, wondering what to do, then went back to listening. This time he could make out moans that were definitely Keira's. "You like that?" his father asked her. "Yes, sir," she answered breathlessly.

That was it then. The old man was fucking his girlfriend.

Maybe they were not officially dating, but that's what she was.

Or should have been.

The first girl that had liked him in close to ten years.

A chocolate-brown goth princess with a bum that turned every head and an angelic smile that outshone the brightest star.

And the dirty pig took her all to himself...

Tears went down Terry's face. A single choked sob left lips, and he nearly threw up.

Curious to see what was happening, he turned off the lights in the hallway and gently lowered his hand over the handle and cracked the door open.

The lights were off in his father's bedroom, but they were right on the bed. The old man's white and hairy back worked hard while Keira's dark arms and legs wrapped around him, spiderly, the contrast between the two inking them out perfectly in the gloom.

"Fuck!" Keira gasped, mewling in a high-pitched way. "You feel so good inside me, sir. You're so fucking big. Jesus, you're so big!"

"I'm gonna make you scream, you dumb little whore."

"I want you to break me in, sir. Please!"

"I'm going to make my son hear you."

How could they say such things? Did they not care that he could hear them? Were they this heartless?

Keira grunted in pleasure as his fat ass flexed. The huge white body slammed into her with renewed force, her fingers visibly scraping over his back until the red marks were trickling blood.

"Tell me you love my cock."

"I love your cock, sir."

"Louder!"

"I love your cock, sir!"

At this point, she was completely buried under his jiggling rolls of fat. "Louder, bitch! Louder!"

"I love your big white cock, sir!" came her muffled scream. "I love it so much."

It was so loud that Terry knew his neighbors could hear every word. So how could they think that he wouldn't? Keira was as bad as he was. She just used him.

And now she's thrown me away.

What was it about his father that made her choose him? He was a fucking hog! How could she submit to him so easily? What a complete whore. What was so wrong with him that he wasn't the clear choice? Was he that much of a loser that even this fat old man was better?

The deep feeling of inferiority bubbled up as he watched the two grinding against one another in bed, the old balls slapping against her dominated pussy. Terry lost any semblance of control. He closed the door and rushed to unzip his pants, so close to coming that he started shooting his load before it was fully out, making a total mess of himself.

Hot cum dripping down his hands and pants, the arousal went away only to be replaced by anger and humiliation. Terry turned away from the door and headed into his room, allowing himself to cry in earnest as he hit the bed. Even from here, even over the sound of his tears, he could still hear him taking her.

He woke up in the morning before they did and went to make breakfast. At first he considered not coming out at all, or pretending to be sick, but that sort of stuff never worked. The only thing he could do was show them how little he cared.

They woke up too, because he could hear them fucking as he made coffee, trying to ignore the erection building up in his pants. The steaming brew burned his tongue but that was better to think about than what was happening in that bedroom.

The door opened just a few moments later. Keira stepped out, alone, wearing one of his father's shirts that was big enough to work as a robe. Terry considered not greeting her at all, when she came over and wrapped her arms around him lovingly. "Good morning!"

"Morning?..." he whispered, confused. The sudden warmth of her body came as a blanket over the icy numbness that erupted from his heart.

Keira grinned and lifted herself up on her toes to kiss him. Not some peck on the cheek either, but a proper open-mouth kissed that left him breathless when it came to an unfortunate end. "Thank you for yesterday."