Metal Rap

Fuck I hate shit like this," Clark yelled over the loudspeakers.

"Me too. Why did Levi bring us to this place? They had a thing at the Rockies tonight," I shouted.

"What?" Clark asked, leaning in his ear.

I repeated myself, "The Rockies!"

"Hockey?"

I laughed, shaking my head, "Rockies, the club, Rockies!"

"Curtis, I can't hear shit!"

I chuckled, "Nothing, man. Let's get drunk," I pointed toward the non-crowded bar since everyone else was on the dance floor.

He looked at me and nodded, "free drinks!"

We were seven beers in and watching the crowd. It was a wild crowd. I am a drummer for a band called Molly. It was a heavy metal band. Well, it used to be. Our new lead vocalist, Levi, was trying to branch out into new genres of music. He had decided to go with a more hip-hop vibe, and I was all for it, but it was a change in pace from the usual atmosphere. We didn't make music to twerk to, and all the music playing while hips and ass were grating around was nothing off our album. The music playing wasn't anything I'd listened to at all. The DJ mixed a little Jay-Z every now and then, making me hope for the best. Then it played out into whatever new school artist had sampled him, only to ruin the whole song for me.

I'm a white guy, 34, and somewhat out of touch with the hip trends, but at least I am not alone. Clark is an original bandmate and shares my same style. Fans once thought we were twins when I dyed my black hair on our debut album cover ten years ago. We were both 6'1 and athletic built back then.

Carl is swollen and fat as hell now. I've since put on a slight beer belly and now don my natural dirty blonde hair and keep a thick but neat brown-blonde beard. Our wardrobe is not as grimy as before. Our label forced the style change; they wanted to revamp Molly for the mainstream. After our three-year hiatus and playing small bars, I needed the money and took the deal. My inner rocker was upset, as was my wife, who called me a sellout when I came home with the news. I was just happy to be back doing what I loved.

Clark and I kept our eyes on each ass that swayed back and forth. We don't fit in with the new members of the band, and we sure as fuck didn't fit in with this crowd. Because while the rappers and our lead singer were getting smashed by ass, Clark and I were sitting at the bar looking weird.

I thought about saying something to Clark, but the speakers will only muzzle my voice, so I nurse my 8th beer and try to bob my head to the catchy chorus. Then I am shoved off my seat and challenged. I circle to see a petite woman with a thin layer of cotton wrapped around her body. I would call it a dress, but I think dresses cover a bit more skin than the bandage she has on.

I eye her friend, a dark-skinned blonde-haired woman who gives me an apology and a bright, beautiful smile.

"It's okay!" I yell and look at her friend, who must be drunk.

Instead of a drunken smile, I get an awful expression. The young woman still manages to look glamorous with her lips curled down and red-rimmed eyes leaking tears of sorrow across her cheeks.

"Oh shit," I mumble, then shout, "Is she okay?"

"She is having a panic attack!" The beauty yelled back, and I shook my head sadly.

"She needs to go outside!" I say and hold her shoulder to balance her. The woman has both hands on the bar, her head down in suffering, and her knees are buckling under whatever pressure she has on her shoulders. Poor girl, I thought and grabbed her trembling hand.

"Let's take her outside. She needs some air and quiet!" I yelled.

The blonde looked toward me and yelled, "HUH?"

She didn't mind my touch, only sobbing louder. It was nothing that discouraged the bass from booming from the system. I could see the Exit sign up ahead and led the way out. She clenched my hand while we walked out of the stuffy lounge into the fresh morning air. I kept my stride to escape the crowd out front, knowing she needed a quiet place to calm down.

"Hey, where are we going!" Her friend's loud voice stopped me, and I turned around.

"I WAS..." I rubbed my ear with one hand, keeping the crying woman's hand clenched in my other, "Sorry, it was loud in there. I'm going to get her some peace."

"Somewhat?"

"She needs some quiet time. We will be over here," I said, walking around the back.

"Nah, Nah, hell no. I'm coming with yall 'cause you're not bout to Jeffrey Dahmer, my friend, on God."

"What? No," I chuckled, "Give me 5 minutes. My wife used to calm me down when I had panic attacks a few years ago. We will be around the back."

The thumping from inside the building still caused some vibrations, but it was quieter nonetheless. I gave her a minute to calm herself down and finish crying. I began coaching her on deep breaths just as her friend rounded the corner.

"Kash, you good?" Her friend asked.

The young woman's shoulders were trembling, but she nodded, and I intervened, knowing she wasn't alright.

"5 more minutes," I said, placing my palm up.

The beautiful woman eyed me a bit before nodding and stepping back around the corner. I focused on my patient, her tears had stopped, but her bottom lip was quivering.

"Are you cold?"

She didn't answer. The warm breeze wasn't too chilly, but I still offered my flannel. I had a t-shirt underneath.

"Would you like to put this on your shoulders?"

She finally shook a head full of chocolate curls, and I gave her a nice look. Avoiding her curvy body, I scanned her caramel complexion with curiosity. She had makeup on but had cried the foundation off, revealing dark freckles on her nose.

"Remember to count your breaths. Four in and eight out."

Her cheeks filled with air and released as her chest hoisted up and backed down gently. Her little cleavage was hard not to notice, and I let my eyes wander down to her full hips and uncovered her beautiful, flawless thighs. I noticed she was barefoot and cursed myself for making her walk through the gravel.

She coughed, and I focused back on her face, absently gazing toward the sky.

"You didn't want to be here, huh?"

Her warm brown eyes looked at me, and she shook her head bitterly. Even though she looked apart, we were in the same boat.

"Me either. That loud music and smoke probably triggered you. But you're okay. I promise. You just need to keep breathing and be calm," I explained.

Those curls bounced along her head, and I placed my hand on her bare shoulder. She wasn't cold. She was hot, and I used my palm to produce some air.

She continued breathing, and I got curious and asked, "What's your name?"

"Kash Kitten," she said; her country accent reminded me of folks back home.

"Where are you from?"

"Georgia."

"Atlanta?"

"No, Richlands, it ain't far from Alt, but we moved to Miami now."

"What do you do?"

"I sing, well Nah, I rap right now. But I can sing too."

"Talented all around, huh? Do you play instruments?"

"Piano, when I was little, I don't know if I could play it now. It's been a long time."

"I'm not asking you to play Beethoven."

Kash chuckled and swiped her button nose.

"I play the drums for Molly," I mentioned.

Her eyes widened, "Word, that's what's up. I like that band. Well, I liked y'all before y'all got that fool rapping. Y'all sound crazy as fuck now," her nose turned up, and Kash swiped her arm across her face.

I chuckled because that was a big deal for me. Although I loved the money, the change into the mainstream was tedious and took away from our craft.

I shrugged, "Well, Levi knows how to sell music."

"Levi?" Kash rolled her eyes, "Y'all, we're better when y'all had the other guy singing lead."

I laughed and nodded, "I won't argue with that."

"I mean, why even try to mix rap and metal? It's cool, but your old fans remember, and they're gonna be mad. I know I was. And Levi can't rap over a regular beat, so what makes him think he can rap to rock?"

I got the impression she wasn't a fan of him, and I couldn't blame her. He annoyed me at times.

"Yeah, don't tell anyone, but I'm not a fan of the transition either," I laughed.

Kash chuckled, "I won't."

I smiled down at Kash's softened features and swallowed the feelings her gorgeous face was giving me. Her personality was blowing me away as well.

"So, are you good?"

She nodded slightly, "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"No problem at all, Kash. Kitten?"

"Yeah," Kash looked toward me in awe, "Damn, I am rude as hell. My bad, what's your name? I wasn't," she popped her head.

"It's okay. You were in a different space. I've been there, trust me. I'm Curtis." I laughed, "I don't have a moniker."

"It's cool," she smiled, "My real name's Amanda."

"Amanda, Kash Kitten, it's nice to meet you," I extended my hand, and she shook it. Now I was able to appreciate just how soft she was. I was about to continue our conversation when her friend ran to us quickly.

"Kash, Jay, is in there trying to fight some damn body, so we bout to go."

"I'm coming," she called out with a slight attitude that I found bold and sexy as hell then her red-rimmed brown eyes set back on me.

"You'll give me your number, and we can talk some more," Kash charged, pulling out her phone from the top of her hot pink mini dress.

"What's your number?"

Now that she was composed, she dazzled me a bit.

"I, Um."

I was dumbfounded, but she gave me an impatient look, and I began to ramble off my digits.

"Okay, I'll probably save your number as, hmm," she looked toward the sky and back at me with a broad smile, and I detected two sparkling gems in her teeth.

"Calm, Curtis," she giggled, typing my contact information.

"That's a good handle," I chuckled nervously, "Are you sure you will be okay?"

"Yeah, we bout to head out, thank God, and I met the drummer from my favorite band. And he's a cutie," Kash smiled at me.

I grinned wide, "Give me a call, or text, anytime."

"I will," she spent a while examining my face in silence before whispering, "Thank you, Curtis."

I took a deep breath and placed my fingertips on her tear-stained cheeks. I nodded, and I'm not sure what caused me to be so bold, but I kissed her cheek and leaned back with hopes of one on the lips. However, Kash only smirked and shimmed away around the corner. I went back into the bar to drink my erection off.

+

+

I woke up with a pounding headache, and I heard the jingle of my phone, along with a few dings and a chime that sent my head flying up. When I reached for my phone, it began to sound again with a call from my wife.

"Hello," my voice, I know, was groggy.

"Did you sleep with that black girl?" She asked.

"What?"

"You're all over the fucking internet kissing some Rapper girl. Curtis, what in the fuck. I understand you are famous or whatever now, but seriously?"

"I didn't kiss anyone last night, Levi brought us to a black club, and this girl was crying and-"

"And what, you stuck your tongue down her fucking throat? Are you kidding me right now? I knew you would cheat on me with groupies but not another celebrity. Do you know how fucking embarrassing that is, Curtis!"

"She had a panic attack, and I was...."

"So, you were soothing her with your tongue? You are such a fucking saint."

I snorted, "Sasha, I didn't kiss her in the mouth. It was the cheek, she...." I groaned from the pain shooting in my head and the weak feeling in my stomach.

"Curtis, it's over. I can't do it. I told you I couldn't do this."

"Sasha, it was a kiss on the cheek and a good night. She left like two seconds after."

I placed her on speakerphone while she continued to growl at me and force a separation. I scrolled through texts, some from Sasha calling me a cheater and some from bandmates congratulating me on my conquest. I had heard absolutely nothing from the sex kitten. I finally stumbled on the picture. It was murky, but with my head turned, it looked like we were kissing.

"I'm coming home, okay," I said, focusing on my wife's conversation.

"Don't. Curtis, I'm done. I stuck by you with the whole Kisha thing, but clearly, you have a type, and it's not me."

The phone line went dead, and I groaned, crawling from the bed. I looked down at the woman in my bed, her dark brown skin glistening with glitter. Yeah, she was right; I loved black women.

+

+

Days turned into weeks, and the months flew by, Sasha left me but kept the house, and I used my royalties from the last album to buy a small apartment in Tennessee. It wasn't far from my parents. My brother used it when he was in town. I was on tour with the band for weeks and hardly broke in my new bed.

I heard nothing from Amanda but frequently Googled her to see how things were going for the young artist. I found a page dedicated to her that labeled her a cheating whore for kissing me. She had a rapper boyfriend who instantly broke up with her over the scandal and, in turn, started a Team Kash Vs. Team J-Son beef on the internet.

After a few weeks on tour, I heard she had dropped an album and had a song dedicated to me. It was called Comfort, and I heard it and couldn't help but blush. All her songs were very sensual, but this one wasn't a sexual song. It had meaningful lyrics and a lovely mellow melody. She changed up and went with an R&B tempo. She sounded amazing, but that song didn't blow up. Another one called "Lick it'' topped the charts. It explicitly described how she enjoyed getting licked; that one made more than my heart thump.

The following year we were told by our label that we would be performing at an award show. Kash was also attending. She was nominated for two awards. I was pretty nervous about running into her even though, from the sound of the song, she appreciated me.

Our performance was a hit, and the crowd was wild. The band and I hung backstage for a while before finding seats at a table in the back. They had reserved the front row for the nominees and more prominent Bands and artists. I returned from the bathroom when I felt a slight push on my lower back. I turned around, and there she was. She styled her hair in the same loose chocolate curls, but they hung longer around her shoulders. And for this event, she chose a more modest black dress that outlined her curvy physique. One hand was on her hips, and the other was holding her phone at me.

"You gave me the wrong number, motherfucka!" Kash said.

I laughed nervously, "I promise you it was a mistake."

Kash laughed and pushed my arm, "I almost had another Panic attack when a girl answered the phone."

"Well, my wife saw that picture and," I slid my fingers across my throat.

Her mouth dropped, and her eyes softened, "I'm so sorry, Curtis."

"It's fine. That ship was already sinking. I'm sorry about that crazy internet shit."

Kash smirked, "It's all good. No such thing as bad press, and you better be Team Kash."

She pushed my chest, and I laughed and nodded in agreement. Her eyes looked sexy with the thick black liner and a pop of pink color on her lids and lips.

"Come on, give me your real number." Kash ordered and opened her phone, "See, I texted you and called you."

Kash held the phone up to my face, and I snatched it from her to read the long text message. It was full of tenderness and gratitude. She had even sent a picture message of her in bed the following morning. I felt horrible for being one number off.

"Yeah, I meant to say 1157, not 1156," I said, handing her the phone, "Fix it, and you can text me anytime. I want pictures too. You owe me," I smirked.

"Curtis, I am sorry about that picture. The crazy people be hiding in the bushes, ready to take pictures. I am truly sorry bout your girl. That's so fucked up." Kash shook her head painfully.

"It's fine, you're fine." I laughed, "Where's your table?"

"They got us sitting up there," she pointed.

"Oh shit, yeah, congratulations on your nomination."

"Man, fuck that shit, I ain't win," Kash turned her nose up, "They had me get all dressed up for nothing."

"You came back here just to cuss me out?"

Kash giggled, "No, I came to get your real number. And Levi was supposed to give you mine, but he didn't do it."

I glanced at Levi, and he looked upset over our interaction. I wasn't sure why. He had a wife and a girlfriend. I turned my eyes back to Kash in her little black dress and felt a sense of confidence I hadn't had before.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," I smiled.

Kash laughed, "And go where?"

I folded to her level, bringing my lips close to her diamond-donned ear to whisper.

"My hotel room. I want to lick you long and lick you strong."

I let my tongue swipe across her neck. When I backed up, her expression surprised me. She wasn't mad or giving me the sex eye. I assumed from her timid smile and blushed, tanned cheeks Kash was shy.

"Uh, I can't leave. My dad already begged me to come," Kash shifted nervously.

I took a sip of my beer and pointed toward her, "You're a homebody?"

She smirked, "No, not really. I like hanging out with my friends. Stuff like this ain't my vibe. All this is extra."

"I feel the same."

Kash beamed and ran her tongue across her lips, "You seem chill."

"You are hot in that little black dress. When can I take it off of you?"

Kash covered her mouth and smiled. I removed her hand and held it, "When?"

"Curtis, I think it would be cool to hang out sometime, but my dad will have a fit if I leave." The sweet smile on her face sent my cock pulsing and my mouth watering.

"You got a strict father, huh?" I chuckled, "What if I want to be your daddy?"

Kash bit her lip, and I chuckled. I plucked her chin, bringing her bright eyes to my gaze, "Go get your stuff and meet me at the door," I winked. "I'm busting you out of here."

Kash nodded and walked hurriedly toward the front. I wasn't sure If she would meet or leave me hanging, but I bid farewell to the band and headed to the entrance to wait. It took her about 30 minutes, and I thought I would return alone. But I spotted her walking toward me from a distance, her heels in her hands and a pair of flip-flops on her feet.

Without her heels, Kash was barely 5 feet tall. She blushed and scanned my tall frame, "Hey, Curtis."

"Hello, Kash," I smiled.

She gave me a nervous look, "Maybe we should go out of a side door because... um, there's a lot of paparazzi that way," she whispered.

"Are you running from a boyfriend?"

"No, do you, um, have a girlfriend."

I bent down and kissed her. No cheeks are required. Her lips fluttered onto mine. I introduced my tongue into her mouth and held her shoulders. Kash was trembling and timidly brought her hands to my bearded jaw. Lost deep in her kiss, I nudged her toward the wall. I broke from her pouty lips, and she reached for more, wrapping her hands around my neck.

"You asked me if I had a girlfriend, right? I guess that depends on how well you taste," I licked my lips.

Kash bit her lip and beamed as I grabbed her hand and stepped out into the vast bright lights. I heard a few cheers and boos as we walked down the steps. A serious security guy ushered us to a limo I assumed was hers.

I situated my long legs on the bench, and the man finally shut the door, drowning out the shouts.

"12th Street, Emerald Hotel, and close the partition," I ordered the driver. I think he was asleep and so I repeated my request for him to drive off.

The divider went up, and before the car moved, I was on my knees in the limo. I positioned myself before Kash and pushed her dress around her hips.

She chuckled and tried to push it back down, "I didn't think you were serious?"

I fought my head into her crotch, pulling back the thick layers of her dress and tugging her meaty thighs, bringing her crotch to my face.

"Are you sure?" Kash's voice was uncertain, and I chuckled.