The Adventures of Boipussy

Author's note: Hey, please don't feel shy about leaving comments or messaging me. I know it's been a while between this chapter and the previous one, but I'd love to interact with you and to know what you think about the story!

*

They woke up mid-morning, knowing they had a big day ahead of them, and if everything went well, they'd have an even bigger night.

Pete rolled over onto his side to face his boyfriend. He sighed in happiness. "Morning, sexy dude," he said.

"Hey, Pete," Ace replied. He gazed at Pete's beautiful freckles strewn across his face. "We really must stop meeting like this," he joked.

Pete smiled. "You mean, meeting on my mattress? Do you see me complaining?" He cupped his hand behind Ace's neck, pulling him in for a good morning kiss.

They considered what today had in store for them.

"Tonight, I get to tick something big off my bucket list," Pete declared.

"What's that?" replied Ace.

"I get to watch your sexy ass bounce across a stage for an hour from a drum riser."

"And you know what I'll be bouncing on, don't you?" Ace teased. They both knew Ace would be wearing his buttplug while he performed.

"Hey," asked Pete, "can I put it in for you before the gig?"

"Fuck yeah," Ace breathed. "That sounds so fucking hot. Wait a second, what's the time?"

Pete checked his phone. "It's only ten-thirty." He stretched and yawned.

"Cool," said Ace. "We've got some time to spare before rehearsal."

Pete pretended to think hard, weighing up the options. He grinned. "I think you might be right. What would you like to do with our spare time?" he giggled.

These two long-haired metalheads were so completely into each other. They kissed again, their tongues fighting and colliding deep in each other's mouths.

"I love you," breathed Ace.

"I fucking love you too." Pete threw his arms around Ace's neck, never wanting to let him go.

Pete wished Carlos and Gorilla had said the same simple words to each other that he and Ace had just said. Things could've been very different.

Pete reached down and cupped Ace's warm balls in his hand, giving them the slightest hint of a squeeze. He grinned. He knew what he wanted to do. He scooted down towards the end of his mattress and licked the tip of Ace's dick. A dollop of precum had already appeared.

"Shit, Pete, I ..."

"Shhh," Pete soothed. "I want to do this. You know I want to."

Ace knew what was coming, and he braced for impact. Pete sucked Ace entire dick down to the balls in a single motion, lashing his tongue around the shaft. "Oh my fucking god, Pete ... I'll never ever get tired of your mouth." Breathing wasn't easy for Ace right now. Especially not while Pete's long tongue wrapped itself around like a wet tentacle.

Pete took Ace's dick out of his throat and licked the tip again. "I know," he smiled. "You want some more?"

Ace couldn't reply. His brain capsized as he felt Pete's wet, expert mouth impale itself on his shaft again, all the way down to his balls. He felt Pete's long tongue tickling his tender scrotum. "Fuck, Pete ... I need to warn you ... I swear to god ... if you do that again, I'll probably cum so hard your head will explode ... and I don't wanna have to call 911 to report a blowjob-related fatality, so ... please ... please don't do that again."

Pete scooted back up and looked deep into his boyfriend's eyes. "Really?"

Ace was paralysed. He was right on the edge. "Yes, really."

"I love that I have this power over you," Pete said, before pinching one of Ace's stiff nipples.

Ace gazed at Pete's beautiful lips, tongue and mouth. "If I ever have to face the death penalty, I know how I want to die."

Pete playfully tickled one of Ace's nipples with his tongue. "How?"

"Death by blowjob. With you as the executioner."

Pete felt delirious with joy at having finally found someone who was so into him. And as for Ace, he wondered if his fuckboi days were coming to an end. Pete was becoming very precious to him, and he really didn't want to fuck this up.

"If I'm not mistaken," Pete explained, "I'm duty-bound as your boyfriend to extract a load out of you. If you won't feed it to me, where do you want to drop it?

Ace stroked Pete's face. "Can I fuck you?"

Pete's asshole twitched in anticipation. "That's one question you never, ever need to ask again. The answer will always be yes."

Ace's dick was already well-lubricated from Pete's mouth, tongue and throat. He carried a bottle of lube with him wherever he went, but he remembered Pete had a bottle of his own on his bedside table. He grabbed it, squirted a small amount into his palm, and began massaging Pete's pussy. He put his middle finger inside.

"Fuck, Ace," Pete moaned, pushing back onto Pete's finger. "That feels so good. Your fingers are such a tease. I want your dick inside me."

"Roll over onto your back," said Ace. "I want to see your face while we fuck."

He lifted Pete's ass up slightly before gently penetrating him. Pete gasped; his boyfriend's cock felt so fucking good inside him.

"Fuck, Ace ... please go slow."

"Why? Does it hurt?" He worried if more lube was required.

"No," Pete breathed, his eyes closed. "It feels perfect. I just want to enjoy feeling you fuck me."

This was the perfect morning. Ace went as slow as he could, but as he looked down upon Pete's gorgeous face and its beautiful constellation of freckles, his cock began to thicken and expand. And as he felt Pete's tight cunt pulse around his shaft, he couldn't hold back anymore. His orgasm arrived on an upstroke, and he pissed his artillery of creamy bullets deep into his boyfriend's asshole. He pulled out, and Pete returned fire by grabbing Ace's neck and jacking himself off onto his boyfriend's face.

"You taste good, Pete," Ace said, licking his lips.

"I'll be the judge of that. Share it with me?"

Ace had already swallowed (greedy boy), but he scooped the rest of Pete's cum off his face and neck. He held his hand above Pete's face, letting him lick his load off his fingers. He felt Pete's long tongue wrapping around his digits.

Pete opened his mouth to display what he'd collected of his own load. Ace leaned down and kissed him. They swapped Pete's semen back and forth while Ace's own load slowly leaked out of Pete's boipussy.

"Fuck, that was a big load," Pete assessed. "You made my stomach feel so warm." He breathed for a moment, feeling Ace's seed seeping out. "I fucking love you to death," he said.

"I fucking love you to DEATH METAL!" Ace replied.

"Fuck yeah!" Pete screamed. He made the devil horns sign and flopped his tongue out.

They got up and started their day. Pete flicked the switch on the coffee machine, and black liquid began to accumulate in a pyrex pot. The smell was intoxicating. "You want something to eat?" he asked.

"What have you got?" replied a still stark-naked and semi-erect Ace.

Pete looked through cupboards. "I got ... cereal, or I could make you some toast, or ... fuck, I don't fucking know."

"I'll have whatever you're having," Ace smiled.

Pete walked across to him. He brushed Ace's long, blonde hair away from his face. He was so into Ace that it almost hurt. He leaned in close, seductively. "I don't quite know how or why, but I feel like you're gonna get me into so much fucking trouble."

"What do you mean?" asked Ace. The coffee continued to percolate.

"I'm a good boy, Ace. I got good grades at school. I studied hard, and I always did my homework every night. I'm going to law school now. I'm afraid that you and your sexy bad-boy ways are going to corrupt my precious soul and lead me astray."

Ace cupped Pete's warm balls and kissed his neck. "That's the plan, you sexy fuckin' dude."

Pete moaned in surrender, whispering. "Whatever you've got in mind, I want it."

The coffee machine filled the pot and switched itself off, but breakfast could wait. Pete took Ace by the hand and led him back to his bed. This time, he got what he wanted -- half a dozen ropes of Ace's sweet sperm. "I think I'm good for breakfast now," he said, swallowing. "What about you?"

*

Around two-thirty, Pete's van pulled up at Ass To Mouth's regular rehearsal room. Boipussy had booked the space. They planned to run through their set a couple of times, just to make sure Pete was comfortable with the tunes before they hit the stage later tonight. Ace had no doubts about Pete's musical ability and his knowledge of the songs, but some of the other members of Boipussy wanted to make sure for themselves.

Pete lugged his kit into the room and set up. He casually hit a few cymbals and made sure his double-kick pedals were working. He was ready to go.

He looked across at his boyfriend. He was wearing a black t-shirt, a denim jacket, and a pair of tight jeans. He proudly rocked the metalhead uniform.

Boipussy's two guitarists and bass player arrived. They carted their equipment in and set everything up. Introductions took place, hands were shaken, and guitars were plugged in. They each thanked Pete for stepping in to play at such short notice. They told Ace that their fulltime drummer was recovering well in hospital and wasn't about to die, but right now, their main concern was tonight's gig.

The drummer is the engine room of any heavy metal band, and things can feel a little different, especially for the bass player, when there's a new man behind the kit. They hoped that running through their set with Pete before the show would ease their worries about playing a show with a temporary drummer. They knew that Pete and Ace were together, but from a musician's perspective, that made them even more nervous about tonight's show. They were concerned that Ace might be hoping to use their regular drummer's surgery as an opportunity to get Pete into the band as a fulltime replacement.

"We good to go?" asked Ace.

Heads nodded, and the hum of guitar amplifiers filled the room.

"You ready, Pete?"

"Let's go." He twirled his sticks.

They launched headlong into "Bite My Pie," their opening salvo. It was a challenging tune for the drummer to negotiate, because it lurched from 4/4 to 5/4 unexpectedly halfway through, just for a few bars. Pete knew the song well and played the time changes expertly. Next up was "Swallow My Sword," a guitar-heavy balls-to-the-wall track designed to strip paint off walls. They moved into a slower song, a tender ballad called "Choke Me," and one of Boipussy's guitarists nodded in appreciation at Pete's deft touch on the kit -- maybe Pete was a better drummer than their regular drummer.

They powered through the rest of their set. "Slutty Boyfriend," "Roadhouse Carpark" and "Fuck In Your Truck" were played flawlessly. They made it all the way through to the final song, "Hot Load," and Pete kicked the shit out of his helldrums the whole way through. He threw his drumsticks in the air on the last beat, and the band took a breather.

Ace needed the approval of the other members of Boipussy for the gig to go ahead. If the others weren't happy with how the rehearsal felt, they'd cancel the gig, citing their regular drummer's appendix operation. They went outside for a few moments to talk. Pete sat on his drumstool, casually twirling his sticks, awaiting the verdict.

Ace walked back in, grinning. "You fuckin' rock, dude. We just wanna play everything through again one more time to be sure, but goddamn, you know how to play."

Pete smiled innocently. "Hey, I'm just glad to help out."

"I'm curious. How do you know our songs so well?" asked Ace. "We haven't released anything yet other than a shitty demo."

Pete looked a little sheepish. "I need to own up to something. Last time you played at Eternal, I asked the chick on the mixing desk to record your set for me," he disclosed. "I listen to it all the time. Other than my own band, you're my favourite band in the world." The room fell silent before Pete continued. "I hope that's OK?"

Ace kissed him deeply before turning back to the rest of the band. "Of course it's OK! Now let's fuckin' rock this shit one more time!"

Their second run-through was perfect.

*

They packed down and lugged out, heading in search of food before the show.

Pete took Ace back to the burger place across the street from Eternal.

"Are you fucking serious?" asked Ace. "Are you deliberately triggering me? You remember what happened last time we ate here?"

Pete smiled. "Hey, what can I say? They make awesome burgers here, and you can see the venue from here." He pointed to Eternal, just on the other side of the street. "It's convenient."

Two haloumi burgers arrived, and this time, Ace's tight buns held together. "Mmm, this is good shit."

"Told you so," Pete grinned. "Best burger joint in town bar none. Eat up good, you've got a show tonight."

Ace's tongue flicked at a rivulet of sauce that escaped his lips. "I'm putting on a show for the crowd tonight, but also for you."

"It's good that I know Boipussy's songs so well," said Pete. "It means I don't have to concentrate so hard, which means I can kick back and just let your sexy butt hypnotise me."

Ace swallowed his mouthful of burger before lurching across the table. He grabbed Pete's neck and pulled him close before slithering his tongue into his mouth. He didn't care who saw.

"Good thing we ordered the same meal," Pete laughed. They continued eating.

*

They lugged into Eternal, just as the sun began to set, and began soundcheck. Drums, guitars and vocals sounded good, but something was wrong with the bass player's rig. A direct injection into the mixing desk and some additional onstage foldback solved the problem, and they were ready to go.

They kicked back and enjoyed some beers backstage as a local support act took to the stage to warm the crowd up. The crowd began to surge. Carlos had hoped to get backstage to talk with Pete before the gig, but he was run off his feet behind the bar. Tonight was gonna be a busy night for the bar staff.

Carlos knew that Pete was here with Ace, but he had no idea yet that Pete was playing drums.

The support band finished their set, took their bows and left the stage. Boipussy had already soundchecked, so there'd only be a quick twenty minute changeover between bands. The house lights came on and the crowd stampeded to the bar for top-ups. The chick at the mixing desk took a quick piss during the break. Carlos brought a fresh, cold beer across to her as she began to prepare sound levels and lighting cues for Boipussy's performance.

Pete went to the bathroom to take a pre-gig pee. He was feeling a little nervous. Even though he'd played well this afternoon and had won the confidence of the band, it wouldn't mean anything if he let the team down during the live performance. Ace followed him.

Ace followed Pete into the bathroom and waited for him to finish up. "Hey," he said, "thank you so much for playing drums for us tonight. You'll never know how much we appreciate it." Ace checked himself. "Wait. You'll never know how much *I* appreciate it. I've had the best fucking time with you these last few nights, and I don't want it to ever end."

It was nearly time to take the stage. Ace held his buttplug up and drooled lube all over it. He handed it to Pete, who gripped it by the flared base. "I grant you the honour. Do what needs to be done."

Ace pulled his faded blue jeans down and exposed his asscrack. Pete pushed the plug in, but only partially. "How much do you want it?" Pete teased.

"Fuck, dude, don't," Ace pleaded.

"Come on, man. You want this up in your tight boipussy? Tell me how bad you want it."

"Fuck, Pete, don't play games..."

"You want it or not?"

Ace whimpered. "Fuck, Pete, I ..."

Time and again, Pete teased the fuck out of Ace's crack. He presented the plug, and just as Ace's ass backed up to swallow it, he withdrew.

"Fuck, Pete, we gotta get our asses out on stage in a second," said Ace. His boipussy dilated. "Please ... please fill me up."

Pete jammed Ace's buttplug deep into Ace's hungry crack, right down to the base. Ace moaned, feeling full. He stood up, buckled up his jeans, stretched his back and kissed his boyfriend. "You got your sticks?"

"I'm all good to go," Pete replied.

Eternal's lights dimmed and the crowd surged.

The curtains parted and the five musicians ran onto the stage.

Ace grabbed the microphone. "Good eeeevening, Atlanta!" he screamed. "How are we all feelin' tonight? Good? Hmm, fuck yeah. Awesome to see you all here tonight! Let me introduce ourselves. We're a rock band from Florida called Boipussy." He paused for a moment. "You know what a boipussy is, right?"

The crowd cheered its answer.

"It's OK if you don't, because I'm gonna show you mine a little later."

Pete clicked his sticks to count the band into "Bite My Pie," and the aural assault commenced.

From behind the bar, Carlos looked up at the stage. He couldn't believe what he was seeing -- Pete was on drums for Boipussy. His immediate concern was that Pete might've joined Boipussy without telling Carlos he was leaving Ass To Mouth, but he knew Pete wasn't that big of an asshole. There must be another reason; he just didn't know what it was. He continued pouring beers and taking cash.

Halfway through the set, Ace began to introduce everyone in the band. The guitarists and bass player each played short impromptu solos as Ace yelled out their names.

He waited for the crowd to hush. "And on the drums tonight, we've got a very special guest. Tonight's gig nearly didn't happen. Boipussy's regular drummer is in the hospital right now." Ace heard murmurs of concern ripple back from the crowd. "No, no, don't worry, everything's fine. His appendix blew up and they had to cut it out. He's resting comfortably, and the nurses on the ward are working hard to make sure his balls don't retain too much fluid. We were gonna cancel tonight, but Pete from Atlanta's very own Ass To Mouth came to the rescue and he's rockin' the drums for us tonight. Stand up, Pete!"

Pete waved sheepishly to the crowd. Carlos now knew the story. He relaxed, knowing his band still had Pete on the helldrums.

Ace continued addressing the crowd. "Pete's been gracious enough to show me around your fair city these last few days. Well, that's not strictly true. I'm sure Pete had plans to take me places, but I ruined them all. The only place I wanted to be was in Pete's bed."

The crowd hollered.

"Yeah, Pete and I are together. And I'll let you in on a little secret. Nobody in the entire fuckin' world gives better head than my boyfriend. I do my best, but Pete is truly gifted. The other day, he bet me he could make me cum in his mouth within sixty seconds, and he won."

The bass player was curious. He stepped up to his mike. "What did he win?"

"The bet was that I had to wear a buttplug all day."

"So, did you do it?" asked the bass player.

"Yeah, I did," replied Ace. "And guess what? I'm wearing it now, too!"

Ace unbuckled his belt, let his jeans fall to his ankles and turned around. He spread his cheeks, revealing the base of the fat plug buried deep in his ass. "Check out this sweet fuckin' boipussy of mine!" he screamed.

The crowd went fucking ballistic.

"OK, enough talk," Ace declared. He turned to his band. "We came here tonight to rock. So let's crank it up, Atlanta!" But Ace couldn't move freely around the stage with his jeans pooled around his feet. He had two choices -- to pull them back up, or to take them off.

He took them off. He sang the next few songs wearing nothing but a tight black t-shirt, a pair of boxer shorts, and a buttplug.

They ripped into the next song on their setlist, "Fuck Me Like You Hate Me," and Pete's double-kick drum battery pounded the audience into submission.

Two songs later, Ace had a question for the crowd. "These boxers are chafing me. Would you mind if I took them off?"