Authors Note- I like to keep on my feet with writing and test my ability, so this one is different to the others I plan on writing. It's a little bit rough and made for a quick hot release. Enjoy :)
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Some never got to feel "The feeling" and I felt sorry for them, but only slightly. I didn't care much about the little people. But I did love my fans, and I craved their devotion like a drug. That was the feeling. The feeling of undying love and worship from crowds of people, thousands, millions even. One smile and they could cry, one touch and they would beg for me. I was larger than life. It was a high; it was the best drug in the world.
I stood on stage; my black hair surrounded my face in gloriously styled messy curls and worked down my back to my hips. Sweat covered my brow and my upper lip, making my face shine. My pale skin glowed with it, and made my red lips and painted eyes look stark. A badass snow white, they called me. And I preened in the image, bathed in it. I wore a large red bow amidst my hair, and a long white cape behind me, lined with red. I only ever wore black leather on stage, except my accessories. The tight black corset pushed up my large round breasts, and the black leather skirt framed my legs and made everyone drool with the thoughts of sex. I wore my black stiletto heeled, thigh high boots. Gorgeous, if I do say so myself.
The crowd roared and reached onto the stage, reaching for my glow, for my air, for my anything. I stepped close to them and reached out, brushing a few clutching hands with my long fingertips and held the microphone to my lips, innocently thanking the audience. I painted the perfect image of a rock god. Sex on legs, and sweet to my fans; not likely, I liked to hear them beg for me. They roared and cheered for me, begging for an encore. I relented, mainly because my manager tells me to do one; two tops encores for every show. Sometimes I like to make them sweat, see how long they will cheer before returning to the stage to glow once more and release my voice into the stadium.
The best thing about being a Rock God wasn't the money, or the fame, or the paparazzi. It was most definitely the fans kneeling at my feet for a taste of my sweet pussy. They fantasized over it, and few were very lucky to get it. After every stage I stopped a few going home and invited them back to my room for a "talk". I loved seeing how many girls I could have naked and bent over. No doubt it could be in the thousands, but I limited myself. I didn't want to exhaust myself. And if I gave it to too many, they wouldn't beg as hard as they did. As I left the stage for the final time one of the stage assistance rushed up to wipe my forehead. I took the cloth from her and strut away, wiping myself down and making sure my makeup was still flawless.
I walked out into the sectioned off area, just beyond the stream of people walking past, a line of bodyguards blocked their view of me. I ducked around the muscled bulk and waited in the shadows until the crowd thinned. I stepped out into view and strutted over to the crowd. It wasn't long before they swarmed me. But they weren't faster than the guards, and the security held back the bulk. I sighed, put a fake smile on my face and signed the things shoved at me with a fountain pen I always kept on me. It made slicing the flesh they offered to me to sign that much more fun. The fine tip of the pen often left tiny cuts, depending on how hard I pushed. My mood and the vibe of the person decided how hard I pierced them. Those who were smart offered me hats and CDs and books. After the touching and screaming and begs for autographs had slowed down, I grabbed a few women from the crowd and offered them a drink in my room. Of course they almost died with the offer. The offer of drinks and potentially sex from Rock Goddess Lexi McWilliam, lead singer and guitarist of The Takedown, few refused that.
I pulled two black haired Goths and one flaming red head backstage with me, swaying down the hall with a smirk. I pushed open the door and they walked inside cautiously, looking like they might break something. I chuckled at them. Little people were amusing, they were so timid. I poured a few hard drinks and sat on the couch, nursing my cup. I waved them down into the couch opposite me and made boring small talk. Goth one was named Rebecca and Goth two was name Sammie. I turned to the red head, waiting for her; she blushed and stuttered over her words, saying her name was Steph. I tasted the name on my lips and decided she was my favourite. Her shyness was alluring to the predator in me.
I finished my drink and stared at the girls with a smirk, "So, want to fuck?" I said bluntly, waiting for their answers.
Immediately they started undressing and crouched at my feet. I lifted my boots and allowed the two Goths to take off my shoes as Steph moved onto the couch beside me. Her alabaster skin shone in the bright lights and her pink nipples stood out on her large breasts. I loved large breasts. She leaned in and I grinned, pulling her face roughly to mine. My lips parted around my trademark fangs, surgically glued to my real teeth. I smiled to her and latched my lips to hers. She moaned and melted, submitting to me. I felt my toes being sucked on as the goth twins worked up my legs and tugged off my panties. I was briefly distracted as I looked down at their bodies. Rebecca had smaller breasts, topped with dark red nipples and a small patch of pubic hair covering her goodies while Sam had pendulous breasts with faded pink pierced nipples. I smiled at her bare pussy before looking back at Steph and attacking her lips with my skilled mouth. She held her hand in my hair as the goth twins licked and sucked my thighs.
