The Boys in the Band

(for my bad boy rockers)

They were pushed up and out, as far as they would go. Jenna stepped back and admired her work: her tits looked great. The bustier she’d chosen only weeks before truly accentuated her lush, 40DD breasts, creating an evil temptress out of her once angelic and pristine looks.

"You look great," Debbie chimed, entering the bathroom and grabbing a tube of lipstick.

"Thanks," Jenna smiled. "Do you think they’ll like me?"

Debbie laughed. "Honey, these musicians like anything with tits and a pulse."

The two girls giggled.

"I’ve waited for this moment forever," Jenna smiled to her knowing friend.

Debbie winked, offered up a supportive hoot, and ran out of the room to go apply her final primping touches.

* * * * *

He beckoned her closer.

"Be my date for this evening," he smiled.

His outstretched hand signaled for Jenna to come on-stage, which she nervously did. He placed her within the safe confines of the side-stage area, and returned to take his place alongside his rocking bandmates.

She watched as the girls in the front rows clamored to molest the band, hands darting over leather clad thighs and sweating flesh. Her observations were keen and when she’d later breach the subject with the band, a half-hearted laugh would come from the drummer. "I never get any love back there," he grinned.

The show was a decadent one. The lead singer spoke freely with the audience, proclaiming his love of women, drink, and song, and appealing to the youthful group to vote for the legalization of illicit substances. Jenna scanned the crowd for her missing partner-in-crime, who had remained behind when she’d accepted the band member’s invitation. She thought she spied Debbie dancing on top of the back bar once, though her vision was clouded by the stage lights, cigarette and pot smoke that weighted the club’s air and created a rusty taste in her throat.

The bassist was, indeed, as beautiful in person as he’d been in Jenna’s fantasies and magazine clippings. She watched as his lean body moved fluidly across the stage, his hair glistening with sweat but still perfect in an unnaturally rugged sense. The green of his eyes glinted, reflecting his smile in Jenna’s direction and causing many of her fellow females to swoon. She wasn’t sure she had liked this coquettish group when she’d first been placed alongside them in this side area, though now she knew for sure they were her competition; she could not and would not turn to grimace at them, though her innermost devilish longings urged her to smack the plastic blonde to her left for her incessant groping of the band’s guitarist. The blonde’s hair flailing approach to flirting with the man was enough to send Jenna into a near rage, every ounce of her body fighting to keep her hands to herself and not take out the offending fan.

As the band exited the stage, Jenna’s heart began to race. She quickly forgot the offending blonde and fluffed her hair quickly, though she later realized it was pointless to primp: she’d already won her man.

"I’ll be with you in a second," he smiled as he passed.

Jenna frowned, though she knew a second was little to ask. Her eyes trailed him through the backstage enclosure, though her figure remained in place. He strolled casually past waiting fans, friends, and females, and paused outside the door to an offset room. The smile she’d fantasized about for years appeared, he laughed, and grabbed an offered beer. His adam’s apple bobbed slowly as he slammed back the beverage, sweat beading on his temples. He threw the empty can at someone in the tiny room, and pivoted to glance in Jenna’s direction.

A few strides returned him to her side, and she felt her heart begin to race again, her legs go numb.

"Hi, I’m Jerry," he grinned.

"I know," she giggled, "I’m Jenna."

Jerry surveyed the area around them, smiling to a few girls that stood off to Jenna’s right, giggling about the band members and whispering giddy epithets.

"Good show tonight," he winked. "Have you seen us before?"

"Never," Jenna smiled. "It was awesome! I love you guys."

Jerry laughed.

"What’s so funny?" Jenna heard herself ask, though she was unsure how she’d gotten so bold.

He glanced at her, their eyes locking at a mutual point. "I can’t figure you out."

"Figure me out?" she studdered, repeating the words as if he’d stated the theory of relativity.

"Yeah, you know, innocent looking girl comes to a gig, rocks out like a true groupie in the front row. Band member makes her an offer and she accepts."

"Was I not supposed to accept?" she smiled questioningly, teasingly.

"I’m just glad you did," he smiled and turned toward a prodding fan.

"I have to sign some autographs, but I’d like to see you later...on the bus," Jerry smiled warmly.

Jenna felt a pulse of heat go down her spine, she turned, glanced over her shoulder, and mouthed to him, "I’ll see you later."

* * * * *

"Are you here alone?" he smiled.

The grin was inviting, friendly; like the smile that would paint the face of a childhood accomplice.

"I’m waiting for someone," Jenna smiled.

The man sat, staring at Jenna as she sipped her drink, sending a tingling down her spine. She wasn’t sure if she was a bit nervous or a bit excited, but all the same, she kept her guard.

"You come to see the band?" he asked.

"Yeah, they were great, weren’t they?"

Jenna relaxed a bit, happy to have a conversation to take advantage of rather than be gawked at by the stranger.

"I’m glad you thought we were," he chuckled. "I’m the drummer, Danny."

His outstretched hand reassured Jenna that he meant no harm. She stared easily into his warm eyes, noticing their gleam and friendly glow. She liked him. It was absurd, she knew, after knowing someone all of five minutes, but this was someone she could trust.

She took the hand and laughed. "I’m sorry, I’m new to all of this. I’m Jenna."

"Well, Jenna, it’s nice to meet you," Danny smiled and turned to the male on his right.

She watched as he signed autographs naturally and graciously, then summoned the bartender to order himself a Jack and coke.

"So, are you from around here?" Danny questioned, drumming up conversation.

"I live in Barkersville," she smiled, then, realizing he likely did not know the area, added, "It’s about 45 minutes south of here."

"Aha, so you know the area."

"I guess so," she laughed. "I’m not good with directions, though."

"Darn, I was going to ask you where someone can get something to eat around here," he answered, glancing off toward the clock that hung on the wall over the beer fridge.

"That I can answer," she giggled. "There’s a 24-hour restaurant down the block from here."

Danny thanked her graciously, then ran off to some unknown destination. When he returned, Jerry was with him and the pair had both donned matching leather jackets.

"Let’s go," Jerry smiled.

"Where?" Jenna inquired.

"To get something to eat? Danny said you’d give us a ride."

Jenna laughed. "I’ll give you a ride," she offered, smirking toward the mentioned male for his shrewdness.

* * * * *

Jerry chewed, swallowing roughly. "Your first show, huh?"

"Yeah, and I’m glad I came," she smiled, twirling her straw in her drink.

"You liked the show, right?" Danny questioned, hoping the pair wasn’t biding time with someone they’d just offended, auditorilly.

"Of course," Jenna laughed. "How could you not?"

The men laughed, chowing down on their meals as though they’d gone without for weeks.

"What’s it like being in a different city every night?" the girl inquired, her eyes transfixed on the swimming ice cubes.

"It’s difficult sometimes," Jerry admitted. "Being away from your family and friends back home."

"I miss my dogs," the drummer quipped.

Jenna laughed.

"You don’t believe me? I’m serious," he pleaded to her with an amused look in his eyes.

"You miss your wife, your house, your kids," Jerry added, ignoring his companions.

Jenna paused, had he said his wife and kids?

"You have a wife and kids?" she asked.

"A kid," Danny corrected.

Jerry frowned. "I guess the cat’s out of the bag, huh?"

Jenna laughed, appreciative of his honesty and touched that he’d miss his family enough to mention them to an absolute stranger. She glanced curiously at his ring finger, searching for the obligatory gold band. It wasn’t there.

"My wife and I are separated," he grimaced. "Makes things hard cause every time I’m away from home, it’s less time we have to work on things."

Jenna smiled comfortingly.

"I miss my son most of all," he added, thoughtfully.

"What’s he look like?" Jenna asked.

"He’s about two feet tall, with blackish fur and a big shaggy tail," Danny laughed. "Oh, you mean HIS son?"

Jenna giggled.

"I have a picture," Jerry laughed, and handed her his wallet.

The boy depicted in the photo was a miniature version of his father, right down to his sparkling emerald irises.

"He’s beautiful," Jenna smiled sincerely.

"Thank you," Jerry beamed. "I miss him immensely."

* * * * *

"Think I can make my way through the whole band?" Debbie asked on an up-stroke.

The reclined guitarist laughed. "Would you want to?"

Debbie didn’t answer, she had her mouth full.

Mike tapped her on the shoulder and she raised up, questioningly. As his orgasm peaked and his semen shot onto his stomach, she smiled and offered a thank you for the warning.

"No, thank you," he grinned lasciviously. "With a mouth like that, I’ll bet you can make it through the band and then some."

She smiled.

"Who’s next then?" she grinned.

Mike laughed and pulled his shirt back over his head.

"You’re on your own, kid."

He disappeared from his bunk, and rejoined the celebration up-front.

Debbie smirked.

Sure, sure, love and leave

, she thought.

* * * * *

The bus was calm. Sure, a band member and some underage groupie would sneak away now and then, but the Roman orgy-esque scenarios that Jenna had imagined were curiously absent. She sat lodged in the corner of an overstuffed sofa, observing the passersby, party-goers, drunkards, and Jerry’s hat fashion show. He ran back and forth- from front lounge to his bunk- showing the assembled group of flirty women every hat he owned, relishing their adorations and the occasional blonde squeaking, "Oh, Jerry, you’re so cute!".

As the night winded to a close, the bus’ inhabitants dwindled down to a mere few and the band members began to retire to their bunks. Jenna yawned and motioned to Debbie that it was nearing the witching hour. As the two girls’ eyes met, Jerry placed himself alongside Jenna and took her hand gently into his.

"You will come to the show tomorrow, right?" his eyes beamed, longingly.

"Well...." she sighed.

"Please?" he begged. When he got down on one knee and smiled into her eyes, Jenna knew what her answer had to be.

"I’ll give you my room at the hotel- It’s all I know about the gig. We can meet there in the afternoon, and I can treat you to dinner for making the drive," he smiled, assuringly.

Debbie was bopping around behind Jerry’s shoulders so that Jenna had to fight from dying laughing at her friend’s glee.

"I shall see you tomorrow then, Jerry," Jenna beamed.

"Goodnight sweetheart," he smiled. "Get home safe."

He hugged Jenna softly, kissing her cheek and whispering in her ear, "Thank you for everything." When Jenna thought her knees would give and her body would crumble to the ground, he pulled away and shook Debbie’s hand, smiling and thanking her for her appearance, as well.

* * * * *

She meandered around the foreign halls, glancing infrequently at room numbers and doors unknown to her. The card he had quickly scribbled offered only one clue to her destination, a sloppy scroll announcing: "Clarke Inn, Room #112".

Debbie trailed behind her, made up to look like a Maybelline ad, flouncing about the halls as though she were about to entertain at a bawdy event. "Are we going in the right direction?" she meowed, giggling and waving to a group of men in uniforms that Jenna could not distinguish.

"If I knew that, then we wouldn’t be worried, would we?" Jenna spat, angry at Debbie’s unsympathetic impatience when her insides were churning a hole through her stomach lining.

In her momentary aggravation, Jenna didn’t see him step out of his hotel room and turn and walk right into her.

"I’m so sorry," Jerry laughed, extending his hand to steady her.

"Jerry, thank god," Jenna smiled. "We were just saying we weren’t sure if we were heading right."

Jerry smiled sympathetically, then teased, "Jenna, there’s only 115 rooms in this hotel. You could not have possibly missed the room."

Debbie began to chuckle, but turned her back on the couple to stop from ruining their moment.

"I’m glad you came."

Jenna hugged the male, uttering softly, "Me too."

Debbie snuck away as the pair embraced, knowing that she’d easily reunite with her friend later that afternoon.

* * * * *

"I have a special request," the singer smirked.

Debbie raised herself up, propping her cheek on her elbow, returning the blonde’s sexy grin.

"I have many special talents, my dear."

"Will you meet me in the back lounge later tonight?"

"That’s not all that special," Debbie chided.

The singer grimaced. "This was too rushed, I want to get to know you better," he offered.

Debbie heard his bandmate chuckle.

"Here, use this," he offered and handed Debbie a laminate with an attached bus key. "Meet me at 9PM."

Debbie giggled as she placed the laminate around her neck, promising to meet the singer for a rendezvous later that night. She momentarily wondered about her friend and the girls whereabouts, but as she began to dress, the thought slipped easily from her clouded mind.

* * * * *

"I want you," she cooed, purring under his gentle touch.

"In your ass," he whispered.

Her purring ceased and she turned to glance into his soft green eyes. "Excuse me?" she uttered stupidly.

"I want to put it in your ass," he stated firmly, matter of factly.

"I’m not into that," she frowned.

She felt his hand lift from her breast, his body pulling away from hers.

"I have to go."

"Because of this?" she pleaded.

The room was silent; an uncomfortable, unfriendly silence. Debbie’s heart raced, pounding against the wall of her chest. Her blood coursed rapidly through her veins, sweat pulsed on her breast.

"If that’s what you want...." Debbie’s voice trailed off into the alien darkness.

His eyes transfixed on hers, his hand reaching toward her denim waistband.

"Are you sure?" he glowed.

Debbie didn’t answer but moved her petite frame closer to his, trailing her hand down his chest softly as she moved.

"Just be gentle," she winked, bringing the blood rushing to his crotch.

* * * * *

The show that night did not disappoint the pair of travelers. The men forged themselves head long into a two hour set, scarily reminiscent of the night before though Debbie was finally able to watch from the side stage vantage point.

Her eyes hungrily coursed over the bodies of the two musicians that she’d only hours before been flesh-to-flesh with. She watched as the guitarist’s hips swiveled in a solo sexual tango, her memories racing to her moments shared in his bunk, his cock in her mouth, his hands in her hair. Her eyes slowly scanned the stage, moving away from her first lover, and locking in on her second conquest. His blonde locks flowed behind him as he ran from stage left to stage right, the crowd’s glances locked on his flawless frame, as well. She vaguely glanced him staring in her direction, her heart raced, and then, he jumped into the crowd and their gaze was broken.

The remainder of the show was high octane and fulfilling beyond belief for Debbie. Jenna sat silently in a chair, glancing around to keep tabs on Jerry now and then, though mostly concerned with the group of female gropers in the front rows, whose stares were beginning to dig into her self-confidence.

Debbie saw her friend’s greatest relief come when the band waved goodnight to their fans, and walked offstage. Jenna’s man came straight to her, and they met in a warm embrace that seemed to erase all of Jenna’s earlier fears. Debbie smiled and snuck off to find herself some more trouble.

* * * * *

"What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?" he smiled.

"How do you know what kind of a girl I am?" Debbie argued.

"It’s a bad line, I know," he laughed, his eyes beaming his embarrassment across the void between them.

Debbie took a sip of her rum, glancing the male up and down slowly, languidly. "What’s a guy like you need lines for anyway?" she asked.

The bar patron turned from his drink and smirked at her. "I suppose I should have given them up years ago, huh?" he laughed.

His eyes were a faint brown, gentle, almost childlike. His thick eyebrows were crooked, creating a sexy grin and a boyish charm that made him look far younger than his years.

Debbie grinned. "You’re the new recruit, right?"

"Is that all I am?" he questioned.

"The new drummer?" she jibed.

"I do have a name, you know."

"Why are you making this so hard?"

"Nothing’s hard yet," he winked.

Debbie giggled. "Your name, what is it?"

"She wants me to surrender myself easily," he announced to no one in particular. "Such personal information and she offers nothing in return."

"Yeah, yeah, Romeo," Debbie laughed.

"It’s not Romeo, guess again" he winked.

"Hmm..." Debbie met the challenge, pondering her next guess.

"You look like an all-American boy," she teased, tossing her hair to the side. "Michael?"

"Nope."

"James?"

"Na-uh."

"David?"

He sipped his drink. "Close, but no cigar, my queen."

"David, David...What’s close to David?" she asked, though not really to him.

"How about Danny?"

"Danny?"

"Sure, you can call me that," he laughed. "But what do I call you?"

"I prefer to be referred to as ‘Your Highness’, though Queen Debbie works, too."

"You gave that away so easily," he quipped.

"What can I say, I’m easy," she smirked, turning her stool around playfully and spinning into his leg.

The two conversed over several rounds of drinks, splitting the immense bill when they were finally sobered enough to find their wallets and remember their room numbers. Walking down the corridor that housed their eerily close lodgings, Danny turned to Debbie and paused in his tracks.

"Would you like to come inside?" he asked, as though he were a tender child inviting his first crush over for cookies and milk.

"I’d like that," Debbie stated without hesitation.

* * * * *

The room began to spin and tilt, as if she were on a carnival ride though she knew she was sitting comfortably on a stationary seat.

"I don’t feel so good," Jenna frowned, glancing over to where Jerry was sitting.

"Are you okay?" Jerry asked, hopping up and sitting alongside her, placing his hand in hers for assurance.

"I’m not sure," she sighed, "The room feels like it’s spinning."

"Let’s take you to lay down," Jerry offered, rising and keeping his hand locked tightly around hers.

Jerry took her hand and lead her to the back lounge. As she walked through the dusty blue curtain that marked the onset of the band’s sleeping quarters, Jenna thought she heard some of the guys snickering up front.

"I really feel sick," Jenna whined.

"Can you walk? Do you need me to carry you?"

Jerry looked concerned.

She felt him half carry, half drag her into the room in the back area of the tour bus. It was well illuminated, and she thought she made out a video game being played on the giant screen tv.

"Everybody get out," Jerry demanded.

Techs scurried to put game controllers away, and girls stashed dime bags in their purses as the back area slowly began to filter toward the front. Jenna wasn’t sorry to see them go, nor did she regret having time alone with Jerry.