0 comments/ 13611 views/ 6 favorites After The Gig By: Vegas Neon Another Saturday night, another gig. The bar was packed tonight. It was actually a good show. The band was tight, and no one got falling down drunk this time. The crowd was really into it too. They were singing along with every song. Almost every chair had a butt in it, and you couldn't fit another person on the dance floor with a shoe horn, it was that packed. But, now the show was over and the crowd was thinning out. Even the band had taken off. Either leaving with their significant others or finding their regular weekend groupies. All that is, except the drummer. He was still on stage tearing down his gear. Every weekend it was the same. He ended up alone at the end of the night, breaking down his kit. "Hey, where'd everybody go? Did they just leave ya here alone?" Jerry, the owner of the bar, asked as he stepped up onto the stage. The drummer kind of chuckled as he unhooked the pedal from his kick drum. "Jerry, we have this same conversation every month we play here. I'm pretty sure you know the answer to that question." "Well you never know," Jerry replied. "One of these times, it may turn out different." "Well Jer, five years of being here at the end of the night, alone, says different...but, yeah, who knows," the drummer retorted. Jerry laughed at the comeback. "Actually, I was wondering if you could do me a small favor?" "Sure," answered the drummer. "What do ya need?" "Well, my parents' anniversary is tomorrow, and I have to be over there early for the party. So, I was wondering if you could possibly close up for me when you're done here, so I can go home and get some sack time before the party?" the owner finally got around to asking. "Sure, man. Shouldn't be a problem. I don't have anywhere special to be tonight anyway," said the drummer as Jerry tossed him the keys. "Thanks man, I owe you one." He heard Jerry say, as the owner closed the door behind himself on his way out. Alone again, the drummer started taking the cymbals down off their stands, and removing the drums from their rack mounts. Just as he was stacking his drums in the corner, he was startled by a voice from behind. "You were great tonight." The drummer quickly spun around, somewhat startled, not knowing what to expect, being alone all of five minutes ago. He was more than a little surprised to find it was a girl. No scratch that. This was a woman. Five foot, five inches tall, long blonde hair, standing there in a soft pink pullover sweater, a black leather skirt that was slit up the side, black stockings, and heels that were tied all the way up her calves with ribbons. She was jaw-dropping gorgeous. The drummer felt more than a little silly now, about performing his 'Jackie Chan, I'm going to kick your ass if you mess with me!' spin move, as a result from the start this lovely creature's voice gave him. But then he came back down to earth. He figured she was probably there to ask about the guitarist or the singer. That's the way it always was. The guitarist and singer made off with all the women. You see, there were only two kinds of people who talked to the drummer before, during, or after the gigs. The first type was the guys, (either drunk or sober) telling him they were drummers also, how many years of experience they'd had, how many bands they'd been in, and inevitably asking if they themselves could get up and play. And then there was the second type, the girls who came up to him, talked to him for five or ten minutes, flattering him about his playing, telling him how good the band sounds, asking where and when their next gig was, then suddenly, BAM, they hit him with a right cross by asking if either the guitarist or singer were single, and then, POW, they finish him off with a upper cut, by asking if he could possibly introduce them to either one of the other musicians. It was a scenario that was played out, it seemed, a thousand times before. And, he expected tonight to be a thousand and one. "Thanks," He finally got around to responding. "But, I'm going to just save us both a lot of time and let you know now the singer and guitarist are already gone for the night. I'm afraid I'm the only one here." She flashed a sideways smile, giggled a bit and told him, "Well that's good because I'm not here to see either one of them. Actually, I'm here to see you." He paused just a moment waiting either for the punch line, or making sure he heard her right. "Me? You're here to see me?" "Yes," she replied. "You sound so surprised." He noticed her with a flattered look on her face, tracing little circles on the floor with her foot. "Well, actually I am." He chuckled and asked, "How'd you know I'd be here?" "I've been a fan of the band since the beginning. And, well...you're always the last one left. So, I just knew you'd be here." she answered, with that sideways smile still on her lips. "I sat in the back of the bar till everyone was gone, and I knew I'd get a chance to catch you alone." 'OK, this doesn't happen.' he thought. 'And if it does, it usually starts out with "Dear Penthouse, You won't believe this, I always thought those letters people wrote were fake...That is, until last night."' And yet, this blonde goddess was standing there in front of him, telling him that she was here to see...well, him. "Wow, I'm really flattered," he managed to finally respond. "Can I get you a drink or something?" She thought about it for a second. "Yeah, I could go for a Bud Lite. But the owner's gone, is that going to be to be all right? I mean, I don't want you to get into trouble or anything." "Believe me, it's not going to be any trouble at all," he assured her. "I'm the only one in the band who doesn't drink, and the rest of the guys drink so much, New York wino's go 'Damn, you guys drink a lot!' So, I'm sure me giving you a Bud Lite out of the cooler isn't going to cause any problems. Besides, the owner owes me one for closing for him tonight. If it comes down to it, I'll just call in that favor." He sat her on the stool at the far end, and walked around behind the bar to the cooler to get her drink. He opened the beer, and set it on a napkin with the bar's logo printed on it, in front of her, then came back around and sat on the stool next to her. "So, you've been a fan of ours since the beginning?" He asked her as she set the beer back down on the napkin after taking her first drink. "Yes, I have," she answered. "I was at your first gig when you played at that other bar across the street. I've been there through your line-up changes, like when your original bass player quit, and when your other guitarist got married, and his wife made him leave the group." He was stunned, and impressed. She wasn't lying. If she knew all that stuff, she had been around since the beginning. "I'm flattered you like the band and the music so much you've stuck with us all these years," the drummer thanked her. "Well," she started. "The band and the music are ok...but it's not the reason I've been coming back all this time. I kind of have a thing for the drummer." He noticed her running her fingers up and down the side of the beer can, as she licked her lips. He blushed and smiled. "Really?" He chuckled "Well now I really am flattered. But, why haven't you done anything about this before? Five years is a really long time." Now it was her turn to blush. "Well, I just didn't feel the time was right until now. That, and I'm kind of fulfilling a fantasy of mine." She finally revealed. "Oh?" he asked, even more intrigued. "Tell me about it." She took another drink, as if drawing courage from the twelve ounce can. "Ok, it starts with us alone, together in a bar after you finished playing a show. Sitting and talking at first, then things slowly progressing from there." Her voice softend but becoming more deliberate as she turned on the stool a bit to face him. "Alright, we're sitting here, alone, in a bar, I just finished playing a show, and we're talking. What's next?" "Then," she started again after a short pause. "You usually take my face in you're your hands, and slowly, deeply, and passionately kiss me." "You mean like this?" he asked as he gently cupped her face in his hands. He then leaned over closer to her, and gave her a couple soft pecks on her warm, flush cheeks, before caressing her soft, red lips with his. Then, tenderly he slipped his tongue past her lips, and it began a playful dual with hers. He slowly pulled back after a couple more quick kisses to her nose. "Now what?" She softly sighed, cleared her throat, and continued. "This is the part, where I usually notice how, uh, excited and aroused I am." He kissed her lips again and asked, "Well, are you?" She locked her eyes on his, took his hand in hers and placed it under her skirt. To his surprise and own excitement, he discovered she wasn't wearing any panties. She ran his fingers slowly up and down her slit, coating them lightly with her juices, then bringing them back out to show him. "What do you think?" she asked, before she licked her sweetness off of them. "Uhhm...yeah, I think you're quite excited." he answered as he kissed her again. "What happens next?" She smiled, and put her hands on his shoulders as she gently nudged and pushed him down to his knees, in front of her. He looked up into her eyes, which seemed to be saying 'You know what's next'. He looked back down and noticed she'd pulled her skirt up to her waist, exposing her bright pink, shaved pussy to him. And yes, he knew exactly what was next. Getting as close as he possibly could without touching it, he began breathing it in deeply. She could feel his hot breath on her womanhood, and it made her sigh. He finally reached up and began running his fingers up and down her lips again just like before. He then gently pulled her lips apart and ran his tongue right up the middle. Softly kissing her clit when he reached the top. He looked up at her again as he gently slid his left index finger into her pussy. She inhaled sharply, and began to run her fingers through his hair. "Is this how you pictured it happening?" he asked, really wanting to please her. She pulled him back to her and whispered, "Yes, please don't stop." He ran his tongue up the left side of her clitoris, down the right side, then gave it a few quick pecks before he sucked it between his lips, swirling his tongue over it. Then, adding another finger, he began to slowly pick up speed, sliding them in and out of her. He began to feel her twitch and squirm on the stool as he snaked his tongue down, licking his fingers each time they slid out of her pussy, and back in to get another coating of her honey. Her lips began to grip his fingers tighter and tighter, with each thrust. As he ran his tongue back up to her clit, she gasped, grabbing him by the back of the head, grasping his head with her thighs pressing against his ears. "YYEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS!!!" she moaned. "I'm cumming....I'm cumMMMING!!!" But that didn't make him stop. His fingers were now a blur of motion, pistoning in and out, as he looked up at her beautiful face as she came. Almost like she was crying and laughing at the same time, with a couple tears running down her cheeks. He removed his fingers from her soaking lips, and brought them to his mouth tasting her once again, as he stood up. He kissed the tears as they rolled down her face. Then, running his tongue to her ear, he softly kissed her lobe, and whispered, "Now what?" She turned her head and kissed his lips, tasting herself on them, then she licked her way to his ear. "Your turn." She answered gently biting his earlobe. She pushed the drummer back onto the barstool, while pulling his shirt over his head. She tossed it aside, onto the floor, as he kicked his shoes off. He took her in his arms and began to deeply kiss her again. He could feel the softness of her sweater against his skin as their tongues wrapping around each other like two snakes fighting to the death. She kissed her way down his neck, biting it slightly. Then she trailed down to his chest, licking and nibbling his nipples, giggling when they got hard. She softly ran her tongue down his stomach, to the waistband of his denim shorts, as she dropped to her knees. Reaching out slowly, she ran the palm of her right hand up and down the crotch of the shorts, before undoing the button at the top, and sliding down the zipper. She hooked her fingers over the waistband of both the Levi short pants, and the white Haynes briefs beneath them, and slowly pulled them down to his ankles, and totally off. His cock was already hard and throbbing, the tip covered with pre-cum, from the excitement he felt from the tongue-lashing he just gave her a few short minutes ago. She reached up and gently wrapped her fingers around the shaft, and brought the glistening head down to her awaiting tongue. Slowly she swirled it from the underside, to the top, around to the front, where she savored the taste of the excitement she gave him. Her right hand now gently pumped up and down, and she heard a slight moan escape his lips. She kissed his left thigh as her thumb rubbed circles against the underside of the head. She looked up into his eyes, as she finally took his cock into her mouth. Sucking in her cheeks he could feel the sides of them against his shaft, and he couldn't believe the pleasure the heat from her tongue against the most sensitive part of his being was causing. Never breaking eye contact, she continued her oral assault, by holding him by the base of his penis and slapping the underside of the head against her tongue. Then going right back deep-throating, and stroking his throbbing member. She began to feel him tense, and quiver with each lick and stroke her tongue and fingers provided, and she knew he was close. But neither of them really wanted that. Not just yet. She kissed her way back up his stomach, his chest, his neck, and back to his lips, still softly stroking him, up and down. She asked him if he was ready for the next part, and he replied in the affirmative. With that she slowly slid the pink sweater over her head, dropping it on the floor next to his shirt. Then unhooking her white lacy bra and seductively sliding it down off her breasts, which she now hid with her arms, before lowering them, revealing her breasts to him in all their glory. They were beautiful. Soft but firm. Large but not obnoxious. And definitely real. Light pink areolas surrounded hard, pencil-eraser-sized nipples. He gently cupped them and sucked the right nipple just like he had sucked her clit. She moaned and pulled him to her breast, as his tongue found it's way into her cleavage. "It's time," she whispered to him, as she turned away, and leaned over the bar. She raised her skirt to him again, this time from the back. He came up behind her, took his cock into his hand, slowly started to run the tip of it up and down her lips, teasing her a bit before finally sliding himself into her. He could hear her exhale heavily as he entered. Soon they had a slow rhythm going. She'd slide back to meet his incoming thrust. He could feel her lips gently squeezing him each time he retracted. It felt so good. He lay flat against her back, both of them leaning on the bar. He could feel her warm skin against his chest as he licked her shoulders, and whispered into her ear how much he wanted her, and how good it felt to be inside her. His right hand reached out, taking and holding hers, his left reaching around to rub her clit, finding her left hand was already there. They compromised. He rubbed the right side, she the left. Every once in a while meeting and rubbing the top together. All the while her juices covered and lubricated each of his strokes into her. Faster, and faster. He began to feel her knees slowly give under all the excitement. Reluctantly he withdrew. He took her over to a nearby booth, and laid her down on her back. Hovering over her, his long hair dangling down in her face, he took her hand and placed it on his manhood, which she guided right back into her wet pussy. He didn't waste any time this round. No starting slowly, and working up to it. His pace was fast from the start. He leaned up placing her right leg on his shoulder, and began to lick and kiss her calf over the black stocking covering it. Looking down at her, she was looking up watching him, with lust filled eyes. Taking the thumb of his right hand he began to rub her engorged clitoris. This got a response as she moaned loudly, with a gurgling-like growl. Quickly he removed himself, and began to rub the underside of the head of his cock on her joy button. Over and over again. She was biting her bottom lip to keep from screaming out in ecstacy, but it was too much. "Oh yes, please, fuck me!" She cried. He drove his cock right back between her swollen lips. But it was all starting to add up. Her gorgeous face, the taste of her still on his lips, the sounds of her moans, her dirty talk, the sound of him sliding in and out of her, and the feel of her soft, wet lips engulfing him, was just too much to handle. He leaned against her and whispered into her ear that he was about to explode. And that's all it took for her. With those words, she convulsed under him, in an almost epileptic orgasm, crying out, "Yes, yes, cum for me baby, CUM FOR ME!" Then she bit his shoulder. He kissed her, and asked her where she wanted it to happen. Still in the throws of her own climax, she moaned, she wanted it on her tits. Pulling out he hopped up on the seat of the booth and straddled her waist. Her right hand reached up and quickly started stroking his throbbing cock. He froze up, and fell silent, as the dam burst. Sending loads of hot, white cream all over her breasts. He slowly started to ease back out of his ecstasy induced fog, and loosen up, as he lay down against her again. Kissing her deeply while she still milked him with long, soft strokes. As he continued to kiss her, he couldn't help wondering how the fantasy ended. "So, how does this fantasy of yours finally end?" he asked. She looked at him sweetly and kissed his nose. "With a repeat performance next week, after the gig." They got dressed, and said goodnight with a long, deep kiss at the door on their way out. The next evening the drummer returned to the bar to drop Jerry's keys back off. But much to his surprise, the door was unlocked and Jerry was already inside sweeping up. He stopped his sweeping when he saw his visitor walk in. "Hey, how'd you get in here if I had your keys?" asked the drummer as he tossed the keys back to Jerry. "Do you think that's the only set that I have?" laughed Jerry, as he motioned for the drummer to come sit at the bar. "How was your parents' party?" "Pretty good." Jerry replied. "You know, same ol' stuff. Cake, family, cards, gifts. And, uuhhmm, speaking of gifts, I got one for you." The drummer wondered what it could be, as the owner of the bar made his way into the back office. Maybe he was going to pay him for closing up last night. Jerry came back out, and lay a VHS videocassette down on the bar in front of the drummer. "Here you go, I thought you might like this." Jerry said with a coy smile. Confused the drummer asked, "Uh, what's this?" Jerry pointed up to the front of the bar. "You see that surveillance camera above the stage?" The drummer nodded silently. "Well, it tapes everything that happens in this bar. That little tape you got right there, is from last night." The drummer blushed a bright red, and thought this was the end of his band playing here for Jerry. But to his surprise, Jerry started laughing, and all he could get out as he wiped the bar was, "See, I told you. ...You never know." After the Gig The show went off alright, as much as shows can go alright. Yeah, Jason fucked up the bridge in "Alien Piss," but, otherwise, things went off well. The show wasn't the hard part. The hard part, for Ricky, was not that they only earned seventy bucks for the gig, or that they suffered from a lack of booze. It wasn't that he hadn't pulled off his solos, and it wasn't that he was playing in a dive bar, again. It was the two chicks, one a buxom brunette with a mesmerizing round ass, the other a cute, petite blonde with a smooth stomach and back dimples peeking out from under her short blouse, who had showed up right before the last two songs. By their late appearance, it seemed they didn't give a shit about the show, but they pushed their way to the front of the audience anyways and wanted to dance in a way that waved their beautifully displayed tits right in front of him. The hard part was reconciling his intent to disdain their behavior with his more pressing desire to fuck the shit out of them. In a way, it wasn't even the girls themselves; it was the ideal, eating into his mind, from the moment he noticed them shaking seductively in front of him. The rock 'n' roll ideal of playing good music and being inundated with amazing new pussy every night seeped into his mind as his eyes followed the lines of peeping panties, bulging cleavage, and seductive smiles. As Ricky's band finished their set and pulled their gear aside to let the next band set up, Ricky watched the two, out of the corner of his eye, wander over to refresh their drinks. The brunette was shapely, to say the least. Her large breasts were barely restrained by a red halter top that tapered into her thin waist and showed an inch of skin above jeans that stretched tightly over her hips and round, beautiful ass. Her luxurious mane of hair flowed well down her back in soft-looking waves, almost completely obscuring a small winged tattoo of some sort on her right shoulder. She was tall for a woman, and had a face that was at once pretty and inviting. The blonde was probably three or four inches shorter, and her small breasts were obviously pushed way up to demonstrate some cleavage in the white button-down blouse she wore, which would break with her skirt and show off the smooth skin underneath as she moved. Her grey pleated skirt was just short enough to make anyone looking gasp in anticipation any time she bent over, even slightly. Her blonde hair fell past her shoulder to teasingly cover her eye, and as she pushed it back she revealed the sharp, striking cheekbones of a model. As he put his guitar in its case, he got a good long look at the brunette - her feet on the rail as she bent over the bar, with her skin-tight jeans stretching over a perfect heart-shaped ass - and felt his pants begin to tighten. Goddamn skinny jeans! he thought to himself. Baxter just had to demand that we take on that rock 'n' roll look, and now look where it's getting me; on stage with a boner wedged into pants three sizes too small. He had to think of something else. He peeled his eyes off of the luscious ass and concentrated on the work at hand, making sure to walk back towards his amp before he would have to turn towards the audience again. His amp provided excellent cover; he held it hip-high as he took it off stage, and the mental diversion was starting to work as he turned to help Tommy, the drummer, pull apart his kit. *** A half hour later, halfway through the next band's set, Ricky was feeling pretty good. He had downed a couple more beers and a celebratory shot of whiskey with the band, and now he was hanging out with his friends who had shown up to support the show. The band that followed them had a few good songs, but they held a higher entertainment value through their sheer craziness on stage. Jason stumbled over to point out the lead singer literally tearing his shirt off, a feat that was much more difficult than he had imagined because he was struggling, and finally left the tattered remains on when he couldn't tear the seams. Ricky was having a similar struggle in his mind. Ever since he had gotten off stage, he had been trying to get those girls out of his head; which only resulted in short periods of distraction followed by furtive glances. The girls were alternately drinking, leaning over tables to talk to friends, or dancing to the band, and many times giving glimpses of their generous figures as the blonde's skirt would rise a little as she leaned, or the brunette's beautiful behind was shaken provocatively as she danced. At one point, Ricky seriously considered making a move to talk to this beautiful duo, his half-hard wang taking up the better part of his reason by that point, but after seeing a couple jokers (much better looking jokers, in his opinion) in khakis and polo shirts try their luck and get shot down, he decided they should probably be left to fantasy. *** Leaning into the crowded bar with the band's last two drink tickets, Ricky was so focused on fighting for the bartender's attention he completely failed to notice the brunette sidle up beside him until she turned to give him a coy smile. Previous resolutions partly abandoned, Ricky ventured a quick conversation starter, "crazy show, huh?" jerking his thumb back toward the closing band flailing about on stage. "Yeah," she replied, "they're the band I came out to see, their show is pretty infamous for being over-the-top." Her deep brown eyes lingered on his for a second, then she looked at the bar and added, "But their guitarist is nowhere near as good as you are." She glanced back, as Ricky tried not to look too surprised, and shyly returned her gaze to the bar. "I kinda wish I hadn't missed the beginning of your set." "Ur, well, thanks!" was all Ricky could stammer out before the bartender came down to take their orders. He let her order first; she called for two vodka cranberries. As the bartender moved to make them, Ricky floundered fruitlessly in his mind for his next move, but was quickly interrupted by the petite blonde squeezing between them, her pert bottom rubbing dangerously against his crotch in the process. "Michelle," the blonde quipped, glancing at Ricky with a twinkle in her gorgeous blue eyes, "are you getting us drinks, or are you too busy flirting?" The bartender returned with their drinks, but Michelle ignored him for the moment and, with a lingering look into Ricky's eyes, responded, "Both," then promptly paid for her drinks and handed one to her friend. The bartender's throat clearing was necessary to remind Ricky of the task at hand and he quickly turned to order two pints of beer, one for him and one for Tommy, effectively spending the last of the credit the bar gave them for playing the show. When he turned back to find Michelle and her cute blonde friend, they were a short way down the bar talking to a couple of chiseled gym-monkeys. He cursed himself silently for his inaccurate assessment of them when they first walked in, and doubly for having lost what seemed to be an excellent opportunity to get to know them better. Resigning himself to his fate, he shrugged to himself and, with a few glances in their direction, brought the beers back to the table he was sharing. The drinks continued to flow, with Jason buying a round of whiskey and another round of beers out of their payoff for the show, which would have pissed Ricky off under different circumstances, but he wanted to get those girls out of his head. *** At the end of the second show, it was last call, which meant it was time to move equipment. Lugging their stuff out to the van always reminded Ricky of another of his rock 'n' roll fantasies, namely, roadies. Hauling amps and drums past the lines for the bathrooms, out the back door and then out to his van was a pain in the ass, but it was one they had gotten used to over the last few months they had been playing. Ricky was maneuvering through the back of the bar carrying his beloved amplifier cradled in his arms when the beers got the better of his balance. He stumbled on a step, nearly losing his footing, and backed into someone who had been waiting in line for the bathroom. He heard a faint "Ow!" from behind him, and turned to apologize and assess the damage. As he turned, Ricky found himself looking first down the plunging cleavage, then, as he struggled to raise his gaze from her incredible breasts, into the deep brown eyes of the gorgeous brunette. His brain scrambled and he nearly dropped his amplifier. "I'm so sorry... Michelle," he said, and managed to muster the devious grin of someone who has just said something clever. A bemused smile belied her peevish response, "You elbowed me in the boob, you clumsy oaf!" The boob she was rubbing, however, looked less injured than turned on, with her hardening nipple starting to jut clearly through the thin material of her top. Ricky took in the look and the words, but his booze-sodden brain was not in any shape to appreciate the dichotomy, so he took the safer approach, "I'm so sorry," he repeated, "I just lost my footing for a minute, I didn't mean to hurt you." "I ought to make you kiss it better." The grin was still there, and her reproachful tone had turned pouty and seductive. At that moment the bathroom she had been waiting for cleared, so she winked and walked through the door. "Fuck my luck!" Ricky muttered as he turned and carried his amp up the stairs. Maybe she'll be there when I get back, he consoled himself. When he went back to grab his guitar she was nowhere to be seen. There was, however, a small piece of pink fabric sticking out of his guitar case. He quickly unsnapped the case and opened it, concerned that his precious Stratocaster had been violated, or worse yet, stolen. What he found instead made him breathe a sigh of relief - relief that quickly turned to arousal. His guitar was safe and intact, but draped over it was a lacy pink pair of panties. They were, if he was not mistaken, slightly damp and he could smell a faint-but-familiar musty aroma. He fought with himself for a moment to avoid bringing them to his nose then and there, and finally returned them to his guitar case, snapping it shut as he glanced around the bar to see if anyone had noticed his discovery; it seemed no one had. *** The last piece of equipment safely stowed in the van, Ricky hugged his band mates to celebrate the gig and sent them off with Baxter, who was sober enough to get them home in one piece. He walked to the back of the parking lot to the beat up old rust-and-white Ford Econoline van that had become the band's equipment-hauler for gigs. He opened the driver-side door, sat in the step-well and rubbed his face, questioning his ability to drive the three miles to get home. He huffed and rested his head on his fist. "You aren't thinking about driving that, in your condition? You might hurt more than just someone's boob," a familiar voice cut through the parking lot, "And you haven't atoned for your previous sins; no sense in getting yourself into more trouble." Ricky looked up at an incredible hour-glass silhouette framed by the downtown street lights and smiled. "Actually, I'm currently thinking about not driving it, at least not until I'm in a slightly better position to do so." "I can think of a few better positions for you to be in," Michelle stepped towards him, out of silhouette and into hour-glass focus. "Hey, uh" Ricky stammered and recovered, "I thought you had taken off while we loaded the van." "I had considered it," a wry smile played across her lips, "but I hadn't gotten what I wanted yet." She was standing right in front of him now, and he stood to look into her eyes. He leaned in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner against the open door of the van, "and what was that?" "A cute guitarist to play with." The lusty, penetrating look she gave him demanded the savage kiss he responded with, and as their lips met forcibly, Ricky pulled her body into his with all of the heat of his pent-up desire. They heard the crunch of footsteps in the parking lot, but neither of them was in any position to care. They were lost in the uncharted territory of each other's kiss, and when the sounds died out nearby, neither was in the mood to take notice. They let their tongues explore each other's mouths for a few moments, and then their hands began explorations of their own. As Ricky's right hand caressed Michelle's neck, his left made a long lingering journey down to that incredible ass his eyes had been drawn to throughout the night. She, meanwhile, caressed Ricky's chest and stomach, and then stopped to play her fingers along his beltline in a way that sent shivers of anticipation through his body. Ricky kissed his way down her neck as his hands worked their way to her ample bosom, enjoying the delightful surprise that her halter-top did little to inhibit his ability to feel her hardening nipples straining against it. As his mouth made its way back up to her luscious lips, he found the knot behind her neck and deftly untied it. The straps fell to rest on her ample cleavage, but did not release it, so Ricky's mouth made a slow journey down her neck to where her breasts held the fabric in place. He slowly uncovered them inch by inch, covering each exposed inch with his mouth as he peeled the fabric away. When he reached her nipples, he took some time to lick and suck them before giving each a little nibble that made her moan loudly and pull his head into her chest. As he licked and sucked her perfect boobs into his mouth, he felt her move to the side and press his face into her luxurious bosom with one hand, while the other fumbled for his zipper. He thought his boozing had gotten the better of him when he felt two hands undoing his belt, with Michelle's left still holding his face to her breasts, but then he felt another sneak under his shirt to rub his stomach and chest. He pulled back to assess the situation, and Michelle did the same, looking down, with one eyebrow raised, in a playful, "What are you doing down there?" expression. "What? I wanted to see it." The beautiful little blonde looked up at Ricky with a feigned innocence that spoke volumes in the opposite direction. "I saw him get hard in those skinny jeans and my panties got so wet I had to take them off, now I don't know what's become of them." The blonde was squatted down in a manner that hiked up her skirt and clearly demonstrated their absence. The sight of her shaven pussy, slightly parted by her position and glistening in the reflected street lights, made Ricky, if possible, even harder; hard to the point where the containment of his pants was becoming torture. "Whaddya say," cooed Michelle, her lips right against his ear, "should we let her see it?" "Well, she does seem pretty intent," moaned Ricky, trying to keep his cool with the excitement, booze and the incredible tightness of his pants, "and these pants are feeling a bit tight." Without another word between them, Michelle moved to the side to better appreciate the great unveiling, and the blonde worked in earnest to undo his belt, unbutton his jeans and drag his zipper down. Even with all her work his hard cock was trapped in the tight jeans, so she began to tug them down his thighs. She giggled as she did so and looked up lustfully into his eyes, and after a few tugs, his cock sprang free, like a liberated prisoner, and chucked her under her giggling chin. "That's no way to treat a lady," the blonde quipped to his penis, "I oughtta give you a good tongue lashing." "You can't let it get away with that sort of thing, Penny." Without the need for further encouragement, the blonde, Penny, began to explore his engorged member with her tongue. With both hands holding Ricky's jeans down and out of the way, she began to lick around his cock, slowly and luxuriously, letting it play around her face as she licked every part. She flicked the tip of her tongue over the head a few times, and then fully enveloped the shaft in her warm, wet mouth, making Ricky groan loudly. As he groaned, Ricky heard a door bang and, for a moment, realized his exposed state. Although this was a dark parking lot, and most of the patrons had long since headed home, it was in no way private. This fact was emphasized as a bartender, who had exited the rear door of the club not twenty yards away, walked to the dumpster to take out the trash. Ricky thought for a moment of stopping the proceedings, at least until the bartender was gone, but his willpower for such things was long lost in the amazing sensations coming from his crotch. Thankfully, the bartender paid them no mind, and after he had disposed of his bag of trash, headed back inside the club. Ricky glanced back at Michelle, to see if she had noticed their would-be voyeur, but her eyes were glued on Penny's ministrations. He pulled Michelle in for a deep kiss, marveling at the sensations of the kiss above and the blow-job below. "How's she doing?" Michelle pulled away to ask. "Amazingly," was all Ricky could respond before Penny's tongue swirled around the head of his cock and he let out another throaty moan. "Really," Michelle responded, with just a hint of jealousy, and a devious look came into her eyes as she added, "Well, there no sense letting her have all the fun." She joined Penny on her knees, wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, and pulled it gently but forcibly from Penny's mouth, with an audible "pop." Once she had it free, Michelle began her own enthusiastic ministrations, pistoning his swollen member with her hand and her mouth, and driving new waves of ecstasy through his body. They traded off, Michelle pumping his cock, and Penny swirling her magic tongue around it, until his moans became loud and continuous. He was right on the verge of letting go when Michelle stopped and pulled his cock out of her mouth. "Oh no, boy, you aren't getting off that easily, you've got sins to atone for." She rose to her feet, rubbing the back of her hand against her chin. "That's right," Penny chimed in with a playful look in her eye, also rising, "There are no free rides in this world." As she said this, she sidled up to Ricky and kissed him deeply, penetratingly. "He hurt my boob," said Michelle matter-of-factly, "so I think I should have him first." "True, my dear, but I think he already gave it a good rub for you. Besides, who bought the last round of drinks?" "You did." Michelle's tone had turned sulky. "Okay, but don't wear him out." She petulantly grabbed a fistful of Ricky's shirt and pulled him in to entangle their tongues once again. Penny hiked her skirt above her hips and hopped into the driver's seat of the van. She sat facing the open door and the two of them, with her legs spread wide enough to show off a beautiful shaved pussy that glimmered with wetness. "So, penance begins on your knees, doesn't it?" she said with a smirk to Ricky with one eyebrow raised. Ricky broke his kiss with Michelle, turned to Penny, and knelt in the stepwell of the van. He kissed his way up from Penny's right ankle, leaving a few heavy kisses and licks along her smooth-shaven and beautifully wet snatch before kissing his way down her left leg. "Now, that's not very nice," pouted Penny, "You all but missed the best part." Ricky smiled and moved his head back towards the center of her pleasure, but merely brushed his lips across the folds of her succulent pussy as he looked up to check her reaction. Inwardly, he was trying desperately to control his urge to dive tongue first into her glorious hole. She was looking down at him with the intensity of anticipation, her eyes a little unfocused by his teasing. "Am I getting warmer?" He asked, with as much innocence as a man with his head between a beautiful woman's legs can muster.