After another refrain, one clearly just for live shows, and another powerful iteration of the chorus, Trent stepped down and let his band have their moment to close out the set.
The electric guitar wailed.
The backup guitar sang.
The deep bass guitar droned.
The drums exploded.
And all the while, Trent simply stood there, hands on the microphone and head bowed, listening to the unrestrained power of his musicians.
That’s when it struck me.
I realized, in that blinding moment, that Trent Masters was more than just some arrogant, cocky asshole. Underneath all his pride and self-importance, under his swagger and his gesturing, there was a depth to him – a deep, dark depth visible even now.
He was a proper leader to his people.
He let them all have their turn in the light.
After the improvised detonation of instrumentation descended into a wicked, thirty-second drumroll against the ending drones of the guitars, everyone clashed together into one final, definite note. Right afterwards, Trent ascended to the microphone one last time.
“WE ARE TRENT MASTERS AND THE WHIPLASH! GET DRUNK, BREAK SHIT, AND HAVE A GOOD FUCKING NIGHT! UNTIL NEXT TIME, YOU BEAUTIFUL SONS OF BITCHES!”
The lights drowned the stage in darkness, and everyone slipped from their spots. This time, there would be no fake-out return to the stage, no matter how much the crowd screamed.
But instead of heading back with the band, Trent strolled straight towards us. Our little group was stunned as he latched onto my arm with a powerful, sweaty hand and half-dragged me backstage.
13
Trent
Within moments, we were back at the bus. I tossed her to my bed and quickly stepped into the shower, rinsing the sweat from my pores and the grease from my hair.
I was in and out in just a couple of minutes. I hadn’t bothered to throw anything more than a pair of jeans on, anticipating the direction of the next hour.
More accurately, choosing that direction.
I had been patient long enough.
She was finally, conclusively mine.
And I intended to take that privilege.
The rest of the band knew I was going to be in the bus, and didn’t want to be disturbed. They were free to enjoy their after-party with the others, and to drag their designated, temporary fuck-buddies back to the bus to do the deed.
But they understood the rule.
Nobody bothers Trent.
To my satisfaction, Angel was sitting exactly where I’d left her. Her eyes clearly traced the outlines of my muscles as I took her by the hand, pulling her back into my embrace.
I discovered to my unending satisfaction that she was putty in my fucking hands. Everything was right in the world, set back to where we had been interrupted.
But I wasn’t counting on a minor detail.
The kiss felt fucking fantastic.
When I felt her lips brush up against mine, sparks fired off in the back of my head. It was on another level entirely.
Didn’t know a kiss could taste so good…
Before, it had always come off as just an agreement, signing a contract of services about to be rendered. A kiss prior to stripping them bare and losing myself.
But this?
I didn’t know what to do with this.
Neither did Angel. Her chest was heaving against me, and in the low lighting I could see her eyes, furtively searching my own. It was almost as if they were saying, I don’t know what we’re doing. What are YOU doing? What are WE doing?
I didn’t really have an answer.
So I closed mine, bending in for another powerful kiss, pulling her light body up against mine. Her hands rested against my shoulders, almost pushing me away, but sliding around the back of my neck instead.
I could hear her moan into the kiss, and god fucking dammit if that didn’t make me harder than stone where it mattered.
We slid backwards, down onto the bed. Circumstances put her lying on top of me, and I pulled her down into another deep, satisfying kiss. I nipped her bottom lip with my teeth, tugging lightly to excite her, but hard enough to vent out my sexual frustration.
This has been a long time coming, I thought to myself. And I intend on making the most of it.
I let one hand lightly tug at her miniskirt, while the other slapped down hard against her ass. She yelped, almost jumping up, but I wouldn’t let her leave me. Instead, my teeth tugged at her lower lip again, inviting her down further.
I could taste her desire.
I could feel her racing heartbeat.
I could sense her nervousness, her anxiety.
These things only pumped more blood into the stiffening tool between my legs, pushing up against her. My cock ached for fulfillment, strained for release against her. It sensed her furious, hungry need, and it wanted to satisfy.
With the slightest shift of my body, it was pushing right where it mattered most – up between her thighs, her positioning meaning that with just the smallest movements…
Angel matched my grinding, pushing against my rock-hard cock in the semi-darkness. Her breathing was audible now, and I kissed her passionately, pressing my tongue up between her lips and against her own.
My cock flexed against her.
Yes, I thought to it. I was so close to shredding her clothes from her body and fulfilling my aching need with her.
This is happening.
No surprises this time.
You’ll get your prize.
With our tongues still writhing against each other’s, I easily flipped her to her back, climbing on top of her.
My conquest was lying beneath me, trembling. The small amount of light reflected over her eyes, and I dove in for another hungry, delicious kiss…
Wait.
Something’s not right.
There was something in her eyes.
Something I didn’t like.
Was she…about to CRY?
“What’s the matter?” I asked, half seriously but half angrily.
“N-n-nothing,” she whimpered.
A deep sigh slid involuntarily from my chest. “Tell me. What’s the problem.”
“It’s nothing, I swear.”
“It’s not nothing.”
“No, it’s just…I’m…”
“You’re what.”
She was seriously testing my patience now.
My conquest, still lying beneath me, turned her gaze away. I wasn’t having any of that, so I clamped both sides of her jaw with a strong grip and physically turned her back.
“Tell me.”
She trembled harder.
Her entire body was quivering now.
“I’m not…I just…”
Spit. It. The. Fuck. Out.
“I’m a virgin.”
It struck me like a sack of bricks.
I almost laughed.
“You’re a virgin.”
She nodded quietly, turning away again.
“With a body like this… How the fuck are you still a virgin?”
She blushed, but there was still ample shame plastered across her face. My lay was taking this seriously to heart.
But that’s when I realized.
A virgin.
My rightful place.
“Well…that just means we’ll be going a little slower, doesn’t it?” I whispered to her, trying to sound as tender as I possibly could.
She turned back.
“You’d…do that?”
“You’re damn right I would.”
Angel looked me in the eyes. Even in the low light, I couldn’t tell what was going through her head in the slightest. After a moment that felt like a fucking eternity, she nodded.
“Okay.”
I reached down and fondly planted my lips against hers, giving her a deep, loving kiss. I didn’t even have to pretend – it was so easy to bend for her, to hold back from the hunger of my usual passion.
Carefully,
delicately, I guided her out of the rest of her clothes. Soon, she was stripped bare beneath me, her body opened up for the taking.
Her tits looked fantastic.
Her shaved little pussy was glistening.
Her skin was ready for my pleasure.
But…
But.
I couldn’t believe it. I had never, ever hesitated before taking a partner before. After scores of groupies and doing as I pleased with their bodies…it was alien to me to actually care about any of them for longer than the moment.
“Is…is something wrong?” She asked timidly.
“No,” I answered immediately, guiding her attention away from any perceived, misplaced dissatisfaction she might have feared from me. “No, everything’s fine.”
“You’re…not doing anything,” she observed quietly. She must have become self-conscious; her thighs rubbed together lightly, toes curling, and she was subtly shrinking into herself.
“I’m just savoring the moment,” I told her, although I wasn’t fooling anybody.
I sat down beside her on the bed, furious with myself, bitterly arguing with my sudden bout of stupid, idiotic hesitance.
My conquest was here.
She was ripe, and ready for the plucking. Not only that, but every furious ounce of gritty, hungry lust within me screamed: you’re going to be FIRST.