Page 6 of Grave Dissonance

The girl’s bottom lip quivers and suddenly I feel like a fuckin’ asshole. “Listen, sweetheart, you know what’s up, right?” I step closer to her and place my finger below her chin and lift her face. “You know this is a one-night thing, only fucking?”

She nods her head.

“Is that what you want?” I ask gently.

She shakes her head no.

“All right, sweetheart,” I say as I pull out my phone and text Kaye to send a car. “I called for a driver to come pick you up and take you home.”

The blonde gazes up at me, her eyes wide with shock as if I slapped her. What does the girl expect me to do, throw her out in the middle ofthe night? I suppose some guys would do that, but I’m not the scum of the earth. There is no way I’d let a girl roam the streets at night. I’m well aware of how many predators lurk in the depths of the night waiting to violate someone.

“Thank you,” the blonde whispers.

“No problem,” I say right as I get a text letting me know the limo pulled up. “Your ride is here. He’ll take you where you want to go.” The girl turns to the window before gazing at me. “You’re safe. I promise.”

She nods, and I watch her step off the bus and get into the limo before turning my head toward Iggy and the two other groupies.

I glare at the one with green hair as she grips Iggy’s face. He’s no longer wearing a gas mask but a balaclava. She moves his face to hers with the use of her hand as she gets on her tiptoes and leans close, trying to connect her puckered lips to his.

“I don’t kiss on the lips,” Iggy says, holding her back with a hand. “But if you get down on your knees, I’ll let you kiss something else.”

Iggy and I have two rules. We don’t kiss the girls we fuck and we don’t fuck them more than once. Occasionally I wonder if I’m doing harm by fucking these girls, but then my desperation to feel that temporary connection takes over and their needs become inconsequential.

Similar to other girls from our past, this one doesn’t seem to care about the rules. She falls to her knees and her fingers make quick work of Iggy’s fly and the button of his jeans.

Reluctantly, I walk over to them and grab the black-haired girl by the neck. I don’t even know her name. Not that it matters. Their names won’t mean much to me. I’ll forget what it is as soon as I come. I won’t even remember her. She’ll bleed into the fuzzy memory that’s just beyond my reach. None of them ever really matter. I couldn’t even tell you how the sex is with any of them. I just bust a nut and that’s that. Now and then, I will want to make them come, but most times I get mine and let them fake their orgasm. I used to feel horrible about not caring, but then I came to realize that all of this is a fucked-up transaction, where I get lostin the sex and they get the high of being with a rock star. Win, win.

The raven-haired girl moans as I yank her head back. A real porn-star moan. Why do they always think we want to fuck a porn star?

“Pick a safe word,” I demand.

When the girl doesn’t answer me right away, I repeat myself. “Pick a safe word.”

I always make them pick a safe word. Some of them assume they don’t need one, but they do. I’m rough. Way more aggressive than they could imagine. Most of them think Iggy is going to leave their bodies used and broken because he’s outgoing and flirtatious, but they’re wrong. Degradation, primal, and breath play are what I bring to the table. When I’m taking control, manipulating their bodies, and forcing them to the brink, the voices quiet. In those brief moments of carnal manipulation, I’m not scared or frustrated. I focus my mind on the task at hand. It’s the same feeling I get when I’m onstage. I have control and I’m worthy. Maybe that’s why I never sayno to sex. It fills the broken cracks in the framework of my weak mind.

“Red,” the girl whispers in a husky tone. She’s trying to sound sexy, putting on a fake jazz singer's voice. They always lay it on thick.

“Get on your knees,” I rasp.

CHAPTER 3

Iggy

The sun seeps into the tour bus in a burst of obnoxious light. I forgot to pull down the shades last night and now I’m paying for it.

A groan escapes my lips as I turn and witness my limbs tangled in bed, not with some random girl but my best friend. Us being naked in bed together isn’t new. Marley and I are the band whores. We like to fuck, and most of the time we like to fuck together. What’s new is that my limbs are all twisted around him and the girl that should've been between us is missing.

My cock throbs as I take in his naked state and all the intricate designs etched on his sculptedform, vibrant tattoos on his neck that crawl all the way across his body. There isn’t an inch of Marley that’s not covered with artwork. But what has me frozen is his thick cock standing at attention, decorated with multiple piercings. Piercings that when they’d rubbed up against my cock had me seeing visions of the divine.

Fuck.

For months now, all I’ve been doing is staring at my best friend the way I should look at the chicks we fuck together. It’s gotten to the point now that I want to only fuck women to see him naked. Last week I tried to fuck solo, but I couldn’t get hard. I had to take a Viagra to fuck her. Can’t have her flapping her mouth about Striker not being able to get it up. I would’ve gone to see a doctor, but when I saw Marley naked, getting out of the shower, my cock was so hard I was sure it turned into steel. So obviously it wasn’t a problem with my dick, it was a problem with whom it wanted to fuck. Last night proved with no doubt exactly how much my cock wants Marley Banks.

“That’s it. Relax your throat and take it all the way,” Marley said. He was being gentle with her.He was never gentle.

That was what I loved about fucking with him. It was a turn-on witnessing him come undone in the bedroom. Normally Marley was so wound up, his whole demeanor controlled and fabricated. The only time I witnessed his animalistic side was when he was balls deep in some random chick. It was also the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I even wished I was the girl being held down, gagging. Which was fucked up because I’d never sucked a dick before, nor had I ever wanted to. I’d fucked guys, but it was more of me fuckin’ their ass. A hole is a hole, after all.

The girl, I think her name was Greta—or Girdle. Fuck, let’s call her G, was sucking Marley down like she was a Hoover and his cock was something hard to pick up off the floor. The thing that was fuckin’ wild was that Marley didn't even care to look at her. Instead, his eyes were on me as I had my cock rammed deep into her sopping cunt. At least she was enjoying herself.

---