Page 1 of Sexy Dirty Fun

1

CANE

“Will I see you tonight after the show?” She asked, her voice high and whiny.

Thank God my back was turned to her so she couldn’t see me roll my eyes; there was no way in hell she was going to see me later. I didn’t sleep with the same woman twice – ever.

I pulled my t-shirt over my head and turned around to face her. She was still topless, showing off her perfect DD tits. Man, those fuckers were beautiful. Maybe I should reconsider. I shook my head; there would be plenty of girls with perfect tits to fuck after the show.

“Well, I’m going to be pretty busy later, so I don’t think we’ll be able to hook up. Sorry,” I said half-heartedly as I tucked my shirt into my jeans and buttoned them up. “The bathroom’s over there.” I nodded towards the door on the left. “Thanks for the fuck,” I said and left the dressing room before she could say anything else.

“Make sure she gets the fuck out of there by the time I come back after the show,” I instructed the roadie that was walking by.

“Sure thing,” he said with a nod. He was used to getting rid of women for me. Most of the crew was.

“Thanks, man.” I slapped him on the shoulder as I continued my walk. I needed a beer. And a joint. The tight little blonde back in my dressing room had help calm the pre-concert jitters a little bit, but I still something to take the edge off. Despite doing hundreds of shows in my short music career, I still got a little stage fright, especially for a big show.

The band I was lead singer for, Hookers and Hand Grenades, was in the middle of a huge summer tour. We were headlining with four other rock bands, traveling all over the country and doing out door festivals that lasted all day long. The tour started last week and was one big wild party. I fucking loved it.

I became a musician because I was good at it and loved music, but I had to admit I was totally drawn into the lifestyle. There was nothing like waking after noon with a couple of hot chicks in your bed from the night before. The endless supply of booze and drugs was a big plus too. It didn’t hurt having women screaming my name when I sang onstage and throwing their panties at me.

Speaking of a drink, I needed one. I walked to the main area back stage where the party was happening. My drummer Zane was getting his dick sucked by some brunette over in the corner. I caught his eye and he grinned at me before pushing her mouth further down on his cock. I shook my head and kept walking; he was as big of a man whore as I was.

There were people sitting around drinking and smoking pot. Another couple was making out on the couch. I even saw one girl snort a line of coke. I usually stayed away from that shit unless I was especially on edge; my drugs of choice were pot and alcohol.

The scene backstage was one of pure decadence and I loved it. This –thiswas why I was a rock star.

I grew up with nothing. It’s your typical Hallmark sad story about a boy who’s dad was in jail when I was born; he was killed shortly after he got into the joint. When I was seven, mom got herself knocked up by her boss at the dinner she worked in. She eventually literally worked herself to death, dying of a massive heart attack. She left my sister and I all alone and we ended up wards of the state; she was adopted right away being five and cute as a button. I, on the other hand, was a brooding thirteen-year-old boy; no one wanted to deal with that.

I spent the rest of my youth in and out of foster homes and found solace in music. The rest is history and something I’ll save for VH1’s “Behind the Music”. (Is that even on anymore?)

Diesel, the lead guitarist and my best friend walked up and handed me a beer. “Figured you could use this since there was nothing in your hand,” he grinned at me.

“Thanks, man,” I said before taking a long sip, emptying half the bottle.

“How was that blonde piece of ass?”

“Her fucking tits were amazing and she let me come all over them but other than that, she was alright; nothing special,” I shrugged. “Typical of most women, she wanted to see me later and I blew her off. She wasn’t even dressed yet when I left.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You would think the word would have gotten around about what an asshole you are.”

“I know, right?” I laughed and finished off my beer, looking immediately for another. My buzz from earlier was worn off and I didn’t like it. “They all think they’ll be ‘the one’ that can tame me, I guess. Dumb bitches.”

We laughed and walked over the cooler full of beer. As we each grabbed one, Diesel spotted someone from another band he used to talk to and headed over to them, leaving me alone. I found an unoccupied chair and took a seat to drink my beer and observe the people around me. Maybe I could find someone I could fuck after the show.

I glanced around the room the scene was pretty typical of backstage before one of our shows. The bass player J.J. is sitting on the end of the couch with his wife on his lap. He was the only one out of all four of us that was married. Clarissa was his high school sweet heart and a cool chick. She was on tour with us a lot of the time but we didn’t mind.

Zane had disappeared from the corner, taking the party somewhere more private. I was glad; we didn’t need to see him fucking. Late at night after a show, things would get a little out of hand back here and it wasn’t out of the ordinary to find a pile of naked bodies. Things were a bit tamer before we had to go onstage; when we were done playing for the night we would really let lose.

I sighed and took a drink of my beer. Even I had to admit the chicks that followed us around and got back stage were tired. They all wore skirts too short and shirts that had their tits spilling out of them. So many were too skinny and looked like they needed to eat a fucking sandwich.

The more success the band had, the less of a challenge the groupies were, practically spreading their legs the minute you said hi. I’m not even kidding – I’ve met a few that dropped to their knees to suck my cock without even telling me their name.

I would have to watch the crowd tonight to see if anyone caught my eye. I usually paid close attention to the females in the front rows during our shows. If there were any I would be interested in fucking later, I would have a security give them a backstage pass. There have been a few shows where he ended up handing out five different passes. Let’s just say I had trouble walking the next day.

The roadie I saw leaving me dressing room came by to let me know he got rid of the girl. I nodded and thanked him. I was about to get up to go back there to smoke a joint and relax when someone caught my eye.

The tour managerwas talking to a redhead that didn’t fit in with the other women back stage. She had on jeans and black knee-high boots. She was curvy and unlike the other women in here, had something I could hold onto when I fucked her. A tight black tank top accented her tits, revealing a small amount of cleavage. I wanted to run my tongue in between them, maybe even slide my cock up there. She wasn’t wearing a pound of make-up either. On her left shoulder was some sort of tattoo I couldn’t quite make out because her long hair was covering most of it.

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