The concert was over and the band went backstage to shower. I didn’t get an invitation this time – in fact, I barely got any recognition that I existed. Derek just smiled faintly as he and the others walked past me, and then they were gone.I went backstage and waited.It was all the same as last night. The women waiting in line. The famous people, the rich people, the beautiful people. The rockers and the actors and the celebrities. The band showed up and things went crazy. Drink, food, drugs, alcohol.I kept to the periphery as more half-naked women threw themselves at Derek. The longer I watched, the angrier I got – not to mention more and more jealous with each passing moment. It felt like he was doing this to spite me – waving all these hot little boob-jobbed playthings in my face – And then I remembered ‘I Want You To Want Me.’A little voice in the back of my head whispered, You know, YOU were the one who threw him out last night.YOU were the one who spurned all his advance
We burst out the back, running like two kids in high school after the police have raided a party – delirious, screaming, laughing. We raced past startled crew members and out into the night.The amphitheater was set off by itself, connected by a small, winding road to absolutely humongous parking lots. We ran through the darkness, and when I began to stumble on my high heels, Derek stopped and hunched over.“Get on!” he ordered.“What?” I asked, confused.“Piggyback ride – come on, get on!”I jumped on his back, screaming, laughing, and he took off again for the headlights in the distance.It was almost an hour after the concert, and the last stragglers were leaving. We raced past cars, Derek running as fast as he could, carrying me like I was weightless, until we were almost to the end of the parking lot. There was a convertible up ahead with its top down – a beat-up, rusty Le Baron, probably 30 years old. Three college-age kids were in it – a male driver, a female passenger, and ano
We slowed it down.Waaaaaay down.He kissed me softly, our lips verging on swollen from our frenzied passion before. Now every kiss had a salty little sting to it that added to the luxurious pleasure of his mouth against mine.He slowly undid my bra behind my back – and, like four years ago, he didn’t let it fall off right away. He gently pushed the strap off my right shoulder, letting it drift and tickle my skin… and then he nudged the left strap until it slid down my arm. Then he kissed my lips… and my chin… then tilted my head up with his hands… and let his tongue dance softly, lightly down my throat, to the tiny hollow between my collar bones, to the upper swell of my breasts. He kissed me, his lips moving downwards, pressing the satin of my bra down, down, until I felt his mouth hot and damp on my swollen, erect, aching nipple, and he sucked.I moaned, and a shiver ran down the entire length of my body.My bra dropped down my arms, baring my chest completely to him. His fingers
He crawled up over my body, and I felt his muscled thighs brush against mine. The mattress indented when he braced his arms on either side my body, and I could feel his forearms touch the sides of my breasts.I put my hand on the back of his massive arm. His muscles were so hard and firm, it took me by surprise.Something else was hard and firm, too.His cock brushed against my pussy, and I could feel his skin against mine, the cloying pull as his and my wetness met – wet, hot, sticky – and then he pulled away.It was hard as rock, but clothed in soft, satiny skin.And just like that, I was ready to go again.He kissed me on the mouth, and I felt his lower body shift, and then there was a wonderful, throbbing, amazing pressure just about to part me – “Condom,” I whispered.He paused, and I could tell he was disappointed.I remembered what he had said in the showers:I get tested now, once a month. And I’m totally clean, by the way.I was actually on birth control. I could have let hi
We lay in bed, him holding my body against his, and just talked for a long time afterwards.A good portion of it was Derek busting my chops.“See? Was that so difficult?” he teased.“What?”“Sleeping with me.”I rolled my eyes, though he couldn’t see. “Whatever. If you hadn’t been such an asshole last night – ”“Me?! How was I an asshole?”“What, you don’t remember the 200 pairs of boobs you signed?”“Oh… that.”“‘Oh, THAT,’” I mimicked, and twisted his nipple.“Aaaaah!” he laughed, and started tickling me in retaliation, which led to roughhousing, which led to more kissing.After a minute, though, he pulled away and smiled. “It was just to make you jealous.”“Yeah, I’ll bet.”“Seems like it worked.”I wasn’t about to tell him that, yeah, it worked, all right.“Didn’t work so great, or we could have been doing this last night.”“Hey, I tried the straightforward approach – ”“Can we not talk about this?”Derek grinned. “What was it that changed your mind?”He was a little too pleased w
I awoke the next morning in Derek’s arms. I squinted blearily at the alarm clock by the bed. 10:52AM.A pure jolt of adrenalin shot through my veins.“Oh my God, get up, get up!” I shouted, shaking him roughly awake.“Wha– wha’s wrong?” he asked groggily.I hit the floor running, collecting my clothes and throwing his at him as he continued to loll on the bed. “It’s almost check-out time! We’ve got to go!”He just lay there, looking at me like I was the strangest thing he had ever seen.“Get up!” I said, hastily pulling on my panties.“You did not just wake me up for that,” he said, his expression somewhere between amused and pissed.“They’re going to charge us for an extra day if we’re not out of here by 11!”“Kaitlyn,” he said in a tone of voice he probably reserved for small children and older folks missing a few marbles. “I’m a rock star. And a millionaire. The fuck do I care if they charge us another couple hundred bucks?”I was used to looking for pennies and dimes in my kitche
It happened pretty quickly. First Derek said to me, “I liked those kids’ convertible last night. You want to get a convertible?”“No,” I said loudly.Derek ignored me. “I want a convertible. Show me the best convertible you’ve got on the lot,” he said.The salesman – who, after he got over the worst of being star-struck, introduced himself as Tad – showed it to us. It was absolutely gorgeous.I about choked on the price tag, though: $78,000.But Derek saw something else a few rows away, and walked over to check it out.It was a beautiful little retro convertible with rounded lines and powder blue paint. Perfect condition.“Oh yeah – sorry, I forgot about that one. 1969 Mercedes convertible,” the guy said. “We just got it yesterday – guy got divorced, had to sell it and get a cheaper car to pay off his lawyer. My heart broke for him when he gave me the keys, man.”“I’ll take it,” Derek said.“Don’t you want to know how much it is?” I asked, my mouth agape. There wasn’t even a ‘For Sa
Things weren’t morose for long. We walked back to where we’d parked the car and found a Greek place with gyros.“For old times’ sake,” Derek said, and winked.The sun was getting low in the sky when we climbed back in the car and headed south for San Diego.We got into the city limits just as the sun was setting. The sky was on fire with gorgeous oranges and reds, and I snuggled next to Derek as he drove along the freeway.Somehow we missed our exit. We had to stop for directions (at my insistence – like most men, Derek couldn’t admit when he was lost, and did NOT want to ask anybody else), but we finally figured out how to get to San Diego University.After the truck stop clerk drew us a map, Derek got a mischievous look on his face. First he bought a San Diego Padres ballcap, two red bandanas, and a flannel shirt. Then he motioned me over to a payphone and dumped in a whole bunch of quarters.I could hear Ryan answer on the other end. “Damn it, Derek, where the hell are you?! The op