Sex, Drugs , Blonde Guitar God Ch. 01

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The candles flickered all around the room, and it was the only light that allowed me to see my reflection. I could see my reflection in the mirror, the full size mirror on the dresser at the bottom of the bed.

It was as if time stood still, and the scene became a photograph, as I took it in.

I was on my hands and knees, my hair looked like I had been dragged though a hedge backwards, a total rat’s nest, long, straggled, black hair. My eyes were like saucers, with heavy black eye makeup streaked down my face like it had been there for days.

My naturally long eye lashes so thick with makeup they looked false.

My lips, open slightly so I could breath, with smeared dried red lip stick, and the sides of my mouth where my lips met each other had an ache, like I had paper cuts in each corner.

He was behind me, kneeling behind me, on the bed; he looked amazing in the mirror. I looked amazing, so in control of everything, I looked like a complete and utter whore, a professional slut; the truth was I wasn’t anything like this, that’s what made it so good.

He was to die for, what a sight to behold, I watched as he rode into me, but to be honest, I had no idea exactly where he was riding into.

The night had not started this way, not by a long shot.

Many Hours Before:

I was getting ready to go out; it was the weekend and there was a band from out of town playing that night in a local club. I had never seen them before, but they played heavy rock. One of my friends said she had heard them online, that they were great, I decided to go; I really was a just rock chick, and any excuse to go out, I was there!

One of the things I liked about being a rock chick was the way I dressed to go out. It was a great excuse to rid myself of the regular clothes one needed to wear, being in a professional job and totally lose it, dress as raunchy as I could.

I had decided to go the extra mile that night and wear fishnet stockings, held in place by a black suspender belt, accompanying the matching lace G string and bra that held my large voluptuous breasts in place. I am a short kind of girl with a classic hour glass shape, so yeah, I’m all tits and ass.

My hair is so long it has a life of its own, wild waves cascading all the way to my waist, huge dark alluring eyes framed with the longest lashes, and full lips, painted red.

I felt a little self conscious wearing a short black skirt, aware if I bent over a little far, the whole world would get a view of my stocking tops, I felt great about the see though black top so everyone could get an eyeful of the lace design on my bra, and once I had zipped up the black leather stiletto knee boots I was ready for the club.

The night progressed well, the drinks flowed, I felt a little drunk, my friends and I danced a lot, and we waited for the band to come on.

We got a spot at the side of the stage so we could see the gig as best we could, I like being up front at gigs, just to see everything that is going on.

There was a mist of dry ice as the band came on stage and as it lifted I saw the most amazing sight, there he stood.

The guitar player in the band was stunning, just the sight of him made me groan. If there is one type of man that really floats my boat, it is the long blond haired variety. I have no idea why this is, they just make my knees quake and I get all excited. His hair was almost as long as mine, sort of straggly, with slight waves in it and I really just couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

I stood there in the side lines and watched him play, and watched how he moved with his guitar riding in front of him as he played.

He had fantastic legs, long, and strong looking, clad in jeans that showed off how great they were, and topped with an arse I could never tire of digging my nails into.

He wore some rock t shirt, with his strong arms descending from the sleeves; I could make out tattoos on his upper arms. His strong hands gripped a hold of the guitar, and as his fingers moved up and down the fret board.

He had a beautiful face, too soft for the music he was making, expressive, with piercing blue eyes that shone in the stage lights like they were lights themselves. His lips looked quite full for a guy, and they were surrounded by stubble.

I needed a drink or two just to take him in and cope with the sight of him, and to deal with my friends giving me flack about him, as they knew he was just my type. He seemed to look in my direction a few times, but he couldn’t have been looking at me, the stage lights would have blinded him to my being there.

I have no recollection of any of their songs. I was too busy staring at this guitar love god creating fantasies in my head about how much I wanted him, and what I wouldn’t do to him!

After their set, my friends and I were at the bar, laughing and joking and then my friends suddenly fell silent, there was tap on my shoulder. I spun round on my hells, feeling the effects of the alcohol to see this tall guitar god in front of me.

‘Hey, atakent escort can I get you a drink?’ he asked me with his head tilted slightly forward to accommodate our height difference.

His blue eyes were like precious jewels, and laser beams penetrating into me. I just about fell over!

‘Yeah, that would be great, thanks!’

He slipped his arm around my waist as he leaned over to get an order in, and that was that. I can’t remember him not having a body part touch one of mine the rest of the night.

We sat in a booth and drank more and talked loads about music, and my friends all filtered off one by one. We were soon left in our own company, and closing time had come.

Feeling brave and completely flattered that he had clearly wanted to get to know me better the whole night, I decided I was on a high and a roll, and thought it would be a good idea if he come back to my place. I had never done this before! What was I thinking!

In the cab home, hidden in the dark back seat, only occasionally interrupted by the shadows cast by the streetlights, he reached over and gently put his hand under my chin, and moved it round to look into my eyes, subconsciously, my hand reached over and rested on the inside of his thigh.

I wondered if he was trying to hypnotise me with those eyes, as he stared into them, holding my chin.

‘You, little lady, are one of the most amazing creatures I have ever laid my eyes on.’

And with that he pulled me in, forcing my lips to meet his. Quickly we were devouring each other, and my hand slid up his leg to feel what was underneath those jeans…all the way up.

Our movements were restricted as we were wearing seatbelts. He tasted of alcohol, and smelled of a lush fragrance, so masculine, I thought I could bury my nose in his body and take in his smell forever.

Before long we were back at my place, where we rushed in, both desperate to use the bathroom after a long cab wait.

I went first, and as he was in, I poured us a couple of screwdrivers, took them upstairs to my bedroom, where I lit around a dozen candles. I put on some old funk music and sprawled across my bed, lit a cigarette and waited for him to appear.

‘I’m in here!’ I called out; I heard the footsteps as he came nearer the door.

‘WOW!’ he stated taking in my room, a mixture of rich colours and fabrics, and the candles. I sat up, and handed him his drink.

‘Yeah, I love my room; I need all my luxurious things around me!’

‘Speaking of luxury’ he started, ‘I have a treat here if you are into it’.

‘Oh yeah, what kind of treat would that be?’

‘Do you have a nice little mirror?’ he asked with his eyes eating into my own once again.

‘Sure!’ I jumped up, went into my en suite and got a large compact mirror from my makeup drawer, and handed it to him.

He reached into his back pocket and produced a small zip seal bag half full of cocaine.

‘I am guessing you have done coke before and would fancy a line?’

‘Yeah, of course!’ I replied.

The truth was I hadn’t but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

I smoked my cigarette and sipped away at my Screwdriver as I watched him cut it up and make lines across the mirror with a bank card he had taken from his wallet.

He then rolled up a bank note and snorted a line, handing the mirror to me.

I moved all my hair to one side, lay down my drink and the ashtray with the cigarette perched on the side, and snorted the line up nervously.

Within a few seconds, I couldn’t feel my front teeth; I figured this must have been some decent quality stuff.

He leaned over me on the bed and kissed me, running his hand up my leather boots, over the texture of the fish net stockings, and found the top of them. He spoke to me and kissed me in between words.

‘I love slutty girls…. and stockings. Keep them on; leave those bad ass boots on too.’

With that he stood up and went into the en suite.

‘Back in a second.’ He said as he kept my stare until the door was closed.

I started to feel excited. Wondering what was going to happen next.

Before I knew it, the door of the en suite opened and sexy blond guitar god appeared….naked. Amazing body, the slight sign that he worked out, great legs, tight ass, amazing long blond hair, falling all around his arms, masking the tattoos that were there, and staring right at me, was a huge turgid cock!

His cock was so impressive. I sat on the bed stunned by its presence. It pointed straight up, full of blood, lust and cocaine. It almost reached his tummy button. So thick. My first thought after how much I wanted it in my mouth, was I was nervous I couldn’t take it. I’d never had a cock that big before.

I could see the base of it, it had an enormous girth, I reached out and touched it, tracing gently up and down its shaft with my long nails and then I had to grasp the girth of it in my fist.

The thick sturdy base pulsed in my hand; I could feel the ataköy escort wetness develop in my pussy, and almost feel my pussy open, like it was a separate entity, wanting to be fucked by this huge cock.

I kept imagining what my pussy lips would look like, being stretched as he pushed himself all the way inside of me, but yet here he was just standing at the side of the bed next to me.

I looked down at the flimsy material of my top and realised that the instant arousal at the sight and touch of his cock had made my big nipples so erect they protruded through the lace of the bra.

‘Wow! Your nipples are incredible; they look like two fingers pointing out.’ And with those words he came over and took a breast in each hand and massaged them, cupping a whole hand each round them, and used his thumb to concentrate on the nipple trough the fabric of my top and bra. I couldn’t stop staring at cock as I held it, massaging it almost with slow movements, feeling it in my fist.

‘Take your bra off’. He ordered ‘I want to see your tits through that see through top’.

I slipped my hands under the top and did as I was ordered, and flung the bra over the room, I sat with my back poker straight, shoulders back, allowing my breasts to sit proud, with the voluptuous curve of the underside visible, and the nipples pointing out, allowing enough light through the material to make the areola visible.

I looked at him from under my heavy eyelashes, coy ‘You mean like this?’

‘Now that’s what I call Silver Dollars!’ he chuckled, I was mildly perplexed but as he chuckled, he pinched the nipples trough the fabric, and let his hands raise to rest on his hips, still standing at the side of the bed.

‘Stand up!’ he commanded, with a whispering tone to his voice.

I did as I was told, and he turned me round to face the bed, pushed my back so I had to bend over, as he moved my legs apart so they were straight, spread, with me, leant over the bed.

As I bent over I felt my tits swing heavily, braless within my top as gravity took its course. The fabric was rough on my sensitive nipples.

He stood behind me; I could feel that cock pressed up against my own ass as he leaned over me, running his hands under the top that my breasts were tightly restrained in, cupping his hands beneath them, taking the weight of each breast in his hands, like he was weighing them, and massaging them. He pulled on my nipples teasing them, teasing me, I wanted him to suck them, but he was in no position to do that. He was smelling my hair, my skin.

I felt his hands slip away, running down each side of my body, over my waist, hips, thighs, and my calves hidden inside my leather boots, until he was crouching on the floor with his hands on my ankles.

I could tell he was looking up my skirt, taking in the view of my fat pussy lips hidden inside my underwear, my big ass, the stocking tops, and I wondered if he could smell just how turned on I was by this whole scene.

It never occurred to me that the cocaine had removed every bit of apprehension from me, and this one night stand as it was turning out to be, the only one I had ever had in my life, was not going to be just simple straight sex. I knew this was going to be adventurous!

His hands slid up from my ankles, over the leather of my boots, onto the texture of fishnets, until he reached their tops, he slipped a finger inside the stocking tops and rimmed round the top, before his hands carried on their journey up my thighs, inside my thighs until they met the hot moist gusset of my panties.

He pushed my skirt, up over my big ass, exposing it to the candle light, exposing the suspender straps holding my stockings in place. Then I knew how wet I was.

I stood there bent over the bed, feeling the exposure and the colder air, hit the gusset of my panties, and the sensation went through me, the vulnerability of being exposed, and wet, my body screaming to be fucked, and fucked hard by the hard cock that had been in my hand. My nipples tingled, and my clit gave the odd kick, wanting it too.

I felt so aroused, and sensual, and feminine, and a slut all rolled into one. My pussy was hot, and slick, I was turned on at the thought of what he was seeing, and what he was experiencing, and smelling. I felt him slip his fingers inside of my panties, and worm their way through the folds of my pussy lips, his head not far from where his hands were.

‘I can smell you, you smell amazing.’

He rubbed my slit, and caught my clit, and when he did, it gave a kick, and I gave a gasp, electricity coursed through my veins, or so it felt. He reached up with both hands and grabbed my panties, and he slowly slid them down until they sat just above my black leather knee boots.

My hair hung down, and I was so aroused at the whole scene, my nipples tingled, raging at the thought of what would happen next.

I felt his head rest against my leg, and he inhaled, taking in my smells, as he rubbed his atalar escort face smelling me, up my thigh. The sensation of his facial hair against my skin both through the fishnet stockings and bare flesh was electrifying.

His fingers returned to give my pussy some well deserved attention, fingering me, inside, deep and his thumb focused on my clitoris. I felt my pussy juice be worked out of me with his finger action, and could hear the squelching when I tightened my walls around his fingers.

I felt the facial hair brush right up to my ass, rubbing against the cheek, his cheek on mine; he was still smelling, taking me all in.

He bent under me, removed his fingers, buried his head between my thighs and his tongue started licking, first the juice from his fingers then all around my pussy, his hands leaned on my ass cheeks, pushing them apart to let him closer to me, He bit and sucked on my pussy lips and then he finally made it to my clitoris, bent under me like some thirsty peasant, licking and lapping up my juices as they started to ooze from me, fingering me, as if to encourage more to come from me just so he could lap them up. All the time, his facial hair was stimulating me too, prickling against the soft shaved skin of my pussy lips.

It felt so so good!

He edged my panties completely off so I could open my legs a little wider to let him in more.

Every time his tongue flickered across my clitoris I gasped and made a small yelping noise, like he had hurt me, but this pain was so beautiful, so erotic, my knees giving way slightly at every touch. All that flooded my mind was how sensual it all was, how he must be so turned on at this stocking and leather clad bitch bent over a velvet bed.

He occasionally removed his finger so his tongue could take its place, and all the time his free hand was on an ass cheek, digging his nails in, pushing it apart, and then he ran his fingers down the crack of my ass, and as he fingered and licked and lapped from under me, he began to massage my bum hole softly. I could not believe how amazing that felt, how sensitive it was, how it doubled the pleasure.

I was breathing slowly, deeply, gasping and yelping, my pussy clenching around him.

I thought he would make me cum, but he didn’t. I am sure he didn’t want me spent just yet; after all we had all night. He lapped at my fat dripping lips, and let his fingers run under the belts that held my stockings up, his tongue darting inside of my folds in search for this lush nectar.

As suddenly almost as it stated, he stopped in his tracks.

‘You taste as velvety as that bed covers. Your pussy is divine.’

I looked round and smiled a wicked smile and watched as he licked his own lips, as if not to lose a single trace of me and stood up, reaching for the mirror, the white lines and the rolled bank note. He took another line, handed it to me and I did likewise.

He remained stood at the side of me while I sat on the bed. He stroking his massive member delicately, enjoying his own arousal.

I took a few sips of my Screwdriver, and reached out to feel his cock, that I so wanted in me, but I wanted to treat him the way he had treated me, still visualising the thick girth at his base stretching my pussy lips apart if I were to ride down him, grabbing at the base to feel just how immense it was.

‘Get on the bed.’ I ordered to him. ‘Sit with you back against the pillows, spread your legs apart.’

He jumped up on the bed and sat beside me, sliding his backside so he was sat up in bed with the pillows propping him up. The candle light caught in those winning eyes, they had mystery in them, I could never quite tell what he was thinking, and I took him in for a minute, the amazing hair, which on its own made parts of my body throb, his body, the huge cock, his soft sensual face, and beautiful smile.

He sat with his back resting on the pillows, upright, feet together at the soles so his legs were open, almost like he was in some sort of yoga stance. The position he sat made his cock look even bigger.

It must have been the effects of the drugs, but I had a need to taste him, get that cock in my mouth. I needed to suck him, see his face full of the bittersweet grimaces of pure pleasure.

I kneeled on the bed in front of him, taking his raging cock in my hand. I ran my hand up and down its impressive shaft, and I knew I wanted to feel it pulse in my mouth.

I bent over and took his cock in my hand, I made eye contact with him from under my long feathery eyelashes, pouting, seeing the expression on his face before I took him in my mouth. I licked the end of his throbbing head, making it wet, smothered in my own saliva, then I rubber it all over my lips, smearing my red lipstick all over the surrounds of my mouth. I watched him, stared into his eyes as I did this, and he groaned, bearing his teeth.

I licked his cock all over, making it wet, cupping his balls in my hand as I did so.

I could get a good hand right round his balls, so I could cup them, and massage them very delicately, as if they were two hollow eggs.

I maintained eye contact with him as I took his mass in my mouth, sliding it in slowly, delicately, like I had been tasked with sucking the most delicious treat I had ever tasted. It was hot to the touch, and skin so soft, all I could smell was his musky man smell, so domineering.

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