Chapter 22 #2
“No doubt, which is why I’m holding back the pleasure. Your pretty girl throat is going to be a fucking dream, and as for that sweet pussy.” He blows a chef’s kiss, so reminding me of another star, the gorgeous Heath.
“You okay?” Vinnie asks, obviously noticing my blink of recognition.
“More than okay,” I tell him. “Just feeling a bit… desperate.”
“Worry not, my sweet little whore,” he says before hoisting me back up to a sitting position. “You’re gonna have the time of your life when I fuck you into oblivion.”
“You more of a pussy or an ass kinda guy?” I ask him, running my fingers over the bulge in his pants.
He’s big, but I knew that from pictures onstage.
“Both,” he says.
“Do you like guys as well as girls?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. Not really. Tried it a couple times. Not really my gig. I don’t mind watching it, though. I’ve seen plenty of hot girls and guys getting ploughed by roadies. That can give me a boner.”
“Nice.”
“Sometimes. Sometimes it’s boring as fuck, when the girls are just leapfrogging to get to me.”
“Flattering, though.”
“Desperate more like. It’d be better if they came right on up to my door and asked for a ride.”
I laugh, running my fingers over his shoulders.
“Sure, like your security team would let them waltz on up with a hey, there. You’d never have any free time. The queue would be ten miles long.”
He brushes his thumb across my lips.
“I used to be a hell of a lot less picky. Fame went to my dick for a while as well as my head, but that fades, same as the rest of it. It’s only the real stuff that stays.”
I smirk.
“Hmm. The real stuff like wanting to sample the goods of a hooker you saw on a wannabe wanker’s phone screen?”
I adore how he peppers kisses across my cheek with his thick, wet lips.
“Good job your Agency are such a great security team for you, or you’d be subject to the same kind of queue.”
“Ha. Hardly. But seriously, I’m grateful,” I tell him. “It’s hot to be wanted enough to have to scout through my proposals inbox. A lot of them make me horny as fuck.”
“I’m glad you chose mine.”
“How could I ever turn it down? You’re in the six-figure bracket. That’s horny as fuck in itself.”
He lets out a deep breath, pitting his brows.
“You’re selling yourself short again, fuck-doll. I was testing the water. Add another zero on that figure and show your pretty girl face to the world, proud and free.”
The idea of being in the spotlight gives me jitters down deep, so I switch the focus to his spotlight instead.
“Do you have a music room here?” I ask.
“That’s kinda a given, don’t you think? A music room, recording studio, grand piano I can’t even play. You name it, I got it.”
My cheeks hurt from grinning.
“Can we take a few minutes for a private performance? Please? It’s me who should be paying you seven figures for that.”
“Let’s barter. I’ll give you a performance if you give me one as I do it. I sing, you strip for me, fuck-doll. Do we have a deal?”
I shake his clammy, wet hand.
“It’s a deal.”
“Then let me lead the way.”
I readjust my sopping panties once I’m back on my feet, tugging down my latex dress and hoisting the straps back up over my shoulders to cover my tits.
I slick back my dripping hair, and sashay my hips in prep for the walk as Vinnie grabs another bottle of De Chante from the fridge.
And then we’re off. He gestures me on in front of him, and I look around in astonishment at the sheer scale of his manor as we make our way to the performance.
This place has everything from neons, to strobes, to street art, to framed classics and antique stained glass windows. He points out a room off to the right which is nothing but darkness. I can’t see a thing inside. It’s like a black hole.
“It doesn’t have a light or any windows,” he tells me. “That’s my thinking room. Where I let any demons out to play.”
“Demons?”
“We all have them, fuck-doll. I like to see mine in full view, warts an’ all, and then I’ll either tell them to get fucked and send them on their way, or give them a space in my song lyrics.”
I flash him a grin over my shoulder.
“What about the angels? We all have angels, too.”
“I’ve got one right in front of me, I reckon.”
“I’m not exactly an angel, rock god.” My heart is thumping to a crazy beat. I look at him with adoration. “For real, what do you do with the angels? You have angels as well as demons, I know that. We all do.”
He takes hold of my throat, planting a kiss on my jawline.
“I keep them for the high notes, and set them free. I value the angels just as much as the demons. Sometimes they scream the loudest.”
His words touch me, and I get it. So many of his tracks have those lines. Ones that hit me right in the ribs. They come in at the most unexpected places sometimes, heart to heart, like the vocals are slamming into my very core.
Vinnie takes my hand this time as we walk on. The grip of his fingers in mine is magic, and I do feel like Alice walking in Wonderland. Dorothy and the tornado is far behind me. My own demons finally singing with my angels.
“Here we are,” Vinnie says when we reach a door at the end of a long burgundy hallway.
He opens it up and my jaw drops for the hundredth time so far tonight. There is a full band set up in here. Drum kit, keyboards, guitars and massive speakers. And there, in the centre, is the mic stand. Oh my fucking God!
My flutters reach their crescendo as he drops my hand and takes position, holding the stand like he does on stage. It’s so surreal, I can barely breathe.
He reaches off to the side and presses some buttons on a mixer deck, and the beat starts up, loud.
He gestures to me like he does to the crowd, raising his arm in the air, and mouthing me to dance, dance, DANCE, and I do dance. I let the beat rip through me and find the groove, remembering all the times I bounced my heart out to this tune on rock club dancefloors.
I let my angels and demons run free as Vinnie starts up with the vocals, swaying, and running my hands down my soaked latex dress as I watch him like an adoring fan. But he’s looking at me right back. Just the two of us in a personal show.
Insanity.
Pure and utter insanity.
We’re both performing, both in the spotlight, but both being ourselves as he bellows out my favourite tune.
It feels natural in the absurdity.
I slide the straps of my dress back down and free my tits, so they jig to the bass.
I sing along to the words as I sashay and drop to a crouch, tugging my dress up and over my hips as I rise.
I tug the latex dress off and I swing it over my head before casting it aside, performing for him in nothing but stockings, stilettos and my sopping wet thong.
My thong is off by the time the main line comes, thrown in his direction. I’m teasing my clit as I mirror his words, dancing my heart out for him as he performs for me.
It’s like heaven on earth.
And it doesn’t stop.
Another track starts up, and I keep on dancing as he keeps on singing.
When he’s on song number three, I join him at the mic stand, using it as a strip pole as he pulls the mic free. I grind myself against it, using the pole to satisfy my thrumming clit as he belts out another classic.
I give him the very best show I can give. A pole dance on the best pole there could be.
Then my attention turns purely to him.
I’m on my knees when his demons find their voice on his deepest song. I’m at his crotch, freeing his dick from tight leather as his angels scream high at the peak.
And what a glorious cock it is. Thick and veined with a decent curve to it – just how I like it.
I wrap my fingers around it and lick a wet line from the base to the tip, and then I suck him. Hard.
I bob my head as he thrusts his hips, matching his rhythm as I stare up at the god on his private stage.
He tosses the mic to the side once the song is done, and grabs my hair to face fuck me like a beast. He’s sweating, raw and wild, fresh from performing, and so am I.
I choke and retch and slop over his veiny hard dick, my own angels and demons rioting in harmony as he kicks off his trousers and gives me his naked body in all its glory.
Vinnie Hampton fucks me on the floor of his private music room. He pounds my pussy with his mic tossed on the floor beside us, under a spotlight of brilliance as the pleasure rips through me.
We’re a tumble of bodies, revelling. Him on top, then me on top, then him again as he holds me firm and takes control, his guttural groans on the edge of release as he slams with everything he has.
And then, when he’s done, he collapses on top. His perfect grin is a delight as he stares down at me.
“So glad I found you,” he says, and I laugh, covered in his sweat as well as mine.
“Same goes, rock god. Same goes.”
It’s boiling hot in the music room. I’m breathing deep in the stifling air when he gets to his feet and pulls me up with him.
“Wanna roar with the lion?” he asks. “It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for months, since the beast arrived on a truck and the lights got installed.”
“I’ll roar with any lion you have,” I giggle.
“Glad you like ice then, cos it’s gonna be cold out there.”
I squeal as he races out of the music room, my hand in his. He jogs, on a mission, and I follow in my stilettos, heady from De Chante and cock and rock.
Fuck me, it’s bitter cold when we reach the front door and he swings it open. November is well and truly showing its face now. The purples of the pillars take me aback again, as though we’re on a whole new stage, but Vinnie veers off to the right, to the massive lion statue, glowing red.
“You for real?” I ask him when he pats the back of the stone beast and offers a leg up.
“Always.”
“This is… precarious.”
“That’s when it’s most fun. Risks make life worth living.”