Bad for You

By: Candy J. Starr

I nodded my head but, on the downward nod my head became so heavy, I almost toppled off the sofa. I righted myself though, just as some amazing creature walked through the room.

She had hair flowing over her shoulders like silk that bounced as she walked. Short shorts that made her long legs look even longer, and a skimpy little crop top, showing off some premium tits. She walked straight toward me and sat herself on my knee. I’d never met her before but she looked familiar. I think she might’ve been a model.

She didn’t talk, just fastened her lips onto mine. A few of the guys whooped and called but, for all that she was a looker, she had no technique. All tongue and brute force, no subtlety. Also, she had a faint taste of fish, like she’d been eating cat food.

When she stopped, I noticed those two fans standing near me. For some reason, it made me feel ashamed. Shame was a pretty unknown quantity in my life normally. I had no time for that shit. The blonde one looked disappointed though, and even though I shouldn’t have cared one tiny bit, I really didn’t want to disappoint her.

“Thanks for the party,” the blonde one said.

She didn’t look at me though. She kept her eyes on the door.

“Hey, guys, have I introduced my friends… ah…” I’d forgotten their names. No, I remembered. “Field and Flower? They are big fans of ours.”

The blonde kind of winced. “It’s Daisy. Daisy and Meadow.”

“I was close though.” I grinned but she didn’t grin back.

The leggy model chick still sat on my knee. “Well, bye then, if you’re going.”

I felt bad for the two of them so I slid the fish mouth off me and stood up. Well, I tried to stand up. The booze hit me as I stood and the room spun. I put my hand out to steady myself, reaching for the nearest solid surface. I think I grabbed one of the girls. I wanted to walk them out, be all polite and that kind of shit but I couldn’t walk. Hell, I’d be lucky not to throw up.

And they’d already seen me pissing.

Ha, that was funny.

“Don’t tell anyone about the pissing,” I said. But I must’ve said it louder than I intended. People looked at me. “Private joke.”

I think that all came out a bit slurred and wrong. Hopefully no one understood.

That ball sack journo came over though. He looked like he was going to ask the chicks about it. That guy bugged me. He bugged me so much. Stupid questions. Stupid interviews.

I didn’t mean to hit him, I just wanted him to go away. I swung and he kind of moved forward as I gained momentum. Next thing I knew, he was sprawled out on the ground and someone led me away. I turned back to check out my work. Nice going, the dude was out cold.

Chapter 6.Daisy

This day would go down as one of the greatest days in my life ever. Not only had I gotten to meet Devon, he’d personally invited us to go drinking backstage with him. And, if I ever doubted that it really happened, I had those photos on Meadow’s phone.

Once we got to the party room, Devon wandered off. Of course I couldn’t expect too much of his attention. We were nobodies and these other people were probably his friends. Meadow and I grabbed drinks and sat in a corner. My plan had pretty much ended there.

“So, what do we do now?” I asked.

“Enjoy the free booze and check out hot rockers,” she replied. I noticed she had her eye on Brett, the drummer.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t take my eyes off Devon, even if that did make me seem a bit freakish. I wanted to burn this whole night into my brain, recording it permanently with my retinas. I’d never get a chance like this again. Admiring someone from afar is great but admiring them from across the room is even better.

I tried to take in everything. The way his hand held the vodka bottle with his fingers splayed, the twitch at the corner of his mouth when someone said something that amused him, the way he sat with his legs sprawled.

The fact that I’d seen his cock didn’t even register on my brain. It was too huge, too immense. Not his cock, the seeing of it. Although, size-wise, it wasn’t too shabby either.

I shook myself to stop my thoughts. I could not be sitting in the same room as him, thinking about his cock. That was just dirty and wrong. I had to focus on the way his hair curled onto his face, the strong jawline — there was some tension there, even though he tried to keep things friendly. He leaned back on the sofa, interlocking his fingers and stretching his arms over his head. When he did that, a peek of his stomach showed. Oh, that stomach, those abs.

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