the other, working the whole length from the fat crown down to
the base. Grunting, I could feel the tension build. I pictured her on
her knees before me, that gorgeous chest of hers bare. I hadn’t
seen her yet, hadn’t stripped her down completely naked, but I
would. I’d do it soon and I’d see those luscious tits bare naked
and bouncing for me, ready to play with, her head tilted, throat
arched back, breasts out, nipples hard as I jerked my cock and came,
hard, all over her mounds. Spurting come out of me, full and thick, I
groaned loudly, picturing her so vividly.
But it was just me,
alone in a shower stall. The king of rock with countless groupies
waiting for me down the hall, and I was choosing to jerk myself off
in the shower. When was the last time I’d turned down pussy in
favor of my own hand? That would be…never.
Shaking my head, I told
myself that this was no big deal. I had this in check. I just needed
to get Ana out of my system. I wasn’t used to this bullshit
look-don’t-touch policy. Tomorrow we’d head to San Francisco, my
turf and my rules. We’d mess around and I’d get my head screwed
on right. Then everything would go back to being the same, exact way
it had been before. Now if only that didn’t sound so awful.
§
Ana wanted a hot
chocolate. Of course she did. Because she looked so freaking cute and
rosy standing there with me at Crissy field, like she’d just built
a snowman with Billy and Cindy-Lou.
But her ass in those
jeans didn’t look like a little kid. And believe me, I’d checked
it out plenty of times while we strolled around San Francisco. She
wore a fitted jacket and tall boots, leaving miles of slim-cut jeans
in between for me to admire. That ass, so perky and round and ripe. I
needed to take a bite right out of it.
But that would have to
wait for this afternoon. This morning we were on a PR mission,
hitting the highlights of San Francisco while photographers
strategically captured our candid moments. Right now, walking along
the waterfront with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background, I had
to admit, Lola knew her stuff. The light blue of the sky, the glassy,
deeper grey-blue of the ocean, and the brilliant reddish-orange
Golden Gate Bridge cast the perfect background for romance.
Not that that’s what
was really happening, of course. I was rehabbing my image while
trying to get into Ana’s pants. But I had to admit, all this posing
together, strolling and chatting wasn’t exactly torture.
“So you’ve lived
here for a while now?” Ana asked as we walked, arm in arm, along
the walkway.
“Since I was 19.”
“Did you move here
after you graduated high school?”
“Yeah.” I left out
the part about how I finally managed to get a G.E.D after being
kicked out of several boarding schools for failing grades and even
worse behavior. She didn’t need to know me that well.
“Did you come out
here for college?”
I scratched my head.
She was into books and all that, I knew that much. “Studying and I
aren’t exactly…” I brought my fingers together, intertwining
them, inseparable.
“No college?”
“Nope.” I felt
strangely nervous, like I actually cared what she thought of me. That
didn’t make sense. “I took a few classes when I first came out.
UC Berkeley has an extension school and you don’t have to apply,
you can just sign up.” And then not show up. Again with the
editing. Why was I trying to impress her? What was wrong with me?
“But then Connor
moved out and joined me and we got the band together and, you know.”
“You became a rock
star.” She filled in the blank.
“Yeah, that.” I
gave her what I hoped was a charming smile.
“So, no college
degree?”
“What, do you have a
problem with that?” Whoops, that sounded sharp and defensive.
“No, no, of course
not.” She patted my arm like I needed reassurance. I had to admit,
it felt good. “I’m just trying to get to know you. And I’ve met
your family. They seem like
the base. Grunting, I could feel the tension build. I pictured her on
her knees before me, that gorgeous chest of hers bare. I hadn’t
seen her yet, hadn’t stripped her down completely naked, but I
would. I’d do it soon and I’d see those luscious tits bare naked
and bouncing for me, ready to play with, her head tilted, throat
arched back, breasts out, nipples hard as I jerked my cock and came,
hard, all over her mounds. Spurting come out of me, full and thick, I
groaned loudly, picturing her so vividly.
But it was just me,
alone in a shower stall. The king of rock with countless groupies
waiting for me down the hall, and I was choosing to jerk myself off
in the shower. When was the last time I’d turned down pussy in
favor of my own hand? That would be…never.
Shaking my head, I told
myself that this was no big deal. I had this in check. I just needed
to get Ana out of my system. I wasn’t used to this bullshit
look-don’t-touch policy. Tomorrow we’d head to San Francisco, my
turf and my rules. We’d mess around and I’d get my head screwed
on right. Then everything would go back to being the same, exact way
it had been before. Now if only that didn’t sound so awful.
§
Ana wanted a hot
chocolate. Of course she did. Because she looked so freaking cute and
rosy standing there with me at Crissy field, like she’d just built
a snowman with Billy and Cindy-Lou.
But her ass in those
jeans didn’t look like a little kid. And believe me, I’d checked
it out plenty of times while we strolled around San Francisco. She
wore a fitted jacket and tall boots, leaving miles of slim-cut jeans
in between for me to admire. That ass, so perky and round and ripe. I
needed to take a bite right out of it.
But that would have to
wait for this afternoon. This morning we were on a PR mission,
hitting the highlights of San Francisco while photographers
strategically captured our candid moments. Right now, walking along
the waterfront with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background, I had
to admit, Lola knew her stuff. The light blue of the sky, the glassy,
deeper grey-blue of the ocean, and the brilliant reddish-orange
Golden Gate Bridge cast the perfect background for romance.
Not that that’s what
was really happening, of course. I was rehabbing my image while
trying to get into Ana’s pants. But I had to admit, all this posing
together, strolling and chatting wasn’t exactly torture.
“So you’ve lived
here for a while now?” Ana asked as we walked, arm in arm, along
the walkway.
“Since I was 19.”
“Did you move here
after you graduated high school?”
“Yeah.” I left out
the part about how I finally managed to get a G.E.D after being
kicked out of several boarding schools for failing grades and even
worse behavior. She didn’t need to know me that well.
“Did you come out
here for college?”
I scratched my head.
She was into books and all that, I knew that much. “Studying and I
aren’t exactly…” I brought my fingers together, intertwining
them, inseparable.
“No college?”
“Nope.” I felt
strangely nervous, like I actually cared what she thought of me. That
didn’t make sense. “I took a few classes when I first came out.
UC Berkeley has an extension school and you don’t have to apply,
you can just sign up.” And then not show up. Again with the
editing. Why was I trying to impress her? What was wrong with me?
“But then Connor
moved out and joined me and we got the band together and, you know.”
“You became a rock
star.” She filled in the blank.
“Yeah, that.” I
gave her what I hoped was a charming smile.
“So, no college
degree?”
“What, do you have a
problem with that?” Whoops, that sounded sharp and defensive.
“No, no, of course
not.” She patted my arm like I needed reassurance. I had to admit,
it felt good. “I’m just trying to get to know you. And I’ve met
your family. They seem like
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