Backstage Pass by LunaFlower

It's amazing what you can do with a piece of laminated card. It wasn't much bigger than a credit card and yet it enabled me to turn the steward's face from one of open hostility to one of open indifference as I flashed it smugly at him and slipped backstage. He didn't recognize me; there was no reason why he should.

Once there of course it was a different matter. One of the stage technicians saw me and wandered over.

'Hi ya, just arrived?'

'Yeah. Plane got in an hour ago.'

'Well you've timed it well, they're on the encore. Does he know?'

'Nope.'

A sly smile from the techie.

'So where am I going then?'

'Round the corner, second door on the left, you can't miss it.' And he laughed so I guessed it was labelled up as per usual.

Finding the room I turned the handle and entered.

A young girl, couldn't have been more than sixteen, lay sprawled on the couch. She looked up defiantly at my entrance.

'Sorry love, not going to happen.'

'Says who?' she challenged.

'Me.'

She saw my pass and her face darkened even further but she didn't recognise me either. I guess she thought that I was part of the security team. Proof if ever it was needed that memories really do fade, and judging by her face, in less then two years. Oh well who cares what she thought, the main thing was she peeled herself up off the couch and slunk towards the door.

'Don't worry honey, you can still tell the BBS that you made it as far as his dressing room.'

She flipped me the finger and left.

I dread to think what would have happened had I not turned up. Actually I know exactly what would have happened and she would have dined out on it for months. Once she had actually been able to sit down long enough to dine that is.

I could hear movement outside and knew that they were about to leave the stage.

Kicking off my shoes I arranged myself on the couch pretty much as the groupie had except with a lot more refinement and finesse.

Undoing the top few buttons on my shirt, I stretched my arms above my head and struck a pose.

I didn't have to wait long.

Footsteps, voices, paused in the corridor then the door opened and he stepped in.

'Hi there.' His voice betrayed his surprise, his eyes his excitement.

'So tell me,' he leant back against the door, quietly sliding the bolt home, 'what's a wicked girl like you doing in a place like this?'

'Waiting for you to fuck me.'

'Hmm,' he walked over to where I lay, seduction in his every step, 'that could be arranged but first I need to have a shower, I'm all hot and sweaty.'

'Don't bother', I grabbed his arm as he past by, restraining him, 'you're only going to get all hot and sweaty again.'

His eyes met mine. 'Good point.'

He ran his fingers down my arm and then grabbing me by the hand pulled me onto the floor.

I landed with a thump but before I had time to register any protest he was astride my hips, his lips on mine, hard and demanding, forcing my mouth open with his hot tongue.

As we kissed his hand roamed down under the waistband of my leather trousers.

'Commando eh?' He murmured against my lips, 'My favourite.'

Like I didn't already know.

His nimble fingers made quick work of the zipper, his lips working their way down over my neck and collarbone as he pulled the creaking fabric down.

My fingers already rushing to undo the remaining buttons on my shirt.

'Hmm, it would be a shame if your screams alerted anyone to what was going on in here.'

I smiled. He got daring when he was hyper.

He leant back on his heels and glanced around the room.

His eyes alighted on something that would serve his purposes and stretching over me he retrieved one of his ever present fluffy white towels.

He advanced towards me like a panther towards its prey.

Twisting the towel lengthways he forced it between my lips.

'That's better.'

His hands went to the front of my trousers, drawing the zipper down and sneaking under me to push up against my most imitate area. He smiled as his fingers stroked over my cock, setting my already aroused body further alight, a strangled moan escaping from the corners of my mouth.

'Ooh so wet and all for me.'

He withdrew his hands and licked his fingers appreciatively, his eyes dark and blazing.

So he wanted to play? Well that was fine by me.

I sat up and grabbed another towel, quickly flipping it over and over as he had done.

'Spoilsport.' He muttered as I imitated his actions on him.

Now all we had to convey our desire was our eyes and our bodies but that was more than enough.

He stood up and pulled his sweat-soaked mesh top over his head, making quick work of his trousers, underwear and boots.

My shirt had fallen open and now his hands roamed freely over my chest, my nipples, my stomach, the rise and fall of my rib cage speeding up, the fabric of my makeshift gag moist from my increased breathing.

Just the tips of his fingers skimmed over the exposed skin of my body. Teasing.

I reached down between us and took hold of his cock, working him, smearing his own pre-cum over his hardened length, lightly using my fingernails to elicit a muffled curse of pleasure. Oh I knew just how he liked it.

My hands moved to the firm flesh of his buttocks leaving him in no doubt as to the urgency I felt.

My trousers got dragged all the way off and instantly he was in me, giving me no time to settle to the feel of him before he was withdrawing and thrusting in again.

I swallowed my own gasps, the pain unbearable but I knew temporary.

With his next thrust came the pleasure.

His hands were on either side of my head supporting himself as best he could.

My hands grabbed onto whatever part of his body I could grasp as he pounded me ferociously into the carpet. His deep-throated grunts and my unintelligible cries the only sounds beside the noise of heated skin on heated skin.

The coarse utility carpet cut into my skin, friction burns forming on my shoulders and thighs but I was long past caring.

Forcing myself to keep my eyes open he did the same, maintaining eye contact for as long as possible.

The oncoming headrush caused me to quite literally see stars and I could contain it no longer. He continued to push in and out of me as I crashed over, nearly passing out as I struggled to breathe solely through my nose.

I re-opened my eyes to see that his were tightly closed, fresh sweat beading over his arms, his neck. I longed to be able to lick it off, my hands moving frantically over his slick back, willing him on, urging him.

Throwing his head back he came. His passion washing over him in waves, his outpouring overflowing and trickling down my inner thighs.

Gradually his movements slowed, exhaustion setting in.

Collapsing on top of me he panted, also struggling to draw in enough oxygen to satisfy his needy lungs.

He trembled against me as I wrenched the towel from his mouth, spitting out my own.

Instantly our mouths were on each other, breathing heavily, desperate for air yet just as desperate for each other.

As he lay his head in the crook of my neck I stroked his damp hair.

'By the way,' I said, curling a stray strand around my finger, 'Happy Birthday Dozer.'