A gay story: The Adventures of Boipussy Pt. 10 Ass To Mouth arrived in Austin the day before the first show. Candii, the rep from Swallow Records, spared no expense, booking the entire touring party into the most expensive hotel in town. The bands checked in while their roadcrew transported gear to the venue for tomorrow’s performance. A2M’s roadies used the time to get to know the roadcrews working for other bands. It was going to be a tight couple of weeks, and if this thing was going to be a success, everyone needed to be on the same team.
Pete and Carlos perched on stools at the hotel bar, each with a cool beer in front of them. A little later, the other two members of A2M showed up and they each grabbed ales of their own. They chatted aimlessly for a while before Carlos dropped the bombshell — he and Pete were gonna get hitched.
A2M’s bass player and their other guitarist congratulated their bandmates on getting engaged. They were genuinely happy for them both. They understood now why Carlos and their drummer were such an inseparably tight unit on the Canadian tour.
Their bass player’s initial reaction was ‘a married couple in the band will make us stronger’.
Their other guitarist immediately thought of Fleetwood Mac. If you know, you know. If A2M could sell as many records as Fleetwood Mac did, he’d gladly deal with the emotional fallout when Carlos and Pete inevitably broke up. They’d write suggestively nasty yet commercially successful love/hate pop songs about each other, and the fat royalty checks would roll in for the rest of their lives. Yep, he could definitely live with that.
Inwardly, each of A2M’s four band members felt nervous about the next two weeks. They weren’t about to play a one-off show at Eternal, where everyone in the crowd knew them. And this wasn’t a mini-tour of Canada either, a place where they were completely unknown and where it probably wouldn’t have mattered all that much if they failed. This was somewhere in-between, somewhere much more challenging, with bigger crowds. This was a serious roadshow, the kind of tour they’d dreamed about since the band first formed. There was pressure: the band’s career could potentially die from word of mouth following a bad show.
On the flight to Austin, Carlos read a book about Prince. In his early days, Prince was a very nervous performer, sometimes throwing up before taking the stage. Carlos was surprised to learn this. He’d always thought Prince was a supremely confident performer, completely at ease with his own stage presence. Apparently, whenever he felt nervous, Prince’s secret weapon was to pretend the audience just wasn’t there, imagining he was rocking out in his local rehearsal room or in someone’s garage.
If he felt anxious tomorrow, Carlos was gonna try to put this theory to the test.
Six bands were on the bill, and even though they’d played with Boipussy many times and knew them well, they didn’t know anyone in any of the four other bands they’d be spending the next two weeks with. Sure, they’d listened to them online, so they could at least talk about music backstage, but that’s not the same as meeting face to face. Pete desperately hoped the other bands weren’t douchebags. Egos can easily get out of control in the music business, even at this low level.
Both Pete and Carlos were looking forward to seeing the headliner, Hypnosissy, perform. They liked the music of all four bands, but they were into Hypnosissy’s sound the most. They sounded dark, brooding, insistent and hypnotic.
A thirsty Ace showed up at the hotel bar, fresh off a short flight from Miami, in search of a cool drink. He saw A2M gathered at a table, but they didn’t see him. He tiptoed across to where they were sitting and grabbed Carlos’s waist from behind.
Carlos nearly jumped off his stool in shock before he realised who it was. He turned around to greet Ace with a gigantic smile and they hugged.
“What, is that all I get?” pouted Ace. His long blonde hair fell down the back of his tight denim jacket. “Gimme a kiss, Carlos!”
Carlos pressed his lips to Ace’s. Ace grabbed Carlos’s jaw and forced his tongue deep into his mouth. Carlos was initially surprised — they were in a hotel bar! — but he eventually submitted.
It was enough to make Carlos’s dick twitch. Even the bartender, watching from afar, popped half a boner.
“And who do I find over here?” asked Ace rhetorically as he slinked towards Pete. “Fuck, sexy dude, so good to see you again!” Ace ran his hands through Pete’s shoulder-length red Irish hair and kissed him just as hard. Pete rammed his long tongue so deep into Ace’s mouth it nearly made him gag.
Ace broke the kiss, coughing slightly. “I forgot your tongue was a weapon of mass destruction.”
Pete blushed. “Sorry, Ace. And sorry to your tonsils, too.”
Carlos motioned for Ace to join them at their table, moving an unused stool across from an adjacent table. He waved at the bartender and a cool beer arrived. They all knew Swallow was picking up the tab. Ace took a seat between Carlos and Pete.
“I don’t know about you boys,” Ace began, wrapping an arm around each of Pete’s and Carlos’s waist, “but it feels like I’m on the cusp of the best time of my life. I can’t thank you enough for putting in a good word about us to Swallow. We’re well aware that Boipussy isn’t as well-known as Ass To Mouth …”
“We’re not very well-known either!” Carlos interrupted.
“… that may be true, Carlos, but if it wasn’t for your good words and your sincere, kind references,” Ace boomed comically, “Boipussy would not be here.” He raised his beer. “I just want you to know how grateful we all are.”
Pete chuckled. “Under normal circumstances, you could express your gratitude by buying us a few beers, but unless I’m mistaken, the record label is paying for everything.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” said Ace, necking half of his beer, “I mean, I’m never gonna say no to free drinks, but how am I gonna thank you instead?”
“In the time-honoured tradition.” Carlos was keen to see how Ace might interpret his cryptically vague suggestion.
Ace disappeared under the table with the singlemindedness of a man on a mission. Pete felt a pair of hands pushing his knees apart, and two sets of fingers manipulating his zipper.
Carlos watched Pete’s facial expressions closely. He moved onto Ace’s vacant stool so he could sit next to his boyfriend.
Pete’s jaw suddenly dropped, and Carlos assumed Ace had taken his boyfriend’s shaft into his mouth.
In an attempt to project a semblance of normalcy, conversation at the table continued, though Pete himself had momentarily lost the power of speech. By now, all four members of Ass To Mouth had worked out exactly what Ace was doing under the table.
“Fuck, dude,” Carlos whispered into Pete’s ear, “this is the hottest thing ever.”
Pete looked helpless. His hands balled into fists. “He’s gonna make me cum so fucking hard,” he seethed. “I don’t think I can hold it back.”
“Fuck yeah,” Carlos replied. “Give it to him. Flood his mouth.”
Pete felt it beginning to build up. Ace was under the table and out of sight; there was no way to warn him. It kept building, and building, and building.
It felt like an elastic band snapped inside Pete’s balls. He’d rarely cum so hard. He tried hard not to moan as his thick load pumped down Ace’s throat, but he couldn’t help it.
Ace coughed a little before he swallowed. He resurfaced, licking his lips. “Is there any cum on my face?” He resumed his stool and casually sipped his beer.
“Yeah, just a little,” said Carlos, “just outside the corner of your mouth.”
Ace grabbed a napkin and dabbed his face.
Pete packed his wet cock back inside his pants and zipped himself back up. His nuts were empty and his dick was spent. His ex had sucked him completely dry.
Other than Pete, everyone around the table was hard. Carlos resisted the temptation to jack off in the bathroom.
This was gonna be a good tour. This was gonna be a huge couple of weeks.
Ace finished the rest of his beer, washing the remains of Pete’s load into his stomach. He made a show of swilling it between his cheeks before swallowing heartily.
Carlos tried to ignore his raging boner by trying to pull the conversation back on track. “Hey Ace, have Boipussy got any merch to sell?”
Ace wiped his mouth again, glancing edgily at Pete. “No, not really. We don’t even have copies of our demo CD with us. We’re just here for a good time, and for the … exposure.” With this, Ace stood up and unzipped himself. He flashed his semi-erect cock for a second or two before zipping back up again. “Got any ideas?”
“Huh?” Carlos replied. He was still thinking about what Ace just did. He remembered the time he got himself fired from a shitty office job by flashing his cock in his boss’s face. He didn’t last until lunchtime before security confiscated his pass and frogmarched him out of the building.
“About merchandise, dude,” said Ace. “Maybe we can get some t-shirts printed up?”
“T-shirts are an awesome idea,” Pete decided. Money was no object. “What would they look like?”
“OK. I’ve been thinking about this for a while.” Ace ventured over to the bar and returned with two cardboard beer coasters and a pencil. He began to draw. Pete looked across, impressed with his outlines. He leaned in closer, resting a palm on Ace’s shoulder.
Ace passed the finished sketches around the table. The centre of the design, destined for the front of the t-shirt, showed the base of a buttplug buried in an anus. A pair of fat cheeks were clearly visible, as was a heavy set of balls, which ruled out the possibility that this was a female ass. The top left-hand corner of the design displayed “ASS TO MOUTH” in capital letters, while the right-hand corner said “BOIPUSSY”. The back of the t-shirt, drawn on the second beer coaster, said “COCKS OUT!” in capitals, and a series of horizontal lines underneath were intended to display the tour venues and dates.
“The t-shirt will be black, of course,” Ace explained, “the image of the ass and balls on the front is grey lines on a square white background, the base of the buttplug is pure black, and the text is light purple.”
Carlos was impressed. “That looks fuckin’ awesome, man. Your sketches are incredible. We’d be honoured to share our first band t-shirt with Boipussy. But can you make this happen? Can you get these made in time? Like, overnight? First gig is tomorrow, dude. There isn’t much time.”
Ace looked uncertain. “Maybe. I know a guy who knows a guy, so let me see if I can pull a few strings. I’ve got software on my laptop and it won’t take me long to get a prototype design. If you trust me, I can try to get a small print run done by tomorrow, and we can scale up for later shows.”
“Make sure to get some bigger sizes,” said Pete. “We get a lot of chubby guys at our shows. Metalheads aren’t all rakes like you, Ace.”
Ace turned sideways in a comical disappearing act. He’d spent many years studying the biomechanics of guys who were into heavy metal. “I know, Pete. Trust me on this. We’ll split costs between both bands.” He paused for a second, scanning the table. “We good?”
Four fervent nods from the members of A2M.
“Then I’m gonna get started on this now,” Ace declared, before retreating to his hotel room to work on the layout. “The clock is ticking. See you sexy cunts tomorrow at the show. I can’t fuckin’ wait to get on stage.”
Nobody from A2M stayed up late. Tomorrow was a big day.
Candii, the record company’s rep, wandered into the hotel bar a little too late. She’d been anticipating a big night but was disappointed. She wondered where all the hot boys had gone tonight.
Pete and Carlos retired to their hotel room, though the ‘room’, if you could call it that, was probably bigger than either of their apartments. Neither of them needed anywhere near this much space. All of their gear was entrusted to the roadcrew, probably on a truck somewhere nearby. All they carried with them was their own personal luggage. This room was rockgod size. They weren’t sure why their record company had booked such an unnecessarily large room for them, unless they were planning to host a party in it.
Neither of them were in the mood for festivities tonight. Tomorrow loomed large. They showered and climbed into bed. They each wore t-shirts, but they were both naked from the waist down. Neither of them were hoping for nor expecting sex; their only hopes were for a good night of refreshing sleep before a big day tomorrow.
It felt a little warm, so Pete flipped on the aircon. Carlos watched the TV news for a few moments before turning off his bedlight. He flopped onto his back. “We need to go to sleep,” he stated.
“I know,” Pete replied, “but I’m not tired yet. Turn the TV off, it’s a distraction.”
“We need to be fresh for tomorrow,” Carlos persisted. He hit the remote, the TV fell silent, and their room was enveloped in darkness.
Pete stared at the ceiling, wondering when sleep might eventually arrive. “I know,” he repeated.
“We should try to go to sleep.”
“Yeah, I know,” Pete said again. “You said that before.”
They each lay on their backs, side by side, waiting impatiently for the sandman to enter. The cool of the aircon brushed across their chests. They felt frustrated, and Carlos caught himself frowning. Nobody in the history of the world has ever frowned themselves to sleep. He sighed and rolled onto his side, facing his boyfriend. He ran his fingers through Pete’s hair. “I guess I’m just feeling a little anxious about tomorrow.”
Pete nodded, rolling over to face Carlos. “Yeah. Me too.”
Carlos continued to stroke Pete’s thick, luscious hair. Their eyes met through the darkness. “I want you so fucking bad right now.”
Pete melted, and their faces smashed against each other as if in war. They gripped each other’s jaws, forcing their tongues into each other’s mouths. Pete reached down and found Carlos’s fat Mexican shaft. He stroked it a few times while his tongue remained buried in his boyfriend’s mouth. “I know how to help you get to sleep,” he whispered, before crawling under the bedclothes.
Carlos braced himself for the hurricane.
Pete impaled his face on Carlos’s cock, burying the entire length of his boyfriend’s shaft in his throat. Apart from essential services, Carlos’s brain had completely shut down. His hands were entangled in Pete’s hair. “Oh my fucking god, Pete, you’re gonna …”
Pete stroked hard and sucked even harder.
“Pete, I can’t … I’m fuckin’ gonna …”
Carlos’s balls tightened. Pete knew the signs. He prepared to swallow.
Carlos’s dick let loose, and Pete gulped down the torrents of his boyfriend’s salty-sweet semen. His work for the evening done, he scooted back up and kissed Carlos on the cheek.
A kiss on the cheek wasn’t enough for A2M’s lead singer. He rammed his tongue into Pete’s mouth, tasting his own load.
Pete stroked Carlos’s beautiful hair. “You gonna sleep now, my sexy Mexican?”
Through the darkness, Carlos gazed at the beautiful Irish face that’d just devoured the contents of his balls. “I think so.”
“We’re gonna fuckin’ rock the shit out of Austin tomorrow,” whispered Pete.
“Fuck yeah. And thank you for proving yet again that you can make me cum in less than a minute.”
Pete closed his eyes as the taste of his boyfriend’s sperm echoed on his tongue. “Te amo, Carlos.”
Carlos drifted off to a peaceful sleep with Pete’s arm draped across his torso.
*
Austin threw down some good weather for the first show of the COCKS OUT! tour — blue skies, and temperatures around 75. It was the perfect day for an outdoor festival, and thousands of long haired metalheads poured through the turnstiles. Most of the crowd knew who Hypnosissy and Femboy Hooters were, and some knew Beta Clinic and Kuntlapper, but hardly anyone had heard of the other two bands on the bill. But that’s the cool thing about festivals, right? Everyone gets to rock out to the bands they know and love while discovering new ones.
The Boipussy/A2M t-shirt consignment arrived. Ace had arranged for 50 to be printed and delivered — there was no point overcommitting before they’d even played the first show. Carlos thought Pete’s design came out even better than he’d expected, especially for something so last-minute. It looked perfect.
The bate room — a dedicated room on the side of the venue where men could jack off and watch others doing the same — was quiet early on. A curious few had checked it out early, but at this state of the day, nobody had undressed, let alone jacked off. It’d need a critical mass to truly fire up. Most of the crowd nursed cold beers, congregating around the on-site bars.
Around half past one, some of the audience began to drift toward the stage in anticipation of the metal onslaught.
Boipussy were first act on stage at 2pm. Nobody was pressed up hard against the barricade, but the crowd showed curiosity and interest. The band chugged out a slow, sexy riff before Ace took the stage, microphone in hand. The band sounded tight, and the crowd responded, loving this new band nobody had ever heard of.
Ace scanned the crowd and noticed all the cowboy hats. More cowboy hats than he’d ever seen in his life. Well, they were in Texas, so it made sense. Maybe Boipussy’s first record, if they ever got a chance to make one, should be called ‘Cowboi’. He mentally filed that thought away.
Fat buttplug firmly in place, Ace gyrated all over the stage for 40 minutes until it was time for the band to perform their final song. “We loved playin’ for all you sexy motherfuckers today,” he yelled into the mic, “an’ we hope you enjoyed our show. We’re from Florida, but we fuckin’ love Texas, an’ we’re gonna come back soon! Maybe some of you sexy cowboys can take me back to your ranch and show me a good time.” The crowd cheered. “But in the meantime, we got somethin’ we wanna leave y’all with.”
The small but growing crowd surged.
“We’re gonna leave y’all with a sample of my very own DNA.”
Ace threw his long, blonde hair back. He unzipped his jeans and unplugged his ass as Boipussy lurched into “Hot Load”. He held his dripping wet buttplug up to the crowd like a trophy. He fished his cock out of his denim and began jacking himself off. Just as the band reached the final chorus, Ace shot his load all over the stage. The cowboys went wild.
Candii was backstage, watching the show on CCTV. Boipussy’s frontman was as hot as lightning. She got hard. She wanted him.
After a short interval, Ass To Mouth took the stage. All four band members felt anxious, and a technical problem early on didn’t help. Carlos’s guitar didn’t sound right. He suspected there was a problem with his amplifier, but he couldn’t try to fix it in the middle of a song. The band continued to play, but the technical issue put him off his game. He glared at their roadcrew, not sure what was wrong, who to blame or whose fault it was, but looking at the crowd, he sensed there was a distinct lack of connection. The crowd weren’t into them at all. Everything sounded dull, like music through water. He couldn’t hear his riffs at all, and it felt like the band was sinking into metal quicksand. He turned back to try to catch Pete’s eye to see if his boyfriend had noticed anything amiss, but Pete was in the zone, completely oblivious, pounding the helldrums as if everything in the world was on satanic fire. Pete didn’t need to hear Carlos’s guitar through his in-ear monitors, just his vocals, so he didn’t even know there was a problem.
Carlos couldn’t follow Prince’s advice. He couldn’t pretend the audience wasn’t there. They were standing there right in front of him. Some of the crowd looked confused, and just as many looked bored. He felt too rattled to think, and their performance was becoming embarrassing.
One of their roadcrew raced onstage to flick an errant switch, and Carlos’s amp shot back to life. Almost immediately, he saw a swarm of metalheads bobbing up and down in time with the music. Problem solved. He grinned from ear to ear. Fuck yeah. This is what heavy metal is all about.
Candii watched backstage. A2M’s long-haired Mexican frontman was irresistible. She couldn’t decide between him and Ace, though she had no idea Carlos was engaged to his drummer. Her hand was down the front of her tight skirt, teasing her dick. She was so glad she’d booked these two relatively unknown bands for the tour. They were both incredible.
*
Candii appeared in the wings. “You boys sounded fucking awesome!” she enthused, wrapping her arms around Carlos’s neck as A2M came off stage.
“Thanks, I guess,” Carlos replied, unsure of the justification for praise. He felt unsettled. “We had a problem with my amp. I’m sure you noticed, and I’m sure the audience did too, even though most of them don’t even know who we are. It was a little embarrassing. We know what went wrong, and we’ll make sure it stays fixed.”
“Everything’s cool, Carlos. These things happen. Nobody’s gonna remember the way your set started, they’ll remember the way it ended.” Candii touched Carlos’s chest. “You boys were hot.” Candii bit her bottom lip suggestively as she ran her hands through Carlos’s sweaty afternoon post-gig hair. She smiled sweetly at him, moaning a little before suggestively sucking a manicured fingertip. She turned on her heels and walked away backstage, swaying her ass.
Pete watched from a respectful distance, catching his breath but saying nothing. His drumsticks were still in his hand. He remembered their pre-tour discussion, and if Carlos wanted to fuck her, he wasn’t going to get in the way.
Afternoon turned into evening as the other bands on the bill played their sets. The stage lights went out for a moment as the final act on the bill began their performance. A low synth note rumbled through ribcages.
For an hour, Hypnosissy’s dark riffs whipped the entire audience into a state of sexual delirium. The entire time they were performing, a massive screen behind them displayed a hypnotic spiral, overlaid with lurid images of hot men of all shapes and sizes, accompanied by sexually explicit captions.
Carlos stood close to Pete. “I’m feeling so fucking horny right now,” he yelled into Pete’s ear. He nibbled on Pete’s earlobe and grabbed his ass.
Pete was nearly hypnotised by the visuals that accompanied the music. He ground his ass back into Carlos’s palm as they submitted to the show, desperately wanting to feel something deep inside his hungry, unsatisfied boipussy.
The band left the stage at the end of their performance, guitar amps and bass rigs feeding back an enormous, earth-shattering rumble. Strobelights crackled in the darkness, piercing the dark night sky. For a few more moments, the screen displayed a loop of a fat, deliciously suckable dick, shooting thick ropes of sperm in slow motion. The bright lights eventually went on, signalling that the event was over, and the stage fell silent. The crowd roared back its gratitude as people began to slowly disperse towards the venue’s carpark.
“That was so fucking powerful,” said Pete, as Carlos hugged him from behind. Even though Hypnosissy’s set was over and the fuck-off lights had been turned on, his eyes were still focused on the screen, watching the loop of the delicious cock on the screen spewing cum. “I want that in my mouth.”
“I’m speechless,” Carlos replied, fixated on the image, “but my dick isn’t.”
Pete faced his boyfriend, kissing him hard. “If that band ever gets famous,” he said, pointing towards the now-vacant stage, “the whole fucking world is gonna be gay. I need a dick inside me right now so fucking bad. Like, right fucking now.” He grabbed Carlos by the t-shirt and dragged him to the nearest bathroom. Miraculously, there was a cubicle free. They claimed it and locked the door. Carlos pulled Pete’s pants down and ate his sweaty, musky ass out for a few seconds before violently fucking the shit out of him. The cubicle partition rattled with Carlos’s force.
Carlos grabbed Pete’s cock from behind and stroked him as he unloaded fast inside his boyfriend’s pussy. He felt liquid warmth flowing over his knuckles as Pete came in his hand.
“I think our next show is in Dallas,” Pete gasped, nearly whimpering. “Please, Carlos, fuck me slow when Hypnosissy are onstage.”
“Maybe we can fuck in the bate room?” Carlos suggested.
“I thought it was only for bating,” Pete replied.
“Let’s find out what the limits are. You want me to fuck you with dozens of thirsty dudes watching us?”
Pete imagined himself getting railed by his boyfriend in the bate room, with dozens of wet, hard, anonymous cocks surrounding him, waiting in line, eager to paint his face. “Just don’t make that part of our wedding vows.”
*
Ace showed up in the hotel lobby around 11am the next morning. Swallow Records had organised for the bands to enjoy a late breakfast and a late checkout. He still felt under the influence of Hypnosissy’s set from last night. He piled six fat sausages onto his plate, which was an odd culinary choice for a vegetarian.
Carlos and Pete appeared a few minutes later. “Hey, Ace,” Carlos greeted. “Awesome set yesterday. Boipussy fuckin’ rocked!” He looked at Ace’s plate and raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of meat. You gonna eat all that?”
Ace ignored the question. He took a sip of hot coffee through a straw. “Thanks, man,” he replied. “Sucks that we went on first, because the crowd is still building up while we play, but I totally get why. We’re the only band on the bill not signed to the label, and we only got invited because you guys put in a good word for us. I guess we’ve got a lot to prove.”
“We do too. The way I look at it,” Pete began, “this is an opportunity to climb the ladder. That’s what we’re trying to do. A2M could play at Eternal for the rest of our lives if we wanted to. It’d be fun, but it wouldn’t get us noticed anywhere else but Atlanta. This is our opportunity, and it’s yours too. And we’re on straight after you, so we’re not getting the bulk of the crowd either. But as an aside, I couldn’t help noticing you got the cowboys all worked up yesterday.”
Ace grinned evilly. “Yeah, I know.” He sucked some more coffee through his straw.
Carlos chipped in. “It’s all about word of mouth, I reckon. Rock out, make an impression, make some connections, and sell some sneaky merch on the side. Oh, and have a kick-ass time while you’re doing it!”
“And speaking of merch,” Ace said, “I got some more t-shirts printed for the Dallas show. They’ll be delivered to the venue tomorrow in time for the show.”
“I don’t mean to change the subject, man,” Pete interjected, “but it looks to me like you’re drinking coffee through a straw.”
Ace sucked up another caffeine hit. “Yeah, so what?”
“Let me repeat myself,” said Pete. “You’re drinking coffee through a straw.”
Ace shrugged. “Tastes better that way.”
*
Today was a travel day, but they were only travelling from Austin to Dallas. There was no point flying such a short distance, so Swallow organised road transport. Three large semi-trailers were hired to move equipment, and two buses were on call to carry the band members and their crew to Dallas in time for tomorrow’s show.
The roadcrews were already hard at work while the bands were still eating breakfast. Their days were long and thankless, but working with other roadies was a good way to build networks and connections for their own fledgling bands.
Ace’s straw sucked up the final dregs of his coffee. “Did you guys see Hypnosissy’s set last night?”
Pete’s jaw dropped. “That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced in my entire fucking life,” he confessed. “Their sound was so dark it felt like the world could crack open at any minute, and the visuals that played on the screen behind them kept me hard for their entire set. People were jerking off all around us.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” said Ace. He was drinking a glass of orange juice now, with a fresh straw. After last night’s show, he felt a strange yet compelling need to have something in his mouth to suck on. It was a good thing Ace didn’t smoke, or he’d probably be dead by now. “I jacked off too. I just couldn’t help it.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t,” Carlos confessed. “I agree with both of you, I’ve never experienced a show like that in my life. Their music was dark and heavy, the band was tight, and those visuals feel like they’ve been tattooed onto my brain. I can’t wait to see them again at the next show. I was groping Pete’s ass the whole time they were on stage.”
Ace nodded. “And the giant dick relentlessly shooting cum as they walked off stage made me feel so thirsty.” He took another sip of his orange juice through his straw.
After checking out, they boarded the buses. Boipussy and Ass To Mouth travelled on one bus with Femboy Hooters; the other three bands travelled on the other bus. Pete and Carlos were sitting side by side. Ace sat on the seat behind them, sucking hard on a lollipop. His denim jacket lay on the vacant seat beside him.
“We ready to roll out, boys?” Candii stood at the front of the bus, next to the driver, holding a clipboard. She’d dyed her long straight hair flourescent pink for the tour, and she boarded the bus wearing bright pink lipstick on her fat Botoxed cocksucking lips. She wore a denim jacket (one size too small) over a tight black t-shirt that emphasised her large fake tits. She wore a long pair of leather boots, and Carlos assumed she’d bought the shortest skirt in the store. A black trucker cap, worn backwards, completed the ensemble.
Ace tapped Carlos on the shoulder. “Fuck, dude, who’s that? I thought this was a male only event!”
Carlos and Pete shared a brief knowing glance before Carlos turned around to answer Ace’s question. “She’s the rep for Swallow Records,” Pete informed. “She’s the one who’s planned and coordinated this whole tour. She’s also the one writing the checks.”
Ace remembered. “I think I spoke with her on the phone. She called to invite Boipussy on the bill, but I assumed she worked in the office. I didn’t think she was coming on the road with us!” He looked her up and down as she was going through the clipboard checklist. “Let me tell you something confidential, boys. It’s her loss that I’m gay,” he said. “If I was straight, I’d be all over her.”
Pete and Carlos suspected Ace was in for a surprise.
The bus began to roll out of Austin, enroute to Dallas. The trip would take around four hours.
Ace sensed a presence beside him. He smelt the merest hint of perfume. “Is anyone sitting here?” Candii inquired, flashing her fake eyelashes. “Would you mind if I sat next to you?”
Ace took the lollipop out of his mouth and glanced around the bus. There were plenty of vacant seats. He threw his jacket into the overhead storage area, clearing the seat for her. “No, I don’t mind at all,” he replied. “Seat’s all yours.”
Candii sat down beside Ace and introduced herself, holding her dainty, well-manicured right hand out for Ace to shake. “I caught your set yesterday,” she said. “I just wanna say I really enjoyed your show. You’re Ace, right? I’m Candii.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” Ace replied, accepting her hand. “Hey, so I know we’ve spoken on the phone once, but I don’t believe we’ve met face to face before.”
Candii smiled sweetly. “No, you idiot, we haven’t. That’s why I just introduced myself to you.”
Ace wasn’t sure what to say next. He had no idea whether Candii was being flippant or serious. Sure, she’d smiled at him, but he wasn’t sure how much to read into her facial expressions. He stared out the window for a mile or two, thinking that as part of the only band on tour not signed to the label, he should try to make a good first impression with her. He felt nervous.
“Thanks for inviting us on the road,” he said, sucking his lollipop. “Me and the rest of Boipussy really appreciate this opportunity.”
Candii offered no verbal response but nodded in appreciation. “By the way, I love the name of your band,” she said. “What gave you the inspiration?”
Ace turned around to see if any of his bandmates might want to contribute to the answer to Candii’s question, but they were goofing around at the back of the bus, completely oblivious to the conversation their lead singer was engaged in.
“It’s hard to say. I liked it when I first heard it, but I don’t think I was the one who first suggested it. As a band, I think we were just trying to find a name that’d shock people,” Ace replied. “A bit like these guys.” He pointed to Pete and Carlos sitting on the seat in front of them. “It’s hard to imagine either of our bands getting played on the radio.”
“We have the internet nowadays, Ace,” smirked Candii. Once again, Ace wasn’t sure how to take her comment. He continued sucking on his lollipop.
Moments passed in awkward silence. It was rare for Ace to be stuck for conversation, but on the other hand, it was rare that he needed to make small talk with a woman. He didn’t speak to women very often. Maybe he was out of practice.
“Hey, can I have a suck on that?” Candii asked.
“What, this?” Ace pointed to his mouth, yet at the same time, tried to pretend ignorance. “You mean, my lollipop?”
“Yeah. Can I have a suck?”
“Sure you can.”
Ace took the lollipop out of his mouth and held it out for Candii to take. Instead, she sucked on it while it was still in his hand. She wrapped her hand around his knuckles and sucked hard on the sweet candy tip, caving her cheeks in. Her tongue made a show of licking the tip as she withdrew.
“Mmm. Strawberry. My favourite.” She looked into Ace’s eyes. “Thank you. That tasted nice.” She paused for a second. “Do you like candy?”
Ace wasn’t sure whether the woman sitting next to him was referring to his lollipop or to herself, but either way, he found himself suddenly questioning his sexuality. He nodded. He started to wonder if it was possible to be turned straight. “Oh, I’ve got something for you,” he offered.
“A present? For me?” Candii fluttered her eyelashes. “That’s so sweet of you!”
“It’s from Boipussy and Ass To Mouth, to say thank you for putting us on the bill.” Ace pulled a spare t-shirt out of his bag and gave it to Candii.
She held it up to take a good look. “Oh my god, this is amazing!” She checked out the image on the front of a buttplug wedged firmly in a fat male asshole, before checking out the back where the tour dates were listed. “Thank you so much, Ace! Would you mind if I wore it today?”
“Of course not. In fact, we’d be honoured!”
Ace expected Candii to put the t-shirt into her luggage so she could change at their destination. Instead, she took off her denim jacket and passed it to Ace. “Hold this for me for a second?” She pulled the tight black t-shirt she was wearing over her shoulders, exposing her beautiful fake titties. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Ace’s hungry eyes ogled her rack. Her tits were covered in tattoos.
Candii pulled her new t-shirt back down onto her frame. Her firm nipples were clearly visible through the fabric. “Thank you so much!” she squealed, giving Ace a thank-you kiss on the cheek. “Oops, sorry, sweetie … wait, I left a pink lipstick mark on your cheek … here, let me just take care of that …”
Ace smelled Candii’s sweet perfume caressing his nostrils as she studiously rubbed her lipstick mark off his cheek. He could feel her breath.
“Done!” she declared. “Good as new!”
Ace popped a boner for a woman for the first time in his life.
“I really like this t-shirt,” Candii declared, turning in her seat to face Ace. “Really shows off my tits, don’t you think?” She pulled the front down tight.
“Yep,” Ace anxiously replied. He was so fucking hard right now. The influence of the Hypnosissy gig had dissolved. He bit into his lollipop to finish it off, consuming the rest of the sticky sweet candy.
“Tell me something about yourself, sweetie,” Candii inquired. “What does a gal like me need to know about a sexy boy like you?”
“I’m gay,” Ace blurted. He hoped that’d draw a line in the sand, but it didn’t.
“I know,” she replied, resting her hand on Ace’s trembling knee. “I saw your buttplug yesterday. I watched your set backstage and my eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw you pull your plug out. It didn’t look like you bought it from Buttplugs for Beginners either. It looked girthy as fuck. I’m proudly wearing a new t-shirt you just gave me that shows a man clearly enjoying the pleasure of anal penetration, and I watched you jerk off during your last song in front of a crowd of thirsty long-haired gentlemen.” Candii paused for a second before leaning a little closer. “Now I’m not a psychologist,” she whispered conspiratorially, “but I’m not sure these are things a typical straight man might do, so I just want you to know that your secret is safe with me.” Her hand was still on his knee. “What else do I need to know about you, sweetie? Besides being gay, that is?”
“Well,” Ace replied, “I come from Florida, and I’ve lived there all my life. I’m twenty-two years old, I have a shitty office job that pays the bills and helps keep Boipussy running, and more than anything else in life, I want to be a rock ‘n roll superstar.”
Candii nodded. “Very good answers.”
In an effort to keep the conversation flowing, Ace asked Candii the same question. “Can you tell me something about yourself?”
Without a word, Candii took her hand off Ace’s knee, grasped his nearest wrist, and guided his hand to her crotch.
Ace felt her warm penis underneath his palm.
He looked at her with wide, gobsmacked eyes. “Oh my god,” he breathlessly mouthed.
Seconds passed like hours before Candii leaned across and whispered in Ace’s ear. “You wanna play with my lollipop?”
Ace honestly couldn’t remember the last time his dick was this hard.
Carlos and Pete, sitting on the seat immediately in front of them, were listening to the whole thing.
Ace reached under Candii’s short skirt and fished her cock out of her panties. He felt it grow in his hand. He wanted to bend down and suck it, but the bus seats were tight, and there wasn’t enough room.
He spat into his palm and stroked her slowly, but it didn’t take her long. She gasped silently as her thick, warm load dribbled down Ace’s knuckles, pooling into her panties.
“Give me your hand,” she whispered, and Ace let her lick her load off his fingers. “Thank you,” she said, kissing him on the cheek again. This time, she left her lipstick mark in place, and Ace wore a pink smudge on his cheek for the rest of the ride.
Upon arriving at their hotel in Dallas, Candii excused herself, explaining that she had work to do.
Pete, Carlos and Ace disembarked and stood around in the hotel carpark, waiting for instructions about checking in. “You’ve got a pink mark on your cheek,” Carlos pointed out.
“Yeah, I know.”
“How’d it get there?” asked Pete. “Looks like lipstick. I thought you were gay. Fuck, you don’t even *know* any women. What gives?”
Ace grunted something unintelligible. His eyes were superglued to Candii’s pert ass as it swayed away from the bus toward the hotel. He wanted nothing more than to bury his cock in her juicy trans ass. “Wait here,” he said, sprinting to the nearest bathroom.
Carlos and Pete doubled over with laughter, knowing Ace would’ve taken no more than two strokes, three at best, to spray the bathroom wall.
They were right. Less than a minute later, Ace trudged back to the hotel carpark. “You must’ve been bursting,” teased Carlos.
“Yeah,” Ace replied. “Long bus ride.” He looked around edgily. “I really needed that piss.”
*
The three boys were drinking beer and grabbing a bite to eat in the hotel restaurant later that night when Ace’s phone pinged. He read the message. It was from Candii. ‘8pm, room 1201’. Ace finished his food so fast he burped. “You guys have a good night tonight, hey?” he said, wiping his mouth.
“Where you headed to?” Pete asked. “What’s the hurry? Thought we could have a few quiet drinks tonight in the hotel bar.”
Ace looked impatient. “Maybe some other night. Gotta go. Catching up with an old friend.”
“Huh? In Dallas?” Carlos looked confused. “You’ve lived in Florida all your life. Who the fuck do you know in Texas?”
“A guy I went to school with. He was an exchange student.”
Pete was trying so hard not to laugh at Ace’s terrible attempt to cover his tracks that tears were escaping the corners of his eyes. “An exchange student? What the fuck, dude? Wait, let me get this straight. You’re meeting up with an exchange student who travelled the gruelling distance from Texas to Florida in search of a fresh perspective on life?”
Ace nodded. “It was part of the ‘Oil for Oranges’ program.”
Carlos slapped his knees, peals of laughter nearly throwing him off his bar stool. Pete held his stomach. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore either. “Oil for Oranges!” Carlos repeated. “That’s the funniest shit I’ve ever heard in my life!”
“Yeah, whatever,” Ace replied. He turned and left the hotel bar; he didn’t want to keep Candii waiting. He expected business; maybe she had a contract ready for him to sign. He took the elevator to the top floor and waited in the corridor until 8pm ticked over on his phone. He knocked on the door of 1201.
Candii opened the door, not wearing anything except a pair of lacy panties that barely contained her dick, plus the t-shirt Ace gifted her on the bus today. Her long pink hair was tied back in a pair of pigtails. “Good evening, Ace. Thank you for joining me, I’m so glad you could come. Would you like a glass of champagne? I’ve just opened a bottle.” The lights were dim.
“Thanks,” Ace replied. Within seconds, he was holding a tall, cool glass of bubbly in a shaking hand. “I can’t drink too much tonight, we’re the first band on stage tomorrow, and I …”
Candii placed a finger against Ace’s lips. She grabbed his hand and led him to the centre of the room. “I know,” she cooed, stroking his long blonde mane. “Tomorrow’s a big day, sweetie, and we all need an early night tonight.”
Ace felt hypnotised. He felt like he was in a trance.
Candii kneeled down, unzipped Ace’s jeans and pulled his cock out. “Now it’s my turn to suck on your lollipop.”
All of the nerve-endings in Ace’s body caught on fire as Candii’s inflated lips wrapped around his shaft. Her bright pink hair caught his attention as her mouth bobbed up and down on his cock.
“Your lollipop tastes sweet,” Candii cooed. She raked her tongue across the head of Ace’s dick. “I wonder what the gooey, creamy centre tastes like?”
Ace popped in her mouth. There was no way he could resist her.
“Mmm, tastes delicious.” She stood up and forced Ace’s load into his mouth with her tongue, kissing him hard. “See?” she said, flashing her lashes. “Just like I hoped, sweet and tasty.”
“You need to understand,” Ace stuttered, “you’re the first woman I’ve ever …”
Candii placed her finger against Ace’s lips once more. “Sssssh. It’s OK. We don’t need to talk about that right now. But I’ve got some games we can play tonight, if you’re in the mood.”
She threw back the covers of her queen-sized hotel bed, undressed and climbed in. Ace couldn’t take his eyes off her flaccid cock. “Come join me? I promise I won’t bite … unless you want me to, that is.”
Ace followed his dick towards Candii’s bed. He was still erect. He lay down beside her and she embraced him, pushing her massive plastic rack into his chest. She reached a hand down and cupped Ace’s scrotum. “You know what?”
Ace was nervous as hell. “What?”
“I tried so hard to empty your balls a minute ago,” Candii disclosed, “but I don’t think I managed to. I think there’s still some more cream in there for me, and I know how I’m going to get it.” She gave Ace’s nuts a light squeeze before reaching over to her bedside drawer. She extracted a buttplug. “Here. Let me put this inside you.”
Ace glanced at the plug. It looked roughly the same size as the one he wore onstage, though possibly just a little bigger. “Is this the game?” he asked.
“Well … it’s part of it, I guess.” Candii drizzled some lube onto the plug and held it up. “May I?” The lube began to trickle slowly down her hand.
Ace rolled onto his side, facing away from her. Candii prised Ace’s cheeks apart and rubbed the wet tip of the plug across Ace’s opening. “You’ve got such a pretty boipussy, Ace. When we make your first record, I think the front cover should be a closeup picture of your hole.”
Ace wasn’t sure he heard right. He looked back over his shoulder. “Did you say *when* we make our first record?”
Candii giggled. “Course I did, sweetie. You think I’m letting someone as hot as you go that easily? I’ve got a contract ready for you to sign tomorrow morning. Exact same deal as Ass To Mouth signed.” She began to insert the plug. “You retain ownership of your publishing, but Swallow will own the master copies of the recordings we pay for.” She pushed it in a little further, and Ace’s boipussy expanded. She heard him gasp. This was bigger than his regular buttplug. “We’ll pay for studio time, and you can record in Florida, but I’ll probably fly down just to make sure we’re getting value for money.” She pushed it all the way in, and the flared base rested snugly against Ace’s ass cheeks. “Just to make sure we’re getting value for money, that is.”
Ace rolled over to face her. “Fuck, Candii, this feels so good.” She wasn’t sure if he was referring to the deal or the plug. He reached a hand back to doublecheck that the plug was fully inserted. His dick was just as hard as it was when Candii sucked a load out of it a few moments before.
She stroked his cheek tenderly. “I know it does, sweetie.”
Ace felt the need to be honest. “I’ve been gay all my life, not once have I ever been interested in breasts, but … your breasts are mesmerising.”
“You can kiss them if you like,” she cooed.
Ace’s eyes went wide. He sucked on one of her tattooed tits, then the other. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Candii, I think you’re turning me straight.”
She rested a hand on the back of his head, encouraging him to keep sucking. “No chance of that,” she deadpanned. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she felt Ace’s wet mouth slobbering all over her sensitive, erect nipples.
Ace could’ve kept sucking on her fake plastic tits until the world ended, but Candii had something else in mind. She rested the heel of her palm on Ace’s forehead and gently pushed him back.
She kissed him before looking deep into his eyes. “Guess what happens now?”
Ace had no idea. He half-expected Candii to bust out her travelling collection of wax, chains and whips.
She rolled over onto her stomach and pulled her cheeks apart. “Eat my pussy, Ace.”
He ate her delicious brown hole like it was his last meal on death row. The fat plug was still buried deep in his boipussy.
“Fuck, sweetie,” she moaned, “your tongue is killing me.”
First her tits, then her ass. Before this moment, Ace had never wanted T&A in his life. At least, not from a woman.
Again, Candii felt like Ace wouldn’t stop until told, so she rolled over onto her back. “You wanna fuck me now?” Her pink hair cascaded across her pillows. She removed one pillow to put it under her ass.
Ace sucked his middle finger into his mouth before thrusting it into her opening. Candii arched her back and moaned. “Fuck me, Ace,” she said. “I’m your whore tonight, sweetie.”
This was a night of firsts for Ace. Never in his life had he fucked someone while wearing a plug.
He entered her slowly. She was well-lubricated by his spit, and she gasped a little as the tip of his dick passed her sphincter. “Go slow, sweetie.” She reached back to grab his ass cheeks. “You’re my man tonight. My sexy metalhead rock god.” She found the base of the buttplug buried in Ace’s ass and pushed it in firmly. “I can’t wait to see my man on stage tomorrow.”
“Fuck,” Ace seethed as he felt the pressure of the plug being pushed back in. He looked down at the unbelievably hot trans woman lying on the mattress beneath him. As he leaned forward to kiss her, he felt her cock pressing up hard into his stomach, and she gasped in pleasure as Ace brushed up against her prostate gland.
Just as Candii reached up to tweak one of Ace’s nipples, his orgasm began to build. “I’m gonna cum,” he declared, and Candii took yet another opportunity to push Ace’s plug in deep. White lightning flashed before Ace’s eyes as he flooded Candii’s pussy with endless pulses of rich, creamy sperm. He felt his anal sphincter pulse and contract around the plug as he emptied his liquid soul into her.
He collapsed on top of her, covered in sweat. His spent cock finally fell out of her hole with a wet plop. She hadn’t cum yet, but the pool of precum that pooled on her lower stomach while Boipussy’s frontman ploughed her was thick and viscous.
“Fuck, Ace,” she said, running her fingernails through her liquid, “that was so hot.” She scooped some precum into her hand and fed it to him. He licked it off her nails. Through the darkness, he saw her sexy pout. “Is it my turn now?”
Ace squeezed the plug out of his pussy and threw it onto the hotel room floor. He’d clean it up later. He sucked her cock the way he wanted to on the bus — fast and frenetic. He drooled on her shaft and stroked her like a piston, sucking hard enough to cave his cheeks in. The visuals from Hypnosissy’s set last night broke his mind. “Give it to me,” he pleaded. He wanted her load so fucking bad. “Let me taste you.”
Candii rested a manicured hand on the back of Ace’s head, holding him in place as she spurted deep into his throat. “Oh, fuck, sweetie,” she croaked, holding Ace’s skull in place. Ace moaned, swallowing hard. Candii’s girldick was so fucking sweet.
They lay side by side, catching their breath.
“I wish you could’ve sucked my girlcock on the bus,” Candii confessed.
“I wanted to,” Ace revealed, “but there wasn’t enough room.”
Candii dragged her long fingernails across Ace’s naked, sweaty chest. “I know. But it’s so fucking hot to know you wanted to.”
Ace rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. His mouth still tasted like Candii. “What happens now?” he asked.
“Well,” Candii began, “first things first. Do you have a boyfriend right now?”
“No,” Ace replied. “Me and Pete from Ass To Mouth used to be together, but right now, I’m single.”
Candii smiled, filing that information away. “We’ll, that’s a good start, wouldn’t you say, sweetie?”
“But I need to confess something,” Ace added.
Candii waited silently.
“When we got off the bus today, I ran to the nearest bathroom, locked myself in a stall and jacked off thinking about you. It took me three strokes to spray the wall.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t know how I kept it in my pants all the way to Dallas.”
Candii smiled. “Aww, sweetie.” She yawned. It was time for sleep. She kissed him deeply before rolling onto her side, and in the darkness, Ace noticed the massive tattoo that covered the length and breadth of her back that he hadn’t noticed earlier.
Ace spent the night in her room, but tomorrow was a big day. He stared at the ceiling again for a while, wondering why her reply to his confession was so blasé and vanilla. Maybe she was already thinking about tomorrow.
Eventually, he rolled over and slept. Candii was immensely relieved to learn that Ace didn’t snore.