He couldn't remember the
blonde's name as he stared down at her buttocks, each thrust of his
pelvis producing a small ripple across the flesh of her ass. He
thrust harder and nodded in satisfaction as she murmured with pain.
The blond, whatever her name was, didn't like it anally. It was
obvious from the way she grunted in pain and tried to squirm away.
She was only doing it because he was Stan Cherry, lead singer of
Slut Girl, and their record was currently at the top of the charts.
She was one of hundreds of groupies that his assistant, Candy,
sorted through each night after the show to find just the right one
that Stan would like.
Candy had impeccable taste in
women she though Stan would like, but she’d missed something with
the blond. She had a tattoo of a little butterfly across the small
of her back. He couldn’t help but laugh. He hated the so called
tramp stamps, and would have to remind Candy later to remember that
next time she picked him out a new toy. The little butterfly looked
stupid, he thought, and he wondered what it would look like when
the woman was in her sixties.
“ That tattoo is
fucking stupid,” Stan told her, thrusting harder and laughing when
she squirmed away in disgust. So fucking the great Stan Cherry
isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, is it?
“ What?”
“ Your tattoo.
It’s fucking stupid. What would make a woman get a tattoo like that
there anyway?” he asked, never missing a beat and pushing as hard
as he could. He wondered how many times the girl had taken it in
the ass before. Did she give it up for her boyfriend after she
sucked his dick? The woman didn’t respond and with the next power
thrust screamed out in pain.
"You like that, don't you?" He
asked the woman and she shook her head furiously in agreement,
trying to hide the pain and discomfort she was obviously feeling.
He grinned even more.
"Yes Stan..." she groaned
through clenched teeth. "Fuck me harder."
He did, but it was as much a lie
as the woman saying she was enjoying it. Truth was, he was bored.
He'd worked so long and hard to get to where he was in life,
playing every dive club he could find, spending more time on the
road than not, and sacrificing his relationships with his family
and friends in the process, that he should be enjoying the rewards.
He finally had groupies. There were gorgeous women, like the blond,
who would part their legs for him at a whisper. He'd dated super
models and actresses, had extravagant homes and cars. He'd been a
bad boy in every way an up and coming rocker could be. He had it
all, the best of everything, and all his childhood dreams had
finally come true. He should be happy.
But he wasn't. He was bored.
Sure, he could make her take it in the ass and laugh at her
discomfort, maybe make fun of her stupid tramp stamp, but what was
in it for him? A few minutes of fun? The pleasure of seeing he
discomfort? He didn’t even know her name. He cared nothing for the
woman at all.
He pulled out of her with a
flourish and stepped off the bed, his head wobbly from all the
booze and drugs. The blond didn’t look all that attractive when he
looked back at her.
"Is everything okay, Stan?"
"Get out," he ordered.
"What?"
"Just get the fuck out," he told
her softly.
“ I don’t
understand.”
“ What’s your
name?” he asked, not even hinting at embarrassment over not knowing
it.
“ Sandra,” the
woman answered hesitantly.
“ Look, Sandra.
It was fun, okay. I fucked you in the ass and well...” he
stammered, trying to find something interesting to say. “It’s just
that, well... you’re boring. This is all boring. Do you know how
many women just like you’ve I’ve fucked in the ass just to watch
them squirm? Or had them lick my toes... I even had one girl lick
another girl’s ass while I watched. It’s boring, though. All so
damn boring.”
The woman’s expression turned
from shocked bewilderment to rage. “You think just because you’re
Stan Cherry you can
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