That’s right. I see you.I winked. He smiled.
I turned back to look at Twila, completely unaware of what was really going on, and resumed the charade I had grown so accustomed to putting on. “Why don’t you give them all a kiss, babygirl?” Twila squealed and blew the crowd a kiss, and theywent fucking wild. Who would’ve thought a simple girl next door would become such an appetizing treat to the crowds? She really was perfect. Well, almost.
I leaned back into my mic and addressed the crowd. “Thank you all! You’ve been amazing! We are The Broken Muse! Goodnight!” The lights from the stage fell to black, and the crowd roared and cheered. It was a good show, as usual, but fuck, I was tired.
I wrapped my arm around Twila, and the whole band exited the stage. Once we got backstage, Carmen and I handed our guitars off to the crew members, and Ducky joined us. He was raving about how well we did, as he usually does. I wasn’t really focused on anything and was just moving through the motions. I threw my arm over Twila, and together we all began to head towards the exit. A commotion behind us made us all turn as a random guy tried to approach us. The extra security Ducky hired stopped him in time. “Fucking paparazzi,” Carmen snapped. Motley and I exchanged a concerned look. There was no way Xavier found someone new already…right?
The guy broke free from the security and rushed us. Ducky tried to stop him, but he grabbed Twila’s arm and nearly knocked her over as he took a photo. She became blinded from the flash and ran into Carmen. I don’t know if it was the trauma of Guy or the idea of someone touching Twila, but I became fucking enraged. I swung at the man and knocked him to the floor. “Kash, no!” Motley tried to pull me back, but his voice was muffled and distant. “Stop it!” All I could hear was my own heartbeat as it raced in my ears. And all I could see was Guy.
I swung my arms again and again, beating the shit out of the man. I listened to his whines and pleas, ignoring them, as I continued to swing. His face became bloodied and started to change color from my violence. I would have kept going too, but Motley forcefully pulled me back. The security rushed to theman and dragged him from the floor. Blood smeared from his body as I realized the extent of what I had done. Fuck.
“Kash—” I pushed Motley off me and forced my way through the band to run to my dressing room. I felt like I was on fire and couldn’t breathe. I stepped inside and exhaled as I leaned forward and placed my hands on my knees. My heart continued to race and hurt, and I felt like I could die. I clutched my chest and began to panic.
What is happening to me? What is wrong with me? Fuck! Why did I do that?
“Hey.” Motley suddenly appeared as he closed the door behind him and locked it. He gently rubbed my back and crouched next to me. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. Take a deep breath. Okay? Breathe. In and out.” I closed my eyes and listened to his soothing voice as I did what he said. “There you go.” He then took me into his arms and tried to hug me, but I pushed him away.
“That man—he—he touched Twila. He was taking photos!” I began to pace around the dressing room. “Fuck, is Twila okay?”
Motley nodded. “She’s good. Carmen and Ducky are taking her back to the motel.” How was he so calm?
“I shouldn’t have just left her like that. Fuck, what is wrong with me?” I snatched a bottle of alcohol from the vanity and began to down it.
“Kash. Hey, easy with that!” Motley reached for the bottle, but I pulled it back. He made a face. “You don’t need to do that. You don’t need to drown your pain.”
I swallowed the alcohol and wiped my mouth. “Yes, I do.” I busted out with an uneasy laugh. “Even though Guy is gone, there’s always going to be his shadow lingering over us! Fuck, every time I hear a noise in the dark or-or see a camera flash, I panic! That fucking stalker is haunting me! Tormenting me with his ghost! I-I feel like I’m going crazy! Always looking over myshoulder and—” Motley ripped the bottle from me with a snarl. “Give it back!”
He pushed me away, and I stumbled back. “No! I know you're scared, fuck. Don’t you think I am too?” Fuck. I never stopped to think about how he was feeling. Why did I always have to be so damn selfish? Of course Motley was scared. “You can have feelings, Kash. There’s nothing wrong or weak about them. But you don’t need to drown in your fear! I know what haunts you, so don’t you dare try to hide it from me!” Why did he have to care so fucking much? “You don’t need this.” He shook the bottle.
“Fine,” I snapped. I turned and began to search my vanity for something better.
Motley eyed me closely. “What’re you doing?” I ignored him. “Kash, what’re you—stop it. Stop it!” He grabbed my hands, and we struggled. “Stop self-destructing!” I spun him around and slammed his body against the vanity, cracking the mirror with his face. A single trail of blood dripped down his forehead.
My hand gripped his neck, and I leaned in close. “I need to do something! I need to stop feeling. To stop thinking! I need it, Motley!” I eyed the blood and felt like utter shit. What was wrong with me?
Motley’s eyes watched me as the air thickened, and he placed his hand on my dick. I hadn’t realized it, but it was hard. And feeling him touch me made me even harder. “If you need to let go of all those pent-up emotions, then fucking do it. Not with drugs or alcohol. Use me.” I squeezed his neck harder as his fingers unlatched my belt and traveled beneath my jeans. “Use me, Kash. Let me help you.” My mouth hovered close to his as I gasped. Fuck, this was exactly what I needed.
I opened my mouth and licked the blood from his forehead. He moaned, and I let go of his neck, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled him closer. “Turn around,” I growled. Motley’s eyes sparkled, and he flashed me a devious smile. “Now.” Hepushed me back and turned around, unbuckling his own belt and pants. My hand pushed his back, and he leaned forward, nearly knocking his head into the broken mirror. I spat in my hand and used it to lather the aching tip of my dick before positioning it in place. I leaned forward, my chest against his back, and whispered into his ear. “You want me to use you? Fine.” I licked my lips as I tasted his blood. “But now, it’s your turn to sing, drummer boy.” As the words left my lips, I shoved my dick inside him.
We both moaned as I roughly fucked him from behind. I fucking needed this. No, I needed him. And he was letting me use him as I pleased. God, he was so perfect, and I felt undeserving of him.
“Fuck,” I cried out, coming way too quickly inside him. “No! Fuck!”
Motley squeezed around me, and I trembled as I continued to come. “That’s right,” he breathed. “Use me. Fill me with your pain, songbird.” I reached around and began to stroke him. I moved vigorously, playing with his piercings as I continued to come, my dick extremely overly sensitive. Motley cried out and came all over my hand, his cum shooting onto the vanity.
My head fell against Motley’s back, and I struggled to breathe. His back heaved as he, too, was panting and sweating. “Fuck, Motley.” I kissed his back and played with his hair. “I can’t get enough of you.”
He laughed and reached back to touch my head. “Now you know how I feel.” We both laughed.
I slowly peeled my dick from his body, the two of us both moaning and shaking as I did so. Motley turned to look at me and grabbed my face. He kissed me so hard it made me gasp into his mouth. I felt my dick coming alive as his tongue danced with mine, and I kissed him back. “Careful,” I breathed into him. “I have enough pent-up shit, I could fuck you again and again.”
Motley bit my lower lip with his teeth and tugged. I could taste my blood as it dripped into my mouth and onto my tongue. He sucked my lip and let it go. “Oh no, it’s my turn to fuck you, loverboy. Now, turn around and get on your back.” The growled demand made my skin tingle and vibrate.
I moved a bunch of stage equipment and one of my guitars aside, did as Motley asked, and lay on the floor of the dressing room. He looked around, his fingers grazing the many things across the room until he stopped and turned to look at me. “This’ll do.” He lifted one of the stage mics I had packed away and waved it around in his hand. “Let’s see just how high I can get you to sing, songbird.” My mouth salivated at his wicked idea.
Motley walked over and completely undressed as he stood above me, his dick straight and firm. He slowly fell to his knees, the mic still in hand, and ripped open my shirt clean down the middle. I gasped at the aggressive turn on. He ran his lips across my chest, leaving behind kisses, before his mouth stopped at the side of my neck, his dick pressed against my chest. His tongue grazed my skin before he bit down hard. A weak whimper escaped my mouth, and I could feel him smile.
Motley licked the bite he left behind and moved close to my ear. His hot breath hit my ear and made my skin prickle as he spoke in a low, seductive whisper. “Why don’t you give me some of that spit.” Motley leaned back and stroked himself while he watched me gather a mouthful of spit and shoot it on his swollen, pierced tip. He groaned and bit his lower lip as he used it to lube himself up. “Now, open that pretty little mouth of yours and take me like a good boy.” I became wet in response to his fucking words and nearly melted as I opened my mouth wide. “Wider.” I stretched my mouth further and nearly popped my jaw. “Perfect.” Motley then pushed his girthy dick deep into my throat and moaned as he did. “Oh fuck,” he cried out.
