Rock Star Goodness

As trysts go, this particular one was off to a bad start. Already Rachael had whacked her shin on an amp, and there was a distinctly unpleasant odor emanating from the small bathroom. But as she looked forward at the man who was holding her hand, tugging her back to the dim bunk at the back, her stomach fluttered and her hormones soared. She hadn't intended to fall for the smooth talk, but she was young, single, tipsy, and on the tour bus with one of the sexiest bands she'd ever laid eyes on.

And Owen..yowza. Alternating practiced lines with shy glances over his ridiculous glasses, smoothing down his curls as he sipped his beer. He'd been sitting next to her for a fair part of the evening, and she found herself angling to make sure he had a good view of her cleavage. They'd both blushed when she fell into his lap during a demonstration of the white man shuffle, and she had toned it down for a bit, talking sports with the lanky keyboardist.

She'd felt his physical presence from that point onward, though, and they'd drifted back together as the evening went on until they were crammed together into a tiny corner for a game of cards. It was hard enough to concentrate feeling his thigh pressed against hers, but when he began to stroke her ankle absently with his foot she lost 3 hands in a row.

After cards, several of them went off in search of pizza, and a few of the other locals staggered off to bed, and she was left sitting there with Owen and the tour manager, who beat a hasty retreat after two minutes of pleasantries. It was then that he'd asked her back to see some of the photos he'd taken on this tour. She suspected that even if he'd asked her to see his beer can collection she'd have agreed, provided it was in his small room on the bus. Even a straightforward "Nice shoes, wanna fuck?" would have gotten a nod. Yeah, she had a few misgivings- since when was she into this camp follower business? but decided that she'd never forgive herself if she passed up a chance to get cozy with the very sexy and talented Owen.

As he thumbed through a photo album, telling hilarious stories about his bandmates, Rachael decided that his voice could make a grocery list sound sexy. The fact that they were sitting on a bed, in a very small space, on a very thin pretense, added to the tension. It was when she leaned forward to see a photo of Eric sporting a feather boa and they collided cheek to cheek that they gave up pretending and got straight to kissing.

Rachael nearly melted as she tasted his lips cautiously. Heineken, and nachos, and..my god, was that bubble gum lip gloss? It was. She inhaled sharply. He removed his glasses and put his hands up to her face, breaking the kiss for a moment. Dark brown eyes stared into dark brown eyes, both Owen and Rachael breathing quickly. Then he slowly moved his head in closer and kissed her more deeply.

She could feel an ache building deep in the pit of her stomach. Sexy didn't even begin to cover her impression of him now. She wanted to throw him against the back wall and rip his clothes off. Instead she settled for pulling his shirt out of his waistband and running her fingers lightly across a not quite firm stomach. He seemed to enjoy that very much, so she began to unbutton the shirt and ran her fingers up the dark stripe of hair to his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her and slid his hands under her own shirt, fumbling for a second with the clasp on her bra but recovering nicely. Soon they were both shirtless, facing each other as they knelt on the bed. He wasn't the most muscular man ever, but his chest and shoulders were pleasantly broad and his arms were gorgeous, defined and strong. She ran a nervous hand over her stomach, but she needn't have worried. He was gazing with admiration at her full breasts and trim waist. Rachael reached back to pull her hair into a quick ponytail, but he stopped her.

Now they pressed closer, and she could feel the heat coming off his bare skin, feel the slight scratchiness of the black hair that darkened his chest. She was fascinated with the contrast against his pale skin, and ran her fingers through the trail on his stomach again.

He put his hands to her breasts and began to work magic with his fingers while he nibbled gently on her neck, then her shoulder, then trailed kisses along her jawline. As he lowered his head to take her nipple into his mouth, she shivered. His hand was still at the other breast, and she sent delicate fingers searching across his chest to find his nipples and brush them lightly.

Now they were kissing again, less of a gentle exploration and more a frenzied battle to claim the territory as his own. Rachael found herself on her back, Owen pressing down on her with a heat and weight that made her ache to pull him even closer. He propped himself up on his arms so that he could resume tormenting her nipples, and she was struck by the strength in them again. She reached down to stroke the bulge that was now throbbing insistently against her hip and felt him shudder.

Owen's arm buckled as she sent fingers exploring just under his waistband. He collapsed on top of her for a moment, breathing hard, then he was on his feet unfastening his pants. She lifted her hips to tug her jeans down, knocking the photo album on the floor in the process. They both looked at it for an instant before he was with her on the bed again, naked this time, pressing against the full length of her naked body. He kissed her again, then looked deep into her eyes looking for confirmation that she was ready for this. Rachael shyly broke the eye contact and nodded.

With a practiced ease that made it feel like one motion, Owen rolled down a condom and entered her. She closed her eyes, taking everything in with her other senses. She could still smell the faint odor from the toilet, but more strong was the smell of sweat, sex, and smoky club coming off of them both. In the front of the bus she could hear the tour manager pretending to be very busy and not noticing the assorted bangs and squeaks coming from behind the closed door. The very faint taste of his bubble gum- bubble gum?- chapstick was still on her lips, and she remembered the taste of his skin as well, the delicate sheen of sweat on his neck where she'd bitten him lightly. She could still feel each and every inch of his body pressed against hers- they were nearly the same height- from his legs entwined with hers to his soft curls as his head rested on her shoulder.

All other sensation faded away as he began to move inside of her until all she could feel was the tight ball of tension just out of reach between her legs. Suddenly he shifted his hips ever so slightly and then something inside of her exploded, sending a shower of electrical sparks coursing through her. With a muffled grunt and a faraway look in his eyes, Owen collapsed on top of her again, spent. He was damp with exertion, and their hearts pounded against their ribcages hard enough that each felt like they had two hearts in their chest for a moment.

Oh. My. Goodness. Rachael suddenly blushed from head to toe. She wasn't entirely sure what she had expected, but it hadn't been that. Not, mind you, that she was complaining. No, not at all. In fact, she thought she might not be able to complain about anything for several days. A blissful smile crossed her face even as the awkwardness of what to do next occurred to her.