Ace came down to the Dallas hotel café around 10am the next morning for a late breakfast. Candii was already long gone from their room by the time he woke up. As he got dressed, he swore he could still smell her in the room.
With the tour in full swing, she was a busy girl these days. Before coming down for breakfast, Ace checked the kitchen area to see if there was a note from her. Nothing. He checked his phone -- again, no news. Right now, it didn't matter all that much. He needed to wake up. He had a show to play.
Ace dressed, threw his denim jacket on, and caught the elevator. He was hungry.
The members of Ass To Mouth were sitting at a table, making their way through breakfast. Ace approached Pete and Carlos from behind, wrapping a satisfied arm around each of their shoulders. "She signed us up last night."
"What? Who did?" Pete was absentmindedly munching on a piece of toast. "What are you talking about?" He still felt half-asleep. His eyes were bleary as he reached for his coffee.
"Candii," Ace replied, stealing a vacant seat at their table. "We got a record deal. Same deal as you guys, she said."
"Sweet!" Carlos stood up and gave Ace a strong, manly hug. "You got a contract! You dudes fuckin' deserve it. It's not a great deal, but hey, we've all gotta start somewhere, right?" He shrugged optimistically.
Ace leaned in conspiratorially. "I need to tell you something else," he said. "Something about Candii. Something you... might not be aware of."
Carlos and Pete edged forward as if they were about to learn the nuclear launch codes, but they felt sure they already knew what was coming.
Ace stuttered. "She's... umm... guys, I'm really not sure how to say this, but..."
"Yeah, Candii's trans," blurted Carlos. "We already know." Pete elbowed his boyfriend in the ribs and frowned at him. He wanted to see how Ace would describe Candii in his own words, and he was disappointed that Carlos had let him off the hook.
Ace gasped. "How the fuck did you know already?"
The cat was out of the bag now. "Because she flashed her dick at us backstage somewhere in Canada," Pete deadpanned. "I think it was the same night she signed us."
Ace grinned. "I slept with her last night. She's fuckin' dynamite in the sack." Carlos and Pete glanced at each other, waiting for some juicy details, but right at this moment, Ace noticed the rest of Boipussy arriving for breakfast. "I need to go tell the boys about the deal." He poured himself a coffee and wandered across to deliver the good news. The other four members of Boipussy were ecstatic. They were officially on the first rung of the rock 'n roll ladder.
Buses departed on time and the entourage made their way to an open field somewhere on the outskirts of Dallas. The bands looked over a perimeter fence to today's stage.
The mood today, at least for Swallow Records' two most recent signees, was nothing short of euphoric. Boipussy rocked, full of the adrenalin that comes from inking a fresh recording contract. As usual, Ace pranced the stage with a fat buttplug up his ass. He pulled his jeans down just before the last song, bent over and pulled his cheeks apart, showing the base of the plug to the crowd. He heard roars in response. He pulled it out just before their final song began and held it aloft like a trophy.
Ass To Mouth had none of the technical glitches that plagued part of their set in Austin. They fucking shredded. Everything went perfectly, and the crowd roared in appreciation. As a sweaty A2M came off stage, both bands felt on top of the world. Carlos and Pete each grabbed a cool ale backstage.
"I'm gonna check out the bate room," said Ace. "I wanna see what's happening over there. I feel horny as fuck right now."
"Report back when you're done?" Pete asked, necking the last of his beer. "I'm curious."
"So am I, that's why I'm checking it out," Ace yelled over his shoulder. "If you're so curious, why don't you come with me?"
For now, Pete was happy to let Ace be the pioneer. "Because I just came offstage and I'm sweating like a pig." He draped a towel around his shoulders.
"You sure?" Ace tempted. "I can tell you all about Candii on the way."
Drumming in a heavy metal band was hard work, and Pete's thirst remained unslaked. He tore the cap off another bottle of beer and took a slug. Ace's stories about his night with Candii could wait. "Have fun," he waved, running the towel across his sweaty face.
Ace opened the door to the bate room. It wasn't a room as such; it was better described as an open-air platform set aside for public masturbation. The platform held a few benches and chairs, and a box of tissues, a bottle of lube and a basket full of condoms sat on a nearby table.
Nobody else was here. Everyone was either rockin' out to Femboy Hooters' afternoon set, or chugging beers. Ace shrugged. A few moments later, he was naked, except for his denim jacket -- this was the only item of clothing still left touching his skin. He sat on a bench and relaxed, listening to the distant riffs as the late spring breeze tickled his nutsack. He spat on his hand, closed his eyes and began stroking. He didn't mind being on his own. The sun was out and his dick was in his hand; what more could a sexy man want? His cock began to swell and grow as he nodded in time with Femboy Hooters' hot riffs.
"Mahnd if ah join you?" Ace opened his eyes, squinting a little as he looked up into the sun. He saw a man standing next to him. Ace guessed he was about forty, maybe forty-five. Fit enough, though beginning to weary with labour and age. Ace detected a thick, slow southern drawl and the acrid smell of chewing tobacco. "Ah been waitin' for someone to appear here."
"Be my guest," said Ace. "Someone needs to kickstart this fuckin' bate room somehow, don't they?"
The man undressed, folding his clothes into a neat pile. He sat down next to Ace and began to stroke his smallish cock. He kept a respectable distance from his fellow masturbator.
Ace felt compelled to make a weak attempt at conversation. "You from Texas?"
"Yup. Sure am, boy. Born 'n bred, 'n ah got the guns 'n ammo to prove it. Mah trailer's in a park not more than fifteen miles from these here parts."
Ace closed his eyes again, lost in his own world of heavy metal and handsex.
"Mahnd if ah ask you a question?" asked the trailer park Texan.
"Sure."
