Vinnie takes my hand this time as we walk on. The grip of his fingers in mine is magic, and I do feel like Alice walking in Wonderland. Dorothy and the tornado is far behind me. My own demons finally singing with my angels.
“Here we are,” Vinnie says when we reach a door at the end of a long burgundy hallway.
He opens it up and my jaw drops for the hundredth time so far tonight. There is a full band set up in here. Drum kit, keyboards, guitars and massive speakers. And there, in the centre, is the mic stand. Oh my fucking God!
My flutters reach their crescendo as he drops my hand and takes position, holding the stand like he does on stage. It’s so surreal, I can barely breathe.
He reaches off to the side and presses some buttons on a mixer deck, and the beat starts up, loud.
He gestures to me like he does to the crowd, raising his arm in the air, and mouthing me todance, dance, DANCE,and I do dance. I let the beat rip through me and find the groove, remembering all the times I bounced my heart out to this tune on rock club dancefloors.
I let my angels and demons run free as Vinnie starts up with the vocals, swaying, and running my hands down my soaked latex dress as I watch him like an adoring fan. But he’s looking at me right back. Just the two of us in a personal show.
Insanity.
Pure and utter insanity.
We’re both performing, both in the spotlight, but both being ourselves as he bellows out my favourite tune.
It feels natural in the absurdity.
I slide the straps of my dress back down and free my tits, so they jig to the bass. I sing along to the words as I sashay and drop to a crouch, tugging my dress up and over my hips as I rise. I tug the latex dress off and I swing it over my head before casting it aside, performing for him in nothing but stockings, stilettos and my sopping wet thong.
My thong is off by the time the main line comes, thrown in his direction. I’m teasing my clit as I mirror his words, dancing my heart out for him as he performs for me.
It’s like heaven on earth.
And it doesn’t stop.
Another track starts up, and I keep on dancing as he keeps on singing.
When he’s on song number three, I join him at the mic stand, using it as a strip pole as he pulls the mic free. I grind myself against it, using the pole to satisfy my thrumming clit as he belts out another classic.
I give him the very best show I can give. A pole dance on the best pole there could be.
Then my attention turns purely to him.
I’m on my knees when his demons find their voice on his deepest song. I’m at his crotch, freeing his dick from tight leather as his angels scream high at the peak.
And what a glorious cock it is. Thick and veined with a decent curve to it – just how I like it.
I wrap my fingers around it and lick a wet line from the base to the tip, and then I suck him. Hard.
I bob my head as he thrusts his hips, matching his rhythm as I stare up at the god on his private stage.
He tosses the mic to the side once the song is done, and grabs my hair to face fuck me like a beast. He’s sweating, raw and wild, fresh from performing, and so am I. I choke and retch and slop over his veiny hard dick, my own angels and demons rioting in harmony as he kicks off his trousers and gives me his naked body in all its glory.
Vinnie Hampton fucks me on the floor of his private music room. He pounds my pussy with his mic tossed on the floor beside us, under a spotlight of brilliance as the pleasure rips through me.
We’re a tumble of bodies, revelling. Him on top, then me on top, then him again as he holds me firm and takes control, his guttural groans on the edge of release as he slams with everything he has.
And then, when he’s done, he collapses on top. His perfect grin is a delight as he stares down at me.
“So glad I found you,” he says, and I laugh, covered in his sweat as well as mine.
“Same goes, rock god. Same goes.”
It’s boiling hot in the music room. I’m breathing deep in the stifling air when he gets to his feet and pulls me up with him.
