I have been laying low lately; trying to save up money to move out of the La-La Land we know as Los Angeles.. I have admitted myself to my dungeon to work on my music and overall self-evolution. There was a big, bad wolf sleeping inside me that awoke; it was hungry for some fresh action.
A friend was playing a show at a bbq with another band and I went along. I didn't really know anyone. But as the day became night and I filled up on brass monkey, a little liquid courage if you will, I began to socialize with the other band's super cute merch boy. Let me make this clear: I am not a groupie or even slightly new to the whole boys in bands/ being in bands with boys or dating musicians scene. This guy was cute. Curly brown hair, tall, facial hair, glasses, tattoos, skinny jeans and converse shoes. He had a cynicism to him that I found endearing since I, too, am quite cynical. We have similar senses of humor, share a fondness for music and adventure so I was totally attracted.
After the bbq, we all went back to my friends house for more beer and sexual tension. Now, this friend of mine happens to have a crush on me so he found himself jealous and tried to cock block between Merch Boy and me. Merch boy was leaving Cali the following morning so I figured I should make the best of the attraction and an awesome connection with him for a few hours. Why not? And as for my buddy, I don't owe him anything because we aren't dating, so if I like a guy, he's just going to have to deal with that. I wasn't going to let him and his erratic jealousy stop me from having a titillating endeavor.
So Merch boy and I continued our deliciously flirtatious escapade and I started thinking that I HAVE to AT LEAST kiss his face once. He was throwing all the signs with gentle touches and verbal yumminess. I reciprocated naturally. But we had to do it secretly because my of my prowling and jealous friend. For the length of their short or long lives, secrets can be exciting (as long as you're not seriously fucking someone over of course). We began texting back and forth to form a plan: When everyone retires for the night, we must vanish like horny ninjas and go for a walk around the block. ... ..
Finally, about 5am or so, the coast was clear! We sneaked out the side of the house and walked down the block and around the peaceful, suburban neighborhood. Another thing that made this guy so fun happened when we were passing a deck of flat wood. I said "Dance on this wood with me." And he said, "Okay." Tickled me fancy! Most guys I like are too uptight to say yes and "embarrass" themselves with me. So we did sort of a "jig" on the wood for a few seconds, laughed and continued down the road. I spotted a sweet little spot for us to play. A little grassy nook on the sidewalk of a very quiet street. There was a great view of trees and greenery, the sky was brilliant, the sun was soon to come up.
We sat down on the grass. I didn't waste any time since we were on a time crunch, and I wanted to help make it easier for him to not have to plot some cheesy move. I had a cheesy plan of attack of my own; a very juvenile one. So I said, " Kiss my cheek." And then he kissed it. And I giggled. Then, he said, "Kiss my cheek." and I did. In my quirky and charming sorta way, I then said, "Now kiss my lips." And he obediently leaned in and kissed me. The kiss was slow at first, our closed mouth kiss to tongue rhythms were in sync and electric. Meaningless or not, there was poetry in our kiss. What topped off the experience was the birds chirping. All was silent but those beautiful birdies singing and mine & Merch Boy's oh-so gentle moans. It was ethereal actually.
We then found ourselves laying on the grass side by side, kissing, breathing a little heavier and occasionally expressing enjoyment of the steamy situation. "Damn, damn, damn.. You are all kinds of damn." He said. I laughed and agreed that he, too, was 'all kinds of damn'. Let's see, we've got the hot damn, the smart damn, the fun to hang out with/talk to damn, the funny damn, the oh shit we also have a physical connection damn, the you're getting me hot n bothered thus making me question my morals damn, and the you're totally fucking sexy damn.
Ok, I HAD to do the -ahem- junk check!! I know what you're thinking. Slut! No! But whenever I have an encounter like that with a guy, I feel a bizarre need to do the junk check to see what meat he's packing. So I did it; It wasn't a monster dick but definitely not a baby dick which is good; it felt like it could be a perfect fit.
Moral dilemma! I don't usually go passed a make-out with a boy until we've hooked up at least a few times on different occasions. But this situation was different. We only met the night before he was leaving. But I wanted to take Merch Boy's junk and do naughty things to it and throw my morals out the window. He didn't hesitate to cop a boob feel. That was okay with me. That's within my '1st hook-up code book'. It was hot.
The sun was up in what seemed to have been no time. We realized that we should prolly go back to the hizzie before everyone woke up. To shorten this story, I'll jump right to the damn near end. We decided on one more last little smooch in the bathroom... (ugh, I know, tacky as hell... but still pretty fuckin' rock-n-roll) which was really our only option. Things kinda got a little awkward. Merch Boy basically asked me to ... how do I say this... finish him off. But that isn't within my '1st hook up code book'. I mean, I guess I could have jacked him off but... just seemed awkward; I just didn't want it to go down like that. And I do feel kinda bad about it; I left him without climax which I totally know sucks. He was awesome and deserved to 'get off'. Kind of a bitchy thing for me to do, but at the same time, I can't do something I don't want to just to make some boy that I'll never see again happy for 5 seconds. I think he was a little pissed off? But he'll definitely go in my book as one of the 'Hottest Random Hook-ups'. It's sort of an archive of hot, bizarre, random and sexy moments shared with guys that have entered my life. Some of them were special to me, others were not significant at all. As long as the encounter was hot, it will go in my Hottest Random Hook-ups book.
So I got to thinking that merchandise guys are smart; they go on tours with bands who do way more work and get as many, if not more, chicks than the band members themselves. That's because there's a certain charm about the quintessential guy who's not in the band but with the band on tour. My guess is that some girls don't want to do the typical thing which is hook up with someone in the band. So merch guys, tour managers, roadies all get lotsa purrkitty perks.
I enjoyed my few days of partying and debauchery. But now it's time to get back down to business and work, save money, work on my music and enjoy the solitude of being a hermit. Thanks, Merch Boy, for the fun fling though. 'Twas random and fun!
A friend was playing a show at a bbq with another band and I went along. I didn't really know anyone. But as the day became night and I filled up on brass monkey, a little liquid courage if you will, I began to socialize with the other band's super cute merch boy. Let me make this clear: I am not a groupie or even slightly new to the whole boys in bands/ being in bands with boys or dating musicians scene. This guy was cute. Curly brown hair, tall, facial hair, glasses, tattoos, skinny jeans and converse shoes. He had a cynicism to him that I found endearing since I, too, am quite cynical. We have similar senses of humor, share a fondness for music and adventure so I was totally attracted.
After the bbq, we all went back to my friends house for more beer and sexual tension. Now, this friend of mine happens to have a crush on me so he found himself jealous and tried to cock block between Merch Boy and me. Merch boy was leaving Cali the following morning so I figured I should make the best of the attraction and an awesome connection with him for a few hours. Why not? And as for my buddy, I don't owe him anything because we aren't dating, so if I like a guy, he's just going to have to deal with that. I wasn't going to let him and his erratic jealousy stop me from having a titillating endeavor.
So Merch boy and I continued our deliciously flirtatious escapade and I started thinking that I HAVE to AT LEAST kiss his face once. He was throwing all the signs with gentle touches and verbal yumminess. I reciprocated naturally. But we had to do it secretly because my of my prowling and jealous friend. For the length of their short or long lives, secrets can be exciting (as long as you're not seriously fucking someone over of course). We began texting back and forth to form a plan: When everyone retires for the night, we must vanish like horny ninjas and go for a walk around the block. ... ..
Finally, about 5am or so, the coast was clear! We sneaked out the side of the house and walked down the block and around the peaceful, suburban neighborhood. Another thing that made this guy so fun happened when we were passing a deck of flat wood. I said "Dance on this wood with me." And he said, "Okay." Tickled me fancy! Most guys I like are too uptight to say yes and "embarrass" themselves with me. So we did sort of a "jig" on the wood for a few seconds, laughed and continued down the road. I spotted a sweet little spot for us to play. A little grassy nook on the sidewalk of a very quiet street. There was a great view of trees and greenery, the sky was brilliant, the sun was soon to come up.
We sat down on the grass. I didn't waste any time since we were on a time crunch, and I wanted to help make it easier for him to not have to plot some cheesy move. I had a cheesy plan of attack of my own; a very juvenile one. So I said, " Kiss my cheek." And then he kissed it. And I giggled. Then, he said, "Kiss my cheek." and I did. In my quirky and charming sorta way, I then said, "Now kiss my lips." And he obediently leaned in and kissed me. The kiss was slow at first, our closed mouth kiss to tongue rhythms were in sync and electric. Meaningless or not, there was poetry in our kiss. What topped off the experience was the birds chirping. All was silent but those beautiful birdies singing and mine & Merch Boy's oh-so gentle moans. It was ethereal actually.
We then found ourselves laying on the grass side by side, kissing, breathing a little heavier and occasionally expressing enjoyment of the steamy situation. "Damn, damn, damn.. You are all kinds of damn." He said. I laughed and agreed that he, too, was 'all kinds of damn'. Let's see, we've got the hot damn, the smart damn, the fun to hang out with/talk to damn, the funny damn, the oh shit we also have a physical connection damn, the you're getting me hot n bothered thus making me question my morals damn, and the you're totally fucking sexy damn.
Ok, I HAD to do the -ahem- junk check!! I know what you're thinking. Slut! No! But whenever I have an encounter like that with a guy, I feel a bizarre need to do the junk check to see what meat he's packing. So I did it; It wasn't a monster dick but definitely not a baby dick which is good; it felt like it could be a perfect fit.
Moral dilemma! I don't usually go passed a make-out with a boy until we've hooked up at least a few times on different occasions. But this situation was different. We only met the night before he was leaving. But I wanted to take Merch Boy's junk and do naughty things to it and throw my morals out the window. He didn't hesitate to cop a boob feel. That was okay with me. That's within my '1st hook-up code book'. It was hot.
The sun was up in what seemed to have been no time. We realized that we should prolly go back to the hizzie before everyone woke up. To shorten this story, I'll jump right to the damn near end. We decided on one more last little smooch in the bathroom... (ugh, I know, tacky as hell... but still pretty fuckin' rock-n-roll) which was really our only option. Things kinda got a little awkward. Merch Boy basically asked me to ... how do I say this... finish him off. But that isn't within my '1st hook up code book'. I mean, I guess I could have jacked him off but... just seemed awkward; I just didn't want it to go down like that. And I do feel kinda bad about it; I left him without climax which I totally know sucks. He was awesome and deserved to 'get off'. Kind of a bitchy thing for me to do, but at the same time, I can't do something I don't want to just to make some boy that I'll never see again happy for 5 seconds. I think he was a little pissed off? But he'll definitely go in my book as one of the 'Hottest Random Hook-ups'. It's sort of an archive of hot, bizarre, random and sexy moments shared with guys that have entered my life. Some of them were special to me, others were not significant at all. As long as the encounter was hot, it will go in my Hottest Random Hook-ups book.
So I got to thinking that merchandise guys are smart; they go on tours with bands who do way more work and get as many, if not more, chicks than the band members themselves. That's because there's a certain charm about the quintessential guy who's not in the band but with the band on tour. My guess is that some girls don't want to do the typical thing which is hook up with someone in the band. So merch guys, tour managers, roadies all get lotsa purrkitty perks.
I enjoyed my few days of partying and debauchery. But now it's time to get back down to business and work, save money, work on my music and enjoy the solitude of being a hermit. Thanks, Merch Boy, for the fun fling though. 'Twas random and fun!
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