I passed out, wrapped around my guitar with my zipper still open and my junk laying out on my thigh. Ready to relive the same mindless, worthless and pathetic existence tomorrow night. However, by then, it had spread into my apartment and I was no longer in my room. I was in the Bone Room and I was not alone. There was a long tan body almost naked lying next to me.
She was squeezed into a tiny black skirt that was made with such little material, the soft curves of her ass peeked out of the bottom, and they were fucking smiling at me. I stood up slowly and reached for my boxer shorts that were draped over the back of the armchair in the corner of the room. After grabbing them and pulling them up quickly, I stood in the soft glow of the rising sun through the window, and gazed down at the figure in the bed I had just left. Her back was facing me, her head resting on her arm, and her long, golden blonde hair fell around the pillows that surrounded her.
What the hell did I do last night? I looked down at the girl, vomit rising in my throat, and tried to remember what happened after I played my guitar. In my room. I remembered the knock on my door. The blonde was topless, and fuck, I am only human. Then we were in the Bone Room and were walking clumsily, kissing and sucking at each other, tongues and mouths and fingers touching each other as we stumbled onto the bed.
She pulled my boxers down and her lips were immediately wrapped around my cock so tightly, it almost hurt.
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I remembered opening the slut drawer and throwing a wad of condoms at her and using them all. I took a deep, pained breath and ran my hands over my face.
Tears For Fears: how we made Mad World
Guilt flooded through me, causing a thickness in my throat. It had been nine months, and the guilt was still so damn overwhelming. I did all this shit to punish myself, to forget myself, to forget Selah. I drank to forget her, to forget being what I was, and I slept with the trash that threw themselves at me, trying to pretend they were all her and trying to forget I would never see her again. The girl sat up and the sheets fell from her, giving me a full view of a pair of perky little tits.
She tilted her head and batted her eyes. Or you want me to come back around later tonight after the next show? Her hands slowly started caressing her own skin, cupping herself and trying too damn hard to keep my attention. She reeked of desperation and all I wanted was to take a shower to clean her scent off me.
Peter Gabriel – “Games Without Frontiers” (1980)
The mattress on the bed creaked loudly as she kicked the rest of the sheets off and slid her hand suggestively down her stomach and under her little skirt. She lifted up the material so I could see her fingers as she ran them through her wet skin. She spread her legs real wide as I watched the show. I shook my head and gave her my sexiest smile, Nah, thanks though.
Turning, I walked to the door and then gave her one last glance.
You need a cab or anything, just let one of us know. I-I thought that we were fucking amazing together. I-I thought I spun on my heels and cocked my head at her. You knew the deal when you knocked on my door. She bolted up, grabbed her shirt off the floor, yanked it over her head, and glared at me. Do you have any respect for women? Do you give a shit about me at all? Her shirt was on backward, so I laughed. She threw a pillow at me. I crossed my arms over my chest, When a stranger walks herself into my fucking private bedroom, tits all out, begging me to use her for a night, I fucking will.
Why the hell not? Why should that stranger give a shit about you after? Storming out of the room and into my bedroom, I slammed my door shut and locked it. Fuck everyone.
Collapsing on my bed, I slept until my alarm woke me to get ready for our next gig. As I mindlessly got ready, my stomach clenched, knowing that I would repeat the same shit as the night before.thoughtfuleditor.com/mobile-instagram-location-galaxy-s10.php
Mad World Series Box Set: Fall From Grace. Saving Grace. Scars and Songs
The night started the way it always did, with the guys and me meeting up at the bar before a gig. A crowd of girls sat at the table next to us as we horribly tried pick up line after pick up line on them. We all made a game out of it, because really, after a show, every girl that said no to us would be on her knees in front of us later, mouthing how great we were. Every girl. Any girl.
No problem. I had yet to meet a girl who knew the word no. Not when the guys from my band, Mad World, was around anyway. I believe he had a book somewhere where he wrote them all down.
Review: Scars and Songs (Mad World, #3) by Christine Zolendz – The Escapist Book Blog
Great legs, what time do they open? Tucker called out to the girls, laughing as he did so. Chuckling, I chimed in. If I flip a coin, what are the chances of me getting head? The girls made disgusted faces in our direction, shaking their heads in disbelief. Alex, my rhythm guitarist and keyboardist, elbowed me in the gut to listen to his line. Hey, how about you sit on my face and let me eat my way to your heart?
He shoved his tongue between two of his fingers and wiggled it towards the girls sexually.
The Madness of King Scar
I laughed harder. Brayden, my bassist, snorted like a pig and beer shot right out of his nose. Howls of laughter rang out from our table. Then he called over, I got the F-C-K. All I need is U! Ethan, my drummer just laughed along with us. He never participated in our immature games. Probably a freaking cat too. Tucker rolled another out. If this bar is a meat market, you must be the prime rib! That caused the girls to stand up and move to another table farther away from us idiots.
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All except one light haired girl who flipped me her middle finger, but stayed firmly planted to her seat, crooking her lips into a sexy little smile. I got up from my seat and leaned over her table, right in front of her face. I would love to, I whispered. I held my hand out for her, and just as I thought she would, she grabbed it with sweaty palms.
I took her into one of the back rooms. It was as good a place as any to get laid. Most of the time, I was too uninspired by the easy women that opened up their legs for me even to bother to take them home. And they were all easy. They just jumped in my arms after a show. It is what it is. The girl walked right into the storage closet, lifted her skirt to her waist and bent over, ready. Holy shit.
Now she tells me? Hey, hi. Nice to, uh, meet you, I laughed. What the hell did I care what her name was? I was never going to use it.