1. 06. Mazzy's Perfect Head


    Date: 9/8/2016, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: GoBigCatGo, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    The early-dawn city lights blurred past behind her as the taxi took us home. “I know it’s selfish and you can do whatever you like, I love it all, and I’m on the pill, but I won’t suck you. I’m protecting my throat, my voice, is that okay?” This was more than okay, for two reasons: First, Mazzy was astonishingly beautiful; I mean the kind of beauty you rarely meet in the flesh, the kind that actually startles you. Dark ringlets framing a fresh complexion of plump lips and mesmerising eyes; clear and wet with dark lines around cool blue irises. Way too perfect a package to violate with something as ugly as my member. Second, up to that point I didn’t know that sex was even likely. Mazzy’s band was a small, local, sensation at the time. An underground psychedelic punk outfit that was smart enough to put her up front, her sweet vocal offsetting their percussive noise and making you want to tear your heart out and just offer it to them. Whilst waiting for them to start, I was leaning on a bar stool, chatting to the cool art-school crowd that had brought me to the sweaty little basement. Mazzy came onto stage and the crowd erupted, then she jumped down - and the crowd parted - as she walked right up to me. (To me!) I just stood there, jaw dropped, lobotomised by excitement and panic. She gave me this little winsome smile and took my stool, taking it with her back up onto stage. My friends all nudged and jeered but took it too far when they had her dedicate a song to ‘Fluffer’. It ...
    was like a smack in the face. She made me feel hip, attractive, interesting. They reminded me I was tawdry, dirty, and dull. After the gig, once the DJ kicked off, I saw her chatting in a dark corner with the band and bought her a bottle of water (all she ever drank, naturally). I tried to ignore my urge to swoon and ploughed through the crowd toward her. She saw me approaching, peeled off from her group, and met me half way on the dance floor. Then we were actually dancing. Dear God I am a very, very bad dancer. I thought, oh well, blown it as I jerked self-consciously to the music, trying to ignore the circle of gawping people around us. Suddenly Mazzy reached up to my head, dragged it down to her level like a microphone and shouted into my ear, “Shall we sit down? I hate dancing, I’m just shite!” Bless her. She was a brilliant dancer, well to me anyway. Huddled in a booth in the shadows, we swilled fizzy water and had one of those short-shouty-burst conversations you have in clubs. We mostly laughed at people and tried to look small so she didn’t get bothered by fans. Mazzy pressed so close to me I had to put my arm round her. “Pretend to be my bodyguard,” she shouted, “Then they might leave me alone.” I don’t know what kind of bodyguards she was used to but I just sat there and literally guarded her body, holding it close to mine. I could feel the heat of her skin through our clothing and bathed in it. That’s pretty much how we communicated in fact, the whole night. One ...
«12345»