Groupie (her)

And she felt it up and thought she couldn't feel the bulging vein along his shaft, couldn't differentiate what was what, but it was just all so good. And she didn't need to ask what to do now, how this would work, her body knew already.

"Oh my God," she said huskily.

She lifted her pelvis very slightly, pushed back down, sighed. Then she did it again with a little longer movement, to feel that slick friction inside her was suddenly all she wanted to feel. Her lust started to overcome her and she started to search for the movement and the rhythm, just the right ankle, just the right way to ride him. He kept still and kept rubbing the base of her clit even as it got more difficult to keep his finger at the right spot when her movement grew. She was getting into an actual rhythm now, and he moved his hips slightly to meet her and she moaned.

It felt really good to have him move inside her. He pushed into her a little with every stroke now, to meet her, letting her do most of the work and keep in control. She felt it so close now she had to have it, and she grabbed his hand and pressed it lower against her clitoris, more directly on it. He caressed it, pushed on it, and she exploded. She clamped around him very tightly and then shuddered throughout her body, pulsing around him, convulsing again and again, and he was still hard as a rock inside her.

She oozed down to lay on his chest, still quivering, her thighs trembling, and he closed his arms around her and held her, stroking her sweaty hair. Every time she pulsed he twitched, and after she settled a little she thought it was hilarious, how their genitalia talked to each other. Giddily she thought that was a language they had, a kind of sign language. She giggled a little and lifted her head to see him.

"Who knew, you were right," she said and smiled.

"Yeah, imagine that," he said and looked at her nicely.

"But I was still too fast, you still haven't cum," she said.

"Oh baby," he said, his voice heavy with lust. "You say it like it's a bad thing."

"Well I want you to cum as well," she said.

"Thanks for your concern," he said. "But remember, you get to cum as many times as you wanna, but when I do it's kinda game over for me, so believe me, it's better this way. It's really good this way. Don't worry."

"But how will you get there?" she wanted to know.

Maybe it was stupid to ask but she felt so good now she wasn't even embarrassed.

"Maybe if you'd let me do the moving," he said. "But I don't want to hurt you, so please say if it hurts, okay? I'll try to be gentle."

"Okay," she said and slid off his penis, even though it felt bad to let him slide out of her, and moved aside to lay beside her.

"Ahh," he said, surprised, "You didn't have to do that, I could've just rolled you over."

"I wanna feel you push into me," she said, shamelessly greedy now.

"Oh God," he said hoarsely and followed her.

He got between her legs and instead of just getting to it he bent down to kiss her pussy gently. He ran his tongue through the length of her slit, spreading it open, touched her clitoris softly, then kissed up to her breasts, her nipples still like rocks. His touch reignited all he had made her feel thus far, and finally he searched for her opening and started to push inside her.

She remembered her vague thought of him ramming it into her by force, and from how he moved she could tell there was some truth to it. She was suddenly immensely grateful he had made her do it instead, that he had understood. That he was so nice to her, so gentle, so considerate. Even now when he was so turned on he was keeping close to her, watching her, scouting her expression for any discomfort.

His pace into her was much faster than hers had been, more urgent, but then she was much more yielding now. Effortlessly he slid in, deeper and deeper, and it didn't hurt even as he really filled her. And he didn't stop, when he got to the hilt he kept moving, nice long strokes, quite slowly. He kissed her and moved inside her, that wonderful slick friction between them. She kissed him back and slowly started to answer his movement, push against him, and it wasn't him fucking her anymore but they were doing it together.

He pushed into her, all the way in, she rose to meet his every thrust. It was arousing, somehow more deeply arousing than having him lick her for instance. She could feel him getting more and more turned on, he was picking up speed and getting harder. It felt a little out of control like his hips started to lead on their own, a little erratic though he still tried to keep the rhythm.

And then he came. She had wondered if she'd notice but now she had no doubt, he moaned and thrust deep into her and spasmed inside her, pressing his face to her neck. She felt him pulsing in her, so deep inside, and it was so very nearly enough. She was breathing hard, and she muttered, "Oh, please, I wanna," and almost without thinking she slipped her hand between them, to her clitoris. She rubbed it, giving it the final push she needed to get there again. He moved for her, pushing with his still lingering erection as his own orgasm subsided. She got off again, explosively like fireworks, squeezing him amazingly tightly now that he wasn't quite so hard anymore. He gasped as it took his breath away, and hers, they pulsed together for a long while, rocking their hips together.

Finally he got so soft he slipped out of her. He fell over to her side and pulled her into his arms, cuddling her.

"Oh, darling," he said. "You're simply amazing."

"It's nice of you to say," she said, thoroughly satisfied. "But I don't know what I'm doing. You must usually be with women that are much more experienced than me."

"You shouldn't compare yourself to others," he said and stroked her hair. "Or actually, maybe you should. I wanna point out to you that for most women it isn't so easy to have an orgasm, I have the impression most women don't have one the first time they have sex. It's really a gift how well you cum."

"Oh," she said, a little taken aback.

She was surprised and didn't know how to relate to this tidbit of information. It made her feel like she was somehow abnormal.

"It's a really good thing," he said, again responding to her as if he was reading her mind, grasping her insecurities without her explaining them. "I don't want you to doubt it at all."

"Maybe you're just so good," she suggested.

"You're flattering me," he said, "But no. It's on you. I hope I could make your first time be worthwhile, though. At least I felt like it was working for you."

"Oh it really did," she said. "It was much better than I could imagine."

"Good," he said. "And you know, one more thing. It's gonna be even better for you. Once you find the one you fall in love with, someone you can explore your sexuality with, it's gonna be amazing for you. I just know. So you know, never settle, if someone doesn't make you feel at least this good if not better, just move on."

She giggled, flattered and touched by his words, hoping his prediction would be accurate. But then she got serious, contemplative, and she said, "But I love you."

"No you don't, sweet girl," he said, tenderly but sure of himself. "You don't know me. You can't love someone you don't know. You've got an impression of me, an idea of me, but it's not real."

She sighed, not agreeing but not wanting to argue. He held her, lazily stroking her skin, he was very relaxed now. She could feel him slipping, letting go of the day, his touch got slower and less focused and then he fell asleep.

She was so hyped up there was no chance of sleeping, no matter how relaxed she was. She stayed close to him for a while, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing. It was really endearing, it made her love him even more than making love with him. To have him be so relaxed and safe with her that he would just fall asleep like that invoked a fierce tenderness inside her. She turned carefully to see his face. The bedside lamp was still on and he was just adorable in the dim light, curls framing his face, his lashes casting shadows on his cheek.

She stroked his hair carefully, kissed his forehead, and when he didn't react she got a little bolder and stroked his cheek with her hand. He lay on his back, still naked, and she slid her hand down his chest, feeling the rhythm of his breathing. She looked at his crotch, how his penis was when it wasn't erect, trying to look at it so closely she would remember it afterwards.

On a whim she leaned closer and smelled his crotch, remembering how she had regretted him taking a shower earlier. She could smell herself on him, their joined fluids, but she could also smell him, his sweat, and she smelled his armpits for good measure and she just loved his scent.

She laid back beside him and went through the evening in her mind. She felt really good, gratified, elated. And she pondered whether she could have more, if he would be with her again, in the night or in the morning. But she really needed to go, she didn't know what time it was but she couldn't stay until morning. She had to get home, be in her own bed when her parents woke up.

She also had an inkling he might not have time in the morning and that it would be embarrassing to try and cling on to him. And she didn't think it would be reasonable to wake him up for it, the thought made her feel greedy. He'd been so nice to her and made her cum so many times, she really didn't have the nerve to ask for more.

And really, what she needed now was to get to think about this, go through it in her mind, internalize it. Write about it in her diary in as much detail as she possibly could so she wouldn't forget a single thing about it.

No, she better leave now. She got out of bed carefully, and he reached after her in his sleep and it nearly broke her heart, she really would've wanted to just stay with him forever. Instead she searched for her clothes and went to the bathroom to tidy up. She was intrigued by his semen coming out of her, it was quite unlike anything else. She scooped it to her fingers and looked at it closely, it was pearly white and sort of thick, she considered tasting it but didn't.

She washed up and dressed herself, then sat on the edge of the bed and just looked at him. He had turned on his side, curled up a bit, and she reached for the covers and pulled them on him gently, tucking him in. He was sound asleep, very peaceful, and she looked at him for a few more minutes. And she couldn't just leave, she wanted to have something to remember him by.

Her eyes set upon the necklaces on the bedside table and she took them in her hands. She remembered taking them off him just previously, and it made her awed to think how afraid she had been then, how she hadn't had any idea what to expect. There was one, a leather strap with beads and feathers on it, Native American style. She lifted it to her face and thought there might be a hint of his scent on it, as it had been on his skin.

She pocketed it, then went by the writing table, took a sheet of hotel's paper and wrote

Teddy,

I nicked one of your necklaces, I hope you don't mind.

Thank you for everything.

I won't forget you.

Love, Annabel

She pondered about leaving her contact information but decided against it. She guessed he wouldn't call and it would hurt her, and even if he did, then what? She was stuck in this small town and he had his life. She remembered how sure he had been when he had said you can't love who you don't know. So she left the note on the table, looked at him one more time, and slipped into the night.

-#-#-#-#-#-

She thought about him a lot. She was really infatuated now, and couldn't tell anyone, and so she spent long evenings pouring her heart into her diary, remembering her night with him, and masturbating.

She found a poster with him wearing the necklace she'd nicked, and it became her favorite. It was a beautiful picture no less, light in his hair, how he was singing, he looked so happy. And the necklace had some of his scent on it, and even when it didn't anymore she could remember it when she held the necklace. She never wore it herself, just stashed it with her diary.

Her crush on him subsided eventually and she started dating, especially after she moved into a bigger city and went to college. She threw herself into the game enthusiastically, had her first bad sex experiences, some mediocre ones and some very good ones that were very different from what she'd experienced with Ted. As the scope of her sexual experiences widened and she shared stories with her female - and male - friends of their first times she started to appreciate him more and more. She understood better what he had given her, how good he had made it for her, how perfect he had been about it, and she felt deep gratitude and admiration. She thought how she would've accepted a fast and dirty groping on the crummy backstage sofa, would've accepted pain, and how perfect it had been instead. How hard he had made her cum.

She still came easily and often, and by practicing and getting to know the breadth and width of her sexual preferences it became even better. Often she found herself remembering his words, how he had guessed it would only get better for her, and most of all his words, "never settle, if someone doesn't make you feel at least this good if not better, just move on". She had a bracelet made of it, it was a broad silvery one she had inherited from her grandmother, and she had the words "never settle" engraved inside. Whenever she had to make decisions about her relationships or jobs or anything she touched the bracelet and sent a thought his way. It helped her, helped her be determined, helped her demand what was due to her, and she got along in life very nicely.

She never had children, and at some point it became acute enough that she had herself checked and it was discovered she was infertile. It was a shock but she got over it, ended up being content with being aunt to her siblings' kids and focusing on her own life, career and relationships.

He was still going strong with his musical career and she attended his concerts occasionally, she still liked him and his music. Some twenty years down the road, when she was forty one and he was forty eight, she bought a ticket to his concert once more. This time she went alone and for some reason she pocketed his necklace when she left for the venue.

He was like he had been and then again not. He was older, but he was so familiar, his gestures, his voice. She listened to him and thought about his words, how you can't love someone you don't know, but she felt like she knew him.

After the concert she had a sudden but maybe not so unexpected rush of daring and went to search for the backstage entrance. Times had changed, it was much more difficult now, but she was insistent, and finally she found it. She wasn't the only one, there was a largish crowd, both men and women of various ages. There were no photos taken now, and no one was called inside.

She elbowed her way up to the security guards and talked to one of them, asking if he would ask if Teddy would see her. He looked at her with an uninterested look and said he wouldn't. She asked if he would please ask, and took the necklace from her pocket.

"Give him this," she said, "And ask. Please? Do I need to bribe you?"

He looked a little more interested, took the necklace and went inside. And sure enough, after a few minutes he came back and let her in, invoking an intense astonished and aggravated response in the rest of the crowd. She got the impression they hadn't really expected anyone to get in, that this was routine to them and she was now flagrantly violating it.

The security guard let her into his dressing room and closed the door behind her. He looked at her across the floor and they smiled at each other. The furnishings were almost similar, the table with the mirror, sofa, rack of clothes. No beer bottles though but expensive whiskey, and he had on a stylish suit instead of jeans with just a vest. His hair was the same, curly and unkempt, and she still had her long, dark hair.

"Hello there," he said, friendly. "What's your name?"

"Annabel," she replied.

"Hi Annabel, I'm Ted," he said and now she knew he remembered, and she laughed, heartily and delighted. He smiled at her.

"I know," she said.

"You want a drink?" he asked.

"Yeah I do," she said.

He poured them whiskey shots and they sat on the sofa, looking at each other, smiling.

"So, what did you want to see me for?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh my God," she said. "I just wanted to see you. Ask if you remembered."

"Yeah I do," he said. "You want the necklace back?"

He handed it back to her, she took it and said, "I'm sorry I stole this back then."

"Oh, I didn't mind," he said. "You're not the only one who has nicked memorabilia off me."

"No, can't imagine I am," she said.

"I haven't really done it in years anymore, though," he said.

"Having sex?" she joked, smiled amusedly, and he laughed.

"No, this, meeting with the fans," he said.

"Yeah, no polaroids this time," she said.

"Oh right," he said. "I had forgotten about the polaroids. I saved yours. Lost it at some point, though. But you still look the same."

She smiled, he smiled back. There was something lingering between them, and she thought she might just say what she came to say.

"I've been wanting to thank you," she said seriously. "Of what you gave me that night. I've realized it afterwards, I had no idea at the time. I'd say you've influenced my life profoundly."

"Oh, you're welcome," he said. "I'm glad it worked out for you. It was a stupid thing to do, in hindsight, it could've gotten me into a lot of trouble if you had decided to like, sue me or something, so maybe I wouldn't do stunts like that anymore. Not that many young girls would want me anymore, so I guess I don't have to be very wary of it."

"Yeah, but," she said. "Really. I had no idea, I would've settled for anything, and you made it just so perfect."

"It was good, wasn't it?" he said.

"Well, at least for me it was," she said.

"Oh it wasn't bad for me, either," he said. "Do you still doubt yourself?"

"I don't, that's the thing," she said. "And I think having that experience with you is a big part of what makes it so. I can't say how my life would've been without it, but it has really shaped me."

She showed him the bracelet with the engraving and explained it to him, and he seemed touched, impressed, a little bashful. For all that emotion he had to joke a little.

"You still cum like that?" he asked, eyes twinkling, and she answered, without missing a beat, "You wanna see?"

He laughed, genuinely amused. They looked at each other in some sort of mutual admiration and recognition, clinked their glasses together and drank. She hadn't considered fucking him when she got here, but now she did. She was quite tempted. And she thought he might not, that he might think that was what she came for, and she didn't know how to make her move. After all these years she still didn't know how to seduce him.

He smiled a small, crooked smile and asked, "So, what did you want to see me for?"

"I want to make love with you," she said and smiled back at him. It warmed her that he would remember their conversation as well as she did, or maybe he had had the same small talk with all of his groupies, she didn't care much.

She thought he might still reject her, and that it would be alright, but he leaned closer and kissed her, his hand on her cheek just as it had been. The kiss wasn't anything like it had been, though, it got quite heated quite quickly and when he broke off he said, "Oh, wow, you've grown up."