Cali4nia

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AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is an updated version of ‘The Best Show Yet’ which was previously posted on as “Roger Simian”

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the singer brushes stray strands of silky black hair from her cheek & gazes dreamily at the crowd—this is gonna be a wild one—the best show yet—the young punks can hardly contain themselves—they know full well that these girlz always somehow end up naked by the end of each performance—but tonight there is something else—something dark & electrical—an erotic charge—she can feel it burning inside—tingling over her belly—up thru her flushed breasts—hmn yes—& there it is—damp between her thighs

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los angeles—usa—two weeks visiting my daughter catriona & ex-girlfriend joni in cali4nias tinsel city—joni & i have somehow managed to stay friends thru the years weve been parted but this is really uncomfortable—shes got a new man in her life now—david the psychologist—david the psychologist is sickeningly nice—a caring & reasonable man—my little girl thinks hes terribly funny—shes even started talking like him

ive decided to hate david the psychologist

to be honest i dont care for cali4nia much either—it doesnt impress me—id much rather visit the big apple where its dark & cool & the people are too hip to do anything but sneer—actually the gotham folks seem a lot like the characters i grew up w/ in the north east of england—their biting humour is much better suited to my own mildly sarcastic temperament

ive never been much of a sun-lover it has to be said—this afternoon i felt like a tall unshaven sceptre walking out there amongst the sun-tanned hordes w/ my scruffy hair bikini kill t-shirt & tacky wraparound shades—i could tell by the way people were looking at me they thought i was some kinda freakoid

but now its dark—everything changes in la at night—thats when the strange midnight creatures crawl out of their mysterious hidden underworld & infest the streets like zombies—my people

ive been slamming tequilas all evening at the hotel bar & im utterly annihilated—feeling horny—the sun-tanned beach-sluts arent really my type but right now i find every one of them tantalising—the curves of their toned bodies—billowing blonde hair—gravity-defying silicon tits—the scent of many perfumes

i need to see naked flesh—this is what i have decided

& so i find myself at the entrance to a sex club—dancing grrrls—a striptease show—back home id be way too british & reserved to go in but out here in cali4nia im a stranger—im free to reinvent myself as a street-smart playboy—whos gonna know any different?— i hand over my uncle sam dollars & someone ushers me inside—as i stumble thru the foyer my ears are assaulted by noisy rock—some chick screaming her lungs up

very strange

i look over at the burly pony-tailed doorman?this is a strip club isnt it??

?most nights my friend—tonight though we got a band playing—check it out—you wont be disappointed?

feeling somewhat cheated i wander inside

ive gotta admit it—the energy in the place is wild—as bursa escort i push thru the crowd i begin to realise why—up there on the stage three lithe sex-kittenz are strutting around in the tightest dresses—thrashing madly at their instruments—hair spraying out in every direction as the goateed drummer batters his drums like a maniac—the bass-player & guitarist are gorgeous—one blonde the other crazy-red but its the chanteuse that stops me in my tracks

she clutches at the mic-stand—eyes closed tight—sullen & pale w/ shiny midnight bangs & smudged crimson lipstick like a 1920s flapper-girl in a parisian whore-house—she looks so striking out here in sunny cali—ive got a tv eye on her—the way she hollers n wails so full of rage & tenderness—panting & squealing—voice cracking as she writhes round the stage in her flesh-grabbing black mini-dress & calf-length boots—caressing the mic like she wants to felate it—wrapping her pale thighs round the stand—rubbing up against it—she teases her audience like an exotic dancer—following the shape of her breasts w/ slender fingers—tickling her hand down over her belly till you think shes gonna touch herself down there—but then spinning round—swinging her bony hips to the primitive rhythms—pretty ass moving beneath her dress—oh

the kidz are going mad for this space-age siren w/ her eastern european cheekbones & piercing eyes—what colour are they?—green?—grey?—im right up at the front of the stage now but i just cant tell

“what are they called?” i yell at the podgy youngster standing next to me

“what you say?”

“the band—what are they called?”

the guy looks at me like im mad “dude—you never heard of love me by proxy?”

“no—whos the singer?”

“rachel babylon”

turning my gaze back to the stage im startled to see that she is looking right at me—smiling—smiling at me

rachel babylon reaches a pale hand out towards my face—does she want to stroke my cheek?—is she going to slap me?—a finger brushes over my cheek & i feel a spark jolting thru my nervous system—my flesh sizzles—my stomach cramps—i can feel the sweat trickling down my back—for a moment that seems to last forever she gazes into my eyes—rachel draws the wraparound shades from my face & slips them over her eyes—she blows me a teasing kiss as the cherry-haired guitarist stage-left smashes her instrument to the ground

feedback shrieks from a marshal stack—the kidz holler for more

well rachel leans right over now—squashing her breasts up together—if i reached out my hand i could touch her alabaster skin—shes so close i can smell her scent—she shakes her body just a little & her pert boobies wobble enticingly in her dress—the singer laughs & grabs hold of a bottle of burgundy wine which sits by the base of the mic-stand—her glazed lips part—glistening under the lights—she licks her tongue up the neck of the bottle—knocking back her head she slugs the wine down

some kid wolf-whistles & rachel babylon laughs out loud—a stream malatya escort of crimson liquid trickling from her lips down her chin & sweet throat into her cleavage—gazing out at the crowd in those cheap shades she looks like an erotic vampire—fresh blood dribbling from her lips—she deposits the bottle on the floor & wipes the back of her hand over her mouth—inadvertently smudging lipstick across her cheek

o rachel—the blonde bassist has moved up behind you so that her tits are pressed into your back—you push your ass against her as she kisses your neck—shivering—wild pleasures—blondies hands move round your body—smoothing the black material over your belly—stroking upwards till shes cupping both breasts—the room erupts & you grin at us—blondie runs the tip of her tongue over your earlobe—-drawing you around to face her—kissing you full on the lips—pushing her tongue into your mouth

you pull my shades off & hurl them out into the sea of clutching hands

well now the blondie the bass-slut slips her fingers down into your cleavage—grabs hold of your dress—tearing the material open so that your pretty white boobies are exposed to the room—she flicks at your dark nipples & we gasp like children at a pantomime—stunned & excited—youre just loving this arent you rachel?—languishing in the attention

you beckon to me but im rooted to the spot

“its ok honey—we dont bite—much”

the bass player struts towards me & reaches a hand out—pulling me up on stage—forcing me onto my knees as the kidz laugh whistle cheer—drawing my face into your cleavage rachel—im in a strange dark dream—i suck a nipple into my mouth—rolling my tongue over it—feeling it swell up between my lips—i can smell your damp skin—taste just a hint of burgundy wine

the blonde rips your dress open & forces your thighs apart—i feel myself hardening—you are completely bare beneath the tattered remains of your mini-dress—no underwear—no pubic hair—shaved completely smooth

blondie licks at your throat—her hand moving up between your legs—brushing over your shaved pudenda—this is too much for me—I think im going to burst right open—i watch awestruck as one finger disappears between your glistening labia—an intimate exploration that causes you to arch your back—breasts thrusting out towards me—belly twitching

the bass-slut draws her finger out now—all slick w/ your juices—smooths it up over the swollen lips—lovingly pats your clitoris—she tips the bottle of wine once more so that a stream of blood-red liquid runs down over your pretty white belly round her fingers—your legs shaking in your calf-length boots as the burgundy flows cold & sticky over your cunt—showering down between your thighs it seems to piss out of you like a crimson waterfall onto the stage—splashing up over your boots—you grab my hair in your fingers and pull my face into your crotch—urging me to to lick you

the kidz go wild—cheering me like some valiant gladiator at the colosseum as i eat your pussy—hands çanakkale escort grasping at your buttocks—tongue exploring your divine punami—your fingers twisting in my hair

all the while the rhythm section pounds—a weird tribalistic music—the soundtrack to our dark ritual—summoning hexen forces from within our loins

blondie pulls me onto my back now—tugs off my boots & socks—throwing them out into the audience—she unbuttons my ripped black jeans—drags these & my boxers down over my legs—the hard stage-floor cold against my buttocks

you stand above me rachel babylon—legs parted either side of me—i run my fingers up your legs & cup each of your buttocks in my hands—you shiver & lower yourself down onto your knees—your pretty shaved cunt right there before me—its fragrance filling my nostrils—i lap my tongue over the smooth labia—an intoxicating cocktail of red wine & sex

& now your blonde friend sucks my cock in between her lips rachel—i feel my foreskin draw back as her wet mouth moves on me—tongue circling the head—hardly able to concentrate as my own tongue slobbers over your shaved pudenda—your thighs shuddering around me

“i… i want you inside me!”—you shove the blonde aside & straddle me—sliding onto my cock—you stare wide-eyed into my face—thrusting yourself against me “uh”

the whole room has gone insane—people tearing off each others clothes—fucking—sucking—jerking off—hundreds of writhing naked bodies—a fullscale orgy

i notice the podgy young fan from earlier—his cheeks flushed—jaw dropped wide open—he stands before you pumping his small prick in his fist—eyes flickering shut as he groans out loud—his face screws up tight & his shoulders hunch as he shoots thick wads of sperm over your breasts

“sssorry” he stammers as his sticky ejaculate trickles down onto your belly

you cannot speak—just grin & pant

& now the punky blonde slut is crawling between us to suck at your breasts—she licks your trembling body— lapping the creamy sperm from your breasts like a hungry cat—i see it dribble down over her lips as she grabs my hair—thrusts her pussy into my face—forces me to lick it until she screams & tumbles to the floor

this is all too wild—i grab your pale shoulders rachel—thrusting my cock in your cunt—in & out—in & out—fucking you—my rock n roll slut—beautiful & wild

oh rachel—clumsy fingers stroking your delicate clit—flushed breasts wobbling as you bounce on my lap—clutching feverishly at yourself—bodies smacking together—cunt sliding on cock—labia dragging on the slippery shaft—a moan tearing from your lips “im cumming im cumming” & you squeel—quivering around me—mashing up against me as my body doubles over & i pump my sperm into your hot silk

“uhnmnph”

~~~

rachel babylon rolls exhausted onto the floor—lays there panting—toes curling in her boots as she plays w/ her breasts—legs splayed—body dripping w/ sperm—she feels so degraded & dirty yet also somehow powerful—the singer knows that she is beautiful & strong—her audience loves her—it worships at her feet—rock n roll goddess

she scratches a fingernail over this scruffy strangers smooth chest—he kisses her forehead & rests his warm cheek against her belly

~~~

well i guess cali4nias not so bad rachel babylon—could be worth sticking around baby

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32