Sex With the Guitarist by Jenna James Page A

aspect of his appearance was perfect. Hair – check, leather pants and jacket – check, and last but not least, his most treasured feature, perfect face – check. He smiled at his reflection, pleased with what he saw. Running his hand across the fine stubble that covered his face, he nodded appreciatively, as he came to the conclusion that he liked this look; the rugged, unshaven, bad boy-look that had women falling over themselves to get to him. At 19 years old, he was a fine example of perfect genes. He stood at an impressive 6 feet 5 inches and had worked incredibly hard to achieve his ideal body structure, the kind of body that most men could only dream of. Yes, he was a work of art.
     
    “Come on, Brad.” A sudden voice piped up from outside in the corridor, sounding agitated.
     
    “Coming”,Brad shouted back.
     
    He took one last look in the mirror before picking up his guitar and swinging the strap over his shoulder.
     
    All the signs were there; tonight was the night when he would at last take home the girl he had been pursuing for months. Annie Walker was coming home with him tonight.
     
    Suddenly the lights in the hall dimmed and the eager crowd, already drunk and hungry for entertainment turned as one to face the stage. In position at the foot of the stage, Jennifer and Annie waited, Jennifer holding tightly to Annie’s hand, both to stem the trembling she felt taking over her body and as a way of preparing herself for what was to come. As the lead singer in her band, Jennifer was far from shy, in fact, once on stage she became her alter ego, Lusty Jen, the singer that had guys queuing up to be with her. Her voluptuous figure that curved in ways that would have made Beyonce jealous was her greatest asset. She was also pretty, in a sweet way that always seemed to make people think she was innocent and naïve, untouched by the stigma that had attached itself to Annie so early in her life. She wasn’t innocent. Not by any stretch of the imagination. She was simply saving herself for the right man … Brad.
     
    “It’s about to start, Jen.” Annie turned to her and licked her lips suggestively, running her tongue first along the top lip and then across the bottom one, slowly, staring at Jen’s lips as she did so.
     
    “I’m ready. This had better work.” Jen said, pulling the front of her one piece dress down with both hands to reveal the tops of her breasts, that were slightly too big for the dress she wore. Luckily her nipples weren’t too pronounced, as she had chosen not to wear a bra, after all, if things went the way she planned, a bra would only serve as a nuisance.
     
    The crowd roared, and beside her Annie squealed in delight as the curtains pulled back to the sound of drums building up to a crescendo and there illuminated in the light was Brad. Clad in a thick black leather jacket, tight black leather pants and black boots, the mere sight of him caused Jen to gasp involuntarily. As the lead singer started things off by conversing with the crowd, Brad stood and surveyed the crowd, no doubt seeking his next conquest for the night and as his eyes began to draw closer to their position Annie turned to Jen and initiated their plan.
     
    As Annie’s lips pressed against hers, Jen was at first a little hesitant, her body stiffening as she felt Annie’s tongue probing between her lips eagerly, wet and slippery. She quickly recovered her composure though, as she sensed that Brad was watching. Looking up, as she began to respond to Annie’s expertly caressing tongue with her own strokes and probing, she saw that Brad was fixated upon them, his eyes wide, filled with what looked to her like lust. She had him; finally, after months of being overlooked and ignored, he was finally paying attention to her. She realized she was enjoying the kiss more than she should have, and when she felt Annie’s hand slip between her legs, she didn’t protest, in fact she obliged by widening her stance a