Janet and Lindy tongued each other in a sloppy, openmouthed kiss. Lindy, platinum-blond with fair skin, smoothed her hand over the strap of ebony-haired Janet’s soft-pink camisole before pulling it down and freeing one of her plump, dark tits. Her nipple was a deep violet, and Lindy skimmed her fingers over its tip before giving it a pinch.
Janet let out a low moan, sucked Lindy’s bottom lip into her mouth, and released her creamy tits from the scant blue tube top she wore. They kissed each other more frantically, groaning, pinching and twisting each other’s nipples.
“That’s hot, man,” Zane said, stroking the bulge under his jeans.
Zane Michaels was the keyboardist for our band, Emerald Phoenix. I loved him like a brother, but he hadn’t matured past his teen years. I couldn’t deny the ladies looked great, but this wasn’t anything I hadn’t witnessed many times before.
Lindy was now nestled between Janet’s firm thighs, her pink tongue sliding between the folds of Janet’s purple pussy. Zane looked about to explode.
And I couldn’t have cared less.
Oh, Janet and Lindy were hot as hell. I’d had them separately and together, and they both gave killer blowjobs and let me fuck not only their pussies but their tight asses as well. Janet loved to be handcuffed to the bed, and Lindy let me spank her as hard as I liked.
Tonight, though? I wasn’t interested.
Same old, same old.
I still had my post-performance high, but I wasn’t looking for the usual orgy, despite Janet and Lindy’s show and the rest of the scantily clad groupies milling around looking for attention. A redhead was perched on the lap of Bernie Zopes, our drummer, and the backup guitarist, Tony Walker, was getting a BJ from two women who looked like they might be twins.
Nah, couldn’t be.
I’d already pushed a few hotties away after one shoved her tongue into my mouth and grabbed my crotch.
“What’s with you, man?” Zane had asked.
I hadn’t given him a response.
Truthfully, I didn’t have one. I just wasn’t in the mood. Not for this, anyway.
Zane passed me the joint he was smoking, but I waved it away. I no longer smoked. Bad for my voice. I’d already turned down his flask as well as the many drinks and drugs offered by the chicks in attendance. No booze. Not tonight. And I didn’t do anything harder than that.
Not in the fucking mood.
One more concert, and one more drug- and booze- and groupie-filled after-party.
If anyone had told me five years ago I’d be tired of this scene, I would have laughed in his face.
Janet and Lindy finished their show and stood. Janet strode to Zane and unbuckled his belt, while Lindy walked toward me.
“Hey, Jett. You have way too many clothes on.” She cupped my crotch, my lack of erection apparent. “Not happy to see me tonight?”
“Nothing personal, sweetheart. Just not in the mood.”
“I always did love a challenge.” She nipped at my neck.
“This isn’t a challenge.”
She pulled back and glared at me with her dark-blue eyes. “Everything’s a challenge. I want you tonight, and I’m going to have you.” She snaked her tongue over my bottom lip.
Well, what the hell? Fucking Lindy was no hardship, and I didn’t have anything else pressing to do. My groin began to tighten.
But was it because of the blonde grinding on me? Or the auburn-haired, brown-eyed goddess I caught a glimpse of across the room?