Fucking the lead singer after the show and making her sing a different way

Around 2023-2024 I used to hang out at this music venue near my apartment just to have a few drinks, hit on some women, and listen to whatever indie band or solo singer was booked that night. It was a dark venue with sticky beer-soaked floors, but it was popular within the scene. Most nights it's some long-haired dude with a guitar singing a love ballad for the girl he's about to cheat on with one or two of the girls in the crowd or a smelly-looking guy singing about injustices in whatever part of the world was in the news that week. That was fine with me, I enjoyed that kind of thing. You never know which of these guys might be the next Bob Dylan... but... having listened to them, I can confidently tell you it's none of them.

On this particular night I watched the dark shadows of band members setting up the stage and noticed one who was considerably shorter than the rest carrying around a guitar that looked oversized on its body and setting up the microphone at the front of the stage. A woman singer almost always meant a good night because they typically actually had a great voice instead of just a guitar and a message.

Soon, it was time for them to begin. The stage lights reflected off her pale skin and she flung her long brown hair behind her back. She had on a tight black top that draped off one of her shoulders, a spikey belt holding up dark blue jeans, and black Converses. Not an unusual outfit for this type of music. She was short and thin with a cute face, a little nose ring on one side, and beautiful smile. She sang the first song of their set, an original, fast-paced punky kind of song, and really got the small crowd into it. I was right: she had the most amazing voice I'd heard in this venue. Needless to say, I was falling in love, or lust, or limerence, or some other L-word. After the first song, she introduced herself as... well, let's call her Lauren. In town from Las Vegas with her band. They played a good mix of originals and covers.

She definitely knew how to impress the crowd. Throughout the set, I noticed several men come to the bar where I was sitting and offer the bartender to buy her a drink when she was done. It wasn't an uncommon form of courtesy to buy the artists drinks here, but it did get a little out of control whenever there was a woman, as I'm sure you could imagine. I'd bought a drink for a male artist once who I thought was particularly good, but never a woman. I'm sort of that middle-of-the-road chivalrous: I like doing those kinds of nice things, but hate to pile on when I know everyone else is doing it because I know it can get annoying. It's a stupid ritual anyway since the venue comps the first round of drinks for the talent. This time, though, I turned to the bartender and offered to buy drinks for the whole band. He knew me pretty well at this point, and we talked about my thought process. He liked it, and wished me luck.

The set finished and a roaring cheer filled the room. The band thanked everyone, and stepped into the back to cool off before coming out and collecting their free drinks. The other members came out first and came to the bar, where the bartender informed them of my generosity. They were all a bit surprised, but thanked me all the same. She came out last and joined them.

"How wasted am I getting tonight?" she asked.

"I counted 6 men who walked up here during the set," one of the band members said.

"Pretty damn wasted, then."

She asked the bartender, who confirmed 7 drinks.

"Off by one," she joked.

"He was already up here," the bartender said, pointing at me. I raised my glass to her, and she thanked me.

"Don't feel too special, he bought drinks for all of us," the same band member said.

"That's generous," she said. "I usually end up sharing mine with them anyway, if I'm being honest, but don't tell any of the other guys that."

"Smart," I said. "Don't let anything go to waste, I suppose. It's better than taking them in a to-go box."

She laughed at what was admittedly not that great of a joke. I talked with her and the rest of the band for a little while until they all got their drinks and got a booth. I stuck around the bar and talked with a few other patrons. Chatted with some guys about the set, tried and failed to talk to a few girls. I'd occasionally peer over at their table to watch the other guys who bought her drinks come up and make awkward conversation, just as I had.

"No luck?" I heard from behind me. I turned around and it was Lauren. "I've been watching you strike out all night."

"Ouch, if I knew I had an audience I would've tried harder," I said. "But I'm sure you're used to having all the eyes on you."

"Yeah, well, let's just say I've struck a few guys out myself," she said, looking around the bar. By this point I think a few of the men who had bought her drinks had given up and gone home, but some remained, peering over their drinks at her.

"I meant more because you're up on stage, but yeah I can see why you'd turn some heads even off the stage," I said. She laughed again and slouched back against the bar.

"I really can't tell if you're hitting on me or not," she said.

"If you can't tell, then it's working," I responded. She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and smiled. She had this little toothy smile with dimples that pushed her eyes tight. She offered me another one of her free drinks, then sat down to chat. We talked for a while about all sorts of things. We watched her bandmates all approach the girls I'd struck out with earlier and others. Only one of them was successful, the others left without dates for the night. They all came to say goodbye to her and thank me again for the drink.

"So did you actually like the show, or were you just trying to get in my pants?" she asked, taking a sip of her drink.

"A little bit of both," I admitted. "You guys were great though, I got kind of Shins vibes at times. Like their early stuff."

"I've never heard of them," she said. I was a little shocked. In my mind, they're kind of the go-to indie rock band. Definitely the type she would know. I asked if she'd seen Garden State, to which she said no.

"Well if you'd seen the movie, you'd now they'll change your life. I've got all their albums on vinyl at my place. I'm walking distance," I said.

"Sure, I like getting new inspiration," she said. I paid my tab and we walked back to my apartment. I immediately grabbed the vinyl for their first album "Oh, Inverted World." From the moment the first chords of Caring is Creepy reached her eardrums, she was bobbing her head with the tune.

"Fuck, this is great," she said.

I grew up playing guitar so I knew a little bit of music theory, but not as much as she did. We talked a lot about music and what it meant to us. Before we even knew it, it was time to flip it over. I looked at the track list and saw the most well-known song off this album, New Slang, was the first song on Side B.

"Oh, you're gonna love this one," I told her. She closed her eyes and listened to every note, swaying left and right as it went.

"I feel like I've heard this one before," she said.

"You probably have, it's pretty popular."

"This is my first time really listening to it, though." When it was over, she shook herself off. "I got goosebumps."

"That's when you know a song is special," I said.

"Can you play it?" she asked. I could, so I went and grabbed my guitar. She looked up the lyrics on her phone and we had a little impromptu jam session with me playing the guitar and the two of us singing along. It was a little rough, but we worked together well enough. "I might see if the guys wanna play this at one of our shows when we go back home," she said when we were done.

When the album ended, I went and put on another. When I returned to sit next to her, I sat a little closer than I was before. She definitely noticed, and knew where this was going. I leaned in and kissed her and she wrapped her arms around me. We made out there for a while before I pulled back and asked if she wanted to take it to the bedroom. She looked into my eyes and nodded.

I grabbed her by the hand and took her there. We continued making out and started pulling our clothes off. I lifted her black shirt over her head and threw it on the ground and undid her bra. She unbuttoned my shirt just the same, then pushed me down on the bed to remove my pants with my feet still on the ground. She stroked my cock and fit it halfway in her mouth before she started to gag. I told her to take it easy, I didn't want her to ruin her voice. She started to laugh a little bit and almost choked on saliva. She leaned over and coughed until she was fine.

"Shit, I didn't mean to actually choke you up," I said. She waved me off and told me I was fine. Once she regained her composure, she went back to slurping on my cock. I could feel the cold metal nose ring tapping body as she bobbed up and down on it. She kept going until I could tell her jaw was starting to tighten up. I sat up and lifted her into a standing position, where I helped her get her pants off as well.

"Get over here," I said, guiding her over me until she was sitting on my face. I wrapped my arms around her thighs and reached them up to grab her breasts while my tongue started working its way around her clit. She let me know that her knees were getting weak from the tight position they were in, so I flipped her over onto her back so her head was up on my pillow and kept going a little longer. I watched her stomach cave inward then curve out as she squirmed and arched her body back and forth. I reached my hands up her body and felt it up and down. Her moans sounded better than her voice. They were rhythmic and almost musical in a way.

Once she was sufficiently aroused, I reached over to my bedside table and grabbed a condom. I leaned back to slip it on and she crawled on top of me. She lowered her body down on my legs, grabbed my cock in her hand, and placed it in front of her stomach to compare it to her body. It went just a bit past her bellybutton.

"Fuck," she said. She lifted herself back up and lower herself down on it until it penetrated her. She let out a loud moan as it went deeper until it couldn't go any further. She rode it up and down and grinded her body against mine to get the most of it and feel it all inside her. I reached around and grabbed her ass to get myself some leverage to fuck her from underneath. She leaned forward and rested her tits on my chest while I thrusted into her.

"Get behind me," she said, getting back up and letting my cock slap my stomach. She got on all four and backed up to me as I slid back in. I pushed my big hand against her back until she arched it down for me. Her hair slid down her shoulder on the left side and she peered back up at me the other way as I fucked her. She threw her head back and moaned, "harder, please." I picked up the pace and used more force to push myself in as far as I could go. Her moans turned more into screams as I felt her pussy moisten even more, then start quivering around my cock as she came. I held myself inside her as long as I could before her body pushed me out. At that point, I asked her to flip over.

She got down on her back and I crawled on top of her. She lifted her legs over head and rested them on my shoulders. I wrapped my hands around her thighs once more and pulled her onto my cock, and thrusted inside her. I kept pulling her body into mine as we went so that I could go as deep as I could. I looked down and saw her flat stomach bulging with every thrust. I lowered myself down on her body and she bent her knees under her chin until the pushed into her tits. I reached my hands around her head and she held her legs against her body as I thrusted down into her.

"Ffffffffuck that feels amazing," she moaned. "Keep going." It didn't take too long for her to cum again in this position, then I felt myself not too far behind. I sped up until I reached a good pace, then filled the condom with my load. "I love feeling your cock pulsing," she said. I pulled out and trashed the condom.

"I think side A finished a while ago," I said.

"Oh yeah, that," she said with a laugh. I walked back out and flipped the vinyl so we had something to listen to while we laid back down and rested. She grabbed her phone and showed me a text in her band group chat asking if she was okay, not being murdered or anything. She let them know she was fine and would meet them back at the hotel in the morning.

"Assuming you don't mind," she said.

"Seeing as I was literally inside of you like a minute ago, the least I can do is offer you a bed and a shower," I said.

She stayed the night and we parted in the morning so she could catch her flight back to Vegas, since that was their last show in LA. I found her band's social media and gave it a follow, as well as hers. They were slightly more popular than I thought they would be, amassing about ten thousand followers at that point and some small hits on Youtube. Her story featured a selfie of her at the airport with New Slang playing over it, so I naturally had to give it a like and she followed me back. In the end, that's really just the story of how I got my most famous follower.