She's Gonna Be A Star Ch. 06

She kicked off her clogs, and stepped forward. "Three, four!"

'Naked In A Window' sounded good, sped up and distorted. The music rolled into the crowd, galvinizing them into a frenzy. Ali was built like the shit. She had the ass, abs, legs, tits, arms for jumping around the stage almost fully naked. Her little feet were grabbed, held in the air, as she belted the lines balanced on one foot. Any time she came close to the edge of the stage, it was like an invitation for the guys to try to swarm her. The bouncers followed her back and forth on the ground level.

She came near, and almost laughed when she saw me. I was pinned against the stage, feet kicking the air with the edge of the stage in my gut, almost gagging from lack of air.

She risked the hands to step close to me. If anything, this increased the pressure behind me. With one foot on either side of my head, she crouched down and sang a few lines just for me.

All ya'll, I'm gonna fuck you,
Gonna suck you, gonna luck you.

She closed her knees over my ears (the sound all went dead) and twisted her body. Her sweaty thighs on my cheeks, my head was pulled back and forth, as she mimed riding my face. Of course the audience didn't know me from Adam. To them, I was just a lucky guy. I had a view up her thighs to her overworked underwear, which now hanged half an inch away from her sex.

When she stood again, she dislodged the wall of hands that had been on her thighs.

This was the end of the verse. She pointed at Raff and shouted, "Solo!"

As he lept in with a pretty decent effort, Ali dropped the microphone.

She clapped her hands and spread them wide, and then, stiff-bodied, fell backwards into the audience.

Crap.

The look on the bouncers' faces was near panic. They started swimming through the bodies to get to her. Ali was carried quickly past me on a sea of hands. I had a chance to be amazed by humanity -- a rare occurrence any time. 90% of the hands just passed her along, helping her glide along like a pat of butter on a hot skillet. She tumbled smoothly, face up, face down, sitting up, ass up. I wanted to thank all those people for reaffirming my faith, I wanted to buy them a drink. How cool was that, that a hormone-driven mosher would simply help a naked woman slide over the crowd? They were better people than me.

The remaining 10% of the audience had their hands on her tits. She couldn't close her legs because there were never fewer than three hands driving against her cunt. Her panties were quickly pulled off her ass, but not far down her legs, because other hands were pushing them back up and to the side.

I even saw when someone had two fingers in her mouth, her lips closed over them and her eyes closed. Some stranger had his fingers in her mouth, he was feeling her wet little tongue, her warm soft lips, the suction she applied as her cheeks hollowed. Then she was past, the fingers sliding out.

A bouncer caught her leg, and then grabbed her thigh. Another caught her other thigh. He had his nose buried in her snatch -- her panties were at her knees. They carried her bodily back to the stage, Ali reaching out in both directions to touch everybody's outstretched hands. Somehow, since she wasn't body surfing anymore, that made it okay to touch her. It looked like a crowd-groping scene from Mardi Gras, hands on her tits, hands covering her from her waist down like some grotesque skirt.

The bouncers tossed her unceremoniously back up next to Andrew. She was a small wad of flesh, with her ass towards us. The delicate folds of her pussy seemed engorged, widened. As she got to her knees, the hands were back, pawing at her ass, splitting her legs. She lost her balance for a second and fell forward. She was on her knees with her ass in a forest of hands.

Then she crawled forward, grabbed the microphone, and stood. She finished the last verse while pulling up her underwear. It was nowhere near its original shape and firmness, so it slid down her thighs of its own volition. She had to plant her feet far apart to hold it up.

Ali completed the set topless, striding back and forth on the stage and sometimes pulling her underwear up when they dropped off her ass. Believe it or not, nudity was not that risque at New York nightclubs. I would not have signaled her to take the dress off if I didn't know that it happened in normal life. On public access cable, I'd watched a Webster Hall concert where the lead singer, a thin, small-breasted hispanic woman who sang some gothy stuff, did her /whole/ set in just a pair of bikini panties. So Ali wasn't breaking new ground, being naked. Perhaps she broke new ground by bodysurfing the hands, or by stepping forward all the time and letting everybody who could reach her cop a feel.

At the end of the last song, she pulled her neglige off Andrew's bass, and slid it over her head. As the dress came down, her panties finally slid to her knees. She let them fall, and then kicked them into the crowd. The tear up the side of the dress reached her rib-cage, so when she turned or took a step, one hip was completely uncovered and smooth.

She thanked the crowd as she got back into her clogs. The audience was cheering and clapping in a frenzy. The set was a success, categorically. There was no way the manager could call Ali Katz and Band a failure. When she left the stage, the crowd was still going wild.

* * * * *
Post-show

When I made it back stage (showing my pass to security), Ali was leaning against the open door to the exit. The band, all smiles and energy, was tossing their equipment into the van. After dropping their loads at the van, the band members came back through the door and impulsively hugged and kissed Ali, several times each, before they went for the next load.

They were flushed with victory, so when Ali got kissed, she was /kissed/, mouth open and tongues working. It was like they'd liberated Paris, and Ali was the French girl. Their hands were on her neck, shoulder and stomach. The less she reacted, the more their hands drifted. Raff frenched her with his hand pulling aside the torn side of her skirt, and his palm against her cunt.

I went up to deliver my own kiss, and damn the shocked and lusty looks of the people backstage. Ali smiled at me, and gave over her mouth as I drove in, jaws working. She tasted sweet, she smelled sweaty and smokey. I couldn't help but let my hands roam -- she was just leaning against the door jamb, arms at her side, exhausted. I cupped her breasts, felt her hard nipples, let my hands fall down her flanks, squeezed her ass under her dress.

I backed off to let Seth in. He unselfconsciously kissed her right in front of me. Music and success aside, we all had a full load of libido from watching her on stage. And this kissing business was only getting us more worked up.

I let them have their fun with her, and went to find the manager. He looked just as harried and overworked as before, but he shoved a thick wad of money into my hand.

"I was wrong, and you were right. Okay?"

"No biggie," I said.

"We'll have her back, of course. Just give my office a call, to arrange dates." He gave a wicked grin, "And there's an extra thousand if you can get her to do a whole set completely naked. With that crowd-teasing stuff. That was too hot. Almost came in my pants. She has, like, no self-respect. I like that."

We glanced back at her. One strap of her neglige was broken, and the skirt part was shortened and torn due to the missing lace. Her clothes couldn't be called clothes by the normal definition. Andrew was pressed up against her, his bare chest causing her breasts to bulge out. He was whispering in her ear, and his fingers were working in her crotch.

"Me too," I said.

I went back to the van, where Ali was now collapsed against the side with the band encircling her. It reminded me of the first set we did, and the post-band show where all the band members grabbed her tits and promised to sell her dearly.

"Ali says she's never been more turned on," reported Andrew. "I don't think this night should end right now."

"I think this night should last forever," she sighed. Ali's eyes were glassy, her lips moist and parted as she breathed heavily. She was still caught up on the stage, the noise, the adulation. I was surprised she could say anything, much less form a complete sentence.

I surveyed her, feeling flushed with pride. A good commander knows when to reward the troops. "What, Ali? You're in the mood for something freaky? Are you really still turned on?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, then giggled. "I'm never coming down from this high."

I glanced at the band members. They could probably return to the club and find some easy groupies, especially after that performance. Perhaps they knew that, perhaps they didn't. They all had eyes only for Ali. I made a decision deep inside myself.

I said, "Well, then, let's take her to a bar and get her drunk. Then we can go to my place, and fuck the shit out of her."

"Yeah," said Seth, with deep satisfaction. "That's the only way to finish /this/ night."

"I am sooo gonna cum on her face," said Raff, shaking his head.

The guys piled into the front of the van, and I took her to the back of the van. She sat in my lap, and we were pressed against the equipment. The van started, and I had her all to myself, at least for the moment.

I said, "In the future, I want you in the club after the set, working the crowd. But tonight, we'll make an allowance."

"Okay," she said. I had her top down and her skirt up. My hands were roaming restlessly over her, I didn't know where to leave them. In my mind, I was feeling the fingerprints of all the other hands that had been on her that night. She was, like, public property.

"Are you okay, fucking these guys?"

"Yeah," she said. "It sounds like high school all over again."

"After tonight," I warned, "it's going be a whole new dynamic with them. They're going to want it any time, all the time. A blowjob at every practice. They're going to call you up late at night for a quick fuck. They're not going to respect you."

"Are you trying to turn me on?"

"No," I said. "I'm just telling you what you're in for. Once we cross this line, there's no going back."

"Tyler, hon," she said, turning her head to look up at me, "after tonight, I know you're the real thing. You're going to make me a /star/. You don't have to ask for my trust anymore."

Whatever.

She continued, "This is why I want to be a singer. The music, the noise, the crowds, the cheers, the pretty outfits. You tell me what you want, and I'll do it."

Her open trust made me almost cringe. She was offering me a blank check -- she always /had/ offered me everything. Sure, I was making her a success, but I was also making her into something for my own specific, very peculiar fantasies.

"I'm such a perv," I groaned.

She laid a hand lightly on my cheek. "You're not a perv. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You think I can't handle it? After all I've shown you? When I say I'll do what you want, I mean it. /Anything./ And it doesn't have to be music related. I /like/ doing what you want. It's fun. It's a turn-on. Even that boring photography stuff. Do you understand?"

She held my gaze until I nodded.

"Okay," I said. I was shocked to hear how I sounded when I said it -- I sounded like Ali. For once, for the first time, /I/ was surrendering to /her/ the same way she surrendered to me. I didn't have to worry. I didn't have to feel guilt. I didn't have to question what I wanted -- I could just ask, and she'd be there.

"Tell me to do something," she said intensely. "Tell me what you want to do. I'll do it. You'll see. You don't ever have to hold back."

I was feeling open and unguarded. "Fuck strangers," I mumbled. "Go to a porn shop and suck off anonymous cocks through a hole in the wall. Pick up guys in the park and let them play with you. Let strange men treat you like shit. Humiliate you."

"Okay," she said. "Sucking cock and lying on my back aren't new to me."

"And you have to let Harvey fuck you. That would be so hot. At the window, squeeze him into you. Let him ride your ass as you look out into the street. And also, suck him off once a day. In the mornings when you wake up and he's there. Just ease into it. Every day. Don't go to his bedroom, make him come to you. So he can't help it."

"Okay," she said. "For you, it'll happen."

"And tonight..."

"What?" she prompted gently. "Tell me, honey."

I said, "I've never fucked a girl in a men's bathroom."

"Then you will," she said simply. "You want me? Or do you want me to find another girl for you?"

"You, sweetie, of course," I giggled.

"And then later, can we still bring the guys back to your place?" she sounded... hopeful?

"You're gonna be up all night."

"I think I deserve a reward," she said, smiling.

"You do. You were amazing out there tonight. That crowd-surfing stuff was incredible."

She laughed. "I didn't expect everybody to be so grabby! It was sick fun, sliding over the crowd like that. Now I know why everybody does it. I'm gonna do it again."

"The Trash Club wants you back," I said. "The manager promised more money if you'd do a whole set naked. He's pervy too."

"Naked! What does he think I am?" she snorted, only half offended. "Dumb and easy?"

"Yeah, he does."

"I'll show /him/!" she said. "He thinks I won't stage-dive naked, he has another thing coming."

She was too cute for words. I just hugged her tightly and buried my face in her neck. She spent the whole ride recounting the set, song by song. I listened to her, feeling calm inside, her voice sounded deep with my ear pressed against her throat. When the van stopped and the rear door opened, we looked up and saw the expectant, lust-filled faces of the band. My quiet time with her was over.

I was looking forward to tonight. I was also looking forward to tomorrow, when I'd have her to myself for the whole day. How did that happen? When did this stupid, simple girl, who could barely hold up her half of a conversation, become my whole world?

"Ali's our group girlfriend," said Seth, grinning broadly. "For tonight at least," he added for my benefit.

"I want to feel her up in front of the bartender," Andrew said. "Show everybody who owns her."

"Okay," said Ali. She held out her arms and allowed herself to be assisted off my lap. Raff soon had her in a full-body clinch, kissing her deeply.

"Maybe we can whore her out for free drinks," said Andrew.

Andrew was nasty in a way I could agree with.

"Sky's the limit," I said.

"Just tell me what to do," said Ali.

And the night started.

* * * * *
Snippet from the night

Ali had no personal space all night. There was always a hand on her waist, always a hand on her hip near the torn neglige, the fingers curling under the fabric. She was turning her head from Seth to Andrew to Raff to me, dealing and receiving earnest, eye-opened kisses. We were making quite a scene, with this 4-on-1 foreplay.

Us guys were drinking quickly, but Ali was busy and got drunk more slowly. At one point, I remember Ali lying on the top of the bar, having shots drunk off her stomach (her dress pulled to her chin) by some college guys.

Then she had me by my hand. She had a soft smile as she led me through the bar to the bathroom. Ignoring the other guys in there, she bravely dragged me through the doors, and waited by the urinal as I drained my bladder.

"Let me get you hard," she said, reaching out.

"Is there enough room?" I asked. She was backed against the wall between two urinals. I'd imagined us doing it in a stall, but who was I to complain?

I remember her tearing the slit up the side of the neglige even higher, so the inverted V opened across her thighs as she stood with her legs spread. I don't remember what the other guys in the bathroom were saying, but I remember trying to answer, something agreeing that she was hot, or inviting them to try her out.

I remember her glancing back and forth as men used the urinals to either side of us. And, when she did that, there was a hand on her breast -- not my own.

"You're such a dumb, easy slut," I told her.

Her breath caught, a flush spread from her chest up her neck. That had turned her on. "I am," she told the other guys.

"You're so stupid, you'd probably fuck all these guys, if they asked you."

"I would," she said, loudly.

"I should leave you in here," I said. "You'd probably just stay and fuck everybody who walked in, wouldn't you?"

"Yes..." she groaned. "If they wanted me."

Unable to restrain herself, she pulled my cock between her legs. She levered me into the vastly wet confine of her pussy.

I pumped my cock mindlessly into her, leaning back so I could see her body surging against the tiled wall. Yeah, there were other hands on her, even then. I remember being mesmerized by how her left breast rolled in place as I moved her torso -- it was locked by strangers' fingers on her nipple.

Her mouth was open, she was making her "Mnn-mnn-mnn" sounds. Some fingers were in her mouth, and she was sucking them. Her lips were wrapped around the fingers, her cheeks were hollowed by the suction she was providing. There were lots of people in the room -- looking down, I could see several pairs of shoes and legs close around us.

I spurted into her. She gave a long sigh when she felt herself fill up.

I stood back and closed my fly. She looked at the watchers, and then back at me, questioningly. She wanted to know what I wanted. To tell the sordid truth, I wanted to leave her in there all night. Instead, I took her hand and led her back into the bar.

By the end of the night, we were too wasted to drive. We left the van parked in the street (a calculated risk) and took an insane cab-ride to my place. Ali was lying across our laps in the back seat, with poor Seth up front with the driver. I remember Raff tossing her neglige out the window.

We carried her legs-first into my apartment building and up the stairs. I was barely sentient enough to open the door. Ali took a guy in each hand, and, her eyes closed, pulled them to the bed.

I dozed, woke up, fucked her, dozed. We all did. If there was nobody on her, we slid on top and then slid off. She was slick with sweat. She was the only one who didn't get much sleep. I think she stopped enjoying herself halfway through the night, but she kept taking us, she just layed in the pile of bodies with her legs spread. The boys wanted to bring some people up off the street to fuck her, and she didn't say no. But we were too disorganized to make that happen.

The next morning, by 11am, we were alone together again. I was snuggled against her, and she was stroking my head, staring at the ceiling without expression. Used condoms were stuck all over her body.