Cassie scooted her ass up onto the curved hood of her trusty VW Beetle, her black leather bustier and hot pants contrasting with its faded yellow paint. The muffled sounds of Rock And Roll All Nite could be heard emanating from the arena as she tossed her mane of flaming red hair to one side and plunged her mouth onto the cock waiting on the other, her white and black pancake makeup smearing like melted butter on a short stack at Friendly’s.
She had left the concert early with three young men in tow, as well as a young woman—somebody’s sister or maybe neighbor, Cassie wasn’t sure—who had to tag along or lose her ride home. Randy was the tallest, around 6’2”, and Cassie was currently sucking his long, hard cock as he stood leaning against her left front fender. Scott, who was around 5’10” and had a good-looking stubble going on his square jaw, was standing at the right fender with his dick in one hand and a lit joint in the other. Glen was around 5’8” and looked like he was Randy’s younger brother; he was in front of the car, still unbuttoning his pants.
Darcy, the sister-neighbor, stood a few steps away, not getting involved but not completely shying away, either. She lit a cigarette and nervously flicked ash on the pavement. “What if you guys get caught?” she fretted.
“Then you’ll need to blow the cops,” Scott needled her, handing the joint to Glen, who took a quick puff.
Cassie slid Randy’s cock out of her mouth with a small pop, then turned and popped Scott’s cock in between her lips. Once both of them were sufficiently lubricated, she took a dick in each hand and began stroking them slowly. Noticing Glen’s dick twisting in the wind, she gave him a wicked smile.
“Climb up on the hood, champ,” she encouraged him as she continued pumping the other two with her hands. “Let me suck your hot cock.”
Glen passed the joint to Randy, then scrambled up, with his pants around his knees, and crouched over Cassie’s face precariously. “Like this?” he gulped.
“That’s perfect,” Cassie hummed, then flicked out her tongue and licked upwards along the length of his prick before taking the head in her mouth and suctioning her cheeks in.
“Holy crap!” Glen grunted.
“You like that?” Cassie teased, then slid her mouth onto his cock again, working it rhythmically like a slutty metronome keeping time to the music. Glen had no words. Randy handed the joint up to him and he took a big rip.
“You aren’t going to cum yet, are you?” Cassie asked him suspiciously.
“I— I might. Let me take a break.” Glen handed the joint to Scott and clambered off the hood.
“Hey, uh… what was your name again?” Randy asked.
“Cassie.”
“Hey Cassie, will you take your top off?”
The corner of Cassie’s lip curled as she unhooked the clasp and shook the straps off her shoulders, revealing her pert, ripe tits. She accepted the joint from Scott and took a deep drag, then blew a nimbus of marijuana smoke onto the proceedings.
“The pants stay on, though, fellas,” she informed them as she leaned forward, handing the joint to Glen, then resumed jacking the other guys’ dicks. “I suck, but I don’t fuck.”
Meanwhile, Darcy had flung her cigarette away and inched a couple of steps nearer. Cassie arched an eyebrow at her, daring her to come closer.
“Come on, honey, I won’t bite,” Cassie purred, “Unless you want me to.” Clichéd yet effective, especially on an ingénue fresh off the farm.
Darcy looked around nervously. Nobody else was in the vicinity, and there were certainly no cops roaming around the parking lot of the Springfield Civic Center.
“Yeah, come on, Darcy,” Scott ribbed her. “Loosen up.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Randy observed.
Glen nodded sagely and offered her the joint. “Spahk it, Dahcy.”
Darcy took a long hit and held it in her lungs as long as possible, feeling her throat burn, then blew a stream of smoke out her nose. Glen retrieved the joint and took another puff.
“We’re all friends here, right?” Cassie began, having known the four of them for at least thirty minutes. “Darcy, take your pants off,” she continued, still idly toying with the stiff dicks in her hands. “That’s right,” she whispered as Darcy shakily unbuttoned her jeans and slowly slid them down her long, coltish legs.
Shucking off her flip-flops, Darcy stepped out of her jeans and stood awkwardly in her gray tank top and pink striped underwear, unsure how to proceed. Cassie nodded to Glen, and he gave Darcy the joint again. She took another long hit and finally relaxed, the tension melting away from her shoulders.
“Now take off your underwear and climb up here,” Cassie coaxed her gently. “Let me taste you.”
Darcy nodded slowly, dropping the roach on the ground, then hooked her thumbs into the waistband and slid her underwear down to her ankles. Shaking them off her foot, she carefully climbed up onto the hood and knelt over Cassie’s face, holding onto the roof rack for support.
As this was all being arranged, Glen was slipping the black boots off Cassie’s feet and peeling off her lime green socks. He bent down, hocked some spit on her arches, then began fucking her feet. This was a first for Cassie, but she had no objections. She splayed her knees out and settled her soles together, then picked up the pace of her palms as they pounded Scott and Randy’s proud pricks.
Focusing at last on the task in front of her, Cassie ran her tongue up Darcy’s pink slit, which was dry and dusty on the outside but loaded with juicy syrup on the inside. Just like biting into a brand-new piece of Freshen Up gum, Cassie thought. As the jingle said, she didn't know the gum was loaded.
Splitting her labia, Cassie tongue-fucked Darcy for a moment, savoring her sweet nectar, then focused on her clit. Cassie waggled her tongue all around inside Darcy’s hood while Darcy thrashed around on the Volkswagen’s hood.
“Oh, shit!” Darcy cursed and moaned as she came on Cassie’s face, gripping the roof rack for dear life. Her cunt spasmed, dripping onto Cassie’s face and further ruining her KISS Army facepaint. “Shit! Shit! Fuck!”
“Oh, shit!” Scott shouted as his cock began spurting long globs of cum onto Cassie’s right arm and tit, as well as Darcy’s left calf.
“Oh, fuck!” Randy roared as he spewed his spunk onto Cassie’s left arm and tit, and Darcy’s right calf.
“Oh, shit! Oh, fuck!” Glen groaned as his pecker puked all over Cassie’s feet and ankles.
“Jiminy Crickets!” Cassie laughed as she withstood the onslaught of sperm. “What a show!” She released the dicks from her grip and placed her sticky hands on Darcy’s ass.
“Darcy, I need you to pee in my mouth.”
“Wh-What?” Darcy gasped, bewildered.
“I need to drink your pee. Please.”
“O-Okay,” Darcy agreed uncertainly. Cassie held Darcy’s ass and pressed her mouth to her trim cunt, then moaned as her mouth began filling with rich, warm pee. Cassie slurped and drank as Darcy emptied her bladder, with only a trickle running down each of Cassie’s cheeks.
“Buuurrrp!”
Glen had heard the rumors in the back of the school bus. Yeah, man, at concerts they pass around a bowl for everyone to spit in, then Gene Simmons will drink the spit. He hadn’t seen any evidence of this during the show, just Gene Simmons drooling fake blood, but this? Wow.
Darcy shakily climbed off the car with Randy and Scott’s assistance and staggered over to retrieve her clothes, her palms and knees red and sore, her calves covered in cum, her inner thighs smeared with a slurry of pussy juices and greasepaint.
Cassie licked her lips, then propped herself up on her elbows. “Boys, I want all three of you to pee on me. Right now.”
The guys all looked at each other—is this weird, or is this the greatest thing that’s ever happened to us?—then silently agreed that it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to them. Scott and Randy stood at Cassie’s waist and peed up onto her stomach and tits, while Glen peed all over her legs and feet.
Cassie lay back against the windshield, blissed out, as her new friends buttoned up their pants and freshened up as best they could. The band had run through their three final numbers—Deuce, Firehouse, and Black Diamond—and people were beginning to exit the concert venue en masse, whooping and hollering as they streamed through the parking lot. After seventy-three shows covering five months, the Destroyer tour was finally over.
“Uh, Cassie?” Scott ventured. “Are you gonna be okay getting cleaned up?”
“Yes, thank you,” Cassie smiled, licking his cum off her wrist. “I always keep a stack of towels and a change of clothes in the trunk.”
✰
Cassie got home well after midnight, idly flipping through her mail as she walked to the kitchen to get a snack, maybe the last slice of the Friendly’s Wattamelon Roll in the freezer left over from her 27th birthday party.
First, there was an official letter confirming what she had already suspected: her division at Digital was shutting down. Great. She could transfer to another department for less pay or start working on her résumé.
Next, there was a letter from the lawyer’s office; Cassie’s Mamó, Julia Culligan Campbell, had died two months earlier and her grandparents’ estate was in the early stages of being settled. Cassie tore open the envelope and scanned the letter. Probate, taxes, contested claims notwithstanding, fiduciary review, blah blah blah, sole heir to the estate...
Cassie sank into a chair at the kitchen table as she processed the news. Barring any complications, she stood to inherit her grandparents’ cabin on Lake Ossipee in New Hampshire, as well as a substantial amount of cash for repairs and renovations.
“Jiminy Crickets,” she breathed, then riffled through the rest of the mail and found a postcard in a familiar scrawl from Beautiful Ontario. It had been eight years, but she could still hear his voice when she read his letters.
Cassie, soary I haven’t written for a while, but I have good news!
My probation is over and I can legally enter the U.S. again.
I know you have a career in Massachusetts now, but I can’t
stop thinking aboot our time together in Ossipee.
Love, Kevin
P.S. A guy can dream, can’t he?
Cassie stared at the postcard. Then, slowly, she whispered, “Jiminy. Effing. Crickets.”
