Backstage Again

OOC: Another adventure of Dane, the rock star who considers nymphets a gift from Life itself and hates to leave a gift unwrapped. Currently closed for me and Jewelskye.

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Dane was sitting on the floor outside his dressing room, signing autographs. His position made sense because, knowing what their idol liked, the girls clustering around him were mostly proferring not notebooks or photographs to be signed but bared midriffs; slinky tops rolled up to ribcages revealing remarkably flat surfaces on which to write.

A few not-too-subtle hints from Dane had also inspired at least some of the girls to approach with their jeans unzipped, leaving panties clearly visible behind pants that, even unfastened, managed to stay up because they clung so closely to the curves of young hips and bottoms.

Dane finished a particularly intricate autograph that began at a girl's navel and continued around to the small of her back, largely because it included a sort of map that suggested possible sites for future exploration by erstwhile visitors to her largely uncharted territory.

Life was good.

Sending his young admirer back into the waiting crowd with a playful swat, Dane looked around to see who might be next.

She'd been waiting a long time for this day to come... and hours for this moment. Throughout the whole concert, she'd stood dumb founded by his presence up on the stage as she stood there in the crowd. She wasn't jumping around or trying to get his attention... Oh, no, she was just watching and listening, too in awe of him to do much else. And besides... she could admit Dane was one of the hottest men she'd ever even laid eyes upon, but she wasn't here for his looks. She was here for his music.

When the concert was over, she'd reported to the barricade the lady at the booth for the radio station had instructed her to take her pass to. She was met there by a crowd of other young women. She was fairly certain some weren't of legal age... but you didn't have to be over 18 to go backstage at a concert, now did you?

Her friend Sara, who lived not far from the stadium but didn't have a pass, had gone ahead on home, exhausted from the concert and needing to be up for her math class in the morning. But math was the furthest thing from the mind of the petite redhead that next stepped up in front of the singer, holding a picture of him in her tiny, trembling hands.

She wasn't dressed in such skimpy clothes as most of the other girls there, having opted for a simple pair of faded denim boot cut jeans that flared around her calves and feet, and an emerald green baby doll tee that matched her eyes and had a pair of guitars on it, their necks crossed in an X across her chest, the words "Rock Angel" in script lettering underneath. The shirt, too, had been a gift from her mother, to go along with the tickets.

When she stepped up in front of him, the small black boots she wore made the softest of thudding noises on the tile floor and she held out her picture, biting her lip shyly, suddenly at a loss for words even though she'd been rehearsing in her head all evening what she would say when she met him.

http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a220/witheredinnocence/redhead-1.jpg

She was cute, Dane noted. And nervous.

"Hey, doll," he said easily, taking the picture from her hand while his eyes brushed across her body, following the lines of her slim figure appreciatively. "What's your name?"

Her hands were shaking, and she was grateful that he was taking the picture from them, so she could clasp them tightly in front of her, to keep it from being too obvious. What was that? He'd asked a question...

Oh yeah! Her name. What was her name again? Lips curling into an unsure smile, her pale cheeks grew a lovely shade of red.

"Uhm... Catarina..." she stammered, only to blush more heavily. Her eyes went to the floor, and she chewed her lip in that nervous manner again. "But uhm... most people just call me Cat," she rushed the last part, the words practically falling out of her mouth in an almost sloppy manner.

"Cat," Dane replied, just managing to keep from sounding arch. "I like that."

"Now, I'll need your help to sign this, Cat - Just hold still for a minute for me, ok?"

With his usual surety, Dane placed the photo against Cat's stomach and quickly signed it.

As he handed it back to her, he glanced at her shirt again.

"Hey, I like your shirt," he remarked. "Would you like me to sign that, too?"

Cat was exuberantly happy, though it might not have shown well through the nervousness. Of course, the fact that he placed the picture against the flat plane of her stomach left her blushing far deeper than before, if such a thing were possible. She cut an adorable figure, though... Standing there looking flustered and at the same time incredibly happy.

And then he asked about her shirt, and her eyes went wide. "R-really?!" she asked, though her voice was quiet, it practically dripped shock and excitement. She felt so... special, having him offer like that. He wasn't just signing her picture and waving her away.

And then it occurred to her that he was sitting... Just how would they pull this off? Well.. he was the one doing the signing. She'd let him decide. "I... I'd love that," she said, the thought of wearing a shirt he signed making her head spin.

"Cool," Dane said. "Can you kneel down for me, then?"

When Cat knelt in front of him, Dane leaned in and started writing on her shirt, just below her collarbone, saying the words aloud as he wrote them. "Cat, keep me close to your heart. Love, Dane."

The words slanted down and across her chest from right to left, ending just below her left breast.

Dane didn't quite remove his hand after he stopped writing. Grasping the hem of her top, he pulled it out just a little, examining the design and the phrase on the t-shirt again.

"Do you play the guitar, Cat?" he asked.

Cat was breathless as he wrote on her shirt. She'd never thought she'd be so close, let alone close enough to touch him! And of course, she wasn't touching him... but he was touching her! Her heart was hammering so hard in her chest she was sure he'd be able to hear it.

Eyes watching him, she smiled softly, and nodded when he asked if she played guitar. "I... I do," she said in her soft whispering voice. Looking down, she looked over the words he'd written on her shirt, noticing how he'd written them right across her chest, unabashed by the gentle swells of her breasts.

That thought only made her blush return, her nipples hardening involuntarily beneath her shirt, a chill running through her at the same time.

Dane noticed Cat's nipples as they asserted themselves, but he'd expected that. If the situation was at all friendly, touching a girl's chest was bound to provoke her body to respond before her mind even thought to say anything about it.

Her blush was automatic too, of course, but those two things combined with the breathy whisper of her voice... Taken all together, they made a very interesting picture.

His hand still hadn't released her top. Seemingly on its own, without a downward glance on his part, it drifted an inch or two closer to him, pulling the cloth of her shirt just just that much farther away from her body, although nothing much besides her navel was bared.

"You know, I'm always interested when I meet another musician," he remarked. "How long have you been playing, Cat? Are you in a band?"

Cat's mind struggled to compute how long she'd been playing. To be honest, in the time it had taken his eyes to move to her face, she'd lost herself again and had all but forgotten what they were talking about. "Oh... uhm... about ten years?" she said, her mind surmising that she'd been given her first guitar at eight by her father before he'd left them, and her mother had been sure to keep her playing ever since, as it was one of Cat's few passions and the girl really did have good, raw talent.

"N-no... no band," she stammered, lowering her eyes. Oh she could play, that was for sure... but Cat wasn't exactly the most outgoing of girls, and very few people knew about this little hidden talent outside of her direct family.

"You really should try to hook up with a band," Dane told her. "You can only get so good practicing by yourself. Sooner or later we all need to be around other people in order to get better."

"After a moment he lowered his voice and continued. "Tell you what. Why don't you hang around until I've signed a few autographs, then maybe we can play together a bit. What do you think?"

Somehow his hand had come to rest on her waist, her shirt falling to mostly cover it, while he gently, absent-mindedly kneaded the skin he was touching.

"Unless," he added, "you need to be going?"

The hand he'd laid on her waist was horribly distracting, and she could feel the calloused tips of his fingers kneading at her skin. It sent thrills of delight through her, but she was not completely positive why. Oh of course, Cat knew what sex was, but that didn't mean she was experienced enough to understand her body's reactions to him or the possible hidden innuendos

After all... he was only asking if they could play guitar together, right? That didn't mean anything more than just some simple, innocent, fun play. And to get a chance to play with her favorite musician? She would be crazy to turn him down!

"I... OK, I'd like that," she stammered, and soon was reluctantly stepping away, off to the side, finding a spot behind one of the security guards where she would be safe from he shifting and writhing mass of people still waiting to get his attention.

Cat didn't actually have to wait all that long. Dane didn't believe in leaving girls hanging once he invited them into his private world. As he showed her through the door into his dressing room, he laid a hand gently on the small of her back.

A moment later, he shut the door behind them, and Cat and Dane were alone.

"Well, Cat," Dane said, spreading his hands in a welcoming gesture, "let me be a good host. Can I offer you something to drink? Perhaps a wine cooler?"

Cat walked with him into his dressing room, much to the annoyance of some of the fans left behind. She walked with her hands clasped in front of her, though her arms were relaxed, and her head bowed. Oh, how she looked like the picture of shy perfection just then!

When they entered the room and he offered her a wine cooler, a soft blush colored her cheek. She'd never drank alcohol before... and she was supposed to be driving herself home... Was it a good idea? Should she turn him down? She didn't want to be rude. Well... maybe just one... Wine coolers didn't have a lot of alcohol in them anyway, right?

After a moments hesitation, she smiled some. "I'd like that. Any flavor is fine," she said, trying her best to hide her inexperience and lack of knowledge. She found a seat on one of the plush couches in the room, settling back into the cushions, her eyes watching him quietly, unsure what to say.

Dane reached into a not-so-small refridgerator and pulled out a bottle, popping the cap off as he turned back to Cat.

"Well, how about strawberry?" he asked, walking over to where she sat. He tipped the bottle for just a moment, blocking the opening with two fingers, then stretched his hand out to Cat, finding her lips and brushing them with the flavor of strawberry and the delicate bite of alcohol behind the fruit.

"Do you like that, Cat?"

Cat found her heart racing as he moved close enough to brush his wet fingertip over her full lips. Without much thought, her tongue slid out, tasting the liquid not only off her lips but his finger, before she blushed and looked down, the thoughts that simple action brought to mind lewd enough to leave her stammering.

"That... that is rather good, actually," she answered, before looking up at him, wondering if he was thinking the same thoughts she was, after that simple, erotic moment. Was he even aware thats what was going through her mind? Did he care? Would he notice? Were all those rumors about him true? Or did he honestly have an interest because she was a fellow musician?

"Cool," Dane said.

He reached toward Cat with the bottle, letting its chilled base touch her collarbone, then trace the neckline of her top, leaving a trail of condensation across her skin.

"There you go, then." He handed her the bottle, taking up one of his own and clinking it against hers. "Cheers."

Dane tipped his head back and drank.