So Much Screaming
After the gig, I spotted Miss Nipples hanging about backstage. A minute later, she was pressed up against the wall of my dressing room. She didn’t have to say a word, I knew what she wanted. A quick shag with a famous rock star, and then she could get to fuck. My hands caressed her thighs, her tight stomach, her enormous breasts. It didn’t take a lot of effort before the tiny t-shirt with my name on was on the floor. Her hands were stroking my crotch, unzipping my jeans. Before I knew it, she...