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Damo and Caitlin  

ikpmgsn 64M
0 posts
1/20/2019 8:25 am
Damo and Caitlin


This is one I wrote for a friend back in 2006. She read one of my other stories and asked me to write an erotic story for her -- being as explicit as I wanted -- so I did. We talked about sex a lot and I knew what she liked and didn't like, and what she fantasized about. Caitlin is proud of her boobs, so I give them special attention here. (Personally, as an devout oral lover, nice breasts are great, but I really love a sensitive nipple or two.)

Caitlin loves an Irish singer/songwriter named Damien Dempsey A few months after I wrote this she went to Ireland and actually slept with Damien. I make Damien a much better lover than he apparently is. According to Caitlin, most Irish guys are relatively traditional and unimaginative in bed. Like, most don't give oral.

Six weeks down, one month to go.

The tour was going very well. He was finally getting some traction in the States. VH1 had put Damo’s "Hold Me" video in heavy rotation, and "Patience" had just been released as a single in the US. His shows were selling out. Two weeks up and down the East Coast, then shows in Ann Arbor, Chicago, Madison, Minneapolis, then down to Austin, then Tempe, over to Los Angeles, up to Santa Cruz, San Francisco, Eugene, Portland, and tonight: Seattle. Hours on the bus practicing, napping, watching satellite TV. They arrived at the Showbox in the early afternoon.

He often spent nights sleeping on the bus, but in Seattle they put him up in a nice hotel room a few blocks up hill from the club. He spent the afternoon exploiting the hotel’s amenities. First a workout in the gym – a half hour running uphill on the treadmill, some venting on the speed bag, then several sets with the weights and the daily abdominal routine.

Next it was the pool, the dry sauna, the steam room, back in the pool and back up to the room to shower. He met his U.S. publicist for dinner at a seafood restaurant near a public market of some sort. Then they walked across the street to the Showbox. A few fans were already lining up outside. When they started a spontaneous “Damo, Damo, Damo” chant he stopped for a while to chat and sign CD covers.

Ninety minutes later he walked onto the stage in complete darkness as the invisible audience screamed, whistled and applauded in anticipation. A drum began to beat stage right. A mandolin started playing from the other side. He sang one word and the audience erupted so loudly he could hardly hear himself sing the second. He started playing his guitar, and bright white floodlights suddenly flashed on to illuminate him in tight black T shirt and jeans. More lights revealed the musicians around him. The crowd was already singing to every word. This would be a good night.

He wrapped up the first song, and made his customary welcome to the audience. It was almost the same in every city -- just don’t fuck up and say hi to Vancouver when you’re in Seattle. Vancouver was day after next. Those further back in the crowd were grey shapes, but in front he watched the faces as he spoke – smiling, laughing, hooting and clapping. He scanned for the pretty ones. Left, right, middle. Oh, wait. Go back…That’s a nice chest. Okay, sneak another look. Too often, the nice bodies were attached to the so-so faces.

Dear God. She’s gorgeous.

The “she” was a fair-skinned brunette with an absolutely angelic face. He tried not to stare but his eyes kept finding their way back to that…that Vision of Heaven. She positively radiated. He realized that she was looking at him and smiling, and he looked away in a moment of very uncharacteristic embarrassment. He shouted into the microphone, “So, how you’d like hear another song?” And the crowd roared.

He tested a few strings on his guitar and walked back to his bass player, leaning into his ear. “That brunette in the front with the pretty rack just left of my monitor. She seems familiar. Someone famous? Don’t look…Okay, now look.”

The bass player looked down and pointed towards one of Damo’s guitar pedals, as if that was the subject, and caught a quick glance of the brunette. He shrugged and shook his head while he raised his eyebrows in approval. Holding his hand on the side of his face to prevent lip reading, he replied, “Don’t think so. You want to make her famous, Damien?” Damo smiled and nodded affirmatively.

One song followed another as he charmed the audience. He was in rare form. His voice felt stronger and clearer here. He was drawing power from the crowd, and one person in particular. She was so pretty her image still stayed in his mind even when he looked away.

It would be rude to several hundred other people if he just paid attention to her, but when he did catch her eye she would always be smiling and singing and looking into his eyes as if she had known him forever. Who was she? Where had he seen her before? The men standing nearby were looking at her more than they were looking at him. Was she an actress? A model? Anyone that beautiful must be famous. And apparently she was quite a fan. She mouthed in perfect synchronicity every word he sang. He had to find out what the voice coming out of a woman that gorgeous must sound like.

More songs, a finale, two encores, and the show was over. He rushed off stage and was immediately pulled into a maelstrom of people seeking his attention. Roadies, the tour manager, the publicist, the A&R rep, three music critics who wanted interviews…he just really wanted a beer.

The scene settled down a bit a few minutes later and he had time to grab a brew from the barrel full of ice and take a long swig. He soon noticed heads turning over towards the door as first men, and then women, were distracted by a new presence, but his view was blocked by a couple of idiots. Looking around them, he finally saw her. Her. The one. The Brunette. She was walking straight towards him with a confident smile on her face and those gorgeous breasts lighting the way.

“Hey, who let you in?” he said as she approached, laughing as if they already knew each other.

“Oh, you know, I have my ways,” she said, smiling.

He rushed up and hugged her, quickly whispering in her ear: “what’s you name? How do I know you?”

“Caitlin,” she whispered back. “We’ve met before, in Ireland. I was 17, with a group of other people. You probably don’t remember me.”

That's why she was so familiar. “Oh, but I do remember. Come with me.”

He guided her over to the side of the room and talked softly, “We need to act like old friends or someone will come up and expect me to talk to them. I’d rather talk to you.” He smiled and looked down at his feet, almost shyly. “So…Caitlin, where did we meet?”

She explained when and where, and he retrieved the memory from among the hundreds of shows he’d done and women he’d talked to in the years since. “I do remember you. I remember that night. That was the night my brother called and said my cousin had been in a car accident. That night my cousin went to the hospital and I met a beautiful American girl,” he said, looking at her. “I must have been very distracted. Was I nice to you?”

“Yes. You were very nice, and it seemed you were preoccupied with something. That must have been your cousin. Everyone okay now?” His face was inches from hers and he could see the light in her eyes and perfect shape of her face up close. He paused and replied, “Yes. Everyone is just fine. Really, really fine.”

Hangers-on began to gather a few feet away, waiting for an opportunity to intrude. But she was so cute – quick witted, very funny, an easy laugh. He could hardly pull away, but he had to. “I need to do talk to some of these people for a while. Can I see you later?” he asked, holding her hand lightly.

“Absolutely,” she said.

“Um, let’s see... In my back pocket there’s a room card. The Sheraton. 2413. I should be there by midnight. We can figure out someplace to go from there.” He wanted to be with her alone in his room, but he wanted to be a gentleman with this pretty lass, so best to act like they’d go have a drink.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon,” she said, hugging him as she cupped his ass with her hand and deftly extracted the card to conceal it in her palm. He buried her nose in her hair as they separated. That scent. She smelled as pretty as she looked. She turned, waved good bye, and walked out of the room as three blonde groupie-types shot daggers her way.

Forty five minutes later he inserted his other room card into the slot and opened the door to his hotel room. She was sitting on the couch, her gorgeous hair spread across her shoulders.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too,” she replied, standing up and running her hands down her skirt to straighten the pleats.

“Would you like to get a drink?” he asked.

“What’s in the refrigerator?” she said, walking over to the cabinet under the TV and bending over to open the door. Her ass showed through the fabric of her skirt, revealing a firm roundness and well-proportioned legs. “Let’s see what we got here. Water? Nah. Beer. Wine. Champagne?”

“Champagne?” he said, thinking of that arousing backside. “Why go anywhere else. Let’s have champagne.”

He popped the cork and filled two wine glasses he had found next to the refrigerator. She took hers and looked into his eyes with her generous cleavage rising out of her shirt, “I got to tell you, this stuff makes me crazy.”

He sighed involuntarily. She was literally breathtaking.

They sat down next to each other on the couch. “So Caitlin, what do you do?”

“I’m a singer, and I teach voice. I perform a lot around here. Please don’t think this is the only reason I came, but I brought my CD. Can I give it to you? I bet you get them all the time.”

“Sure, I’d love to hear it. No CD player here though. I have a guitar though. What do you sing?”

“I play a lot of Irish music. Some jazz standards. A few originals. Bluegrass, country, pop. Lots of stuff. I sing some Damien Dempsey too.”

He walked over to open the folding doors to the closet, pulling out the guitar case and extracting the instrument. “Okay. Sing me.”

“Oh God. Sing Damo, in front of Damo?” she said, pretending to be nervous. “Well, okay. But then you need to sing some Damo for me.”

After tuning the guitar for a minute, she started playing; and then, she sang. Where did that voice come from? This beautiful woman who practically purred when she spoke sang with a very rich, clear voice -- much like Sinead, he thought. But there was a tonal precision and fluidity that indicated years of training and dedication to the art.

She kept her eyes closed most of the time as she adroitly found the chords on the guitar. She was a captivating. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. So much emotion and genuineness. So pretty, so talented.

He applauded as she finished. “Thank you. That was very good. I really like your voice.”

You’re welcome. Thank you.” She replied modestly. Then she drank down the whole glass of champagne.

He continued: “You can sing my<b> songs </font></b>anytime. Are you signed with a label yet? You need to get signed. A pretty American girl singing Irish<b> songs </font></b>the way you do, you’d do well in Ireland with some good promotion.”

“I’m not signed. I think I will be soon. Right now I’m…” and she went on to describe her plans… He listened attentively at first. Choosing material. The process of recording. He asked some questions and gave some advice, but his mind was elsewhere. Her past didn’t really matter. He sensed that her life would be vastly different after tonight.

As she spoke he gazed at her features, and felt himself drawn into her – the essence of attractiveness. That hair -- iridescent, with hues ranging from mahogany to ebony. Those bright, wise, impishly sexy eyes. The soft side of her neck – he imagined kissing it. Her incredibly cute-pretty-beautiful face, with the supple, slightly forward lips of a singer. Those perfect breasts – full but not excessive, perfect for squeezing and sucking. That cute ass, and the smooth feminine belly peaking out below her tight fitting shirt.

She had such a nice tummy. Feminine. Smooth. So sexy - a real woman lover’s woman. He imagined dragging his tongue across that belly, planting kisses along the way.

“Whatcha looking at?” she said with a coyly-cute voice.

He was staring. “Ah, you caught me lookin’,” he said softly, extending his vowels in that north Dublin brogue. And then: “I’ve lost count of all the ways you’re beautiful.”

She closed her eyes, appearing to momentarily lose consciousness, and then sat up to regain her composure. “Thank you,” she said, with the sweetest smile he had ever seen. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“I swear you’re getting more beautiful every moment I know you.” As he said those words, he was suddenly conscious of how smitten he had become after being with this woman for less than an hour.

“My turn to sing,” he said, picking up the guitar. He strummed it a few times and fingered a quick riff to warm up. Then he started to play the first few chords of "Hold Me." He had played the song earlier with the full band, where it surged to a loud, forceful intensity. But this version was very intimate. He was singing this version just for her. (It's this song.)

He sang through the first verse with his eyes closed, tapping the emotions he was feeling in her presence. Then, as the chorus started he gazed deeply into her eyes, singing:

Hold me, closely,
And softly, sweetly, kiss,
My lips,
My lips.

She smiled demurely and focused her eyes on his lips, parting her lips slightly and sliding her tongue between her teeth. Then he sang the chorus again:

Hold me, closely,
And softly sweetly kiss,
Your lips,
Your lips.

Her eyes closed for a moment and she turned her chin slightly upward as something appeared to pass through her. When her eyes opened again her face somehow possessed a new beauty: open, vulnerable and trusting.

He sang the second verse, and said, “c’mon you sing too.” They sang the chorus together, with her voice melding with his in perfect harmony. He felt his spine tingle as their voices hit harmonic resonance -- two sounding as one. That had happened in studio when he was overdubbing his own voice, but never before with another person. He felt an unusual warmth surge through his body.

He sang the bridge, but as he started the final chorus he put down the guitar and they sang the first part over again together, a cappella. But as that last line began he reached out and cupped the side of her face in his broad hand, pulling her close to him. He sang in a whisper:

Hold me, closely,
And softly sweetly kiss,
My lips,
My lips.

And he kissed her.

Her lips were as he anticipated -- soft and generous. He used his upper lip to draw her mouth slightly open and gently traced his tongue across the top and bottom, moistening her lips, and teasing her lip ring. Her mouth opened wider. He licked the inside of her lips all the way around, and delved deeper into her mouth. Her tongue met his, and their mouths proceeded to play passionately with each other as their hands began to explore.

She reached around to feel his muscles under his shirt. He stroked her neck and shoulders, then down to touch the smoothness of her stomach and hips. She stroked his chest, and then drew circles around both of his nipples. He put his hand under her shirt as she behind to unclasp her bra and provide access to her breasts. He lifted her shirt up to see her tits for the first time, and he was awestruck. They were simply perfect. He could squeeze them, lick them, suck them…fuck them. Umm. What a beauty.

He grasped her left breast around the underside and directed it into his mouth, opening wide to suck in as much as he could. His tongue swirled and flicked her nipple, as he used his free hand to tweak and twist the nipple of her other breast. Damn he loved nipples. They’re like clits, so uniquely feminine and responsive. He alternated from one side to the other, becoming more ravenous every second. He pushed them close together, moving his head rapidly left to right so they both got the adoring attention they deserved.

He got up off the couch and positioned himself between her legs, continuing to suck her nipples. Soon he wandered down to her belly as his hands continued to knead her tits, dragging his tongue all around and probing into her bellybutton, just as he had imagined.

Then he pulled up her skirt and buried his nose into her panties, taking a long whiff of her sex. Oh my goodness. That is heaven. It was the ultimate aphrodisiac. The absolute soul of femininity. He wished he could bottle that scent and dab it under his nose every day, but right now he needed access.

Guiding her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders, he picked her up off the couch and walked over to the bed, lying her down on her back with her ass near the edge. He laid on top of her there for a while, kissing her and grinding his crotch into hers as she kept her legs wrapped tightly around him. She moved under him very well, her hips gyrating in tandem with his.

Then he stood up to take of his shirt, pants and underwear. She completed removing her shirt and bra, and then reached down to pull her skirt and panties off and up her thighs. He helped pull them the rest of the way up her calves and off her feet.

That particular view of a woman -- on her back with her legs up as she removes her clothing – was so beautiful. He kept her legs up and parted them as he kneeled down between them. She hung her knees over his shoulders and pulled his upper body towards her. He kissed her thighs, enjoying some of the most sensually arousing skin on a woman’s body, licking, nibbling, and steadily moving closer to her sex. She was hairless and smooth everywhere, including her tight little "gee." He licked the tender skin between her thigh and vulva, then up across her mons, and down the other side, slowly getting his tongue close and closer to the place he really wanted to go.

Her vagina was an oral lovers dream (and as a man who made his living using his mouth, he loved oral sex.) Her outer labia were close together, doing a lovely job of barely hiding her inner lips and clitoris. He made his tongue wide to lick swaths up one side, then the other side, then up the middle, applying more pressure each time to encourage her labia to spread apart.

Then he narrowed his tongue and pushed inward, tasting her wetness for the first time. Absolute perfection – like a fresh poured Guinness, a shot of Jameson 1780, the first sip of tea in the morning. He had never tasted anything that so completely possessed him. He delved deeper with his tongue, wishing he could immerse himself in her sweet elixir.

He pushed forward with his mouth to gain more access, and proceeded to swirl and flick his tongue up and down from her vagina to her clit. She weaved her fingers through his hair and put her thighs around his ears, grinding her sex into his mouth. She shifted her pelvis upward, directing him to fuck her with his tongue, and he complied. Probing in as far as he could reach, he made circles inside her vagina with his tongue, as his upper lip rubbed into her clit. One hand, and then the other, reached up to palm circles around her nipples.

He withdrew his tongue from her pussy and replaced it with a finger, and then two, curving them upward to massage her g-spot. Then he put his mouth over clitoris, formed the letter O with his lips, and gently sucked everything into his mouth -- being careful not to suck her hyper-sensitive clit directly. He expertly held the suction in place as he swirled and flicked his tongue around her clit. He felt her belly tense up and he heard her moan, "oh, oh...oh my fucking god...Damo! Holy fuck!..." It was getting too intense. She pushed his head away, and then steered him back in with her thighs. He obliged with strong steady licks and side to side flicks around her clit, as he continued to fuck her with his fingers.

Her breathing became more rapid and irregular. Her thighs locked around his head. His fingers felt her get even wetter. Her hips bucked up as she ground her pussy into his mouth. Her breath stopped and her whole body stiffened for a moment, then relaxed as she exhaled, then tensed up again and again and her legs shook as she let out a long moan. He widened his tongue and pressed hard into her clit and upper labia as her shaking, bucking and grinding kept her climax going for what seemed like minutes. Eventually her thighs let him go, and he looked up to see her face smiling, flushed, and glowing.

“Okay... I need you in my mouth,” she said.

She didn’t have to say it twice. He stood up and she sat up, grabbing his large hard cock and stroking the entire length of it with her hand. She pushed it flat against his abdomen and licked the underside from his ball sack to the glans, wrapping the width of her tongue around the shaft. Then, grasping the base in a firm O grip, she flicked the tip and frenulum, slowly bringing him into her mouth.

She looked up at him, smiling as best she could with a cock in her mouth, and wrapped her lips around him, suddenly sinking the top five inches of his cock into the wet warmth of her mouth. She was an incredibly talented cocksucker, providing a nice steady suction as her head bobbed up and down, with her tongue inside applying constant intensely pleasurable contact to the underside of his penis. She gripped one of her hands around the base and pumped it up and down in sequence with her mouth.

After several minutes of sucking his cock, licking his balls, and stroking him with her hands, she pulled away and rubbed the tip of his cock around her nipple, milking out precum for lubrication. Looking into his eyes, she dipped his cock into her mouth, slathered it up with spit, and pulled his hips towards her chest to position his cock between her breasts. She took both of her hands and pushed her breasts together, ensconcing his penis in her warm, tight cleavage. He began to fuck her tits. Whenever he thrust upward as far as he could, she would flick the end of his dick with her tongue. Occasionally she would free him completely and bring him into her mouth again to re-lubricate him with her saliva. It felt exquisite.

She released her tit-grip and laid back on the bed. "I'm going to fuck you now, Caitlin," he said. "Oh, please do" she said, using her feet, and then her legs, to pull him into her. He grasped her knees and lifted her legs to push her thighs towards her chest, exposing her smooth sex in an almost horizontal position. Then he angled his hard cock down to fuck the wet furrow of her vulva, sliding his length up and down, almost entering her each time.

He stopped with the tip of his cock right at her entrance, poking just the first inch in and then withdrawing. In, and out. In and out. Just a little bit more each time, until the head was all the way inside, and then the first inch of the shaft, pushing in, and then pulling out. Teasing her.

Finally he thrust in as far as he could, feeling the smoothly textured contours of her tight vagina making room for his length and girth. He stayed in place for a moment, giving her a chance to relax and prepare for her fucking.

Slowly he began to thrust in and out with long, strong strokes, feeling her wet vagina grip every centimeter of him. She was so snug. It felt like a wet warm glove inside. He settled into a steady, predictable rhythm of long, strong, deep thrusts that first hit her G spot and then way inside to stimulate the back of her vagina around her cervix. Her hips were rising to meet his thrusts, maximizing genital contact as his balls slapped her ass. She was incredibly arousing. It was hard not to climax just looking at her pretty face -- her eyes closed, sighing slightly with each of his thrusts.

“Get on top of me,” he said, lying down on the bed next to her. She turned over to sit up and straddle him, rubbing her wetness along the length of his cock. She reached down to direct him into her, slowly sitting all the way down on his cock. She began to rise up and down, wiggling slightly with each down stroke to emphasize different places inside.

Leaning forward, she put her hands on his chest and began to fuck him hard, smooshing her clit into his pubic bone as she ground down on his cock. He reached up to hold her bouncing breasts steady as she fucked him, tugging and twisting her nipples.

She folded herself forward so that his cock was bent slightly inside of her, and then began to bounce her ass up and down rapidly, milking him with her pussy. She paused for a moment and he grabbed both of her hips, holding them in place as he thrust upward in a rapid-fire motion, pounding steadily for what seemed like minutes.

When he finally stopped she collapsed for a moment on his chest, momentarily overcome by the intensity. But in a few seconds she sat up and began to fuck him hard again, smiling playfully as she pounded down on his cock.

Soon she leaned slightly forward and placed her hands on his chest again, grinding her clit into his pubic bone as she jerked back and forth, her eyes closed tightly in concentration. She seemed close to another orgasm. He arched his pelvis to extend as much of his cock as possible way up inside of her. After a few extremely strong gyrations she stopped in mid-grind and jerked her hips involuntarily as she gasped for more breath. A look of blissful release seemed to occur, as a long “uhhhhhhh” escaped her lips. She stayed in one place as he felt her vaginal muscles contract spasmodically around his cock. “Oh...oh, yes…damn, that's... that's nice,” she said, with her eyes closed.

She fell on top of him and he stayed inside, moving in slow thrusts. They kissed passionately for a few minutes, and then she separated from him and crawled onto the bedspread, staying on all fours as her lovely ass beckoned. He stood up and guided her knees close to the edge of he bed so he could stand up and really fuck her with gusto.

He rubbed the tip of his cock up and down her labia and then entered her, thrusting deeply. He reached down and around to squeeze her breasts, and then gripped the bend of her hips, pulling her back onto him as he thrust inside -- feeling her outer labia spread around the base of his cock.

He could have orgasmed long ago if he had let himself, but now he decided it was time to let go. After such amazing sex he knew his climax would be earth shaking. He concentrated on the way her pubic bone was milking the sensitive underside of his penis with each thrust.

“Sweetie, it’s time for me to cum,” he said. He pulled out and stroked his cock with his hand, “I’d love to shoot this onto your tits.”

She turned over and lied back on the bed, gathering her breasts in her hands and pushing them together. He straddled her waist and pushed his cock down to fuck her cleavage as his hand pumped the base of his shaft. He thrust hard, feeling the semen welling up inside of him.

He felt the first contraction coming and flexed the muscles around his cock to shoot the load out with as much force as possible. That dollop hit the underside of her chin. He continued to slide his cock between her breasts as the contractions kept cumming, depositing more semen onto her neck, chest and breasts. He had never had an orgasm that had been so intense and had lasted nearly as long.

He leaned forward and put the tip of his cock near her mouth. She took it in her hand, pumping the last pearly drops onto her chest. Then she tilted her head up and sucked his glans into her mouth, flicking the underside with her tongue, looking up at him. “My God, Damo,” she said, “You’re incredible. That was amazing.” He blushed slightly and said "so are you, Caitin."

He awoke the next morning lying on his back, with her by his side wrapped around him. One of her legs was stretched over his hips, where it was constraining a nice example of hard morning wood. He glanced at the clock radio. Ten o’clock. He needed to be on the bus by twelve thirty.

He looked at her gorgeous face, just as beautiful in the light coming through the windows as it was last night. He had slept with other women while on tour, but he ached at the thought of leaving Caitlin today and perhaps never seeing her again. She was so pretty. Such a rare talent. Such a beautiful voice…They had harmonized so well. Would she consider joining his band to sing backup for the rest of the tour? She knew all his music already. She wouldn’t just leave her life here in Seattle and meet him in Vancouver tomorrow would she? At least he could ask.

She began to emerge from sleep next to him, nuzzling the side of his chest and rubbing her leg on his hard cock. Breakfast would have to wait.

###

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