Mifuel

The neon lights of the venue lit up the stage, Dead as Disco's music resonating through the music hall. The strings of Dex's guitar played at lightening speed, Hemlock practically abused his bass, the harmony between Prophet's deep rap and Arora's popish vocals. None of that mattered, however, as the the beat from behind them all hit you. He was adorned in glitter, azure eyes peeking out from behind his glasses, hair so imperfectly perfect in a way you couldn't begin to try and describe. Charlie Disco. You looked up to him, he was the reason you yourself picked up the sticks and learned to create a beat. You could only wish to gain whatever gave him his impeccable sense of rhythm.

You were pulled out of your trance as the song came to the end, the last song of the night unfortunately. The band said their final goodbyes from the stage before they disappeared behind the curtains. You had stayed behind a bit longer to discuss the performance with other likeminded fans before making your way to the bar.

You went to order but someone else beat you to the bartender's attention. "Two nightcaps, one for me and another for the lady," an familiar unfamiliar voice came from behind you. You turned your head to face the man who slid up into the stool next to you. "I've seen you at a few of our gigs, what makes a belle like you so interested in Dead as Disco?" None other than Charlie himself. You stammered your greetings to the infamous drummer out, mentally cursing yourself. "No need to be so nervous, hun. I've seen some of your performances myself, you're a beast on the drums," his praises making your ears burn from both pride and embarrassment, maybe something else you won't admit to yourself in the presence of the musician you looked up to. Your drinks came out after that, just the (liquid) courage you needed at that moment. The taste of bourbon gracing your tongue.

Your nerves calmed the longer the night went on and the more alcohol the two of you drank. Soon enough, your stools were up against each other and the heat between you two could be felt by anyone who could see. "The night is still young," Charlie stood up off his stool and offered you his hand, "Would you bless me by letting me take you back to my place?" Your response? "I would rather sell myself to Harmony before saying no."

The ride to his apartment was a blur, the adrenaline and anticipation drowning the rest of the world out. But much to your dismay, things were not heated the second you stepped in. He poured two glasses of wine and brought you over to his couch where he turned a cheesy rom com on. Whatever, you can wait. You made yourself comfortable next to him as you sipped on your wine. "You never answered my question from earlier," Charlie asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked up towards him and pulled those iconic glasses off his face, "I saw this amazing drummer lost in the music one day while out with my friends, I needed a new sound after my favorites sold out. That new sound was Dead as Disco." Your hand set the sunglasses down on the coffee table along with your wine glass. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the adrenaline, maybe it was some divine being sent to take over your body, but you turned around and sat down facing the drummer, your legs straddling his hips. "I was entranced by you, your looks, your rhythm, your words printed in all those magazines. I wanted to follow your footsteps, I learned to create a beat, how to play, and used your performances as a guideline. I was hoping you could teach me even more." You punctuated your last sentence with a roll of your hips, grinding yourself down onto his rapidly hardening erection. A small grunt escaped from Charlie's lips as he looked up towards you, "What would you like to learn, pretty girl?" "How you use your drumstick to draw out a song." Charlie laughed softly and rested his head against your shoulder, "Y'know... you're making it real hard to be a gentleman." You lifted him by his chin to look at you, "Then don't be a gentleman, Charlie Disco."

In a split second, his lips were on yours, a sigh releasing from both of you. HIs hands had a death grip on your hips, grinding you against his, now, fully hardened member. Your hands tangled into his hair as you deepened the kiss, your tongues now fighting for dominance. After a few minutes, he flipped your positions, laying you down on the couch. His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, his hands roaming against the skin beneath your shirt. You moved to push the jacket off of the man, but was stopped before you could. "Patience is a virtue, hun," although his actions did match his words as he shrugged the jacket and pull the black shirt off, both being thrown off somewhere where you quite frankly did not care. It didn't take long for you to do the same and Charlie to continue his assault on your neck, marks being left behind that are going to be a problem for tomorrow you to deal with.

Everything felt like a blur, you were now in Charlie's room, kneeling in front of him with his cock nestled in your mouth. His fingers intertwined with your hair, keeping you in place as he thrusted in and out of your mouth. Spit spilled from the corners of your mouth and tears fell from your eyes. Your nails raked against Charlie's thighs trying to ground yourself. He twitched in your mouth, nearing closer to finishing, but he pulled you off before he could. You inhaled deeply as he pulled you up and into a kiss. He guided you onto the bed, air being knocked out of of you as your back hit the bed. He kneeled down and kissed along your inner thighs. A trail of bites left behind on his way to your core. His breath fanned against your core, that damn smirk of his driving you wild. "Charlie fucking Disco, if you don't stop teasing I wi-" He cut you off with a languid swipe of of his tongue against you, a moan torn out of you. He was slow, delibrate, teasing. He drove you wild as his tongue circled your clit. He held your hips down as you writhed in pleasure. He made you scream out in pleasure when he finally made it to your entrance. You could feel the pleasure building the longer it went on. This pressure was short lived as he brought himself back up to kiss you once more, the taste of yourself gracing your tongue. He pulled away, opening a drawer and pulling out a condom. "I need to know you want this before I go any further, please..." You giggled at the respectful question, a man who needs consent. "Get over here and fuck me, Disco." And with that he ripped the condom open, with his teeth of course. You couldn't help yourself as you helped him roll it onto his shaft. You leaned back as he lined himself up, slowly pushing in and allowing you to adjust to his size. Moans spilled from you as he bottomed out, Charlie grunting along with you. After letting you adjust, he began to set a brutal rhythm. The singing of your moans and the beat of skin slapping against each other filled the room with your song of sex. The coil in your stomach was slowly reaching the apex of the song, teetering along the beat drop. "Sing for me pretty girl," Charlie had leaned down to whisper in your ear as his thumb had began drawing circles around your clit. You screamed out Charlie's name like a mantra, your praises and claims of closeness building the bridge of your song. With a slight shift of his hips, the head of Charlie's cock began hitting that sweet spot, downright abusing it. It wasn't long before your bridge ended and your orgasm washed over you. Charlie followed after you soon after, spilling out into the condom.