The first time Kevin Roach was mistaken for Tommy Ross he was in the White Lion. The mistake’s maker approached him when he was at the bar, getting in a round of drinks for himself and his workmates. She had bobbed red hair and neat, pretty features and she wore a T-shirt displaying her allegiance to the rock band White Noise.
‘Sorry to bother you,’ the newcomer said, as she materialized at Kevin’s elbow, her head inclined coquettishly to one side, ‘but my friends won’t shut up unless I settle it once and for all.’ Over her shoulder Kevin could see a garrulous party of girls staring over at him, heads bobbing in fascination. He sincerely hoped he could ‘settle it’ to everyone’s satisfaction, particularly that of the attractive young woman currently addressing him. ‘You’re Tommy Ross, right?’ There was a giddy excitement in the way she said it, an expectant gaze that willed him to respond in the affirmative. She looked ready to dissolve in liquid admiration.
Kevin wanted very much to be Tommy Ross at that moment, even though he had no idea who that individual might be. He faltered an instant, then undaunted by its lousy track record, fixed her with his most charming smile. ‘Can’t say I am – but I’m willing to be him for the night…’
The red-head’s smile faded and the excitement seemed to drain from her like a plug had been pulled. ‘You’re really not him then?’
‘Eh – no.’ Kevin’s burst of confidence departed, presumably to the same place as the girl’s interest. ‘Haven’t actually heard of him… Ehh…Who is he?’
‘Doesn’t matter. Sorry.’ And she faded off to her tableful of friends, before Kevin could summon anything further to say.
‘Nice one, Kev, what’s your secret?’ said Big Dave, as Kevin lowered a tray of brimming pint glasses on to the table. The rest of the boys roared with hilarity at their friend’s quip. ‘I mean, she looked like she was ready to shag you on the bar and you managed to get shot of her with your first line! What did you tell her you’d caught?’ The whole table creased with renewed laughter.
Kevin slumped into his chair, trying to mask how gutted he felt with a self-mocking grin. ‘Fuck off, Dave, and drink your pint.’ Over at the other table the rowdy girls no longer gave him a glance.
He broached the subject of his humiliating encounter the next day, when seated with Phil Bradley, behind the check-out at Dr Lovegood’s Funtime Adult Emporium. ‘Who’s Tommy Ross?’
‘Hmmm?’ Phil looked up from the twelve-inch, gel-filled, coarse-textured, strap-on dildo he had been pricing. ‘Tommy Ross – he’s the drummer with Neanderthal. Why?’
Kevin narrated the whole sorry tale, his irritation increasing as he did so. ‘So,’ he concluded, ‘ do I really look like this Tommy Ross guy?’
Phil set down the pricing gun and gave his friend an appraising stare. ‘Well – your hair’s longer these days and you’ve filled out a bit since you’ve been working on the site…’ He laughed as if in sudden recognition. ‘Shit, Kevin – I’d never thought about it, but – she’s right, you could really fucking pass for him!’
Kevin felt even more pissed off at this news. ‘So wait a second – This girl obviously wouldn’t look twice at me, even on a good night. But she thinks I’m this Tommy Ross bloke and instantly she’s set to rip my trousers off! What’s that all about?’
‘Kev, mate,’ said Phil, with Jedi-like sagacity, ‘he’s a rock drummer. If he looked like me, women would still want to shag him.’ Kevin glanced at his fellow university drop-out unconvinced; Phil was lank-haired and slope-shouldered, and his Metallica T-shirt did nothing to disguise his paunchy stomach. Phil, however, seemed confident in his theory, referring Kevin to one of the DVDs piled close by on the counter. It was entitled Brett Hardwood – International Fucker of Sluts and showed the eponymous, grinning porn stud amongst a cluster of gorgeous, naked starlets. ‘Trust me,’ Phil insisted, ‘if you were Tommy Ross, you’d get laid more than this guy – only none of the girls would expect to get paid afterwards. That, my friend, is the power of Rock.’ He handed over the DVD as an afterthought. ‘You want to borrow this?’
‘Sure,’ Kevin replied sourly. ‘I mean it’s the best deal I’ve got, right? Not being Tommy fucking Ross…’
He left Phil’s workplace with the Brett Hardwood movie, but ended up paying it scant attention that night. On his way home he had walked impulsively into a music store and bought himself a DVD copy of Neanderthal – Live in Concert. Alone in his bed-sit he watched the band in grim fascination, paying special attention to his supposed doppelganger at the back of the stage. Yes, amazingly he could see it. Tommy was around the same age as him (younger than the other band members, having replaced original drummer Reggie Stokes some few years ago – so Phil had informed him); same average build, same shoulder-length, wavy, blond hair, same bony features. No more prepossessing than most guys you would meet down the pub of a weeknight. Both of them ordinary London lads, yet there was Tommy, thrashing the skins in an apoplectic fury before ten thousand Los Angelino rock fans, drawing roars of approval from the crowd every time he delivered some virtuoso piece of drumming. Kevin could hear the shrieks of female adulation soaring above the rest of the noise every time Tommy beat out a solo or hurled a pair of drumsticks into the churning mob. Occasionally the camera would pan over the mass of crazed young women who thronged before the stage, their mouths all but frothing in their excitement. Didn’t they just love their rock stars? Didn’t they just love Tommy?
Within days Kevin’s brooding interest in Neanderthal had developed into fully-fledged mania. He ate up every scrap of information and gossip he could find in the music and celebrity papers about the band and its drummer, for whom he was, it had transpired, such a ringer. All he read backed up Phil’s suggestion – Tommy and his fellow rockers had sex handed to them on a plate and they never refused seconds. He purchased Jackhammer and Leather and Latex, Neanderthal’s two most recent albums, to see whether some spark of musical genius was the secret to the band members’ desirability. All he heard was a run-of-the-mill group of rock musicians, pumping out songs with titles such as Blood Sacrifice and Angel of Lust. No clues there then.
One night he sat down with some beers to watch a salacious rock profiles show on cable and saw Neanderthal rated no.3 in a list of The World’s Wildest Rock Bands. Former roadies of the group described their role in picking out the band’s choice of girl-fans at concerts and presenting them with backstage passes. Tommy’s favourites, it was explained, were handed out black leather wrist bands such as the drummer wore himself. Any girl who sported said wrist band backstage was declaring herself his property for the rest of the night. ‘Yeah,’ one hairy leather-clad ex-roadie reminisced, ‘Tommy’ll take three, four… I’ve seen him take as many as five girls back to his room at the same time. I saw inside his room one night… He was in the shower with two girls, he had another two oiled up and playing naked Twister on his bed.’ Tommy’s painfully non-famous look-alike stared at the television screen askance, caught between arousal at the vividly described scenario and indignation that it wasn’t him co-ordinating the hotel room games.
Kevin knew he was the right side of average-looking, his wiry frame bulked up somewhat from his recent labours on construction sites. He was fairly intelligent – could have completed his studies if he’d had the motivation at the time. He was even witty, at least when there was no sex at stake. Tommy Ross was no better-looking – was he intelligent or witty? The only time Kevin had ever heard him speak was on the DVD, when he had regaled the crowd, returning on stage for the encore: ‘ROCK AND FUCKIN’ ROLLLLLLL!!!’ And yet there Tommy was, indulging all his sexual cravings night after crazy night, as if in some deranged parallel version of Kevin’s existence.
Kevin sank back into his armchair in glum resignation. ‘God, I should have learnt to play drums,’ he said, and cracked open another can.
Neanderthal played the Hammersmith Apollo two months later and Kevin bought himself a ticket. He queued from mid-afternoon, so he could get near the front of the stage and observe the Tommy Ross effect close up. There was a fervency about the crowd long before the main act arrived on stage. Then the great store of potential energy erupted into an almighty worshipful roar, as the members of Neanderthal strode cockily into their arena to address the faithful in blasting power chords and screaming vocals. And there, pointing triumphantly to the skies with his drumsticks, was Kevin’s supposed twin – a lanky sex idol in scabby jeans and a washed-out T-shirt. Screams of female excitement sailed above the cries of the young male fans, as the boys launched into some barnstorming opening number, apparently entitled Rock Addict.
Kevin was an island of awed silence throughout the concert – not because of any great musical originality on the part of the band, but from the grip they somehow exerted on their legion of followers. The initial fervour dropped away somewhat, but the band kept their audience simmering, turning up the heat at intervals, then finally pushing them beyond boiling-point to a full-on orgiastic fury, with Dave Styx howling out Give it Up to Daddy, their hit from the recent Leather…album. Tonight I’ll make you rock and roll, Caress your body and thrill your soul. Give it up girl, give it all up to Daddy.
Tommy Ross tore into his longest, most frantic solo of the evening, punishing the drums like it was a vendetta, before the others powered in again, driving the song to its demented conclusion. As the crowd roared its wild approval, the drummer stood up on his podium, threw down his sticks and ripped his T-shirt in tattered pieces from his torso; then he punched the air with both fists in a moment of bare-chested, alpha-male glory.
Kevin could almost smell the oestrogen. There was not a women there, he thought, who would not prostrate herself before Tommy and his fellow rockers as a sexual plaything, who would not open herself up to their crazed rock and roll lust, even if she had shown up with her boyfriend. The whole thing was like an ecstatic religious experience, with the members of Neanderthal as debauched high priests.
During the hiatus before the encore Kevin saw it; at either side of the stage a selection of young women, the chosen few, were being helped out of the crowd and bustled behind the scenes by the band’s burly, leather-clad henchmen. So Phil and the documentary-makers had not been lying – these guys really could fuck whoever the hell they wanted…
The post-concert trek from the venue was a poignant affair for Kevin. Several times some girl in the departing throng would double-take as she drew close to him – he had noticed the same thing on the way in – and he would hold her gaze, hoping that some of the concert’s rock-alchemy would rub off on him. Each time, however, the girl in question would turn away, as soon as soon as she worked out he could not be the guy she had seen on stage. No substitutes accepted – you had to be a bona fide rocker to claim pussy that easily. Kevin had witnessed the Neanderthal boys work their sorcery first hand and at last was morosely satisfied; this was just the way things were. He thought wistfully of Tommy Ross and his pals, cosying up on the tour bus to the gaggle of females plucked from the crowd, headed for a cheerful night of sexual excess back at their hotel. And as he made his solitary way to his apartment, he could scarcely begrudge them.
One night later Kevin sat in Duke’s bar, supping a pint of ale, while awaiting the arrival of Big Dave and the rest of the lads from the construction site. Drink and an evening’s crude banter with the guys – mundane pleasures, to be sure, but at least they were easily attainable, with no disappointment, no near-despair attached… He was peering over his raised glass when he noticed the two girls looking at him, heads bowed together over their table in animated conference. Kevin had received enough similar glances of recent weeks to guess beyond much doubt what they were debating. And one girl, he noticed with a start, was wearing a confirmatory ‘Leather and Latex Tour’ T-shirt. The corners of their mouths were curling into smiles of recognition, as they noticed him looking back.
If Kevin had thought about it even for a moment, he would not have done it. If the girls had approached him, he would have had time to bottle out just like in the White Lion. It was instinctive and gave no thought to consequence. Holding the smile that had formed on his lips, he rose from his chair and walked boldly over to the other table. The girls were both lighting up like hundred watt bulbs as he approached.
‘So you enjoyed the concert last night, girls?’ he asked in a good- humoured tone that sounded like somebody else’s voice. They laughed aloud, eyes wide with astonishment, the T-shirt girl putting both hands to her face in her disbelief. ‘You know I think I saw you both out there – you were down near the front, right?’
Oh God, what am I doing? What the suffering FUCK am I doing? He was grinning at the girls cheerfully, even as the voice screamed within his head and his heart doubled its speed. Having dived in, what could he do but swim? ‘Mind if I join you?’
‘No, no, please! Pull up a chair!’ the non-T-shirt-wearer exclaimed, as if appalled by her own rudeness. She was wearing a wine-coloured velvet waistcoat over a flouncy white shirt. The girls looked strikingly similar, Kevin noticed as he sat down, daintily built, with blonde, shoulder-length hair, although the more obvious Neanderthal fan had hers tied back in a ponytail. They had the same pretty elegance about their faces, the same marine-blue eyes, high cheek bones and gleaming white smiles. ‘I’m Cathy and this is Tamsin.’
‘Pleased to meet you.’ Kevin hoped the trembling he felt was imperceptible to the girls, as he shook their hands. ‘I’m Tommy.’ Oh shit. Oh most holy shit. There’s no going back now.
‘Yeah,’ Cathy grinned, her voice full of the same panting excitement the anonymous girl had displayed all those weeks before. ‘We know.’
Beside her Tamsin was giddy with awe. ‘You guys were fabulous last night. I mean, you were really…fabulous!’
‘You fucking rocked,’ said Cathy, eyeing him hungrily.
‘Well, you know…’ Kevin sat back in his chair, assuming what he felt was a nonchalant rock-star attitude. ‘The London gig is always a bit of a homecoming. You were a great crowd.’ Every time he found something appropriate to say seemed like a reprieve from inevitable discovery.
‘Oh, and I bought a T-shirt as well,’ Cathy put in quickly, indicating Tamsin. ‘It’s just we don’t like to go out in identical stuff.’
‘She’s lying, I’m just a bigger fan,’ Tamsin said cheekily, as if finally overcoming her star-struck wonder, and both girls burst into gales of mirth.
‘You bitch!’ Cathy grabbed Kevin’s surprised hand, so that his arousal began to gain ground once more on his galloping fear. ‘I was the one who bought your new album, not her. We’re twins, you see, but we don’t like to draw attention to it. Well not always…’ She darted a distinctly sly glance at her sister, who smirked in knowing response.
‘Twins?’ The word was out of Kevin’s mouth before he knew it.
‘Not identical,’ Tamsin explained. ‘Obviously.’
‘No. And I popped out twenty minutes before her,’ said Cathy. ‘I’m the older more experienced one.’ She held on to Kevin’s hand as she said it and stared him straight in the eye. He struggled to hold back an involuntary gulp.
Tamsin leaned closer across the table, not to be outdone, her chin perched on her clasped hands. ‘And I’m the wild and crazy younger one. Hey,’ she said, apparently struck by a new thought, ‘how come you’re here tonight? Shouldn’t you be playing up in Manchester?’
Kevin had been trying to take on board the twin-scenario and her question caught him off-guard. Of course Neanderthal were gigging again that night – and any denying it would be flatly contradicted by the tour dates on the back of Tamsin’s T-shirt. ‘Ehhh – yeah, yeah we were, the Manchester gig’s been cancelled.’ The girls looked surprised. ‘Yeah – old Styxy bust his hand and couldn’t play guitar. He was – eh…’ A saving flash of inspiration came out of nowhere. ‘Well to be honest he was trying something a bit acrobatic during the after-show party, if you get my meaning. With some new friend of his. But that’s just between ourselves, right?’ They laughed aloud, delighted at his cheekily improvised revelation, and he flashed them a winning rock-star grin in response. Well fielded, that man! These girls really buy it!
‘So how come we weren’t invited backstage?’ asked Tamsin, with an aggrieved pout. ‘Cathy and I would have livened up whatever little party you were having.’ She smiled with mischievous radiance and her sister beside her arched a wicked eyebrow.
‘I’ll bet you would,’ Kevin responded in a near-croak, before rallying. ‘You mustn’t have received the wristbands I sent.’
‘Yeah, we missed those,’ said Cathy, grinning at him cheekily. ‘Your loss, baby.’ But her assumed cockiness gave way as soon as she’d said it and she broke into girlish laughter in the face of her rock hero, eyeing Kevin as if the loss were very much her own.
Kevin seized his opportunity. Tommy would never bottle out at this point, of that much he was sure. ‘Maybe I can have the pleasure of your company tonight. You can show me what I missed.’ Putting words to the thought both terrified and thrilled him. Even as he spoke, the practicalities rolled in on him. Exactly where was this going to happen? He was hardly going to invite himself back to theirs. And what did he know about taking on two women at the same time? Oh yes, all wonderful in theory, but…
‘You ready for us both?’ Tamsin asked, snuggling up against her sister and smirking cutely. ‘We’re quite a team.’
‘Oh I’m sure Tommy’s more than equal to the task,’ said Cathy, a touch breathlessly. ‘I imagine he and the guys are used to entertaining more than two at a time…’
The guys…Shit, the guys from his work, it was a wonder none of them had arrived already! Kevin’s eyes flicked to the entrance and back in a rush of paranoia. All it would take was for Big Dave or one of the others to plough their way into the conversation and his newly adopted persona would be instantly revealed as fraudulent. Scorn from Cathy and Tamsin, then gleeful derision from the boys, derision that would last as long as he worked with them. He had to extricate himself, fast. If he managed to keep the girls on board, so much the better…
‘Look ladies,’ he said, endeavouring under intense pressure not to blow his Tommy Ross cool, ‘I’d love to entertain you both right now, but I may have to wait till later in the evening…’ Tamsin looked crestfallen, Cathy somewhat sulky; they obviously both thought they were being brushed off. ‘No, really – I want to meet up,’ Kevin insisted, then tried to modify the desperation that had crept into his voice. ‘It’s just I’ve got to meet up with the tour manager – George -‘ George? ‘- at the hotel. You really think I’d pass on your company? Look – write a mobile number here.’ He slid an upturned beer mat across the table to Cathy and looked on, inwardly urging her to be quick, as she scribbled down a sequence of digits.
‘You’d better call,’ she smiled ruefully, as she passed back the cardboard disc.
‘Trust me, I will.’ He downed the rest of his pint in an effort to look casual, then he grabbed the beer mat and was on his feet. ‘Give me till ten, then I’ll call you with my room number. And you two’d better not bail on me…’
‘What hotel are you staying at?’ asked Tamsin, as he made to leave.
‘It’s – ‘ Kevin could feel his eyes glazing over. He had no clue as to where might have a suitable room free. ‘Christ, you know I was so hazy this morning I can’t remember? It was a really heavy night last night. I even left the key at reception ‘cos I was sure I’d lose it. Look, I’ll have to call George for details. But I will let you know… Keep that phone on!’ They stared at him dubiously, but he just flashed them what he hoped was a reassuring grin, then turned and wove a rapid path to the door. He had only just left the pub, when he ran into Big Dave and Marvin, who were heading purposefully inside.
‘Kev, where you goin’ mate?’ Dave exclaimed. ‘You’re getting the first round in…’
‘No can do, Dave – not tonight. Just got a call… Serious shit…Really serious…Death in the family. Yup. I’ll – I’ll see you.’ And he ran, feeling suddenly liberated by his close escape. The deities of Rock were surely smiling on him that night. He could decide who had died by Monday morning. Right now he had everything else to sort out.
Everything else…Holy shit, like finding a hotel room (make that a hotel suite), like passing it off as Tommy’s, like stopping being Kevin bloody Roach for the whole fucking night! How exactly was he going to pull this off? Right, okay Kev, don’t panic. What’s to be done? Stop off home, pick up some stuff – sort out the hotel on the way. Was Phil working that evening? Kevin thought so – yes, he’d call in at the Emporium en route – good call. Pick up some special supplies – very Tommy Ross. But it all had to be done quickly, no room for pissing about… He looked around the High Street in barely contained desperation.
‘Taxi!’
The driver was glad to ferry Kevin around his various stops, leaving the meter running each time his passenger dashed briefly outside on an errand. He could occasionally be seen to raise an eyebrow, as Kevin phoned round a selection of up-market hotels, trying to book a suite – becoming more agitated each time he learned none were free. Finally the Astoria delivered and he hardly flinched as the receptionist mentioned the price. Hell, he felt positively cavalier as he read out the number on his one credit card. If it took three months to pay off the bill, what price one night as a hero of Rock?
He tore into his apartment and searched frantically amongst the chaos for what few items might befit his new persona. A battered old leather jacket, a couple of T-shirts (one plain white, the other bearing the legend ‘I am not a number, I am a free man’), some scuffed denim similar to what he was currently wearing and a few toiletries. Yup, that’d do. Tommy would travel light – the rest of his stuff back on the tour bus. He stuffed everything into a rucksack, rushed back to the cab and rattled off directions to his local Off Licence. Once there he sweated in a dawdling queue, so he could procure a bottle of Glenfiddich single malt. For display purposes only; Kevin had not sunk half a dozen whiskey shots in his life, but he had read that it was Tommy Ross’s favourite tipple. Those all-important little touches…
Next stop Dr Lovegood’s, where Phil was slouched in his usual position behind the till, perusing a spanking-themed publication entitled Hot Cross Buns. Phil sensed Kevin’s urgency the instant he saw him; he was already hauling himself out of his stupor as Kevin fired out the details. ‘Two girls, sisters – twins! They think I’m Tommy Ross – I’ve let them think it! I’m going to meet them at the Astoria at ten. Phil, I need some stuff!’
Phil gave him a level stare, appeared to decide that his friend was not possessed by some sad delusion and leapt into uncharacteristically dynamic action. He vanished for a moment out the back of the shop and returned, arms laden with an assortment of erotic ware. ‘Okay,’ he said, dumping it all on the counter. ‘Most of this is old stock, but it’ll all be in good shape. Take these, I’d say you’ll definitely want this, we’ll throw in a couple of those – apparently women love the texture – a bottle of this and… I still haven’t worked out what that does, but maybe you can let me know tomorrow.’ Kevin’s eyes goggled at the imaginative array of sexual accessories before him, his mind reeling with the uses to which they might later be put. ‘Oh yes,’ added Phil, feeling about a under the counter, and it’s batteries not included, so take these.’ He pressed a selection of batteries into Kevin’s slightly shaking hands. ‘I keep them for in-store demos.’
Kevin stared at his friend mutely for a moment, then he thanked him sincerely and set about cramming all the items into his rucksack. As he turned to go Phil placed a hand on his shoulder and held him with a level stare. Kevin gazed back at his ungainly, sallow-faced friend, a man who would surely never have similar good fortune within his grasp. ‘Kev,’ Phil said weightily, ‘don’t dare fuck this up. Get out there and live the dream.’
The Astoria Hotel’s Livingstone Suite was suitable backdrop for living the dream, Kevin thought, as he fell on to the king-size bed and finally caught his breath. The chandelier was possibly a little over the top, but then so was Rock and Roll. Spare items of clothing he had rumpled and scattered casually about the place to give it a lived-in feel; all left to do was phone the girls and see if the charm of early evening held good. They’ve worked it out by now, there’s no way they haven’t rumbled me! The determination that had fuelled his efforts was giving way to a familiar sense of pessimism, even as he keyed in the number…
‘Well hello there Mr Rock Star. We’d almost given up on you!’ Cathy hadn’t missed a beat before answering. Her voice was soaked in delight at his call. In the background Kevin could hear Tamsin giggling gleefully. ‘So then Tommy, what’s the plan?’
The plan consisted of exchanging room number for estimated time of arrival. Beyond that and Phil’s bag of tricks Kevin had not given the details of the encounter any real thought. A single moment’s elation on clicking off the phone was succeeded by a fresh wave of panic. What the hell did he know about entertaining two women for an evening Tommy Ross-style? What to say, what to put where and in what order? The urge suddenly came upon him to flee the scene of what would surely be his humiliation. He resisted and cracked the seal on the whiskey bottle instead, pouring a generous measure into a glass tumbler and throwing it back in one. He hardly noticed the sour taste, struggling as he was to bring his runaway heart rate back under control. He could almost hear Tommy Ross laughing at his plight. But no – that wasn’t right. Tommy had grown up on the same East End streets as Kevin. He would understand! He’d be cheering him on now, encouraging him to seize control of the situation. Go on my son – give those girls what they’re looking for and then some. Let them know they’ve been with a rock star! There was no doubt about it – Tommy would be on his side.
‘Come on!’ Kevin exhorted himself, rising and pacing the room, every two-girl porno fantasy he had ever viewed flashing across his mind. ‘Do this thing! Fucking do it!’ His cock was already growing hard in his trousers, as he mentally charged himself . He ordered an absurdly expensive bottle of champagne from room service and unpacked Phil’s supply of sex toys as he waited for it to arrive, concealing the exotic devices discretely in a drawer. Then as the champagne chilled, he sat on the edge of the bed, waited and focused. Tommy Ross and the Spirit of Rock were with him. They admired his daring and he would not let them down. By the time the soft knock finally sounded, Kevin’s heart leapt with excitement as well as fear. He was calm as he walked to the door, betrayed no nervousness as he swung it open. ‘Good evening ladies…’
Cathy and Tamsin flowed into the room, all perfumed skin and wild flirtation. They pressed newly glossed lips to Kevin’s mouth, then gazed around the suite, all but swooning over the lavish surroundings in which they found the Neanderthal drummer. Tamsin flung herself squealing on to the King Size, while Cathy moved through the room in a sort of trance, checking walk-in closet, cocktail bar, wet-room… ‘Wow,’ she said, reappearing from the bathroom, ‘ you boys really live the lifestyle!’
‘Well you kind of have to, there’s an image to keep up,’ Kevin smiled nonchalantly. He was already prising the cork off the bottle of Moet Chandon. Momentum, that’s what was needed, momentum… The cork popped violently out of the bottle, knocking out a piece of plaster cornice on impact with the wall; champagne flowed extravagantly over the carpet, before Kevin managed to divert some into the three waiting glasses.
Tamsin and Cathy were both delighted at the display, the former kicking her heels from where she sat on the bed. ‘Well that’s got to be a good sign,’ she smirked, as Kevin passed out the champagne flutes and joined her on the bed. Cathy nestled in on his other side.
‘Here’s to further cork-popping before the evening’s done,’ he grinned, starting to feel positively cheery as Cathy chinked his glass, giving him a precipitous view down her tanned cleavage as she did so.
‘And here’s to Kevin Roach,’ added Tamsin, bringing her glass to the other two. The ice formed instantly in Kevin’s veins. ‘So is that what you always do?’
‘Huh?’ He could feel his grin freezing into a dreadful rictus of horror.
‘Choose the dorkiest name you can think of when you check into a hotel?’
Shit! Christ! He had actually let it slip his mind, the explanation he had given them over the phone for his booking name. Kevin almost laughed aloud with relief. ‘Steady,’ he said chidingly to Tamsin. ‘Kevin Roach is a cousin of mine as it happens – he’s very charming and likeable as dorks go.’
‘Well maybe he is,’ Tamsin said, moving in snugly against him, ‘but I’m glad it’s you here and not him.’ Well didn’t that just sum up the situation? Kevin’s boldness was returning now. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand and began to entwine his fingers amongst the blonde strands of her hair. God, I’m actually going to get to fuck this girl! I’m really going to fuck her!
‘Yes and here’s to Amy,’ said Cathy from his other side, in the voice of someone sliding cheerfully into intoxication.
‘Who?’ Kevin asked vaguely, caught up in his moment of seduction.
‘Our friend,’ Tamsin laughed, her mouth floating inches from Kevin’s. ‘She thinks she’s such a big Neanderthal fan.’
‘Yeah,’ Cathy snorted in mild derision, as her hand crept from Kevin’s knee towards his inner thigh. ‘Bragging about she’d got tickets to the Manchester concert tonight when we hadn’t. God, will she get a surprise when we tell her who we got to hang out with!’ Her face nuzzled warmly against the back of Kevin’s neck, even as it broke out in fresh goose bumps. Their friend at tonight’s concert? It was a wonder the girl hadn’t phoned already, so she could gloatingly relay a blast of the live music! Would he never be home free? Tamsin’s nose was playfully brushing his cheek, Cathy’s deft fingers searching out the bulge in his jeans. He was suspended between erect excitement and renewed terror at the thought of discovery. Something had to be done – about both sensations.
He kissed Tamsin suddenly, thrusting his tongue into her surprised but accepting mouth, his fingers closing on the back of her neck and drawing her lips hard against his own. His other hand slid around Cathy’s waist, drawing her into him, so that he could easily turn from one girl and transfer his lustful attentions to the other’s equally willing lips. Then he broke away once more, leaving both girls panting and eager. On some sisterly cue they leaned towards each other before him and locked mouths in a manoeuvre designed, he knew, to reinforce his cock’s already advanced stiffness. Cathy’s hand was now rubbing him vigorously through the material of his jeans, as she snogged Tamsin wetly.
The girls slowly parted, both eyeing Kevin slyly as they did, a strand of saliva linking their mouths. ‘Well why don’t we provide a proper story for your pal Amy?’ he suggested with slyness equalling theirs. ‘That shower room’s going begging.’ He squeezed both girls playfully. ‘The first one naked and in the shower is the first to get fucked, how does that sound?’ For an instant Kevin felt twin gazes burn into him, as his mind reeled with his own daring. Then Tamsin and Cathy glanced at each other, their eyes alight with excitement, and leapt from the bed into frantic stripping action.
Kevin stared in wonder at what he had set in motion. Cathy was flinging off her waistcoat and setting about the buttons on her flounced shirt, while Tamsin dragged the Neanderthal T-shirt over her head in a single move, sending her sheet of corn-blonde hair cascading back down round her face as she did. Kevin fixated on the lightly tanned half-moons of her small, perfect breasts, clad as they were in a black push-up bra, while she slipped off her heeled shoes and began unbuckling her jeans. Cathy had struggled out of her shirt by now, revealing an equally golden, but rather more voluptuous upper body than that of her sister. The plump tits that graced her slim form were jiggling attractively within white lace cups, as she clutched a bedpost and tried to wrench herself free of her calfskin boots.
‘Here, help me!’ she urged, obviously miffed at this additional encumbrance, and Kevin gladly slid off the boots off Cathy’s legs, as she proffered them in turn. Tamsin was ahead now, having wrestled her dimpled ass and slender legs free of her jeans. She fumbled the clasp on the strap of her bra, however, as Cathy unfastened her own slacks and send them slithering smoothly to the floor. Tamsin finally sprung her bra, freeing her pert little tits to Kevin’s delighted gaze, and made to peel off her matching black panties. Cathy’s fuller breasts were bouncing free as well now, but Tamsin was stripped first and making gleefully for the bathroom.
‘Oh no you don’t!’ Cathy’s competitive spirit got the best of her and she grabbed her marginally younger sister by the upper arms, flinging her bodily around and hurling her squealing on top of Kevin. He was engulfed in her silky hair as her petite, nude body tumbled on to him. Something landed on the bed beside him, which he guessed to be Cathy’s final discarded piece of clothing.
‘I get first fuck!’ the victor was laughing, as she padded lightly off to the bathroom.
‘Cheating bitch!’ Tamsin yelled in giggling outrage, then she focused amorously on Kevin through her dishevelled strands of her hair. ‘So why don’t you just fuck me now, Tommy?’
It seemed a reasonable proposition, but Kevin had one final task to attend to before he could relax. ‘I would,’ he told her with lustful sincerity, ‘but a promise is a promise…’ He flipped her around, so that she lay across his lap, and slapped her bare buttocks firmly, making her squeal again. ‘Now go get soaped up!’ She clambered off him, laughing delightedly at how bad this rock drummer was turning out to be, then she turned and scampered sylph-like after her sister.
Kevin could hear the sound of power-jets and giddy, splashing excitement, as he glanced around for the girls’ bags. He found them on a chair nearby the door and, confident from the joyful cries echoing from the bathroom, plundered them for mobile phones. Only Cathy’s phone was switched on, it turned out, and someone had left a text message. Amy, most likely. Well that text wasn’t going to be read any time soon… Kevin felt gloriously devious as the phone flickered off and he dropped it back into Cathy’s bag.
‘Tommy, where are you?’ one of the girls was calling above the roar of the water.
‘On my way!’ he shouted back with relish, already stripped to the waist and divesting himself of everything else, a man on that most serious of missions. He was naked in seconds and finally ready to enjoy his party.
The open-plan wet-room gave a direct view of Tamsin and Cathy’s slippery, naked bodies, as water fired on them from multiple angles. They were cavorting blithely amongst the jets, which ricocheted off their glistening, light-brown skin, leaving beads of water on their hard, pink nipples. Cathy saw Kevin approaching and responded by grabbing her sister from behind and lovingly soaping her breasts. Kevin slipped under the power-jets and into his own private Heaven.
The proximity to so much lithe female flesh was overwhelming. He could feel wet breasts jostling up against his torso, slippery thighs brushing the bulging head of his cock, as the sound of thrilled, sensual laughter filled his head along with the water-rush. Tommy Ross presumably took such moments in his rock drummer stride, but it was too much for Kevin Roach to contend with. Happily the girls had taken over, squeezing their delightful curves even closer to his drenched person in a dual embrace, then sharing out the shower gel and applying it with gently caressing hands to his upper body. He found himself sandwiched between them, Tamsin’s hands skating lightly over his shoulders and back, while Cathy soapily massaged his chest, her fingers lingering about his hard, hyper-sensitive nipples. He uttered a deep groan of astonished ecstasy, the head of his cock pressed against Cathy’s flat stomach as she worked on him.
‘That’s right Tommy, let us do it all,’ Tamsin whispered in his ear, her hands descending smoothly to his hips and her pointy little nipples pressing against his back.
‘Hold his hands,’ Cathy instructed her sister, and Kevin felt Tamsin gently grip his wrists and hold them behind his back. Cathy squirted gel liberally over her tits and lathered them up for a moment, then she leaned into him on tiptoe and rubbed the soft, soapy pillows deliciously all over his chest, as he shuddered with disbelieving pleasure. ‘We’re here to make you feel good, Tommy,’ she told him in a voice that was almost beseeching. She slithered her body downwards, drawing her lovely breasts in a wet trail over his stomach and thighs, either side of his quivering erection. With one gel-slimed hand she cupped his tightened balls, with the other she soaped his cock lovingly from thick base to fattened head, crooning to herself in joy all the while, presumably at the privilege of getting to wank Tommy Ross.
Tamsin was busy behind Kevin, gliding her hands in smooth circles over his buttocks. Then she slid her fingers down the cleft between them and over his asshole, almost causing him to yelp in a distinctly non-macho fashion. ‘We’ll do anything,’ said Cathy in the same pleading tone as before, as if to mark out her sister and herself from the groupie pack. ‘You hear me? Fucking anything.’ Her hand movement increased its wet friction on his cock and for a moment he was tempted just to go with it, to offload his balls all over Cathy’s face there and then. But Tommy Ross would never waste such an opportunity, he knew. Come on my son – live the moment, live the fucking moment…
Kevin stayed Cathy’s hand as it worked up a froth of soap bubbles on his stiffened pole and with a gentle touch to her chin prompted her back to her feet. He reached between her legs, parted the cleanly waxed lips of her pussy and felt her body jolt with fresh excitement as his fingers located her clitoris; he was not so devoid of recent experience that he had forgotten where that was, although the little nub of flesh was so moist and lust-swollen it would have been difficult to miss. Cathy’s face flushed and she swayed slightly, as though trying to prevent her knees from buckling, as Kevin gently wrested control away from her. He had already turned slightly and guided Tamsin around to face him, so that he could slip his fingers inside her bare snatch as well, and now both sisters listed hazily under his touch. Cathy was moaning slightly, while Tamsin reached out and held on to his upstanding prick, as if to steady herself.
It took a moment for Kevin’s mind to fully register that he was actually fingering a set of pretty, blonde twins (the realisation alone nearly brought him to a spurting climax), then his new-found daring kicked in once more. ‘Touch yourselves.’ He pulled the girls closer together and guided a hand each to the other’s pussy. ‘Keep each other wet. I’ll be right back.’ He rushed from under the myriad streams of water and ran dripping and fiercely aroused out into the bedroom. The phrase ‘a pair of well-stuffed cunts’ had somehow bubbled itself to the surface of his mind, from what piece of porno he had seen or read he could not recall; it was a fantasy, however, he intended to realise directly. For a moment he searched through the treasures he had stowed in the top drawer of the dresser, then he returned to the shower, brandishing a suitable ‘cunt-stuffer’ in each hand.
Tamsin and Cathy were pressed close as they frigged each other, rivulets of water cascading down their gracefully curved bodies. They glanced round at Kevin lasciviously, then broke apart in laughing astonishment at what he held; two semi-transparent green vibrators, sleek phallic rockets of impressive pussy-expanding dimensions, both possessed of a hooked protrusion for clitoral stimulation. Between the two striking objects his dick provided a third up-thrusting column. He flicked the switch at the base of each vibrator and they hummed into life.
‘They’re waterproof,’ he told them smiling with a wickedness he had ever before kept concealed. ‘Purpose-made for the shower. The slogan on the box was “Fuck your pussy clean”. Want to give them a test-run?’
‘Shit, that’s so practical!’ Cathy grinned, eyes agog as she and Tamsin took hold of the thrumming devices. They both wore expressions of thrilled trepidation, as Tamsin followed her sister’s lead, soaping over her new toy in preparation for insertion.
‘God, Tommy, you’re so bad!’ she said huskily, as she pulled her pussy lips apart and slotted the tip of the humming tool between them. Cathy was not far behind her and together they fitted the tuberous plastic heads and great streamlined shafts inside their vaginas, groaning with a sense of blissful exertion as they did so. Kevin stared in amazement as the girls leaned against the white marble of the shower wall, stretching back the glistening folds of their twin cunts into wide accommodating tunnels, as they slid the vibrators up themselves. Then they began working the thick tubes in and out of their wet passageways, Tamsin moaning weakly with delight, Cathy closing her eyes and muttering a variety of intense fuck-phrases to herself. Kevin snapped out of a renewed trance and began exploring the girls’ bodies with his hands – massaging tits, groping buttocks, teasing those pulsing, juiced-up little clitties – as the girls thrust the buzzing sex toys deep. His cock slapped against moist female flesh every move he made and it drove him fucking wild.
Anything – he owed it to himself and his erection to keep testing that promise. ‘Get on your knees,’ he told Cathy. ‘Get on your knees and suck me. And keep fucking yourself while you do it.’ It was like Tommy speaking through him. Kevin Roach could never have delivered such instructions, or have expected to see them obeyed, but Cathy was positively hurrying to do what he asked. She clambered down into that gorgeously subservient position a second time, took his hardness in one hand and slurped it into her eager, wet mouth. ‘Oh God…’ Almost immediately it was too much. Christ, the sensation alone – every nerve-ending in his cock was alive and screaming in joyous response to her luscious onslaught. But it was more than that. It was the sense of triumph at this hot, sucking endorsement of his rigid masculinity. He propped himself against the tiled wall and looked down at Cathy’s scarlet lips, as they slid intently up and down, while her tongue worked, secret and busy, washing his length in her saliva.
Tamsin, occupied though she was with fucking herself, watched Cathy in action on Kevin’s dick, then looked up at him with the same desperate-to-please expression that her sister had earlier worn. ‘Want me to lick your balls, Tommy?’
‘Yes – no…no…’ The thought was a beautiful one, but another occurred to him even better, even nastier… He placed a hand on her flushed cheek, looked into her eyes, delirious though he was, and tested her commitment as a fan. ‘Get down behind me and lick my asshole.’ Of the two sisters Tamsin seemed the sweeter, the one less likely to do something so depraved, so cock-hardeningly sordid. And that was just why he wanted her to do it. She didn’t miss a beat, however. Still filled by the vibrator, Tamsin slid herself down into position at his rear, apparently desirous to give Tommy Ross whatever kind of pleasure he demanded. As Cathy increased her suction on Kevin’s cock, Tamsin parted his buttocks and with absolutely no ceremony plunged her tongue into his anus.
‘Fuck me!’ Kevin’s pelvis thrust forward in shock at Tamsin’s intimate intrusion; his cock jammed involuntarily down Cathy’s throat, causing her to choke. The elder twin drew back spluttering for a moment, but she recovered valiantly and gobbled him up again, sucking even more deeply and intensely than before. He could feel Tamsin’s tongue squirm further up his rectum, an exquisite, near-unbearable sensation he hadn’t banked on, one that pumped his cock to furious pre-orgasmic hardness in her sister’s mouth. The girl obviously wanted to prove herself no sexual lightweight; that she was the match of any female Neanderthal fan, that she was good for any form of satisfaction Tommy Ross wanted. The fleshy muscle of her tongue writhed its way into Kevin’s ass, seeking out his G-spot, testing how far up it could go. Her hands fastened themselves to his hips, as she pressed her face into his cheeks and licked him out. These zealous efforts pushed him where he had been threatening to go for some time. As he felt his balls contract, he grabbed Cathy by the back of the head and pushed her face down on to his stomach, so that he was fully lodged down her throat. His other hand grasped frantically behind him for Tamsin a moment and then found her, squeezing her face even tighter into his ass.
‘Ohhh – ohhhhhhhh…FUCK!’ As paroxysms of expending lust seized his body, he clamped the two girls’ heads to him front and back and drained himself down Cathy’s throat in a series of huge, glorious jets. His eyes were screwed shut, his head filled with white light as his balls emptied, Tamsin’s tongue still slithering about in his rectum. He would have collapsed even as he cried out his pleasure, had he not been propping himself up using the twins. Finally he did let go, flopping out of Cathy’s mouth and subsiding giddily to the floor of the shower, where he knelt between the girls, regaining his breath. He could hear female shouts of rapture now; one or maybe both of them coming – in the dazed aftermath of his ecstasy he hardly knew. Then all three of them were huddled under coursing streams of warm water in a post-climactic stupor. When Kevin opened his eyes, both sisters were panting and laughing and gazing at him in a sort of awe.
‘Holy fuck,’ said Cathy, ‘he’s such a bad-boy, isn’t he?’
‘You’re not joking!’ Tamsin wrapped her moist limbs around Kevin’s kneeling form, looking delighted at how bad she had just been herself.
In his satiated state Kevin could so easily have been caught off guard. He clung to his Tommy persona, kissing both girls with the theatricality of someone used to such night-time performances and taking himself off to get dried. Tamsin and Cathy eventually followed to towel themselves down and dry their hair, while Tommy plied them with more champagne and basked in their twinkling enthusiasm over his sexual decadence. They ate nachos ordered from Room Service, while watching a variety of porn on the hotel’s cable, and ended up lounging on the bed, Kevin wrapped in a towel, the girls wearing monogrammed hotel bathrobes, as he regaled his guests with improvised rock anecdotes.
‘So I walk into the room and Bex is over at the open window.’ Kevin was on his feet to demonstrate. ‘Two girls sitting watching – kind of like you are now – and wondering what he’s going to do next. He wants to prove to them just how rock and roll he is, so he picks the television up from its stand – wasn’t as posh a place as this – and goes to chuck it out the window! Thing is – he’s too drunk to realise it’s still plugged in.’ The narrator gave the sisters space to anticipate the conclusion. ‘The cable pulls tight and the TV comes crashing down on his foot! And it was heavy as well… Broke two of his toes! He’s in agony and everyone else in the band is laughing at him… Eventually we had to get him to Casualty.’ Kevin thought he remembered reading about something vaguely similar befalling ‘Bex’ Bexley, the Neanderthal bassist, but was in a zone where he could have made up similar rubbish all night. Tamsin and Cathy were suitable taken with his semi-fictional tale and creased up with mirth on the bed at its punch line. Kevin joined them, sliding his hand amorously under Tamsin’s robe and feeling his way up her soft inner thigh. ‘And that,’ he said playfully, ‘is the sort of thing we musicians do to impress you girls.’
Tamsin’s laughing visage clouded once more with lust under his touch. Cathy too was responding to his closeness, rolling close and running her hands intently over his exposed back and shoulders. ‘You don’t have to worry about impressing us,’ Tamsin said breathily. She let the top of her robe fall open to reveal her breasts, as he climbed on top of her and pressed his mouth firmly to hers.
Cathy was tugging at his towel, reaching beneath it to where his erection was renewing itself, groping for his balls and thickening shaft. ‘Don’t forget, Tommy-boy,’ she said throatily, ‘you promised me first fuck!’
Kevin turned about to kiss her, his towel falling away from his rapidly enlarging cock, and they were off again, both girls caressing his skin extravagantly, with moist, searching mouths. Time to do them both properly – but only once they had provided him with another show. He drew away from their attentions and rushed back to Phil’s trove, returning with a spectacular, double-ended dildo, with the appearance of a thick flesh-pink snake, and a large plastic bottle of sex lubricant. ‘Now maybe you can show me what this thing’s for?’ He knew by now that the girls would shirk from no task he presented them and he greased up the eighteen-inch monster from the bottle with a vigour born of his new confidence. They unfolded themselves from their robes and arranged themselves, legs set wide apart, either end of the great dual-action phallus, eyeing its dimensions avidly.
‘Well let’s see,’ said Cathy lustily, ‘I think this end fits in here.’ She pushed one thick end of the dildo between her glistening-red cunt lips. ‘Then the other end…’
‘That’s for me!’ Tamsin exclaimed eagerly, as she obligingly wriggled her pussy about the opposing end and began to slide herself on to the beast. Cathy gripped the middle of the shaft firmly to accommodate her sister, until both on them were tightly slotted on to the same toy.
The resultant demonstration was all Kevin could have dreamed of. He held the reinforced rubber dick at its centre and wanked his cock with his free hand, as Tamsin and Cathy gripped each other’s shoulders and fucked themselves. Their faces were alive with Tommy-pleasing fervour, spots of colour returning to their cheeks faces as they did. Tight twin pussies slid squelchily together and apart over the dildo’s fatness, swallowing up most of its length each time the girls jointly impaled themselves and causing their cunt-juice to trickle over Tommy’s clutching fingers. The sight drove his cock back to full, raging hardness. On Cathy’s cue she and Tamsin let go each other and fell back on to the bed, propping themselves up and continuing to drive with their thighs. Kevin had an even better view now of the huge dong vanishing into the sisters’ vaginal passageways and appearing again, ever slicker from their soaking holes. It was a fabulously messy sight and he added to it, lavishly spilling lubricant over their upturned tits and stomachs and spreading a satiny sheen with his palms over all their delicious curves, as they carried on pumping their twats.
Cathy had begun to rotate her fingers on her clitoris once and Tamsin was following suit, but wonderful sight though it would be, Kevin did not want them to come just yet. ‘Okay, that’s enough,’ he said heatedly, staying their motion with a hand on each cunt. ‘Take it out and lick it clean.’ They did just that, good little groupies that they were, extracting the dildo with a delicious double-slurp from their tight pussies and sucking their juices lewdly off respective ends, while Kevin held it between them. They both eye-balled him suggestively as they did and he readily took their meaning, lying down on the bed in expectation. ‘Okay girls, now suck on the real thing.’ Dildo tossed aside, they took obedient turns going down on Kevin, giving his engorged cock and swollen balls the very best work of their drooling rock-fan mouths and staring at him licentiously all the while. He had sometimes wondered if his prick were anything more than average, but with the twins’ cheeks concave on his hard shaft and their tongues curling around his tight scrotum, he felt like Brett bloody Hardwood, ready to do some slut-fucking of his own. ‘Okay,’ he panted, sitting up and easing the girls off his cock. It fell back on to his stomach with a gratifying salami-slap. ‘Cathy first. Sit on it.’
Kevin felt an immense gratification as the elder twin knelt over him and guided the head of his proud-standing weapon between her puffed labia. She slid herself his whole vertical distance, allowing the warm wet velvet of her sex to consume his thankful dick. Phoney rock star and half his fan-base released complimentary groans of satisfaction as they connected; then Kevin seized hold of her hips and she began to move up and down on him, slowly at the start, but with a relentless building momentum, her taut vaginal muscles giving his shaft a slippery massage all the while. Soon she was riding him with lusty abandon, brushing scattered hair away from her face, her breasts bouncing crazily and her middle finger busy on her clitoris, as she humped her drummer-boy.
‘This feels so fucking good,’ she muttered with conviction and as Kevin drove persistently up to meet her, helping her re-launch herself repeatedly off the base of his cock, he found himself concurring with the sentiment wholeheartedly. The fact that Tamsin was lying beside them, fingering heatedly between her legs as she regarded the ongoing fuck, added gourmet sauce to his already delicious experience.
The younger twin was uttering little pleas in the back of her throat that she get her turn soon. She looked so adrift there on the bedspread, that Kevin was almost tempted to throw off and replace Cathy instantly, but he let the girl frig herself to a thrashing climax first. Then he threw her off – threw her flailing across the bed even as she trembled with her final coital throes – and dragged the wet and ready Tamsin to take over proceedings on his cock. It was Cathy now who lay, disgruntled and horny, while her sister rode her rock hero – teased the head of his dick with her slithery folds, then gripped his torso and thrust herself fully up and down on him, clutching his pole with her snatch, taking all he had to give and taking it gratefully. Kevin fucked back inside her like the stud he had always wanted to be; occasionally he slowed so he could pull her down and kiss her, then he gave it to her hard again, until she peaked like her sister and exploded into orgasm all over his pole, lost somewhere between love and lust for Tommy Ross.
But Kevin had more to give. He was a rock drummer after all, he had appeared on the cover of last month’s Kerrang! Scarcely had Tamsin come, when he extracted himself from her pulsing cunt, climbed from under her and flung her forward on all fours. He grabbed the recumbent Cathy and bustled her into a similar position next to her sister. It was an awe- and cock-inspiring sight, those two pairs of young pert buttocks jostling side by side, two pairs of pussy lips swollen from the heat of sex and protruding between thighs still soaked and shiny from the liquid gush of orgasm. Both cunt-holes begging to be refilled by celebrity cock. Well he couldn’t disappoint, Tommy’s reputation was on the line…
He gave it to Cathy first – plunged his dick into her well of liquid lust and churned up its slurping depths with his hard, exploratory thrusting. ‘Fuck me, Tommy, fucking give it to me!’ she was yelling, and he supplied on demand, letting his palm impact on her ass cheek several times like a pistol crack as he pumped her. He grappled her shoulders and delivered a series of deliberate hammer-thrusts, each of which expelled the breath from her body, then he took hold of her waist and pummelled her rapidly, enjoying the variety of unintelligible sounds he was producing from her mouth. Tamsin quivered and writhed beside her sister in anticipation of the same treatment, relying on an occasional fingering from Kevin to ease her frustration. The space between her legs, he noted with amazement, was beyond wet; it was a warm puddle of passion that trickled all over his hand.
Finally he gave in to Tamsin’s implicit demand and provided her with the filling she so urgently required, while Cathy protested bitterly at being so abruptly emptied of his manhood. She pleaded for his swift, hard return, but Kevin was already ploughing into her sister’s succulent hole, so she had to finish herself off with her own fingers. Never before had Kevin been in such a groove of sustained fucking. Those early nerves had been conquered, he had emptied himself of his first load and now he was ready to shaft these girls all bloody night. He marvelled at his own control, as he reamed out the happily whimpering Tamsin, his heartily driving pelvis cushioned on each thrust by her soft, tanned cheeks. Christ, he could just alternate between the two, till he had pounded them both into a sweating delirium. He could stretch their bendy bodies into every position he had dreamed of and screw them till the sun came up, till they couldn’t take any more, till they could hardly remember their own…
‘Damn, she’s got her phone turned off!’
Kevin stalled in his pumping. He saw Cathy, still pink-faced from her most recent climax, peering at the screen of her mobile. Tamsin too was staring up in her hazy, fucked state, to see what her sister was talking about. ‘I really wanted Amy to hear this,’ Cathy explained in breathless agitation. ‘I wanted her to hear you fucking us, Tommy! Hang on, she’s left a text…’ Kevin did not entirely lose his erection, crammed as was inside Tamsin, but his ardour chilled at the look of bafflement forming on Cathy’s face. ‘”Concert fucking epic”,’ she was reading from her phone. ‘”Even better than last night. Neanderthal rock!”‘ She looked up at the still-connected Kevin and Tamsin with a blank look.
‘Wha…?’ said Tamsin, with the confusion of someone interrupted mid-shafting. ‘What concert?’ Kevin’s hands were still clutched about the girl’s ass, but his mind was filled with screeching horror. To be discovered now, having come this distance, having played it all so well! Now, at the very peak of his new-found confidence…
‘She is such a liar!’ Cathy’s voice was a blend of outrage and wild amusement. ‘She can’t bear us to know that the concert was cancelled after all her bragging… She’s going to make it all up! Can you believe the girl?’ She broke into a peal of delighted laughter, with Tamsin joining in pantingly. ‘Oh God, have we got her!’ Kevin was still motionless, stunned by the near-fatal turn of events, but with relief commencing a wild rush through his body, sweeping away his panic. Cathy crawled across the bed to him, flung her naked arms around his body and spoke into his ear with gleeful satisfaction. ‘Go on Tommy, fuck my sister. Fuck her brains out! You know she fucking loves it…’
Kevin’s luck had held one more time and Cathy’s words pumped him rigid. In victory he slammed his cock back into Tamsin’s most secret depths. It was an iron-cast, rock-hard certainty: he was untouchable! For a few more strokes he poked Tamsin vigorously from behind, then he withdrew, spun her on to her back and shoved himself back inside her from above, her face a picture of surprised ecstasy.
Cathy was on the phone again, but even that didn’t phase him, as he pounded her sister stupid. ‘Come on, let’s leave Amy a message,’ she was urging. ‘Hey, Amy – glad you enjoyed the concert. ‘Cos you’re never going to believe who we’re hanging out with…’ And she held the mobile up to catch the interaction between the furiously coupling pair. For firmer proof she even took a photograph.
Kevin worked between Tamsin’s thighs like the perspiration-drenched, hard-pumping sexual athlete he had only ever been in his hottest wank-dreams. He could picture the moment next day when the sisters’ friend Amy would confront them with the truth – their denial, their furious protests, their speechless outrage in the face of the incomprehensible truth. Who the hell was that? Who did we just let fuck us all last night? It made him laugh inwardly, even as he gave Tamsin the drilling of her life. The girls would never be able to deny how excited they’d got. The remaining hours of the night time stretched ahead, an inviting vista of rock star decadence, and he had not even introduced Phil’s mystery sex toy yet.
‘God, Tommy, you’re a fucking animal!’ Cathy slid up against his humping form as she spoke, and though Big Dave and the boys would never believe him should he ever tell them, he knew she meant it. Maybe the night’s magic would stick with him, transforming his sexual future. Or maybe he would just revert to his old self… No matter. Here in this moment, as his cock surged repeatedly into Tamsin’s pliant young cunt, as he slammed his way towards explosive, ball-draining orgasm, Cathy’s tits plumped adoringly against his ribcage, Kevin Roach was the only, the undisputed King of Rock and Roll.