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"Well don't trip too much on it," Matt told him. "Ain't no bitch worth it and that's the fuckin truth. Score yourself one of these groupies here and bring her back to my place when we leave. I'll reserve the spare bedroom just for you."

"Thanks," Jake said, "but I think I'll just head on home tonight. There's a new song I've been thinking about. Maybe I'll try to strum a little bit of it out."

"Suit yourself," Matt said. "But remember that horseshit about all work and no play and all that. You'd do yourself good to get your dick straightened by someone other than Miss Holier Than Thou."

And before he could reply Matt picked up his fresh drink and headed back the way he had come, leaving Jake to contemplate those words of wisdom while he sipped his own drink.

It wasn't more than a minute or two before one of the groupies came and sat next to him. She was about nineteen or so, a brunette, with long, straight hair styled after Brooke Shields. She wore a pair of Calvin Klein jeans that were so tight it appeared circulation might have been cut off to her legs. Covering her torso-barely-was a fluorescent pink tube top that allowed her large, obviously braless breasts to bounce and jiggle with every move she made. She carried what appeared to be a Long Island iced tea in one hand and a long, skinny cigarette stained with lipstick in the other.

"Hi," she said brightly, turning her body towards him and making sure her boobs gave a particularly expressive wobble in the process.

"Hi," he replied, keeping his expression neutral. He didn't really want to talk to anyone right now but she was a fan and it was bad business to be rude to one's fans.

"I'm Colette. Colette Jones."

He gave her a polite smile. "Jake Kingsley," he said.

She giggled. "I know that," she said. "Everyone in here knows that. I saw you sittin' here all by yourself and thought I'd... you know... come and join you. Keep you company, ya know."

"That was very nice of you," he told her.

"You guys did an awesome show tonight. Totally awesome."

"Thank you," he said. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"You have such a hot voice," she said, leaning a little closer. "I guess girls tell you that all the time, don't they?"

"I may have heard that once or twice," he allowed.

"I just love music," she said. "And you guys totally rock. This is like the fifth or sixth time I've seen you now. A couple of times here but mostly over at D Street. That's like my favorite club, ya know. Everyone knows me over there."

"Do they?"

"Oh yeah." She giggled again. "I guess I have something of a... ya know... a reputation there."

That was his opening of course. He was supposed to ask her just what sort of reputation she had. From there the sexual talk would begin, culminating in an invitation to the party at Matt's house. Though Jake had never participated in this dance before, he knew its steps well enough by listening to the tales of the other band members. But he wasn't really interested in dancing. "That's very... uh... interesting," he said.

"And very well earned, I'm told," she said saucily.

He suppressed a sigh. "Look, uh..."

"Colette," she provided.

"Right... Colette. I... uh... well I'm really having kind of a bad night. You see..."

"Did you have a fight with your girlfriend?" she asked, her eyes shining now.

This threw him off stride a bit. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, everyone knows you have a girlfriend. The girls are all jealous of her and the guys are all hot for her. She is pretty cute." She scowled a little as she said this. "Very wholesome looking, ya know, although she does need to learn how to dress a little better for the clubs. I mean, really... a cotton skirt and a peasant blouse? Puh-leeze. But anyway, we always see you here with her. If she's not with you than you leave early. So, since she was here with you earlier and now she's gone and you're still here, sitting by yourself and drinking at the bar, you must've had a fight, right?"

"You're a regular Sherlock Holmes," he told her.

She puzzled over that for a moment and then finally seemed to get the premise, or at least she pretended to. She laughed as if that was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. "Right," she said, leaning closer and slapping lightly at his arm. "So what did you guys fight about?"

"Don't you think that's a little personal?" he asked.

She shrugged, her breasts jiggling distractingly from the motion. "It helps to talk about it. That's what they say."

"Is that what they say?"

She nodded seriously. "Oh yes."

"Well, if it's all the same to you, I kinda like to keep things penned up inside, you know? I'm an artist. Suffering is good for us. At least that's what they say."

This time his humor shot cleanly over her head, not so much as nicking a hair on its way. "I can respect that," she told him.

They sat in silence for a bit. Jake turned his attention back to his drink, swallowing it down and waving to Chris for another. He was hoping Colette would simply take the hint and leave him alone. She may have done the former but she was passing on the latter. She sat there next to him, puffing on her cigarette and sipping from her own drink, trying to think of a way to get the conversation rolling again. Finally she just fell back on instinct.

"Do you like my boobs?" she suddenly blurted.

Jake looked slowly over at her. "Do I like them?"

She nodded, smiling sexily. "Most guys love them," she said. "That's why I wear these kind of tops. It shows them off. I mean... if ya got it, flaunt it, right?"

"I suppose that's a good philosophy," he said.

She puzzled over his words for a moment and then smiled. "Right," she agreed. "That's my philosophy. So... you wanna touch them?"

"Huh?"

"My boobs, silly," she said with feigned shyness. "I'll let you if you want. I'll let you do anything if you want."

"Umm, that's uh... very nice of you to offer, Colette, but..."

She stood up, taking a step closer to him, so she was standing between his outspread knees, close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating off of her body, close enough for him to smell the perfume she'd put on. "Look," she said softly, "I think you're totally hot, Jake. Your voice makes me so fuckin' wet and I'd give anything to make it with you."

"That's very flattering, but..."

She leaned forward, her hands coming down onto his shoulders, her thighs now touching his, her cleavage now less than eight inches from his face. She bent down and kissed him softly on the forehead. "Take me to the party tonight," she whispered. "You won't be sorry."

The feel of her softness against him coupled with the view down her halter was having an effect. His groin, after all, was throbbing mildly with blue balls from his earlier, unrelieved session with Michelle. The fact that she was basically offering him her admittedly gorgeous body did little to dissipate the horniness that had suddenly sprung up. But on the other hand, he had broken up with his girlfriend of nearly eighteen months less than an hour before. Wasn't it a little too early for this? Wasn't their some sort of decorum that should be observed? Especially since it was possible-unlikely perhaps, but possible-that Michelle might just have a change of heart and call him in the morning with an apology.

He probably would have maintained the willpower to refuse her if not for what happened next. After kissing his forehead, she leaned down a little more and kissed him again, just to the left of his left eye. As her soft lips made contact she sniffed a little and then smiled.

"You ate her pussy out tonight, didn't you?" she asked.

"What?" he asked, his voice not quite steady.

"I can smell her all over your face," she said with a pleasant sigh. "I love the smell of another girl's pussy."

"You... you do?" he asked, his cock taking a large lurch at the words.

"Mmmm hmmm. My girlfriend from high school and I used to go down on each other when we had sleepovers at my house. Just to see what it was like. I used to love tasting her." She shuddered a little. "This is getting me so hot, Jake. Sooo hot."