The Lost Souls (The Holy Trinity #2.5)(54)

Two chicks at once: every man’s dream and every rock star’s prerogative. Sugar and Babe were good friends, or so it seemed, probably raised in some hippie commune, believing in the free love that was still trickling in from the ‘60s. They weren’t shy being naked, and they didn’t hold back when they made out with each other, not even hesitating when Tricky told Sugar to get her fingers up in Babe’s bush. Naturally, they were fans of Hybrid, before I had basically killed the band. Killed Mickey Brown, Bob our bus driver, and Graham Freed, too. But Graham didn’t count. He was the only thing that didn’t count. Everything else made me bleed.

The singer, Robbie, my best friend, wouldn’t speak to me. Noelle, our bassist, was still mentally ill from what happened.

I didn’t need to be reminded of that. Every time Sugar or Babe would open their mouths and wax on about how much they loved Hybrid, it was a knife to my f*cking heart. It never stopped hurting. So the next best thing was to f*ck the shit out of them—no more talking. Just suck my dick, get each other off, get me off. Give me peace. Make me forget.

I was getting there. I was getting there.

Babe pushed her massive tits together, and I squeezed my dick between them, my eyes rolling back in my head from the friction. Jesus. That’s what I was talking about. What I wanted. Just vibes buzzing along, nerves on fire, space travel inside your head.

I was f*cked up and f*cking. I was going and coming.

I drove myself between her tits, not bothering to look at her face or listen to her overdramatic moaning. How this was fun for her, I didn’t know, but maybe it was always her fantasy to have Sage Knightly’s king-sized cock between her tits. It was finally coming true. A story to tell her friends.

The fantasy is never as good as the reality, not for me anyway. Not that I really fantasized about anything other than coasting along and feeling nothing. Even my music was slipping away at a time that I needed it the most. Sex and drugs and booze and sleep. This was my new life. The rock and roll played somewhere in the background, a reminder of where I came from. But I didn’t even know if it was where I was headed.

When I felt my balls tighten, I pulled away and looked over my shoulder at Tricky and Sugar. She was coming so loudly that I was certain someone was going to complain. Whatever, man. I could have been Jimmy Page in here with a chick and a Great Dane; would that have been better?

“Hey, Tricky,” I called out to him. “I need her.”

Tricky grunted, his grip tightening on her small waist, his face furrowing as he approached climax. I guess I was being rude, bugging him right then, but damn if I didn’t care. I just needed to get off, and I needed Sugar to do it.

A world of want.

My lips curled at that thought, the title of my song that became a hit and let the world know that I still had “it,” even as a solo artist.

I had wanted so much.

It was given to me.

Then taken away.

Now I just wanted to come all over whoever this chick was.

Rocket ships into the ether. Shoot myself into the abyss.

Tricky got off, and I watched with mild interest and sudden impatience. Tricky didn’t know where he was or what he was doing, I could tell. I wanted that.

“Hey, Sugar,” I said to the girl as she slowly eased herself off his dick. I’d seen Tricky naked in all sorts of positions these days, and I was always too high to even be bothered by it. Maybe this is what it would be like at a hippie whorehouse. Dicks and balls and * everywhere, served with a side of speed and whiskey.

Groovy love, man, taken to the next dimension.

Sugar stumbled over, nearly falling into my back. She was f*cked up, too. One big party. Escapism: the new religion.

“Get on the bed and get that ass in the air,” I gestured, absently stroking myself at the same time. I’d already done her in the back door earlier, when Tricky and I tag-teamed her. He in the front, me in the rear. She wasn’t as pretty as Babe, but she was built smaller and her tight ass was a fist.

She gave me an apprehensive smile, like she wasn’t too sure about this. I gave her an expectant look in return, trying to be serious and threatening, but a lazy smile crept up on my lips. I failed. Drugs won.

“Come on,” I said, “you want to be the one to get me off, don’t you?”

I don’t know why she was hesitating, maybe because she was small and I was large and perhaps once was enough for her. But she just nodded while I put one hand on her firm ass and waved at Tricky.

“Tricky,” I said, slurring slightly. “Powder her nose.”

Tricky staggered over to the desk, naked as a jaybird, and then brought over the mirror, the rolled fifty, and the line that was still left. He gave me a look as he came over, like, “you sure you don’t want this?”

I did. But relief was so close. Better to give it to the girl, make her have fun in the last five minutes.

He put the mirror on the bed below her, and she dipped down to snort it up. He walked over to the mini fridge and brought out the half-drunk bottle of champagne and flopped down on the couch, content to watch. If he wanted to stare at my ass, he could go right ahead.

I waited a few seconds, teasing her crack with my tip, before she shook her head and seemed to loosen.

“What should I do?” Babe asked quietly, looking rejected since I gave up on her titty-f*cking so soon.

“Lie back down, Babe,” I told her. “Spread those legs. Sugar here will take care of both of us.”