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"Straight," Mick said in his sometimes incomprehensible accent. Course, David understood that word perfectly. He also giggled with laughter.
"No guy is straight after enough beers and or persuasion," he replied firmly.
"I am," Mick answered. "And if you try anything, Mr Beer or Persuasion? I'll kick that skinny arse of yours across the stage. Got it?"
"I won't try beer. I won't promise not to try persuasion," David shot back. "I can't be held responsible if you respond to me being me."
"Well, that won't happen," Mick answered. "Just cause you wear dresses doesn't mean you can pretend to be a girl."
"Who says I can't..." David got a speculative look on his face.
"Because, Sunshine, your eyes give you away," Mick answered.
"Got me there," David nodded. "Course, if I was on my knees, and sucking your big cock, you wouldn't be able to see my eyes."
"Look, I'd have you figured out before you got to your knees," Mick said. "Even if you were in a dress and make up and whatever the fuck else you did. Your eyes," he repeated.
"I'll make a bet with you," David said. "If I can get you to let me suck you off and you don't think it's the best you've ever had, I'll stop the flirting. But if you do like what I do, if I get that far, then you have to let me show you what I can do to you. Do we have a bet?"
"Under one condition. Neither of us is blindfolded," Mick said. "You've got to do this without that help."
"No blindfolds, got it," David said.
Mick raised one half-lowered eyelid. "I don't trust you. You've got something up your sleeve."
"I will not cover my or your eyes with cloth," David said. "Don't be paranoid."
"But there's lots of other ways you could cover them and I could... fuck," Mick looked worried.
"If you try to exclude everything, I'll only figure out another way," David pointed out. "If a way exists. And besides, you said you'd know me, so it's not something you need to worry about, right?"
"Right..." Mick was still looking concerned.
"Look, worst that happens is you'll get a great blow job," David pointed out.
"But what if I like it?"
"Then you double your options," David replied. "In theory at least."
"Got to say, you're pragmatic," Mick grinned. "And I'll know you. I will. You're a distinctive guy."
"So there's nothing to worry about, now is there?" David asked.
"No..." Mick was clearly still wary.
"Last chance to get out," David said. "But the flirting doesn't stop."
"Might as well take the chance of it stopping," Mick said, and he shook David's hand. "You got a bet. And I'll know it's you."
"I wouldn't be so sure," David said. "I have lots of tricks."
"Nah..." Mick shook his head.
"You'll see..." David grinned. "See you... soon. Whether or not you know it's me."
A few days passed with no attempts - as far as Mick knew, at least - from David to fool him. And of course if he didn't know about, it couldn't possibly have happened. Eventually the bet faded in his mind and he kind of started to get used to the flirting - not that he'd ever admit that.
He even had a few girls. None of them was very good at sucking his cock, though. He wondered if the standard of groupie was falling. But Woody seemed to be getting good blow jobs. It felt rather unfair to Mick. Still, he figured he could ask what worked.
"Girl I was with a couple of nights ago..." Woody grinned. "She kept her sunglasses on while she went down. And fuck if it didn't do something to her breathing that made it ten times better." Of course that was all Woody said. Talking more about how blow jobs felt, well, that might be a bit gay and Mick and Woody were straight. Not like David.
So that night, Mick picked out a girl. Hair swept up in a chignon, nice floaty caftan - Mick liked floaty caftans on girls - and, yes, huge sunglasses that hid about half her face. But her mouth, he could see her mouth, and it was too pretty not to think of it sucking on his cock. Hell, he was half hard just thinking about it, and it'd been a hell of a long time since he'd felt like that.
"You," he said, pointing to her. "You're mine tonight."
"Well, now," the girl said in a soft tone. "Hardly nice, baby."
"You're a groupie. You don't get nice," Mick said. "No nicer than this. Least I don't want to beat that pretty arse of yours up."
"Good point," she nodded, slowly, licking her lips. Mick's eyes were focused on her tongue.
"I might take you to the dressing room, instead of having you do it here," Mick said after a moment. It would look a little less weird if they were alone when he asked her to leave the glasses on.
"Whatever you say, big boy," she said, giving his cock a squeeze.
And fuck but her fingers knew just where to squeeze. Okay, Mick was doing this. "Dressing room, 's along here, and now, bitch."
"Don't call me bitch. You can call me slut or whore, but I am not a bitch," she retorted. "At least in bed."
"Okay, slut then," Mick was agreeable enough to use a different word. He was, however, dragging her toward the dressing room as she spoke and soon the door was closing behind them. Better lock it, wouldn't put it past David to get a look if he could, Mick thought. So he did, and found her standing in the middle of the room. "On your knees, whore, and mouth on my cock. Oh, an' keep the glasses on, heard it makes it better." Mick unzipped his pants and got his cock out. "Now, slut."
She knelt, and there was something elegant about it, but Mick was soon too busy moaning as her mouth worked him better than he'd been worked in months. "Fuck, yeah, you've got a great little mouth for sucking cock, baby," Mick groaned. "Don't stop, slut. Don't stop until you've taken all my cock down, and I've come."
She sucked him, adding tongue tricks and touches and things Mick wouldn't have ever thought possible, and it was a lot sooner than Mick's ego would have liked before he was spilling inside her mouth. "Oh fuck," he groaned out as he came. "You're too good, slut."
"Like it?" she asked, head still bowed. "Was it good?"
"Hell, it was the best I've had in months," Mick didn't think giving the slut a compliment was a bad thing. She might let him fuck her later if he did.
"Really?" she giggled. And that giggle sounded kind of familiar...
Looking up, she took off her sunglasses. And Mick stared into two different coloured eyes. He stared more. "David?"
"Told you I was good," he said.
Mick looked shocked. And a little green. Until he remembered. "Fuck. That was the best I've had in months. You weren't exaggerating!"
"Told you I wasn't," David smirked. "So..."
"So did you get Woody to say that about sunglasses?" Mick asked suspiciously.
"Say what about them?" David asked, puzzled, and as far as Mick could tell it was genuine.
"Oh just he said something about having a girl who kept them on and it being better."
"Well, no, I didn't tell him to say it, but... he told me the story too. I didn't know if he'd told you, but I figured if he had... well, it might be a way to do this. But that was me taking a chance too," David pointed out.
"Yeah, I'll chalk that one up to luck," Mick nodded. "Chance happens."
"So," David stood, stretching elegantly. "Want to talk about my collecting on the bet?"
"Oh hell, yeah, if you can make everything else feel as good as that blow job," Mick said, voice rough, "I think I've actually been missing out."
"I can't make it that good," David said to him. "I can make it better."
"Fuck, I hope I survive, then," Mick grinned.
David just gave Mick another smirk as he led him to the car so they could go back to the hotel and continue things.
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