Chapter 183

October 31,1988 Dublin, Ireland

He spun his heavy Guinness glass in the ring of wet on the bar. The sweet bartender was a dead ringer for Elena—if you could get past the Irish teeth. Elena light—he liked to think of the women he’d bagged lately. 


They’d flown into Ireland the night before. The transatlantic flight from hell as he liked to refer to first stops on the tour. At least Doc didn’t drop them in the middle of nowhere. New Jersey, the album, not the state, was going to get them back into the top spot. They’d made sure to blaze through the album before anyone could forget who they were. When they’d gotten their itineraries, he’d been more than happy to see Ireland on the sheet. 


He was getting tired of the meager playground in the US. The Europeans weren’t half as prudish—hell, they were downright open-minded as far as he was concerned. 


Dublin was a close second to New York City both in booze and babes as well as drugs. In fact his little bartender was doing a great business out the back door. Blow, blow jobs and a whore or two for hire was all part of the hospitality process of Ireland.


He loved Ireland.



He looked up as Richie drew Elena into a dark corner of the bar. His big hands curling and clutching all over her prime, grade-A ass. How he gotten her to marry him, he’d never know. It wasn’t like he kept his dick out of other snatch. Elena’s was prime and the preferred to any guy with a pulse, but he knew Richie was bangin’ groupies on the side. He had to be. 


There was no way Rich could say no to all the girls that threw themselves at him. Hell, he even got some cast offs. Of course, he knew what he needed to do with the castoffs. They rarely forgot his name after he got through with them, that was for sure. In fact, that was starting to come back and haunt him.


The groupies were starting to think they were entitled to something more than a quick fuck. He wasn’t sure when they started bringing their brains with them to the arenas, but he preferred the goldie-locks type that didn’t expect more than giving him a blow-job for the chance to meet Jon. 
He went out on the prowl, away from the groupies when he needed a little something more. 




Tonight—he’d do well with the Elena look alike, especially since she’d worn an easy access skirt that would save him from too much sweet talking. So what if her curves weren’t quite as smooth as Elena’s---it did the job until he could have the real thing under him again. 


He smiled at Rose, his dick twitching when she hiked her mini-skirt again, showing off a hint of muff and tight thighs. Maybe he’d get more than a good fuck tonight. The door opened and the rush of husky laughing and Elena’s squeal of delight had his dick doing more than twitching.

He turned to see Kate and Elena in a hard hug. The good doctor was laughing at something Elena said, but all he saw was the tit to tit bouncing and crushing. He looked back to the bartender’s crooked toothed grin. 


“I have a girlfriend named Peggy in the back. She’s a fiery redhead if you want two to play with.” She looked down at his fly, her tongue flicking out. Yeah, she wanted his cock. “I always did want to fuck an American Rockstar.”
The thought of a Kate look alike with the Elena had his dick so hard, he almost turned her over the bar stool right then. “And how much is the fair Peg?”
“She’s worth the price, luv.”


He rounded the bar, taking a last look at the chattering females, his hand already on the bartender’s ass. Elena or Kate first? The names didn’t mean anything. Peg stood in the doorway, her skirt barely covering her generous hips. Wild red hair and an off the shoulder shirt showed creamy Irish skin.
Oh yeah. Names didn’t matter. 


~~


Kate tried to shake off the dark vibe in the bar, her lip not quite able to stop its sneer when she spotted Alec with a pair of girls, heading for the back. His creepy smile didn’t meet the woman’s eyes—zeroing in on her chest instead. Not that she left much to the imagination. Cripes, she could see the outline of a nipple from where she stood. 


God, right out in the open? 
The thought was forgotten when Jon pushed through the small crowd gathered around him. Her smile widened as he schmoozed his way over to her. Elena leaned on her shoulder, her mouth going a mile a minute, Richie’s smile indulgent as he sipped on his beer. Impatient as yet another couple and scattering of women held him back. 


It had been months. She just wanted to touch him—smell him, something that wasn’t the hospital antiseptic she was so used to. She slid away from Elena. 


Richie snagged her hand, tucking it with his into the warmth of his leather jacket. “C’mon darlin’ you can see her in a minute. Obviously she wants a—“ he laughed as the normally calm, rational, Kate threw herself into Jon’s arms in the middle of a bunch of twittering fans.


“There she goes,” he said, dragging Elena onto his lap.


She snuggled into Richie's lap and started to laugh. "Yeah, I sure hope Moptop can walk straight tomorrow. " She watched as Jon and Kate both faded into a less crowded corner. "Of course, I won't bet on that."


"Who are you kidding?" Richie's thumb drew slow circles on her lower back. "I plan on making sure you walk with a limp tomorrow."


She leaned in and planted a kiss on his chin. "Hasn't happened yet, but I won't complain while you keep trying Pony." 


"Is that a challenge, wife?" he growled.


She wiggled slightly as she leaned in. "sure is, I know you love a good challenge." 


Hefting her up over his shoulder, he laughed as she shrieked, grabbing the back of her skirt before it lifted above her hips. "I need to go show my wife who's the sex bomb."


"God, do you need to explain it to the room at large," David said with a whine. "Some of us didn't get to bring our wives on tour this time."


"Some of us haven't managed to scare a lady into marrying them yet..." Her hands lifted to push her hair from her face, her head lifting slightly as she stuck her tongue out. "and some are just ..."


Dave waved. "You kids don't have too much fun. It's a jungle out there for..." he trailed off as a sassy little Irish lass dumped herself unceremoniously on his lap. "Us single men. Hi there." Warm and willing, she even brought a beer with her. 


Richie slapped a hand on Elena's ass. "I don't know the last time we did this, but I wanna go play backstage."


Her hands tippy-toed down along his spine to his ass as she grinned, "Well whatcha waiting for.. get ta walking."


His cock already swelled with the thought of his wife wrapped around him. It never got old between them. Each night during the studio sessions, they'd fallen in a routine...one that he loved. Dinner and some playtime or playtime first, followed by naked dinner--that was his personal favorite--but ever since they'd gotten back into the tour mode, they'd lost some of their alone time, but not the need. 


He rounded the corner until he found the stock room. "Now, what was that about walking?"


She watched his ass as he walked, the need for him rising like the oceans tide. Loving him, needing him, never got old, even when they were surrounded by the dozens it took to put on a show. "Oh I dunno, someone thinks they can make me walk crooked."


Alec stood in the corner, the redhead was giving him the blow job of all blow jobs while the little bartender cut him a line on her handy little mirror. Leaning down, he rolled a fifty into a straw and took his hit. 


The quick hit to the system, wobbled his erection, so he jammed it deeper down the redhead's throat to keep it stiff. She gave a muffled choking sound, but like a good whore, she kept sucking. 


Richie snuck into the back room, his awareness only on Elena. He didn't notice him along the back of the room. They made a beeline for the little storage room, the door not quite clicked behind him as he pushed her against a bag of potatoes. 


His hard on swelled hot and hard as Richie flipped up her little skirt. His long fingers stroked her. The soft, mewling cries as he pleasured her, only increased his stroke. Turning to the Elena look-alike, he dragged her up onto the tattered couch until she knelt before him.


"Want some of my pussy?" she asked over her shoulder, smiling her crooked toothed smile. 


"Turn around and lift up, I wanna fuck." He said darkly. He didn't want to look at her inferior face. Not when Elena was right there, so close. He'd just have to push Richie out of the way. One quick flick of a wrist, he could have Richie taken out of the picture. Elena would be all his. 


Again.


He slammed into the stretched out female before him as Richie rode Elena. He pictured Elena on her knees before him, not the bartender. The perfect lines of Elena and her beautiful ass. The way she would wiggle and push back on him. The harsh cries of the whore in front of him didn't stop Richie from taking her. 

Didn't stop Elena from leaning her head back on his shoulder as he took her standing up, his hands on her hips as he controlled the stroke. 


Alec grabbed the dark haired woman's hair, then an arm until it was twisted back. She grunted and tried to fight him, but the coke gave him strength. He slapped at her hard with each stroke until he felt her quiver around him. Grabbing her shoulders until she leaned forward and didn't block his view, he rammed her. 


And wanted it to be Elena.