Page 36 of Backstage

They’re a force of nature, there’s no pause, not even between songs. The show never has a dead moment, and the delirium behind me doesn’t go away for a second. I’ve been jumping and singing for so long without taking a decent breath, that at some point, I have to stop and take a few deep ones so I don’t faint. The adrenaline circulating in my veins creates a state of constant tension that makes my stomach and soul vibrate. It is pure, vivid, and primal excitement.

When Damian sings the first notes of “Sex on the Beach”, another roar surges from the crowd. The song is fast, sexy, and his hoarse voice makes you feel like you’re the one having sex on the beach with him. He looks in my direction, almost as if this was a private concert between him and me. His gaze finds mine and a thrill runs through my back when the words, “lying on the sand I feed on your moans, your sighs, your pleasure,” slip from his lips. I am chained to his eyes, and the sensual way he sings feels like he’s moving all over my body, including inside me, to an animalistic rhythm. I push my glasses up on my nose, and his voice turns into a sexy guttural groan to die for. At the end of the song, I’m gasping with excitement, and it takes a few seconds before we both come back to reality and realize that there’s an entire arena full of people around us.

“I must say that was...intense.” Luke’s voice makes me look away from the stage where Damian is continuing the show.

“Really?” My trembling voice betrays the will to appear detached.

Luke raises an eyebrow making me realize he doesn’t believe my naive attitude. “The waves of testosterone from that stage just about pushed me to the ground.”

“Oh, shut up! It was just for show.”

“Lil, if sex could mark a person’s possession, you’d have ‘Damian’ stamped on your ass right now.” He laughs out loud.

I look down, blushing partly because of his comment, partially because I’m shamefully turned on.

The concert is impressive, to say the least, and for the last part we move next to the stage, where the guys will be out in less than a minute to wipe off the sweat, drink some water and head back on for the last two songs. The energy they transmit is like electricity. It flows under my skin, in my veins, like an adrenaline rush that makes me tremble excitedly. I’ve been to many shows, but none as exciting as this one. Maybe because we know them by now, or because we will have to open for them in a few days, but the feeling is out of this world.

The first to leave the stage is Simon, followed by Michael, Damian, and finally Thomas. The space back here is narrow and full of people who take care of their needs, handing out towels and water bottles already opened. Timing is tight and here, as on stage, it’s a set of well-oiled gears that work flawlessly to keep the show flowing. I move slightly to the side, where technicians set the big crates that the equipment gets stored in. I don’t want to get in the way, and from here, I still have a view of what is happening.

The excitement I feel makes me snap at any physical contact; the sexual charge that hasn’t left me since “Sex on the Beach” will soon become frustration if I don’t ease the tension between my legs. Damian seems to be looking for someone and, when he spots me, he slips away without too much notice, grabs my hand, and, to my surprise, throws me, almost literally, into a dark corner hidden between the cases and the wall.

Everything happens so fast that I don’t register it. Damian standing in front of me with his sculpted and sweaty physique inside that torn black T-shirt takes my breath away. He puts his hands on the sides of my head, lowers himself to look me straight in the eyes, and squeezes me with a smoldering look I’ve never seen before. Lust permeates his gaze until it melts me. His mouth approaches slowly, very slowly until it reaches my ear.

“If you pull your glasses up again in such a sexy way during one of my concerts, I swear I’ll get off the stage and fuck you in front of twenty thousand people.” His hoarse, excited voice makes me wet instantly. If I weren’t wholly paralyzed and oxygen-deprived, my hormones would have already taken over, laid him on the floor and stripped him naked, venting my sexual frustration that in the last few minutes has become unbearable. Instead, I stand here, unable to formulate a coherent thought.

Am I really sexy with these glasses on? That explains why I took it almost as a personal offense when Sid makes me wear contact lenses for the shows. “It’ll happen again,” I whisper, barely able to find my voice.

He pulls back just enough to look me straight in the eye, and the desire I read tells me he’s one step away from ripping my pants off here, in the corner of the stage where anyone could peek in and see us. Jesus Christ, how I wish he would have his way and give me that orgasm that’s been mounting since the beginning of this damn concert. I think back to my words in a flash of lucidity, and I can feel myself warming up.

“It won’t happen...I mean, it won’t happen again, sorry,” I stammer confusedly.

Just him leaning his chest against my breasts almost makes me cum. His hands leave the wall behind me and sink firmly into my hips, drawing me to his erection. “That’s a shame, because I can’t wait for an excuse to sink between your thighs and make you scream my name in ecstasy.”

Oh, baby Jesus! Why the hell are we still back here and not on a tour bus fucking like there’s no tomorrow? Is it even legal to set a woman on fire with desire like this? Because in my opinion, Damian should be handcuffed...maybe to a bed. I raise my hands and cling to his shirt in a desperate gesture, drawing him even closer to me. My brain is high on hormones and that serotonin the guy holding me hostage likes so much.

Damian takes his hands off my hips, moves away just enough to look at me and smile mischievously, and then he turns around and goes back to where he came from. The roar of the crowd tells me they’ve gone on stage again, but I just stand there, motionless in a bundle of nerves and excitement, hormones chasing each other wildly. What the hell just happened? My legs are jelly, and I slide down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor.

How the hell do I go back to watching the last two songs and act like nothing happened? Right now, the only thing I want is to baptize every backstage surface with the imprint of our naked and sweaty bodies intoxicated by the intense pleasure of orgasm. Sex so wild we can write songs about it for the next ten years. Dirty ones that make little girls blush as they listen with their earphones on the street, heading to see their boyfriends.

Breathing deeply doesn’t help me regain my cool demeanor, and I look like a shipwreck at the mercy of the waves as I stagger towards my friends.

“Where the hell have you been? I thought you got bored and went back on the bus,” Martin asks me with a wrinkled forehead.

Nothing further from reality. “I was in the bathroom,” I lie with a shaking voice.

“Doing what, exactly? Because it looks like you just got laid,” he smiles amusedly.

I roll my eyes at him, pretending that his innuendo doesn’t even deserve an answer, but I actually feel like I’ve just had a taste of Damian the rock star. If that’s just a prelude, I have to say the reputation he’s built has a rock-solid foundation.

She just stood there staring at me, like a deer caught in the headlights. Jesus Christ, what was I thinking, saying those things? I’ve got to work with her, for Christ’s sake. I can’t sleep with her and then dump her. It’ll make for a shitty rest of the tour. I roll in my bed, the bus has already stopped for a couple of hours in the parking lot near tonight’s venue, but I haven’t dared to set foot out of my room yet, even if I only slept a few hours last night. I look down and notice the erection pushing the sheet.

“God, it looks like a circus tent,” I murmur as I pass my hand over my face and sigh.

If I keep going like this, I’ll get calluses on my hand and my balls will explode. I have to find a solution soon. The little guy between my legs is pulsing and moving all over the place in excitement imagining Lilly moving like crazy over me and shouting my name.

“No, that’s not an option.”

I’m at the point where I’m now talking to my penis. This is ridiculous. I feel like a maniac. Right now, all it would take is Loretta and her red hair to please me and get the girl who’s been invading my thoughts for days out of my head.

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