This Saturday I was on the Competitive Erotic Fan Fiction show (and Nerdist Network podcast, http://www.nerdist.com/podcast/competitive-erotic-fan-fiction/ ) and I read this sexy story about Omaha ska/funk/punk/hip hoppers 311. Feel free to read it, or subscribe to the podcast and listen to me read in when it comes out.
Look, I’m just a normal girl. There’s nothing too interesting about me. I go to the mall, I think pandas are the cutest animal and I love pancakes. Nothing too exciting, right? That’s what everyone at my high school thinks, but they don’t realize, I have a secret.
It all started with my friend Julie. We’d been bffs since like second grade but as high school started, we began to drift apart. We still loved each other but our lives had just gotten really different. I had buckled down on my school work. I knew I had to if I wanted to get into my dream school, Bowdoin College. Julie had gone in the opposite direction, she’s gotten wild! It seemed like she was in a competition with herself to see how many boys she could give hand jobs to and in how many locations. It started simple like the movie theater during you got served 3D, or in Adam Denadio’s Accura, but soon she was rubbing privates in the photo lab, the computer lab, and according to her admittedly unreliable lab partner Missy O’Brien, in the lab!
I never asked Julie if any of this was true. I couldn’t imagine bringing it up! Even though we didn’t hang out that much anymore, we still talked on the phone almost every night. Sometimes Julie would share some small details of her debaucherous life and I would act shocked and truth be told, I would be shocked! Even though I’d usually already heard details of her getting fingered in various places (once allegedly in the vagina!) it was still weird to hear it from her.
I’d started to wonder what was going to happen when we graduated at the end of the year. Would we still be able to maintain our friendship or would we drift apart forever? That all changes the day before my birthday and two weeks before spring break when Julie showed up at my house with the greatest birthday present I could have imagined. It was tickets for the two of us for the 3-11 cruise!
3-11 was our favorite band and, as we’d drifted apart these last few years, the one remaining anchor of out friendship .
"I can’t believe it!" I said. Julie looked at me and said, "the best part is, that big boat is going to be filled to the brim with boys, and it’s about time you start got some face time with boys, and by that I mean face sucking!" I could feel my cheeks start to burn and my expression must have turned from one of elation to one of horror, because Julie quickly said, "oh relax, you’re going to Bowdoin in less than a year! You really want to go to the biggest party school in southern Maine without ever even having kissed a boy ?"
Two weeks later we were making our way onto the ship . We were surrounded by other fans or as we call ourselves 3-11 truthers.
Later as we played shuffle board on the deck Julie handed me a colorful drink and with the first sip I realized it had alcohol in it! “Julie! We’re under age!” “Shhh! She said, I figured out, that guys with braided goatees are totally cool buying booze for underage girls!”
Two hours later I was alone. After several daiquiris I’d wandered off and both of my contact lenses had fallen out and into the ocean. As I tried to make my way to my room I got increasingly confused by the maze of hallways in the hull of the majestic ship. I stepped backwards and fell through a door. The door slammed shut as I slipped into inky darkness. All was dark and silent until- “Hello?” I jumped with fright, “who-who’s there?” I stammered. I heard a sound of a kitchen match dragging against the striking pad, the match illuminated a face, and even without my contacts, I recognized the face immediately! “Count SA!” I acclaimed, for it was the unmistakable face of 311 vocalist/turntablist Doug “SA” Martinez, next to him stood a towering creature, bassist Aaron “P-Nut” Willis. “What are you doing here?” I paused, “and where are we?” “We’re in the engine room, it’s where Nick makes us stay when we’re not performing.” He said, referring to 311’s leader, the legendary strict Nick Hexum. “Can’t you leave?” “Nope,” SA explained, doors locked from the outside, “AWSSRRRHHH!” Said P-nut. “Calm down, Peeny, that’s no way to talk in front of a lady.” said SA “AWRRRRHHH!” Added the bassist. “That’s more like it,” SA turned his gaze from the P-Nut back to me, “well might as well do something to pass the time. I have an idea, how about making love?” My shock quickly turned to arousal, “ARRRHHHWWW!” Cried the monstrous bass player, “Get in here ya big hairy oaf, I don’t care what you smell” said the count.
Between the large throbbing finger tips of the freakish bass man and the cut honed hands of the tiny DJ my crotch was soon frothy. The duo rubbed up and down on my boobs like they were simultaneously scratching out a hype sample and playing a walking blues line up and down my nipples and cleavage. “AAAAARRHHHHWWW!” Said, p-nut.
By this point things were really heating up, both SA and P-Nut had their shirts off and I was touching the abs of both. “Blow on our chests,” said SA, and I was happy to oblige. Things were getting so hot and sexy now. I’ll bet they both had big floppy boners!
Just then the door to the engine room burst open. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the change of light and realize that the shadowy silhouette was none other the 311 singer/guitarist Nick Hexum. “What kind of mischief have you to gotten all mixed up in?” he spoke in his trademark slinky Omaha drawl. “We were just about to make love.”
“Come on, SA,” said the classically handsome front man, “you know I get first refusal when it comes to making love with Three Hundred Eleven fan.” “But boss,” protested the balding wheels of steeler, “We’re all members of Three Hundred Eleven, and plus, don’t you think it should really be her choice?” All eyes turned to me, I looked into the cocky face of the formerly bleached blond Hexum and then back to the sad lonely eyes of the boyish MC and his beast, I finally spoke “SA, P-Nut, you guys are are amazing, but this is my first time and I want it to be special.”
“You heard her, now get to the furnace and yank on your grassroots until your homebrew shoots into the flames.” shouted Nick, victoriously.
“Aw, Ritz Crackers!” said SAt, “AAAHHRRRWWW!” echoed his monster.
Nick took me into his arms and dipped me like in a waltz or something and then started licking all over my neck and mouth. He took my bra off and exclaimed, “Your breasts are much bigger than they look with a shirt on, much bigger than everyone at school must think!”
I ran my fingers down his rock hard abs and undid his belt buckle. I noticed that it was a large picture of Bob Marley, so cool! He was wearing boxer briefs and he looked just like the a model in a american eagle ad!. I reached inside and pulled his universal pulse from chaos. My breath was hot on his meatiness and he shouted “keep my head in the clouds” as I skillfully manipulated his manhood. As our passions increased we seemed to meld together and float above that engine room, and above the ship and into the sky. “How do you feel?” he whispered, “It’s time to do you right.” 311’s own cover of The Cure’s “Love Song” played on the soundsystem, “Amber is the color of your energy,” he whispered, and then he began to shutter as I felt him cum original inside me.
Later as I recounted my adventure to Julie she was in awe, “I just can’t believe it,” she said! “You’ll be all set for Bowdoin next year, and to think, who would have thought YOU’D lose your virginity before ME!”