Raping Other Men’s Wives #1 – Katy

I raped Katy at a block party in Chicago.

I play in a Pink Floyd tribute band, and a friend of mine, Derek, begged me to have us play at their 4th of July block party. Our regular gig for the 4th cancelled at the last minute; some fuck up with the permit…that’s Chicago…probably skipped greasing the wrong palm. We still got paid because the cancellation fell after the deadline. But fuck, this was my favorite gig each year. Playing Floyd on the beach of Lake Michigan with the fireworks going off behind us, pure gasm. Not to mention the plethora of pussy thrown at us at that event was sick. Fuck.

We were available, so I said, “Look, I’d play for free, but the rest of the band won’t do it”

“How much do you need?” He asked.

“$200 a man, times 6. You think your neighbors can pony up?”

“Fuck that, I’ll cut you a check right now.” We were booked.

I called the bandmates and asked them for a solid. Since we got paid for a gig that we weren’t doing, would they mind playing the block party for free. Of course, they were good with it, it’s my fucking band. I pocketed my buddy’s check.

I have to say I was impressed with the layout of the party. They let us pull the vans through the barricade and we rolled up the street lined by million dollar brownstones and ancient maple trees. I saw my buddy sitting on the apron of the stage beaming ear to ear. I threw the beast in park and hopped out.

“Will this work?” Derek said, laughing at my surprise as I walked to him. It was a professional-grade bandstand, complete with a proscenium scaffold hung with lights.

“Holy fuck,” I quipped, “who sprung for all this shit?”

“I did! I rented a sound and lighting crew too.” I knew my buddy had money, but this had to set him back 4 or 5 large all in. I decided right then I would have to hang with this motherfucker a little more often.

“It’s perfect dude. This is gonna be insane.” I said, looking back to see my guys breaking out the gear, all smiles.

“Hey, I want you to meet Mark, my nextdoor neighbor.” My buddy said as I saw this short, stocky geek in his late 20’s walking up to shake my hand.

“Mucho gusto, Mark. I’m Tom.” I smiled

“Cool. Looking forward to hearing your band.” Mark replied, looking more than a little sheepishly.

Derek piped up. “Mark plays.”

Dear readers, anyone who plays in a band will tell you that it is inevitable, no matter where you play out, there is always someone who “plays,” and they have one heart’s desire, to sit in and fuck your rhythm up beyond all recognition. Me and the guys rehearse endlessly to get the sound just right. Please remember that. Don’t ask.

“He’s a bit of a Floyd freak, too. Maybe he could sit in for a song or two?” At least Mark didn’t ask. The guy who put $1200 bucks in my pocket and sprung for a whole road crew did.

“What do you play, Mark?” I asked, my asshole twitching.

“I have my acoustic.” He offered earnestly, like we might not have one with us and he’d be doing us a BIG favor.

“Cool,” I lied. “Let us get the first set. We can do “Mother” and “Wish You Were Here,” in the second set.” I thought he was going to shit his pants as I said this. “You know those songs?”

“Fuck yes!” He nearly dabbed. “Thank you, Mark!” I swear to God he was near tears. Jesus, I might have missed out on all the pussy at the beach tonight, but I could probably get this guy to blow me if I really wanted to. Depending on how lit I get, I just might.

“Okay, guys, that’s a deal. Let me go, so I can get my rig set up.” They nodded and split. I climbed the steps to the stage and grabbed a beer out of the cooler that been set up for us. First class, for a block party. First class.

We started the first set, just after the sun went down. There must have been a couple thousand people packing the street in front of the bandstand when I cranked up my Fender with the opening riff of “Run Like Hell.” Fireworks shot off from all directions. The lighting guy was the shit and he was surprising me with specials and lasers. The sound crew knew what they were doing too, we sounded and looked great. I lost myself in the Floyd for nearly an hour before we took our first break. The crowd roared with applause.

I was drenched in sweat because it was so fucking hot, of course, I fought that by chain-drinking Coronas, so I had a good buzz going when I stepped down off the stage. I wandered off to the side of the street, everyone I made eye-contact with was smiling, nodding giving me the thumbs up. They were enjoying the show. As I neared the sidewalk, I saw Derek, my new best friend, Mark and some incredibly hot blond chick lined up on the grass in lawn chairs. Mark had his acoustic laying across his lap. All three got up on their feet as I approached.

“Sick solo on “PIgs!” Mark gushed. “You guys kick ass!”

“You like?” I looked at Derek.

“Seriously, Tom, your band is amazing.” Derek replied, “I’ll be hearing about this from my neighbors for months. You’re making me look real good about now.”

“Thanks, Derek.” I looked at the blond. She’s in her mid-twenties and taller than she looked sitting down, maybe 5’9″ with a thin build, small tits, but thick nipples pushing out from beneath her t-shirt.