His Fall: A Rockstar Romance

Tyler

Tuesday, May 3rd, 2016. - Velvet Sugar Exotic Dancing, Los Angeles, California- 9:30 PM.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. After being on the road for 7 months with the band, I should be exhausted. That's not the case. I'm vibrating with excitement, like I just snorted a line of coke. Finally, after two years of writing, recording, and arguments, Riot was born. It's a personal project that my two childhood friends Victor Aimes, Rio Mendez, and I created. We held auditions for a backup vocalist/rhythmic guitar player and a second electric guitarist. Tony Kent became the vocalist, and Paul Jones became the bassist.

Being too stubborn, I refused my father's connections. He was a big rock star in the 1980s, but retired after getting married and having me. He and his bandmate, Chris "Crimson" Aimes, got together with Alfonzo Mendez, Rio's uncle, and created Chaos Records. If I accepted his help, I could've had sponsors and promotions out the ass. The guys and I decided to do it alone. No special favors. And it worked!

Riot's first tour was a booming success. We received more offers for radio interviews, talk show appearances, magazine spreads, and product sponsorships than we ever could have imagined. It seems like everyone wants a piece of us. More specifically, a piece of Victor and me. We were already well-known as the children of famous rock stars, but add our newfound fame to that? Forget about it. Now we have twice as much media attention. Barely off the plane, and I'm already at my social interaction limit.

Which is why Victor invited me out. He knew I would need some stress relief after everything. We agreed to meet at Velvet Sugar. It's a gentlemen's club we frequent while in L.A. We've gone there so often, since high school, I think, the owner and bouncers know us by name. The ladies are neutral until we start throwing money, then they climb all over us.

I navigate through the expensive, tastefully furnished den of sin. Looking for any sign of Victor. I'm all for chilling with my best friend, slamming drinks, and entertaining chicks, but if I can't find him, I might as well find someone to keep me company. Slowly, I move through the crowds toward the bar and order a shot of vodka. And although I'm in a hoodie and sunglasses, the bartender knows who I am. Everyone does.

A text interrupts my annoyance.

Victor: Hey, man, where are you?

I huff in response. It's not like he gave me instructions on where to meet him.

I text a reply: I'm here, over by the bar. Black hoodie, sunglasses.

Almost immediately, he replies: Bro, you look fuckin' stupid!

Chuckling, I text back: Where are you?

Over the thumping music, I hear a loud whistle. It's not too far from where I am. Looking around, I find Victor in a black see-through muscle shirt and black leather pants, flailing his arms back and forth. Like the idiot he is. With no hesitation, I slam my shot, then meet up with my partner in crime. Off to indulge in another night full of sin.

Victor looks the same as always: never in any disguise. He loves the extra attention. His black hair is shaggy, but not unkempt, and he has wide, expressive hazel eyes that hypnotize most chicks. All of them kneel before him without having to receive an order. I swear he could be a Dom if he wanted to. He said it's not his style, he just enjoys women falling at his feet. Begging for his cock.

When I reach him, he pulls me into a tight hug. As if we haven't spent nearly every day for the last fifteen years together.

"Glad you came, I know you're tired," Victor shouts over the music, guiding me behind the black beaded curtains.

"Wouldn't miss this for anything in the world," I say with a grin. He said he had a surprise, but not what it was. But, knowing him, it will be a lot of chicks and booze.

Victor is silent as he leads me through a narrow, well-lit corridor. Along the walls, there are pictures of the lovely ladies who work here, semi-nude, and posing seductively. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a Private show booth halfway open. Inside is Paul sitting on a leather chair with a shapely woman in nothing but an electric blue thong grinding on him. He notices me and tips his beer at me with a sheepish grin. I nod, leaving him alone. Better let him enjoy himself. He hardly lets loose like that.

"The other guys coming too?" I ask Victor, not remembering the last time we all went out to a club together.

"Nah, you know this ain't Rio's scene. He's too "responsible", remember?" Victor says with a scoff. I nod, vaguely recalling a fight the two of them had over our behavior on tour. He stated he felt like the only "adult" present. It's not his fault, though. Alonzo raised him very... different compared to us.

Victor continues. "And this place is to...vanilla for Tony's tastes." I don't judge. My bandmates' sex lives are their own. Hell, mine is prolific, messy, and full of experimentation. Tony has very singular tastes that are usually private. That is, until we walked in on him with a chick zip-tied to a table while choking her. I can't unsee that shit.

We come to a VIP room. It's guarded by a tall, muscular, bald man in a black SECURITY t-shirt. He moves aside when he notices who I'm with. "Welcome back, Mr. Aimes. The girls are waiting for you."

Victor chuckles, yanking the door wide open. A squeal of excitement erupts.

"Daddy's back!" He announces, leaping onto the black leather couch covered in topless exotic dancers. Two pasty blondes in pink thongs grab my ass while a curvy, busty African American woman massages my shoulders. My body melts at her touch.

Victor motorboats a curvy Hispanic woman in a purple G-string while a skinny red head rubs his crotch.

"Mm..." I moan deeply, closing my eyes without realizing it. It's been a while since I've relaxed like this.

Victor pulls his face away from his 'friends' long enough to say, "It's good to be home, eh, brother?"He noisily suckles on her nipples as she cries out in pleasure. He trails his tongue down her stomach, eventually reaching the apex of her thighs.

I slump down in a chair, unaware that my pants are being removed by the blondes. This sends blood rushing to my already stirring cock.

"I thought you might like a warm welcome, baby." A deep, sultry voice purrs from behind the couch.

My cock twitches, and my eyes pop open. Victor flips over in curiosity; his face nestled between the dancers' legs.

A tall, busty redhead wearing black stilettos and a black mini dress steps over the couch with ease. "Hi, Vic." She purrs, pushing him down on the couch, stradling his waist. They kiss deeply while the Hispanic lady slides her hand up the redhead's thigh.

Victor breaks their kiss slightly, lips still grazing, and murmurs, "Thanks for helping set this up. I missed you so much." He trails his fingers under her dress, stroking her slowly. "Mmm, you missed me, too."

She nods, grinding her hips against his fingers, while guiding the dancer's hand to her breast. Her eyes meet mine for a moment. They are an intense shade of hazel with a spark of mischief and lust in them. A wicked smile spread across her lips.

This chick is the right kind of trouble.

"I'm Regina. I manage the girls here, but I also work in fashion. I met Victor on the road in New York." She reaches her hand out to me. "Enough of that... you can call me Red. Anyone I'm acquainted with does."

I shake her hand, but before I can speak, a hot mouth sheathes my cock. Bobbing up and down with enthusiasm. Another one suckles on my balls eagerly. "T-Tyler, pleasure to meet you."

Victor groans, yanking her mini dress off. "We share if you're interested. Tasting and touching, no kissing or fucking. Those are for me. Understand?"

"M-My hands are full...maybe next time?" I pant, thrusting my cock deeply into the blonde's mouth.

Red pushes Victor onto his back and straddles his face. Grinding her hips back and forth quickly. The dancer pushes his pants down and starts sucking his cock.

The situation would make many people uncomfortable. Not me. Victor and I have been having sex near or in the same setting for years. This resulted in many threesomes or group play experiments. Because of this, I realized I was straight. Thank fuck for that.

The next few hours pass in a sex-fueled haze. Except for Victor and me, everyone played with or fucked one another. I did take Victor on his offer, licking Red’s pussy as she rode him cowgirl style. She came all over my face. It was incredible. A true stress reliever. Eventually, we all collapsed in a pile. Limbs and clothing tangled around everyone.

Victor woke up first, shifting Red off his chest. "Ah, forgot something!" He jumps over the couch stark naked and retrieves a bottle of whiskey. The good kind. Then he grabs some glasses from a table in the corner. He plops back on the couch. "We need to toast!"

I groan, pushing the trio of women off me. "What for?"

He pours each of us a glass. "For blowing it out of the fucking water! We did it, man!" Victor claps my shoulder. "We made our own thing without having help. That's what we're toasting!"

Chuckling, I nod in agreement. He's right, we worked our asses off to make Riot a thing. And it took off like a fucking rocket! I accept the glass and say, "To wicked times for a wicked life!"

Victo shouts. "Amen to that!" We gulp the drink down, reveling in the delightful burn down our throats. Then he says, "I love you, man."

I smile, clapping his shoulder before saying, "Love you too."

Little did I know, things would spiral into a complete shit show after this. Victor and I were strained, and as for the rest... Well, I'll tell you, but it might take a while.

My name is Tyler Rutledge, lead singer and founder of Riot, and this is the story of my downfall.

To be continued...

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This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and incidents are fictitious and the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, organizations, or events are entirely coincidental.

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