Fired for Missy Lanta – An Erotic Story

5/5 - (10 votes)


“Here’s your pay!” Dennis shoved a fist full of dollars into my chest. “And now our business partnership is officially terminated. Don’t ever contact us again.”  

fired for missy lanta erotic story

His eyes lit up with the fury of Hell. It could have been his embarrassment from one helluva night. Honestly it didn’t matter to me.  

Dennis boarded the bus and the diesel engine puffed out its sooty exhaust at him. The rear wheels also kicked rocks on my rattlesnake skin boots, as if to add insult. Yes, the same diamondbacks.

I stood by the roadside until the brake lights vanished at a bend on Highway 84. The band abandoned me and my saxophone, leaving us in Texas’s wasteland. That was it. It was done. As fast as rock n’ roll came, it was gone.

Although I was the only one under the yellow moon my shoulders didn’t drop in the least. Yes, it was difficult. It was tough. Nothing I couldn’t weather though. And holy shit! It was Missy Lanta. All the retribution she received for her sins against the group was worth it. I’d do it over and over again. No second thought.

Standing on the highway on that warm night, I couldn’t hold back a light chuckle. I felt a convulsion of laughter and was soon bent over, laughing out loud, and my side began to hurt. I thought of Dennis enraged, of the band’s hatred for me, of the curses hurdled at me, of the names shouted from the bus. My convulsions and laughter brought me to my knees. Despite everything, rock n’ roll— no doubt, rock n’ roll! —I was proud. Proud as hell.  

So I grabbed my bag and started walking toward Waco. I walked with a smile, a slight ache in my side, and a long, hard walk ahead.

###

The band was heading out on a South tour. There were gigs in Vicksburg and Shreveport. We also had dates in Fort Worth, Dallas, and Shreveport. We went on to Waco, Midland and Albuquerque, before finally reaching Tucson. We hired backup singers as well as a stand-in player for the bass. Ricky, our regular bassist, had fractured his arm in a drunken brawl and was forced to leave.

Missy Lanta was born in Jackson, Mississippi. She auditioned for bass guitar and I was the first time that she appeared before me. She wore a pair blue jeans with painted-on stripes. Her slim figure was displayed. Lovely. Dennis saw her first and knew that she could hold the bass upside down to complete the job. A tight body and a natural smile are things that can’t be taught, dubbed over or muted.

Dennis paid her full attention and played favorites. Yeah, but who hasn’t played favorites, right? My sweetheart is my sax. The road over a house. Dennis was no exception. Except people hate it when they’re getting the raw end. We were both getting that end, me and the band.

It wasn’t so much that we were ticked about Dennis treating Missy as he did. No man would ever treat Missy as beautiful as she was. Dennis, however, refused to fulfill his duties as tour director. We were not impressed. Scheduling fell behind, and the organization was thrown off track. He didn’t contact venues about sound checks and set times. We reached the joints last minute. That was it. Dennis took our lodgings in a small place outside Shreveport. Red Chute is the name of the town. It should be easy to remember, because that’s where rock n’ roll slipped into my room.

Dennis would often have the band stay at Holiday Inns while on tour. The breakfasts were good. The staff often forgot to make the coffee and eggs, as we arrived early and had already slept in. But when we got to Red Chute, the Holiday Inn reservation wasn’t there and the place was packed. We ended up staying at the I-20 Motel. It was terrible! It claimed that each room had an RCA color television. Seriously, that’s what the sign said. Dennis dumped us in the hole for two nights. Dennis was beaten by the band.

I was sitting in my room that night because I had given extra money to the front desk for cable TV. Although the picture was decent, it was slightly distorted by blue.

I was surprised by a soft knock at the door. It turned out Missy Lanta was at the other end.

“Your TV working?” she asked without a hello. She slipped past me before I could say yes. There was a strong smell of spicy. It smelled delicious. Before she settled on the chair next to my bed, her eyes moved down mine. 

“Your set broke?” I asked, a bit befuddled at her showing up.

“Damn rabbit ears can’t pick up anything. That’s all there is to it. This is a terrible place. Where did Dennis take us?”

I just smiled. Dennis hadn’t lost his mind as a manager until just recently, I wanted to tell her. But I decided against it. Instead, I decided to get up on the bed and found the warm spot where I was sitting.

“Wanting to watch a particular show?” I asked.

“Just something. What were you watching?”

She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to know. She slipped in quickly and took the remote control. Then she hit the return key. The TV screen instantly returned to the channel that I had been watching. A wide pay-per-view screen. A girl was complaining to some generic, cheesy background tunes.

“Seriously?” Missy hooted and covered her mouth. Moments later, she was on her knees laughing and fell to her knees. “Were you just …”

Her eyes looked down at me, descending to my lap. I sat down in the middle the queen-sized bed, embarrased to the nth degree.

Missy, with laughter-red eyes, asked, “She got you all hornied up?”

I tried to deflect. “It’s the music. There’s a great sax solo. Maybe it’ll come on again.”

It is unlikely that this line would work. I couldn’t even think of it. It is better to admit the obvious.

“At least, She It will happen again. Probably faking it though.”

Missy moving to the edge, near the TV set was what struck me. She tried to view the waves on the screen.

“Like titties? She’s got some big ones.”

I choked and gulped. My scalp was tinged with embarrassment.

Missy shouted loudly and then she ye-hawled. “Or do you like a big ass? This girl’s got curves.” Her eyes didn’t leave the TV screen.

I tried to avoid answering her questions. “How can you see so good?”

Missy looked at me from across her narrow shoulder. “As good as you can, and she’s gettin’ you off.”

Her eyes set on my bulge that I didn’t want to appear so obvious.

“You needin’ a little release?” She arched an eyebrow and then walked her fingers on the bed, like they were spider legs.

I thought I would be cooler under this pressure, that I’d know how to handle being caught, especially by a woman, a lovely woman, a lovely woman who didn’t come unhinged at seeing a man alone. I wasn’t prepared though. I fell silent.

“I will let you finish what you need to finish.” She stood and walked backward to the door. “Go ahead, have some fun.”

And she went.

It was for the best and for the worse. Missy loved to flirt and tease when we were together. On stage, she’d get my attention and shake her ass. Her shaking was a little more energetic than the music. Let me be clear, I’m not complaining. During a show in Dallas, she turned toward me to stroke her guitar’s neck with a tight grip and grimacing as if getting off on stage. I returned the favor by flirting with her during and after shows. Soon, the band was asking me questions about her and even pushing me. Dennis was sure to have heard about us, and he kept his eyes open.

Dennis requested that we stay in the Rodeway Inn at the north end of town for the two shows in Waco. Everyone was happy. All rooms were equipped with free cable TV and some premium channels. We had all the channels, but there was also a bar. Bars beat boob tubes, you know.

I bumped into Missy at the motel’s dim lounge. She and I flirted up close and tested each other’s wares. I tried to figure out what was going on inside her mind. Is she still teasing me? We laughed and neededling, allowing the beers to do their job of encouraging us. That is until who came along? Yep, him. Dennis sat on Missy’s opposite side of the table. It was over. All gone. It was time to move on. I wrote a number on my damp Coors Light Coaster. I lifted her cup and placed it under.

Girls were dancing on my room’s TV, in vivid color this time, and making me high. In case you believe the hype, rock n’ roll isn’t all hot babes and hard drinking, that is unless you’re playing stadium rock concerts. We weren’t. Sometimes, rock n’ roll only lets you fantasize. This is a shame.

But there was a knock at my door. It was a real knock. Not a rock n’ roll fantasy. I switched channels, and then went to the door.

“Who is it?” I didn’t want to open it to find our drummer, Mick, who’s always pranking. Don’t think he outgrew seventh grade.

“Let me in.”

Missy Lanta

“You the big bad wolf or something?” I asked.

“Come on, let me in. Or I’ll blow your house down,” she said and pounded on the door.

Is that what she meant to say? I didn’t know how to figure it out. The phrase sped up my pulse instantly, and the vein in my temple thumped. My jeans immediately tightened after hearing her words.

I opened the door, and Missy ran past me as if it was a familiar scene. She was wearing a white t-shirt with her breasts moving and a black, skimpy skirt.

“What’s happening?” I asked. 

“I need a break and so do you.”

“Me? A break from what?”

Missy grabbed her remote control and tried again. She pressed the button again to switch to the channel she was currently watching. There were the girls.

She turned to face me and raised her eyebrows before she tossed the remote onto the bed. “This is why.”

I felt the same sensation of grabbing my throat with a gulp. My cheeks were red-heated by the heat. I was able to answer just one question. “Huh?”

By me, she sat down on the bed, relaxed. The nude girls and blatant sex on TV didn’t bother her. It was quite the opposite. Her breathing became deeper. On intense scenes, she crossed her legs and would rub her thighs with one hand. I noticed it most when a woman’s tits were being sucked. Can’t ever complain about that.

I poked her again before she moved on and got smacked. “You came to my room to watch naked girls?”

She smiled at me and turned her head. “No, I want to watch you watch these girls.”

Did you notice my tightened throat? It tightened even more. Almost strangling. I had to struggle to temper my breathing, to regain my sensibilities because of Missy’s advances.

She moved quickly from the bed to the chair by the side. I could have been manipulated by her eyes only.

“Get going,” she said flippantly as if I was waiting for her order. “I want to see you jerk off.”

When I heard that, my hard cock was released and I unzipped. The excitement was already evident on its head. I grasped it and began to stroke slowly up and down. My hand was cold compared to my cock’s boiling temperature.

She then shocked me. “Oh shit, that looks so good. I needed to see a real dick.”

Missy Lanta was all that captured my attention. The girls on TV didn’t interest me. I’d forgotten them already. The salacious woman stared at me, jerking up-and-down. She was obviously already hunky, ready for anything and always willing to work up.

But she stopped me. “Let me do one thing.” Her eyes asked permission. I consented by not objecting.

So she crawled up the bed, her face directly above my cock. She stared at me boldly. My waist was covered in her black hair, with a few strands of it brushing against my sensitive dick. Then, a coolness struck the tip. She had drizzled her saliva onto it, from just inches— centimeters!—above.

I smiled at her, knowing that this simple act had changed my mind. Then her greatest words: “Use that to help you.”

Missy Lanta made me crazy. I was ready to reach my peak right that moment. I watched her return to the chair while she remained focused on me. I stroked her and enjoyed her personal lubricant.

When her feet touched my rattlesnake skin boots, I stopped moving my fingers. Yes, those are diamondbacks. She sank down into the chair and raised her black skirt so that it revealed more of her thighs. Next, she raised one foot and placed it on top of the bed. She then placed the other foot on the edge of bed, so that I could see her clean-shaven sex.

“Keep going,” she directed.

She must have noticed that I had a diverted mind.

“Get a little bit faster now? That’s right. Keep touching my cock, making it nice and hard.”

She reached between her legs. “Oh my god, you got my pussy so wet.”

That was it. She wasn’t going to see my hand any longer. She would feel my hands. I climbed onto the bed and placed my hands between her feet.

“What are you doing?” she squealed playfully.

I lifted her onto my bed and placed her flat on my back. Her dark hair was still visible on her bright, edgy face. I lifted the boots above my ears and shoved her into her welcoming pussy.

My shoulders were scraped by her fingernails, and she thrust the first deep thrust at my biceps.

“Yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” she repeated. She shouted louder and louder, until it was almost impossible to hear her. She could be heard echoing through the room, or perhaps into the hallway. I blasted her hard and fast. 

“Are you ready to cum for me, baby?” she prodded. “Go ahead, cum for me right now, fast.”

Before I could unload, her neck tightened and her face winced. Those nails were digging deep into my arms. I followed her climax, shooting into her, jolts upon jolts till I was deflated.

“Girls on the TV aren’t good enough, are they?” She winked. “Nothing as good as a real tight pussy.”

I smiled, still relaxing my body and enjoying the last seconds of pleasure. She was right. It was the best thing I have ever heard.

The next morning, I woke up beside her in bed. She cuddled me. Her genitals were pressing against my morning hardness. But it wasn’t a happy morning. Someone was yelling for Missy Lanta and banging on the doors. Dennis.

###

This was it. Despite the long journey to Waco, it was a satisfying ending. She thoroughly enjoyed the evening. I know I did. Even my boots were a different kind of appealing.

I wasn’t sure if Dennis kept Missy Lanta or fired her. At the moment, I hope to see Missy again. Rock n’ roll may be kind. Missy and I did it proud.




Source link

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.