Season 2, Episode 8: Dickrider
Synopsis: Chicago is an aspiring rapper who won radio concert tickets to see his favorite rap superstar Tahzir "Tahj" Fareed after a long vetting process and lengthy quiz. After Tahj finishes his set, he returns backstage to spend some time with his number 1 fan.
His locker room was lit up like Jamaica. His boys kept passing a joint in front of me, puffing weed right in my face. The room was filled with about 6 or 7 members from his entourage, a few groupies, and his agent. For most of Tahj's set, his agent was talking on the phone, booking details for the next city they'd play in 2 days. Once he hung up the phone, he looked at me thoughtfully before deciding to walk over.
"Chico, my man," he said, holding that annoyingly clichéd agent voice. "You having a good time?"
"Yeah," I said. It wasn't the truth. Truth be told, this wasn't what I expected at all. When the radio said, one on one time with Tahj, I mistakenly took it literal.
"Great, great," he said, not making eye contact. "Oh... I have this thing for you to sign. It's a confidentiality contract."
"A confidentiality contract?"
"Yeah, bro," he said. "Look around you."
I did. Rappers were known for drugs, but I guess they wouldn't want anyone to know about the huge consumptions of weed or the fact that one of the groupies snorted a line of coke off the kitchen sink. It made enough sense to me. Not that I'd be running to tell anyone anyway. The agent pulled the contract out of his briefcase and pulled an expensive pen out of the suit pocket on his chest.
"Sign everywhere you see a red 'X'," he ordered.
"Should I have had someone else look at this first?- Like a lawyer?"
"Lawyer? Whoa, whoa, whoa... no lawyers, bro," he said, his voice shifting up, his transparency rearing its ugly head. He was hiding something and had no desire to involve lawyers. "Look, you're getting the chance to hang out with one of the number 1 rap stars in the game right now. Why let a few measly signatures hold that up? The guy is well on his way to legend status. We just want to make sure that once he hits that, nothing about this night resurfaces."
I was still very skeptical, and he could see it in my eyes.
"Look, there could be rewards for signing this contract. You said you were a rapper too, right?" the snarky agent said.
"Yeah," I nodded.
"If you slip me that demo in your pocket, I'll make sure Tahj gets it."
I looked up at him. "How did you know I had my demo with me?"
"You want to rap, this is your favorite rapper- you'd be an idiot not to take advantage of what could be your one shot. I can guarantee that if you hand that thing to Tahj tonight, he'll lose it by morning... that is, if he doesn't intentionally throw it out. But if you give it to me, I can make sure he's listening to it when he hits his workout tomorrow."
"Ok," I said. I used the agent's red pen to sign my name three times on three different pages of the ten page contract he handed to me. I took one last breath before I finished signing my name the third time. When I finished, I set the pen down on top of the contract. "So what did all of this say anyway?"
"Basically, it was a bunch of big words to say anything that happens in this room doesn't leave this room."
"Ok," I said. I stood up to pull my CD out of my pocket and hand it to him.
"Tahj should be on his way back to the room since his set just ended. He'll hang out with you for a little bit while he gets ready for the after party."
"Does the backstage pass include an invitation?"
"Depends on the impression you have on Tahj," the agent said while putting my demo into his briefcase along with the contract I'd just signed. After he buckled the suitcase, he turned his attention to the dressing room's other inhabitants. "Alright guys, time to head out to the after-party. Tahj has to spend some one-on-one time with the radio contest winner. He'll meet us all there."
Tahj's agent began gathering everyone in the room to scoot them out. "Come on, come on. Move it on out," he said.
As everyone was leaving, Tahj was coming. He hit them all with a quick greeting as they exited. Tahj entered the dressing room missing his shirt, stopping by his agent and leaning into him.
"He signed the contract," the agent whispered in Tahj's ear.
"Good work," Tahj responded.
"The Bodyguard will stand outside your door until you're done. Just holla if you need him."
Tahj's agent slid past him to leave. He closed the locker room door behind him. Tahj's eyes fell on me. He stood there shirtless with tattoos littered up and down both arms and his pants sagging below the waistband of his boxer shorts. He stood firmly planted on both feet with his arms folded and cocked his head to the side, with a couple of his neck length dreads dangling in front of his right eye.
"You drinkin'?" Tahj said, walking to personal sink counter-top that one of his groupies would just using as a base to snort lines. He had bottles of Patron and Hennessey stationed there.
"Ah, no thanks. I feel like your team has been trying to get me drunk already. Your agent kept pushing drinks in my face while you were performing."
"That's just Spencer. He's aggressive sometimes. But it's good to have him on ya' team. He ain't afraid to jump in and do the dirty work for a nigga."
"I definitely understand that."
Tahj poured himself a drink out of the Patron bottle. "I hope the fellas were good to you."
"It was alright."
"And yo, I'm sorry I couldn't hang out with you before I hit the stage too. I just always like to be secluded before I do a show. I like to clear my mind, you know?- meditate. It helps my flow."
"Don't worry about it. I know you a busy man, G."
"So you my number 1 fan?"
"Well... I'm the fan that won the contest," I said, trying to sound modest.
"But you had to be what?-the 9th caller? And you had to answer 3 questions about me that you wouldn't even know unless you was on my messageboard."
"How you know what questions they asked?"
"Cuz I told them what questions to ask," he said taking another sip out of his glass. "I got tired of fake fans. Niggas that claim to be yo biggest fan, but can't rap 4 bars of any song you did. Especially in big cities.... That's where all the phony motherfuckas hang out. I feel like, if you gon' be hanging with me, then you better deserve to hang with me."
"Damn, that's whassup," I said.
"So, can you do it?"
"Rap 4 bars out of any song that I did?"
"Hell yeah," I said. "Shit, I could do 16."
"Go 'on head then, nigga. Any song you want, it's your choice."
"Ok," I coughed to clear my throat. "Now just because I told you Girl, I love your talents, don't mean that you can get away with actin' all childish, Know my word's true and I never meant no malice, And you be goin' crazy, baby girl you so imbalanced. My love, I want you but I can't take your mentals, bustin' all my windows, slashing tires out my rental, this ain't want I thought it'd be, I wanted something simple, An occasional down chick that'd let me buss one on her dentals."
"Damn," he said in response. "You knew that joint?"
I recited a lyric from the song "5150" from his very first mixtape.
"Yeah," I laughed. "I always wanted an HQ version of that song without the DJ shouting on it."
"Yo, I can have Spencer email that to you."
"Really?" I asked, excited.
"Yeah. But you can't share it with nobody. You can't leak it or nothing. This goes in that confidentiality contract."
"I won't share it with nobody," I told him.
"Good. Spencer went over the contract with you?"
"He gave me the gist. He basically said that anything that happens in this room doesn't leave this room."
"That's not exactly what it says. It's actually more like, anything that has to deal with me, you can't speak about. So what goes on in this room is just a small part of it," he explained.
"What else can't I talk about then?"
"Like the track I'm gonna send you, that's bound by the confidentiality contract. Or like, if we become friends or something, and I don't know- we get into some crazy shit, you can't go doing articles talking about it and shit. All the major artists have them."
"Oh," I said. He said he thought we could be friends... or at least he alluded to the shit. I tried to keep my excitement inside, but truth be told, being friends with this nigga would be the best thing to ever happen to me.
"Yo, I gotta get ready for this after party. You don't mind if I shower real quick, do you?"
"Oh uh... nah. I'll wait here."
"Nah, man just come on back with me. I mean, you ain't on no homo shit, right?"
"Nah, dawg," I laughed. "That definitely ain't me, ya feel me?"
"Thanks," he said. He squirted some of the lotion into his hand and rubbed it on his legs. The motion of his hands to his legs drew my eyes down again. My eyes met with his floppy dick. He rubbed the lotion into his knees and into his inner thighs. I turned away just to keep from focusing on it.
"Chico, right?" he asked, inquiring my name again.
"Yeah," I said, walking back to the counter where all of his hygiene products were.
"Could you get me the deodorant?"
"Ok," I looked around until I saw the bar of deodorant so I could hand it to him.
"So what are you? Some kind of black and Mexican?" Tahj asked.
"Dominican. But everybody just says I'm black."
"Yeah, I can't even tell the difference. I only asked that because of your name."
"It's a nickname. My name is Chicago, but I grew up being called Chico," I said while handing him his deodorant.
"'Chicago? That's a strong name."
"Yo, you can have a seat, man," he said, scooting over to the side of the couch.
"Oh nah, man. I'm good," I responded.
"Oh... Chico, am I makin' you uncomfortable man?"
"Nah, nah, not at all," I lied.
"Well, have a seat then, nigga. You lookin' all uptight and shit."
I took a deep breath. I decided to suck it up and just sit. I sat down next to him, but I kept my face and my eyes focused and away from him while he finished his upkeep.
"Good," he coached. "Relax man. You seem so nervous. You want another drink or something?"
"No, I'm fine."
"So what city you heading to next?" I asked, again to just make conversation to keep from having another awkward moment.
"Oddly enough, Chicago," he laughed. "It's in a couple days though."
"Hmmm... so you'll be meeting with a new fan?"
"Yeah, I'll be meeting a fan," he said sounding unimpressed with the thoughts. "Few times do I meet somebody I can call my number 1 fan. I don't really meet nobody like you. The last few cities I went to, nobody got the questions right, so I ended up hanging with a couple of lames."
"When's the last time you met a...'number 1 fan'?"
"Not since New York. That was a few weeks ago too."
"Damn," I said.
"Yeah... so when I get a fan that truly appreciates me, I like to make it worthwhile. There's a lot of niggas that jump on the bandwagon when you get big. They can't even recite one of the joints you did before you got famous," Tahj said as he stretched his arms up into the air. His arms stretched and fell on the sofa back.
"I never thought about that. I guess it could be irritating."
"Niggas that ain't true fans don't have the same respect for you and shit."
"I understand," I nodded.
"How good of a fan are you, Chico?"
"Umm... I thought I proved that to you earlier."
"Nah, prove it to me now."
I chuckled. "Uh... how do I do that?"
"Look at me."
I turned my head to him for the first time since I sat down next to him. In the corner of my eye, I saw a movement coming from below. In reflex, I looked down and I saw Tahj's full length hard dick jump. I gasped, somewhat shocked. In all the time that we'd been sitting next to each other, I'd figured he'd have his underwear or something on by this point. The only thing he'd put on was a tough rubberband to pull his dreads back from his face.
Catching another flex of his dick, I suddenly realized that this whole night was a set up. The contract I had to sign earlier?- It was because his agent knew that this was going to happen and Tahj's PR people didn't want me going on and blabbing about how he likes the fellas when he's on the road.
I looked back up to Tahj's face. He gave me a suggestive head nod and sat as far back on the couch as possible. I took a breath.
"Uh... w-w-what do you want me to do with that thing?" I asked.
"Put it in your mouth," he said bluntly.
I stared at him, realizing that for the first time I could actually see right into his eyes. He wasn't wearing shades; his dreads weren't in the way... I could see right into him. Under this thick coat of arrogance he was radiating a layer of paranoia. He had some concerns about whether I'd do this, and whether I'd tell someone he asked for it.
"I mean... if you not a true fan, it's cool. I just figured a real fan wouldn't mind helping to get his nigga off before I start the night."
"But I... I-I,"
"Just put it in your mouth," he reiterated.
He broke his eye contact with me by tilting his head backward and closing his eyes. He waited for me to make a move. I weighed options quickly. I ain't ever did no shit like this before. My folks have always thought I had a weird fanatic relationship with Tahj, for me to be a young adult. I was trying to play cool all day and not come off like a dickrider or nothing... and here I was, getting' ready to let my lips ride this nigga's dick.
I put my hand around his dick, a way of just ripping the Band-Aid off. He took a deep breath. He was as nervous as I was, if not more. I rubbed the shaft of his dick, moving my fist up and down the 9 inches it took to get from the base of his hardened dick to the tip of his head. In another sudden move, I dove for it. My head swept down and his dick slid into my mouth.
At first contact, Tahj began to moan. "Ssss....Hohhh, shit nigga. Hoh," he said, bringing his hand over the back of my head. He cupped my cranium following how I guided my head up and down his meat to the best of my abilities. "That's what the fuck I'm talkin' about, nigga... Hohhhh, shit."
I slid up and down his dick, not mastering how to slurp it without my teeth riding him just yet. But he just seemed happy to be in my mouth.
"There you go, nigga... that's how my fans suck that dick."
I must've been doing well enough. While Tahj's left hand cupped my head, his right hand massaged my neck in an attempt to loosen me up. My mouth became saliva heavy from gagging on his dick and trying to take it to the back of my throat. I could taste the bitter flavor left by his bodywash and the weirdly fruitlike taste. I assumed the fruitlike taste was particles of semen on account of the huge fruit bowl in the dressing room and the fact that he eats a lot of fruits daily. It wasn't the taste I expected, and to be honest, I could live with it. I continued rubbing his dick across my tongue, slurping his dick down to his approval.
"Oh shit nigga... oh, shit," he said between the deep sucks of air between his teeth. Both of his hands were still plastered against my body. His left hand continued to push on my skull and his right hand was now rubbing my back as I was leaned over his leg sucking him off. His hands tightened on my head, and I bobbed, his hand began to push my head to the side so there was a slight tilt. My movements weren't only going up and down but from side to side as well, his dick now rubbing against my cheeks.
"Ahhhh... Chi-town, my nigga. Fuck that dick up," Tahj coached, being very verbal at this point. His hands continued rubbing from their positions, one still at my head and the other lowering from my neck to my back. "Hell yeah... my fan sucks big dick, don't he? How 'dat dick taste nigga?"
Tahj pulled my head up from his dick just long enough for me to answer the question."
"Good," I said."
"I know that's right," he said, pushing my head back down. "Suck on that dick. Shit, go ahead and enjoy that shit, nigga. It's just you and I."
I slurped further, cramming his dick into my mouth. Meanwhile, Tahj's hands continued roughly groping my body. That left hand kept stroking the bristle hair on my head, and the other lowered even further. The hand slid down the trail of my spine before crossing over to the front of my pants and unbuttoned them. From there, he unzipped, still stroking my head and forcing it up and down his shaft as a distraction.
Tahj's hand stretched into my pants and wrapped itself around my dick. He stroked me up and down rapidly, not in a sensitive or caring manner at all. He was roughly jerking my dick, trying to get me hard in my pants. I did the same with him. My hand stroked the part of his dick that I couldn't suck while my mouth suckled firmly on his sweetly flavored dick. Tahj's hand made its way around my body and began grabbing at my ass from underneath my pants. An uncomfortable feeling swept over me as I felt his hand sweeping down the crack of my ass, but he vocally coached me through it.
"Just keep suckin' my dick, baby.... Please, just keep suckin' my dick," he said, as some kind of pacifier to let him continue playing around in the "no-go" zone. His hand pulled out of my pants for a short while, but only so he could pull my pants down just below my ass to he could get a better look and grip. He held onto my ass cheek, feeling its firmness. His hand came back to the crack of my ass and I could feel him rubbing around the rim of it. I moaned.
"Hoh yeah, you like that?" he said.
"MMMHMM," I moaned.
"Eat that dick up. I know that shit taste good, keep eatin' that dick."
Tahj curved his pinky finger into the form of a hook, and dug into my asshole. I tightened up, not really expecting the gesture. I thought he'd just continue to rub my dick, but now he was actually in my ass with the tip of his pinky. I tensed up and began to come off his dick.
"No-no-no," he said, his left hand pushing my head back down to his lap. "Come on, keep suckin'. Suck that dick- suck that mothafuckin' dick, Goddamn."
When he pushed my head back down, he pushed it further than I'd been going. His dick head was now pushing into my throat, forcing me to gag hard and choke. The whole time, he's working his pinky finger in and out of my ass, a quick movement that didn't have the worst feeling I'd ever felt. When I shifted my attention to the dick that I was choking on, I realized the feeling in my ass wasn't bad at all.
My gags became louder as I tried to beat the force of his hand that was holding me down. He wasn't letting up; he was getting off on it.
"Yeah, that's it," he grunted. "In-that-motha-fuckin-neck-nigga," he said. Coinciding his thrusts with every syllable.
I tapped out to him, putting my hand on his leg to push off. He immediately released his hold on my head and let me come up for air. My head pulled up, and huge globs of spit and pre-cum ran from out my mouth. I came up, still having gag reflexes that made me wretch like I was about to throw up. Short on breath, I looked up at him. His finger had pulled out of my ass and he had a concerned look, like he didn't know I was down there choking so bad, but he also had a lustful look as well.
"You iight?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said, panting heavily before I wiped the bodily fluids off of my face.
Tahj reached over to me and begin lifting the t-shirt I wore to the concert up. He leaned over so that he was right in back of me, with both of his hands lifting from the sides of my body. As my shirt was coming off, he kissed little parts of my spine up to my neck.
I lifted my hands, allowing him to pull the shirt over my arms . He moaned with each kiss he layed on my body. After he finished kissing my back, he moved to my shoulder, and came around to kiss my neck, right under my chin. His kisses were soft and gentle, somewhat passionate. He kept elevating the area of his kiss until he came to my lips and put a kiss on them.
He moaned more, and directly into my mouth. Our eyes were closed as we sat there kissing each other, and his hands made their way back to my sagging and unbuttoned pants. He nudged at them, pulling them down while still kissing me. I lifted up from the sofa just to make it easier for him to pull my pants down. He did. My pants continued to fall at the courtesy of his hands until they could go no further.
Tahj broke the kiss, still moaning and hissing and cooing. He pulled my legs off to take off my shoes without untying them. Next, the pants came off. Proven that that moving quickly and roughly was in his nature, he got down on the floor between my legs and pulled the pants down over my socks.
Gravity brought my legs back to the floor, but not for too long. Tahj dove for my hard 7 inch dick that pointed straight for him. He began to suck, taking it all the way down to the base. My complete dick sat inside of his mouth and I didn't know what to do. I thought to put my hand on his head in the same way he did me, but I decided against it. His head came back up seconds later. He held my dickhead in his mouth but jerked the rest of my dick with his fist.
"You like that shit?" he said, removing his lips from the tip but still stroking it.
"Yeah," I said, looking down at him.
"Good." He kept stroking my shaft, holding my dick at the side of his face as he kissed my pelvic bone and thighs. "Spread them legs," he said.
Oh shit, I thought. I didn't know how I'd let him get here, but he was in the perfect position to ram his dick deep into my ass and I didn't know if I was ready for that. Somehow, my legs spread anyway.
Tahj began to nibble at my balls, nudging them around with his tongue for a few seconds, but it wasn't long before his tongue reached what it really wanted. He was lapping at my backdoor, grazing the "No-Go" zone again. The feeling was pleasurable and intense.
"Yo, this ass tastes good as a mothafucka," he said, in between licks. "You like this shit nigga?"
"Yeah," I responded.
"Yo, you betta let me know, nigga. It's just you and me in this bitch."
The feeling felt amazing, but my mind was a little too focused on what I knew was coming next.
"Hohhh, this ass make my dick hard nigga," he said right before he made this loud slurp sound as he dragged his tongue across my ass again. He lifted his head and his body to an erectness. Tahj began preparing to shove his dick into me by holding it in his hands. He looked up and could see the instant worry in my face.
"This ain't even gonna hurt man. I ain't gon' take long so don't even sweat it," he said. No sooner than that, I felt his dick rubbing against my asshole. It oozed pre-cum, which left this wet feeling at my ass and made the whole thing feel like he was just licking my ass like he was just doing a minute or so ago.
His dick began to apply pressure and force to my hole, and I could feel him starting to break inside. I got tense and my face stressed, and I could count on his East Coast accent to coach me through.
"That's it, relax nigga. I ain't got no punk fans.... My fans take dick," he said. I couldn't even bring myself to laugh at the irony. I centered around the dick that was penetrating me, pushing deeper and deeper inside. "That's that shit nigga. Open up that ass- open up that fuckin' ass."
This story is a copyright by Mr. Maleficent of the Maleficent Journal and an act of complete fiction. Please always remember to wrap it up.
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