The band was going to break up. It was a fact that became increasingly evident as days went by.
Kate tuned her bass. She was in a thin white cotton tank top and a pair of paint-splattered jeans. Her tattoos peaked out from under her shirt and could be faintly seen through the flimsy material, as could her red bra. Thick black anchors and nautical stars all over her skin. Song lyrics and poetry all over her back.
Stephen tuned his guitar. If it was anyone’s fault, it was his. He was going off to art school, off with his pretentious girlfriend. His dark hair fell over his face as he leaned down to adjust the guitar pedals. All that distortion and reverb and delay that made the dreamy sounds they needed.
And me? I sat at my drums and waited. I’d been in the studio for an hour warming up—good old David, dependable and predictable. My shirt already off, and my hands tight on my drumsticks. I was protected behind my kit, a world of skins and cymbals keeping me from the facts and the dynamics. Keeping me from the truth that I was in love with Kate, and she was in love with Stephen, and Stephen was, for all intents and purposes, in love with himself.
There is a lovely sound, when the amps are on, and fingers slip across live strings, and there is that long high zip. Like the symphony tuning up.
The studio we rented was a big cube. White walls marred here and there by stickers and packed halfway up each wall with equipment. Stephen’s Marshall stack on one side, Kate’s Crate on the other. My five-piece kit in the middle, with my various little cowbells and implements lying about.
Kate started the bass line from one of our early tunes. It was intense, and it was one of those songs we could fall into a jam with. Stephen followed the low-building rhythm. I didn’t come in until a few measures later, when the song got heavy.
It is a funny thing how things can change so suddenly. Like that moment when the guitar is soft and mellow, following all the little spirals and breezes of a charming tune, then, out of nowhere, the distortion comes crashing down. Foaming white noise cascading over the melody and culminating into this heavy drowning wall of sound. This song was like that, pretty in parts and then descending into chaos and noise. The song was just like our relationship.
We played that for fifteen minutes and then went right into a fast-pasted number that was relatively new. Lately, Stephen had wanted to incorporate more digital sounds, but Kate and I were set against it. I did my best to play drum machine as Stephen played around with weird effects and Kate repeated the same bass line over and over.
After four songs, I got up and got some water. Kate was pissy. She paced in front of her amp. Stephen put down his guitar.
"So, what do you think? Is this it?"
I took a deep breath and a long drink. Stephen finally said it. It was going to be over now, for real. It was much more like breaking up with a girl than I thought it would be.
Kate, in her randomly violent style, dropped her bass with a thud on the floor and kicked her amp, which was letting out a single dull vibrating note. Then turned it off and then turned on us with wet eyes.
"You fucking suck, Stephen. You’re a selfish little boy," she spat.
I went over to comfort her, but she brushed my hands off.
"And you’re pathetic, David. You won’t even fight for this band," she wouldn’t even look at me. I walked around her and tried to hold her. She fought me but eventually let me put my arms around her.
"I’m sorry," I attempted. She sobbed a little.
"We’re all sorry. None of us have ever said any of the things we should have said. At least I’m ending it for real and not simpering and passive-aggressively dancing around it," Stephen said, walking towards us.
"What the fuck does that mean?" Kate said, suddenly tense.
Stephen smiled. "Ask David. I’m sure there are things that he’s wanted to say," Stephen’s mocking tone made my skin crawl.
Kate looked down. She knew. She knew I had wanted her for years, just as she’d wanted Stephen. Suddenly my hands felt strange on her, like a violation.
I was still standing behind her as Stephen stood in front of her. His hands went to her hips, as mine still rested around her stomach.
There it was; the end. The end, and we were in this strange embrace. The end, and we were finally telling the truth.
Kate moved her head back, and her hair brushed my lips. Her ear was just millimeters from my mouth, and the smell of her, soap and perfume, and smoke and beer. All those Kate smells making me hard just like they always did.
She suddenly felt so small between us. Katie was a tough girl. She tended to date delicate boys she could control. Stephen and I were both a half a foot taller, and I probably weighed twice what she did. Stephen was slight, but he could probably overpower her easily. She seemed suddenly vulnerable and birdlike between us. She also seemed very aware of this and shaky.
I wanted her with every cell of my body, and at the same time, seeing Stephen touch her made my blood boil with jealousy. She should have been mine. My hands moved up and rested just under her breasts. I had watched her body move so many times, been hypnotized by her curves of her, and as my hands poised to cup her breasts, I ached for all those nights I couldn’t have her.
Then it started. I don’t know why. Stephen leaned in and kissed her. My stomach dropped. He kissed her, and she kissed him back, and I wanted to get away. I wanted to leave them both forever. As I pulled back, Kate took my hands and pulled them, pulled them up, pulled them to cover her breasts. I winced at the softness of her. Everything in me wanted to go, and everything in me wanted to stay.
It started, and I knew it wouldn’t be like the fantasies I’d read about. It wasn’t going to be like movies. It wasn’t happy smiling sexually enlightened people sharing something transcendent; it wasn’t even three half-drunk people sharing something kinky and sordid. This was three people succumbing to a thousand nights of tension. This was a goodbye fuck to the thing that we were. This was breaking up the band.
Stephen’s hands went to Kate’s belt as I pulled her shirt up and off. I laid my hands on her little pot belly and whispered into her ear. "We don’t have to do this."
She turned her head around and kissed me. It was the first time we had ever kissed. She had the softest lips I’d ever felt, even if they were chapped. They were still warm and wet from him.
"I know you’d never let anything bad happen to me," she whispered into my mouth.
Stephen pulled off her belt and stood there in front of us, brandishing it with an evil grin.
"We’re really going to do this?" He asked, mostly to himself, and then he pulled off his shirt.
He was fit. Skinny, but fit. Dark hair, straight and just long enough to fall over his eyes. Just dirty enough to look cool. I was stronger, with darker skin and black hair. Kate was fairer than either of us. She moved away from me just enough to reach back and unclasp her bra and let it fall off her shoulders and then her arms.
She bit her lips as we ate her up with our eyes. My hand moved slowly up her stomach, just drifting over her skin. She giggled for a moment, and then I was cupping the softness of her breasts again, now naked skin on naked skin. There was a red heart in between her tits, outlined with black. I’d never seen that tattoo before. She let out a barely audible moan, and that pushed me over the edge. My fingers found her nipples, and she ground her ass back against me.
Stephen was smiling his impish smile as he slapped one of my hands away. Then he moved in, and Kate moved back, taking me with her for a few steps. Then my back was against the wall, Kate’s back and ass pressed against me, Stephen pressed against the front of her, his chest against my hand as we felt her together.
I didn’t know what the rules were, but there wasn’t much time to think about them anyway. She kissed him. She kissed me. She looked drugged from kissing us. As we passed her back and forth, she gasped for breath between us. Tongues and lips and teeth. I didn’t want to watch them kiss, but I did. Pangs every time, as I wondered if she was only kissing me because it was what that night was. Wondering if she’d rather be alone with him.
Stephen moved back, we both watched him as he undid his jeans. He was performing a little. His faux Jim Morrison or something. I wanted to kick in his teeth. Kate was hypnotized. He pulled off his shoes and jeans, and boxers. When he was done, she pressed her ass hard against me and pulled off her jeans. Then she bent forward.
He was rough with her. He pulled her forward by her hair and roughly slipped his cock across her cheek. Then he slapped her with it a little. My hands clenched into fists, but I heard her moan. It wasn’t a simple moan. It was low and guttural. It was primal. I wondered suddenly what it would be like alone with her. Did she like it rough like that? I could do that. I could give her that if that’s what she wanted.
I looked down at her panty-covered ass. I pulled the red fabric to one side and opened my palm on the smooth skin of her cheek. I lifted my hand and landed a hard smack. She jumped and looked back at me, her eyes wild and pleading. I spanked her again and then on the other cheek. The room echoed with the smack and then her little yelps and then Stephen’s throaty chuckle. Then she wasn’t making any sound at all, and I watched as Stephen’s eyes closed and his head tipped back a little.
I was hard and numb. My ears were hot, and my hands were cold. I wanted to fuck, and I wanted to fight.
Kate awkwardly reached back, never turning around, never stopping what she was doing. I just caught a glimpse of it, her mouth on his cock. Her eyes closed. She fumbled behind her, pulling on my jeans. She managed to get the button undone.
I moved her hand away, and our fingers closed around each other’s for a moment. Just a tiny moment of communication. Want and caring.
I opened my zipper and let my pants fall. I slipped off my sneakers and kicked off my pants, never moving from behind her. Looking around, I saw my backpack a few feet away. I had to get it.
I slipped away, and she groaned against his cock. He looked at me for a second, then closed his eyes again. I got my bag, unzipped the front pocket, and found what I was looking for. From the corner of my eye, I saw his pink cock and her even pinker lips. Her eyes were on me as she sucked him. Two steps back, and I was behind her. She pressed her ass against my boxer-covered cock and ground against it. She moaned again, her mouth still full. I could see a deep blush on her shoulders and neck. I dropped the condom on her back.
Her arm pushed back again; she found my hand without turning. I thought she wanted to hold my hand, but she took it and pushed it roughly against her ass. She wanted me to spank her again. Spank her while she sucked him off. My hand rested coldly on her ass. My eyes lowered. If she wanted me to hurt her, I could.
I spanked her hard. My hands on her hips, then each coming up in turn and slapping hard against her skin. I was pushing her forward, and I heard Stephen groan. I didn’t understand how I could still be hard, but there it was.
I pulled out my cock and rested it there between her ass cheeks. She pushed up on the tips of her toes and arched her back like a cat in heat. She wanted it. She wanted to get fuck from both sides. She wanted it all.
I spanked her again and again. Suddenly the room was echoing with her moans. He slipped out of her mouth, and she bent further down, gasping because of my blows. She reached back and pulled at her panties. Pulled them down just a little, just enough.
I grabbed the condom package, and ripped it quickly. As I moved, I slipped against her, just for a second. My naked cock against her naked cunt. Her wetness dangerously intense, almost pulling me in. For the first time, I saw the pink of her. That secret that I had wanted so badly for so long.
I slipped the thing on. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t believe what we were doing. I didn’t mean to, but I looked up. Stephen’s face was dark, his hair over his eyes. His cheeks were flushed and jaw set.
I slipped against her. She moved her whole body, trying to capture my cock. I held her hips and pushed her. I straightened her out and grinned a little as she tried and moved under my grip. She looked back at me, her eyes angry and hungry.
I was smiling as I slipped against her and the head of my cock just barely inched into her. She made a sound like a sob. Stephen laughed. I didn’t look up. I slipped in slowly. Feeling every slick inch of her. Stephen gasped. I could only imagine why. Then I was fucking Kate.
Sometimes you just get that angle, that position. Sometimes you are so hard, and she is so deliciously wet, that it all just works like pistons, like oiled machine perfection. That’s what it was.
I pushed forward, and she moaned, loud and high, and then she gagged. I fucked her. I fucked her for all the nights she slept next to me in our van, and I felt the warmth of her body so close but never mine. I fucked her because I loved her.
And I was fucking her right onto his cock. Every thrust pushed him down her throat. The reality hit me hard, but then she started breathing faster, her hands on his hips, her knees almost giving. I felt every muscle inside of her tighten as she moaned against his hardness. I fucked her through it, I kept going. I felt it coming on. Sometimes it’s like that, sometimes it comes all at once, but sometimes you feel it like a train that’s still a station away. Rumbling and building. Unstoppable.
I vaguely heard Stephen. His pretty voice making sharp little cries. Then I was coming.
There was no more after that. No marathon sex. No switching positions and gymnast-like maneuvers. We got dressed silently and left one by one. First Stephen, who only took his guitar. Then Kate, who stood at the door for a minute, looking like she was desperate to say something. Then me, my hands still smelling like her sex and my eyes red, and my world changed forever.