Marina and the Drummer

Ever since I was a little girl, I loved music and I never missed a chance to sing wherever I was, as long as someone asked me to. Everyone said I had an amazing voice and that I should pursue it professionally. So I started learning guitar when I was in the last grade of elementary school. By the time I finished high school, I was a pretty good guitarist, but my great love was always singing.My voice had driven many people crazy, and once, at a gathering, there was even a guy who suggested taking me to a record company where he also worked. They were looking for new voices, he said. Only it was for folk music, and I wasn't into that. I certainly had ambitions to have a career in singing, but my great love was rock and jazz. If I made any concession, it would be for pop or at least light electric music. So I was looking for it on my own, but all my friends either didn't know any instrument, or only played guitar. What the hell kind of band would we make with only guitars? Not to mention that those I knew who were involved with music only played the simple hits of the era or the old classic pop songs. So, if we were to make our own band, shouldn't we first and foremost vibe with each other, and then entertain the world? When I got into university, I believed I would find people with similar tastes and we'd form some group, if not to pursue a professional career, at least to have fun and enjoy ourselves. Unfortunately, I found the same thing there too. I mean, I don't believe there weren't others like me; maybe it was my own permanent bad luck that I couldn't meet them and get in touch with them. However, I had a lot of studying to do at the beginning, so for quite a while, this issue didn't concern me at all.

It was just before the Christmas holidays that I saw a notice pinned to a bulletin board at the school. They were looking for someone, male or female, who played guitar, of course, but above all, to sing and want to participate in a jazz-rock group. A phone number was written below. Instead of copying the number, as anyone else in my place would have done, I peeled off the paper and took it with me. That same afternoon, I called. A young man answered and asked if I wanted to come by the warehouse they had rented and converted into a makeshift studio for an audition. If I suited them, I would become a member of the band, which still didn't have a suitable name. At the agreed time, I went to the address they had given me. I rang the bell, and a tall young man opened the door, taller than me, with his hair tied in a ponytail and holding an electric guitar in his hands.

"Marina!", he stated more than asked. "Come in." I entered and I liked the space immediately, from the first moment. They had built a small platform, like a stage, with drums in the center, some amplifiers around, and one or two microphones up front. On a worn-out couch and two old armchairs, two other young men and a slender girl with long black hair were lounging. They were all dressed in black leather jackets and jeans. We introduced ourselves, and they told me, besides their names, what instruments they played. The one in the left armchair played bass, the girl on the couch played keyboards, and the third in the other armchair, saxophone.

"Is there no drummer in the band either?" I asked then. "Of course there is!", replied the tall one. "Dimitris, who is also the head of the group. It all started with him. He'll be here any moment, we're waiting for him to start our rehearsal. That way we'll see in practice what you're worth vocally and to what extent you know how to play the guitar you mentioned on the phone. But more important than anything is your stage presence."

Then I remembered I hadn't brought my guitar with me, because I had thought to talk to them first. I told them, and they showed me a guitar case leaning upright in the corner. I went and opened it and saw an incredibly expensive, amazing instrument I hadn't even imagined in my dreams. I was still gaping at that piece of art I was holding in my hands, when the door opened with a bang and a strikingly handsome and well-built young man with thick, bushy, shrub-like hair burst in with a rush. It was Dimitris, the inspiration, the leader, and the drummer of the band. They introduced us, but before I could say anything, he threw a curt "hi!" at me, pulled the tall one by the sleeve, whispered something in his ear, and hurried off to the bathroom. The tall one returned near us, slapped me on the back, and told me everything was settled:

"From this moment, you are a member of the group and you must also think of a name for when we start playing live." "But how!", I wondered, rightly so. "Just like that! Without even hearing me play? What if I don't suit you?" "If I tell you the deal is closed, it's closed," repeated the tall one. "Dimitris likes you and everything else doesn't matter. He's the boss here!" "As long as your ass can handle it, of course," the girl then chimed in, and they all burst out laughing, except for me, who didn't understand a damn thing they were saying.

Dimitris came out of the bathroom, went straight up to the little platform, sat behind the drums, and started tapping the drumsticks together, as if giving the signal to start. They all jumped up, grabbed their instruments, and ran to their positions. I followed them with the new guitar in my hand. We connected the cables and the amplifiers and we were ready. The drums set the rhythm and they started playing. The piece was familiar, and timidly at first, I joined in. We finished the first melody and started a second one. Two hours later we stopped, and the others left immediately as if something was chasing them, I don't know what! One by one, as they left, they patted me affectionately on the shoulder and congratulated me on my playing. Only the girl slapped me on the ass and winked at me slyly.

I was left alone with Dimitris. He asked me various things while continuously tapping his drums softly, almost without looking at me. I answered as simply and directly as I could. In the end, he stood up, came close to me, and took a walk around me, looking at me meticulously. To say I didn't lose it would be a lie. Especially when he stood behind me and gave me a slap on the ass, I blushed like a beet and completely lost my speech. He continued as if nothing was wrong, caressed and patted my ass cheeks over my pants and whistled approvingly, with admiration. He came in front of me, rested his hands on my shoulders and pressed them downwards. He forced me to kneel before him, undid his belt at his waist and unbuttoned his pants. With a sharp movement, he pulled them down along with his underwear and a huge, incredibly thick cock sprang up in my face. He thrust his pelvis forward and the crimson cockhead struck my cheek. I didn't make a move, not that I didn't want to, and he began to rub his big dick on my face and press it against my lips. I reached out my hand and grabbed it. I squeezed it in my palm and began to move it up and down. He groaned softly and moved his pelvis to the rhythm of the handjob I was giving him. I opened my mouth and flicked my tongue onto his swollen cockhead. I licked it thoroughly and sucked it eagerly. I dragged my tongue all the way to the base of his thick cock shaft and stuffed my lips with his heavy balls. I followed the reverse course and impaled his cock into my throat. I held it there and began to move my head up and down on it.

I was sucking him with a devilish mood and would have made him cum in my mouth soon if he hadn't managed to pull away at the right moment himself. He grabbed me abruptly and turned me differently. He came behind me and pulled down the tight pants I was wearing. With his teeth, he grabbed my panties and pulled them down. He spread my buttocks and I lifted my ass, tilting it towards him as much as I could. He knelt behind me and laid his big dick in the cleft between my ass cheeks. He rubbed it hard there for a while and then began to slap it against my ass cheeks as if playing drums. I wiggled my ass back and forth and moaned, turned on. When he got bored of this game, or when his horniness exceeded every limit, he rested his swollen cock against my asshole. He pressed it hard against my sphincter and thrust his pelvis forward forcefully. He impaled it whole into my ass and his balls slapped heavily against my soaked pussy lips. I screamed from the fierce sting caused by the sudden and violent invasion. He began to thrust in and out vigorously behind me and tore my asshole with every push. The initial pain quickly subsided and only pleasure remained. My pussy was on fire from all the horniness and strong contractions shook me. I slipped my hand between my legs and rubbed my clit and pussy lips to the rhythm he was fucking me. He put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me towards him every time he thrust his cock deep inside me.

He let out a wild triumphant scream and came. My tight asshole flooded with the rich, hot cum and I drenched my palm with my own juices. His cock, however, didn't soften at all and he continued to push it into my ass with the same tireless rhythm. Only when he came again did he slowly pull it out of my asshole and then he tended to me properly with the appropriate ointments to relieve the pain he himself had caused me. "You fuck like you play drums," I told him then. "Loud and wild." "That's how I enjoy both better," he answered smiling. "Maybe you didn't like it?" "Quite the opposite!" I replied and kissed him gently on the lips. He sucked my tongue thirstily and put a finger in my ass. I got turned on immediately and told him coyly: "It's just that my poor little pussy was left complaining. It wants to feel the whole length of your big dick too." He smiled smugly, pushed his finger deeper into my asshole and said slyly: "When I've had my fill of your ass, we'll see what we'll do with your pussy. But from what I can judge, it will remain complaining for quite some time yet. Unless someone else takes over to console it. I, however, have my mind elsewhere." And to make it clearer to me, he probed the tight little hole of my ass with his thick finger. I bit him on the neck and dragged him onto the couch. I lay on my back and lifted my legs high. He impaled his cock into my asshole again and fucked me more slowly this time. After three more rehearsals we became a fucking great band. We even found a kickass name but don't expect me to tell you. I am sure, however, that as soon as we release a record you'll all run to buy it because it will blow your minds.