Phoenix Rising : Issue #1 by S. R. Watson

Prologue





Phoenix





The dancing lights shining down on me are hot as fuck. My shirt clings to my chest from the sweat. My guys are going hard on the guitar and drums while I deliver these “Have Faith in Me” lyrics. We’re on fire tonight! We rock Club Luxe every weekend, and it never gets old. “So, cling to what you know and never let go…” I make sure to make eye contact with the women standing front and center as I sing because one of them will be my conquest tonight. The eye contact personalizes the experience for them. Or so they think. We’re on the second verse when I spot her. I don’t know how I missed her come-hither eyes or that rack. Even with the lights in my eyes, I can see this sexy brunette with double D cleavage spilling over her midriff top and a skirt so short it barely covers her ass. I wink at her, and she blushes. The women to her right and her left blush too because they mistakenly think that wink was aimed for them. I’m sure they’d be down for a foursome, but this last set has me spent. I’m not in the mood to pleasure three women tonight. No, the sexy brunette is the lucky winner. I pull my shirt off over my head and watch as her eyes narrow. That telltale sign has sealed her fate. She will be on my cock before the bar closes.



Our gig for tonight is finally finished. I’m sitting in this makeshift backstage area designated for us by the bar. The room is a pretty decent size, so I can’t complain. Not to mention, the owner, Steve, has tricked this room out with black and white leather sofas and other contemporary shit we don’t need. All we need is a place to change and store our equipment, but he goes the extra mile to ensure we keep coming back. We fill the house every weekend with mostly horny women, thus bringing in the men too. It’s a win-win. My thoughts are cut short by a timid knock on the door. Bandmates, Killian and Ren, have already left for an after-party with two chicks. Asher was the first to leave. He said something about grabbing a few things from the store before his stepsister arrived tomorrow. It’s after midnight, but okay. The only person who it could be is my pussy for tonight. I had already given the green light to club security to let the brunette through if she came sniffing around backstage. I was beginning to think she wouldn’t show—afraid of the possible rejection. Who am I kidding? I’m sure she is aware of her assets and how to work them. Women like that always get what they want. She is in for a surprise, though, because so do I. When she crosses the threshold of this room, I run the show.



My sexual appetite is unparalleled, and so are my desires. Not every woman is privy to my tastes—I’m selective in that regard. I will have to see how this one behaves. If she submits, I’ll tilt her world on its fucking axis. If she needs persuasion, I’ll let her suck my cock before I show her the door. Those are the terms I live by.

Opening the door, I’m greeted with a wicked smile. Her intentions are written all over her face. “Hi,” she says coyly. I’m not fooled by the innocent act, though.

“Come in. What is your name, sweetheart?” I step aside to let her in. The security guy gives me a thumbs-up before I close the door behind her.

“Shannon,” she purrs. My eyes are drawn to her red lipstick with thoughts of those lips wrapped around my dick. “Nice dressing room,” she adds.

“Thanks. So, what’s on your mind, Shannon?” I ask, getting straight to the reason for her visit. I’ve never been one for pleasantries.

“Excuse me? What do you mean?”

“The reason you’ve come to my dressing room?” I can see she’s trying to hold on to this coy act, but I’m not having it.

“Oh…well. I wanted to meet you. The other guys are great. I’ve been coming here for a while, but tonight was the first time I had a chance to be so close to the stage,” she replies. Such bullshit. I hate liars and women who come back here, only to play innocent.



If you want to fuck me, own that shit. That I can respect. I can smell how wet she is for me, yet she wants to hold on to this illusion of being a good girl. I’m about to shatter this little game she thinks she’s playing.

“Nice meeting you, Shannon, but what I really want is to be sucked off. So, the way I see it, if you’ve gotten what you’ve come for, then there is the door. If you want to get me off, then get on your knees.” I watch as hesitation crosses her face. She’s probably not used to men being so blunt. Instead, she’s used to them being wrapped around her finger. Her hesitation only lasts for a second before a smile crosses those lips. She drops to her knees, and her submission is enough to make me hard. I stroke my cock a few times, so she can watch it grow through my jeans. Her salivation is confirming everything I thought about her. Good girl, my ass. I take my dick out and rub it across her lips to tease her. She opens her mouth to take me in, but I pull back. My show.