Rowan begs you for a quickie

Set break for the Bleeding Gardenias. Charlie doesn't need you for anything. You're hot, dripping, and thirsty. Mona's in the ladies', taking off like a shot at the end of the last song.

It's gonna be more and more like that for Mona in the next few months. Not gonna be easy for her to go out to shows, unless the venue has a reasonable excess of stalls or a ridiculous lack of women. Not even a gay leather bar is that purely a sausage fest.

Anyway. You find yourself outside, away from the cheesy dance-pop they're playing at set break, leaning against the peeling paint on the weathered wooden back wall of the post-industrial relic that someone converted into a music space a few years back. There's a warm night breeze drying off your mosh sweat. You feel a few spots that are gonna be bruises tomorrow, but Karen Yoshida has given you worse bruises, between a panicked flying kick and a rolling, minutes-long anal orgasm with your cock caught in her spasming ring.

You drain your first can of cola, kick it away in the direction of the dumpsters, then pop open your second can. There's a little ache in your jaw from your on-stage performance. You figure it was a success, since Rowan sent you off with praise and a cheer from the crowd, plus a whisper in your ear, "Later tonight. Stick around." You tip up the second can, sucking down the cool bubbly sweetness.

You catch a firm bump to the side of your hip. The cola goes up your nose and you double over with a coughing fit. A small hand grips you firmly by the back of the belt.

"Wha-?" you say, between the coughs.

"Now." It's Rowan. Her gardenias-and-blood T-shirt is damp under the shoulders. Your cock twitches at the scent of her sweat. "I want you now. C'mon. Over there."

You look round. Charlie and Sochil are standing by the back door.

"No, that way, Joe." Rowan says. She tugs you toward the corner by the dumpsters. "Right here, right now."

Rowan backs you into the wall and works a knee between your legs. She grips you around the back and straddles your leg so she can grind her pussy on your thigh. Her nipples poke you like pencil erasers as she holds you tight and grinds. Your cock swells as the petite part-time rocker girl treats you like her sex toy. In less than a minute, she buries her face in your shoulder and groans rhythmically as her hips grind out her first orgasm.

"Fuck. Yeah," Rowan says. "Fuck yeah."

She's left a wet spot on your jeans.

"Okay let's get you suited up. I am sooo ready for that dick, but it's gotta be a quickie," Rowan says. "Take it out." Her eyes widen. "Goddamn, it's pretty, too."

You're not gonna argue.

"Don't just stand there looking pretty." Rowan says. "Suit up and let's put you to work."

This was the part of tonight's job you were looking forward to the most.

"Okay, let's go," you say.

You dig out the little paper bag with the "date kit" Mona prepared for you. Couple of extra-large condoms. Little bottle of lube. Little packet of wipes.

3+2 = 5, Miss.

Rowan grabs the condom from you with a "Gimme." The rest of Mona's date kit falls and scatters on the pavement. Rowan grins as she rips open the packet and gets ready to roll it down your hard cock. "Gotcha."

Rowan holds your shaft while she puts the little ring on your oozing cock head like a crown. She pulls down, trying to unroll it. "It won't go down, shit, what? Is it stuck?"

"Uh, it's inside out," you say. "No good now. There's another one."

"Shit," Rowan says.

You and Rowan scramble to find the second condom packet. The paper bag is ripped and the kit is scattered. "Aha, got it," Rowan says, emerging from under a dumpster, waving the little foil square with triumph.

"Rowan, we're up!" Sochil calls. "They're calling out for the second set."

"Can't they wait just five?" Rowan says.

"You know what happened last time," Sochil says. "They didn't fucking pay us."

"Come the fuck on, Rowan," Charlie says. "Take care of your fucking dick addiction after the show!"

Rowan bristles and hisses in a breath to shout back.

You better step in. You still have to work strike with Charlie, and Mona said not to cross her.

Roll +COOL(0) using GET OUT OF TROUBLE to save the moment.

8 + 0 = 8. You get out of trouble, but it will cost you.

"Whoa, whoa!" you break in. "Later is fine, whatever. Please!"

Three-fourths of the Bleeding Gardenias stop dead, mouths open. The next moment they're all laughing at you.

"Gonna take more than five," Charlie says. "Look at that limp noodle."

Girl fights are the opposite of a turn-on for you, so Rowan and Charlie bristling at each other took the starch out of your dick.

Rowan gives you a couple of gentle whacks on the back. "Sorry, Joe." She hands you the backup condom. "Hang onto this, the night's not over."

You still feel a damp patch on your jeans where Rowan's pussy juice is cooling in the evening breeze.

"Let's make that a promise," you say.

Take -1 Forward as "it will cost you", as Charlie works you extra hard for tear-down.

Roll +HOT(+1) using TELL HER to see if you can make good on Rowan's hope.

8 + 1 = 9. When you TELL HER WHAT TO DO, she does what you want if you turn her on.

"Yup. Get it up, slam it in. Later." Rowan pulls her shorts back up, blowing out her breath with a "Pfff!" of regret. "Showtime."

Rowan takes her frustration out on the microphone and the stage, stomping and screaming out the songs of the second set. Mona looks a little cross as she adjusts the knobs and sliders on her sound board. Sochil, Charlie, and Jessie play the hell out of their instruments, and the crowd floats on the energy. Waves of motion flow back and forth across the mosh pit. The audience sings along with the choruses, voices loud and ragged and off the beat.

It's a long weary tear-down session, and you aren't sure if Charlie is taking it out on you for Rowan's near hissy fit between sets, but she doesn't actually yell at you or drop anything on your foot. Which is good, since you're driving the pickup full of band gear back to storage.

On the way back in the pick-up, you're in the driver's seat, Mona's on the other side, and Rowan is squeezed between you in the girlfriend seat. You're sweaty, you're achy, and you're silly-tired from the long night of hauling and moshing.

But Rowan rests her hand between your legs, and your hard-on is not going down.

You have 3 XP.

You have Hard +2 (with Fucking Huge), Hot +2 (with Charming), Cool 0, Control -1.

Describe what you do or say to turn Rowan on and roll +HARD(+2) to FUCK HER.