>>>>>>>The Time Gary Holt Became my Favorite Musician<<<<<<<<
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Content warning: Nsfw, piv, foreplay, female reader X Gary Holt
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Gary Holt wasn’t always my favorite thrash guitarist.
It wasn’t until I was on campus, waiting for Satanism Studies: A Holistic Interaction of Decomposition Cycles in the Freudian Dialectic, that I met eyes with this beautiful man. It was a normal day, sunny yet overcast, when we locked eyes. I was wearning a skirt without panties because I was so behind on laundry. My shitty landlord, who keeps on getting stuck in my dryer when he tries to fix it, is so ugly, unlike this most beautiful man, Gary Holt. I had never seen eyes like his, piercing orbs transfixed on me, a gaze that deeply understood me like no one else. I was sipping on a matcha latte and puzzling over a particularly puzzling section of the textbook reading, when I looked up and first met his gaze. His mouth and eyes twitched.
“DO you want to get my book signed?” he gasped. I moaned at the sound of his voice. He grapped by my folds and dragged me into the Arts and Sciences building, which is named after him btw. “We should fuck here and anoint the building with my cum to claim it as our own”, he rasped. I whimpered. I was a virgin and had never heard of the concept of cum. How could he choose a simple, plain girl like me? What if I couldn’t please him? Surely, he had a plethora of beautiful thrash metal women lineing up at his trailer every night after a show? And he is choosing me?
“Don’t worry, baby,” he moved his finger up and down my folds, “If youre a good girl, and stay quiet, I’ll fuck you.”
“Oh, fuck me, please,” I begged.
My juices ran down my leg. He picked me up and carried me into an abandoned classroom. He threw me on a table and spread my legs. “Fuck, baby, youre so wet”, he moaned. His hands quickened their pace, running up and down my clit. My grip tightened on his strong, muscular arms, and I let out a whimper. He slid a finger into my pussy. “Auaaaah, youre so tight,” he whispered, watching my face and finding my spot. My eyes became glassy, my vision became of one in the clouds. I couldn’t help the drool out of the side of my mouth. I had never felt a sensation like this before, one so fully overwhelming—and his strong, muscular hands propelled me through it, lengthening the orgasm.
“I told you not to be loud,” he growled, his voice brought me back to earth. He had pulled up my skirt so that my pussy was fully bared to him. My legs were raised and rested on each shoulder. “Only a naughty girl disobeys me,” he grinned, showing me his charming, beautiful, characteristic, smile. I sobbed, “Please fuck me!”. I wanted it so bad. I bit my lip and tears appeared at the corners of my eyes. “Please!”, I insisted, wrapping my hands tighter around his strong biceps. “You played me like that ESP LTD GH-600 guitar. I need you inside me so bad!”.
He growled again, deeper. His hand slid off my swollen pussy and fumbled with his belt buckle. He pulled out his enormous cock and stroked it against my opening. I moaned, afraid. How could such a girthy cock fit such a tiny, innocent, and petite girl like me? I wondered. His hand covered my mouth, pushing my trembling, sweat-soaked, body against the classroom table. He slid his cock in, and I let out a stifled, pleasured, scream at the sensation of being filled my his enormous, stiff, cock. He rocked back and forth, his curve hitting my g-spot. He groaned, threw back his head, and his adam apple bobbed with pleasure. He looked down, and we stared into each other’s eyes. I had never been so subsumed by someone’s eyes, so captivated anyone’s scent, so engrossed by the feel of skin-on-skin.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met,” he gasped.
His pace quickened, and he squeezed his eyes shut from the bliss. His beautiful, swollen, lips, brushed mine, first gently, then full of hunger. While our tongues fought for dominance, our sweat-soaked bodies formed a tangled mass, his arms under my shoulders, wrapping my torso, my legs wrapped around his hips, embracing each other with every asset of our beings. I could feel the pleasure mounting. Like this, there was little I could do to stave it off, to last any longer.
He beat me to the cry, “I’m going to cum,” he gasped, his voice rough and pleading. I groaned. My legs twitched, and my pussy cried in bliss, spilling my sweet juices all over the tables and our legs. His eyes widened in excitement. He blew a load and moaned, longer and louder than I knew him to be capable of. His head drooped, resting his forehead on mine; such was the gravity of his orgasm. His body fell, and his torso rested on mine.
“This was better than having your book signed,” I finally managed to gasp.
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