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What A Girl Wants	By : AEMorgan Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Bon Jovi Views: 2556 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Bon Jovi. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Jon's eyes widened and he paled, mouth opening but no sound coming out. He shook his head and closed his mouth, tongue darting out over his lips. "I… I…. Uh… I…"

"Oh, come on Jon," Heather laughed, leaning closer to him. "It's not difficult, and I'm sure you've had plenty of blow jobs before so you know what feels good." She dipped her head down, running her tongue along the length of his cock before slipping the head between her lips and sucking gently. She sat back up and grinned at the look of lust on Jon's face. Glancing back at Richie, Heather's smile grew. "Would it help if Richie sucked you at the same time?" She asked innocently. "You could just… copy what he does."

Jon opened his mouth to reply, snapping it shut at the sound of a deep moan coming from Richie. He turned to face the guitarist, stunned at the look of sheer need on his face. Glancing back at Heather, Jon nodded slowly, his own lust starting to stir again.

Heather's grin grew and she manoeuvred Jon and Richie around on the bed until she was satisfied with the positions they were in; a '69' with Richie on top and facing Heather. Nodding to herself she pulled a chair and was about to sit down to enjoy the show when Richie whispered her name.

"The cuffs?" He asked quietly, flexing the muscles in his arms.

Heather raised an eyebrow. "Stay on," she told him, leaning over and laying a sharp smack on his ass. "And you know better than to ask," she chastised him quietly, twisting the bottom of the dildo until it started vibrating gently. The effect was instant, a whimper torn from Richie's throat as he tensed and arched, hips rolling back against the vibrator, then pumping forward deep into Jon's throat, stilling only when the younger man started choking. "I was going to let you come," Heather whispered in Richie's ear, slowly pulling the vibrator out, then pushing it back in again until Richie thrust back again her. "But now I've changed my mind."

Richie whined, his head slumping forwards, breath coming in sharp pants. He watched Heather move back to face him, her hands on his head.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" She asked, forcing Richie's mouth open with her fingers and pushing his head down, watching as his lips parted and he took Jon's cock down his throat.

Nodding to herself, Heather sat down in the chair, shifting until she could comfortably watch Richie's head bobbing up and down on Jon's cock. His eyes were closed, his nostrils flaring with every breath he dragged in. Heather slumped down in the chair, spreading her legs farther apart, one hand moving to play with her breasts, the other pulling another vibrator from the cupboard and switching it on.

"Richie," she whispered, meeting his eyes as he looked up.

Richie's eyes widened as his gaze followed Heather's hand, watching as she fucked herself, speed increasing the closer to coming she brought herself. It wasn't long until she tensed in the chair, hips thrusting hard against her hand, gasping and moaning as white-hot pleasure lanced through her. The vibrator fell to the floor and she pushed herself back to a sitting position, still breathing hard as she watched Richie's talented mouth working on Jon's diamond-hard cock until a low groan was forced from Jon.

His back arching up, Jon let Richie's cock drop from his mouth, any remaining embarrassment forgotten as he focussed on his own pleasure, on reaching a second mind-blowing orgasm. Wriggling hard, Jon pushed down, forcing his cock harder into Richie's mouth, his fingers clenching and unclenching anywhere he could reach; thin air, the bed sheet, Richie's ass.

"Rich… I… Please… Oh, Fuck, Please!" Jon knew he was begging, knew he should be ashamed of the way he was acting, shamelessly writhing against Richie, fucking his mouth as best he could considering his position. And Heather was watching them, watching him. Enjoying herself. Touching herself. Bringing herself off. Jon had heard her and the thought sent fresh need coursing through him. His eyes snapped open at the feel of a warm soft hand cupping his cheek. He met Heather's eyes, blushing hard as she kissed him softly on the lips. The kiss was what sent him over the edge, falling careening headfirst into pure pleasure and he came hard, pumping hard into Richie's mouth, feeling the guitarist's throat contracting as he convulsively swallowed.

A sharp slap to his ass told Richie to move and he rolled off Jon and on to the bed, watching from under hooded eyelids as Heather and Jon kissed, narrowing his eyes as Jon started playing with Heather's breasts. She laughed and knocked his hand away, running her fingers through his sweat-soaked hair and pushing him in the direction of the en-suite, slapping his ass as he walked away. She smiled, watching Jon walk away until the door was closed, then she turned her attention to Richie.

She crawled up the bed to where he was lying on his side. Cupping his head in her hands she kissed him hard and long, their tongues lazily exploring. As she pulled away, she ran her finger down Richie's chest, giggling at the moan and wriggles the small movement elicited.

"Thank you," she whispered, leaning in and brushing her lips over his again. Another guttural moan was Richie's response. Heather pulled back slightly to look at Richie; His cock was rock-hard and red, sweat was dripping down his face and he was trembling as he struggled to stop himself coming. His eyes were dilated totally black with desire, his lips kiss-swollen and parted as he panted each breath. Reaching under Richie, Heather unlocked the cuffs from his wrists, rubbing the skin where he'd abraded it struggling against them. She moved them around on the bed until they were laying down, Richie on top of her. "Poor baby," she teased, running her finger around the head of his cock, and then sucking his pre-come off her finger. "You want to come so badly, don't you?" Richie whimpered and nodded, Heather's words hitting him like a red-hot brand, making him tremble harder. He could feel his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach, snaking up his spine and he forced himself to tamp it down. "Ask nicely," Heather suggested, even as she slid his cock into her.

Richie tensed, his back arching into a bow. "Heather… Please… Need… Want…. You…. Uh… Please!"

Heather whimpered at the sheer desperation in Richie's tone. "Fuck me, Richie!" She nibbled gently on Richie's earlobe, her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms around his shoulders.

Richie grunted and did just that, slamming his cock hard into Heather, his mouth sealing over hers as their tongues danced, their worlds shrinking until nothing existed except their need. The slap of flesh on flesh took them over and they were oblivious to everything as Jon came out of the en-suite, rubbing his hair with a towel, a towel that was dropped to the floor as he watched them for a few moments beforddindding and smiling to himself and letting himself out of both the room and the house.

~El Fin~
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