Scott smiled, enjoying the silence, and decided to head into the bathroom and put the hairspray to good use. If Clint was really schnockered, he'd be out in a matter of moments and Scott could head back to the bar and try to steal the guy that Bob had been tonguing. But, the image of Bob being so willing for a little bit of tongue started to get to Scott. He was in the bathroom and he didn't hear Clint saying anything from the room, so he figured he was passed out on the floor with the television on. Scott figured he'd probably regret it later, but he unzipped his pants, pulled them down a bit and began to work on a "hard" problem.

Meanwhile, Bob was trying to convince Stephen that it wasn't his first time with a guy. "Really, it's not. I mean, I'm not all that experienced, yeah, but on that tour... Well, let's just say all of our guy fans were incredibly attractive, but so were a lot of the girls too. I had a few of each when my hand just didn't cut it."

Stephen let out a deep laugh. "Exactly what did you have?"

Bob blushed lightly. "I gave a couple guys head. Got it from a few. The girls... they don't know anything about a good blow job. I basically just had sex with them."

"I bet you I can give head better than any of them. Any of them."

Raising an eyebrow, Bob looking at his watch and motioned with his head toward the door. "You wanna... get out of here? We could go back to my place... or your place."

Stephen shrugged. "Let's go talk to Aspen for a second. I've gotta see if she wants to use the apartment. If your brother Dave is straight, she'll end up with him tonight."

Bob stood up. "Alright, let's go."

Aspen and Dave were sensually swaying to the music together and dropping the occasional kiss in. Aspen seemed to be a master at this as she lightly nipped at his lips and sucked on the tip of his tongue. When Bob and Stephen arrived, and she noticed, she stopped swaying, but dropped a hand to Dave's thigh. He panted lightly in the smoky air of the club, but responded quickly by putting his own hand on hers and urging her to move it higher, not caring that his barely older brother stood less than a foot away with this girl's brother who could easily kick his ass. Giggling, she moved in, nibbled his ear for moment, then whispered something in his ear. Dave's eyes shot wide open and turned toward her. She smiled and turned to her brother, "Sorry. I couldn't help it. Whatcha want, bro?" Stephen pointed to Bob. Still smiling, Aspen said, "You can use the apartment. I've already been invited back to his place. We'll go there in a little while. Maybe we'll make it all the way there. I don't know when I'll be home, so don't wait up and don't do anything I wouldn't do to him."

Stephen smiled. "Sure thing. C'ya, sis." He headed off with one of Bob's hands intwined with his own.

Back at the hotel, Scott was about to hit the pleasureful throes of orgasm as he continued thinking about Bob, Taylor Hanson and, for some odd reason, Steve Buscemi. Knowing that it would be easier to catch the product of his enjoyment now than clean it up as he was out of breath, Scott looked around quickly, saw a sock, grabbed it, held it to his pulsing member and caught the stream of white that flowed disparingly from its tip as a moan escaped his lips at a high volume. Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door. Scott's eye went wide and he hurridly pulled his pants back on, took a few calming breaths and after a moment of indecision, stuffed the sock into the tissue holder on the vanity, planning to go back in an get it later. Scott opened the door, let Clint it with an innocent smile and crossed his fingers that his brother wouldn't have to blow his nose.

In Stephen and Aspen's apartment, Bob was playing the part of the tissue by being blown. He was spread-eagled on top of a baby grand piano that vibrated as Stephen hit keys accidentally while attempting to get closer to Bob to give him just a little more pleasure. Frankly, Bob didn't think he could stand much more pleasure. He felt like he was hovering at the gate of Eden. Part of him was so pleasure-filled, but the rest remained unfulfilled. Finally, he could stand it no longer and forgetting that he was the "timid" one, he grabbed Stephen's head in his hands and began a vigorous thrusting motion with his thin hips. Stephen co-operated nicely and only moments later, the pair were engulfing one another in sweat-beaded arms and embracind fervently.

Aspen and Dave eventually made their way back to his hotel. But, on the way there, Aspen took pause in front of a grocery store, told Dave to wait a moment and ran in. She came out with a small paper bag in hand, but would not show him what it contained. Now they were firmly locked in his hotel room with the do not disturb sign on the door. They quickly removed a good portion of each other's clothing and fell onto the bed with ceremonious moans as they began to fondle one another. Just when Dave was about to tear her lingerie off, she got to her knees, grabbed for the bag and pulled out a small jar of caramel ice cream topping. Dave could only smile. Undaunted, Aspen opened the jar, threw the lid across the room and set the jar down on the bedside table.

She leaned in to kiss Dave, but swooped down to his chest and kissed a trail to his underthings. She smiled, then pulled them down and tossed them, as well, into the far reachings of the area beyond the bed. She marveled at his body for a moment, staring in awe at his penis, but quickly returned to the matter at hand. She retrieved the jar of caramel and slowly drizzled a small amount across his chest. She set the jar down again and moved her lips to the first place where she saw the sticky, syrupy sweet. Using long, luxurious strokes of her agile tongue, she managed to "clean him up" quickly. Dave decided that turnabout was fair play and as she let her tongue trip the light fantastic with an errant sugary streak on his neck, he removed her bra and flipped her onto her back. He grabbed the jar of caramel and drizzled it all along her chest and stomach. He smiled mischieviously and went for her neck. Soon the pair were exhausted and, while still slightly sticky, they shared a final sweet kiss, snuggled up and went to sleep.

Seconds after Aspen and Dave collapsed in the bed after only a lot of tongue and fun, Clint came walking out of the bathroom with a crumpled sock in hand. He turned to Scott. "Hey, Scott, do you know why this sock is sticky?"

Scott struggled to keep a straight face as he shook his head. "No. Gee,do you think maybe Bob maybe a fluffernutter sandwich or something?"

Clint frowned. Then, in a very unexpected move, he brought the sock up to his mouth and tasted the white froth on it. He contemplated the taste for a moment while Scott's eyes went wide, his nostrils flared and his breath caught in his throat. It came out quickly as Clint made a face. "No. Not quite sweet enough. Actually, it tastes sort of like that really good toothpaste we used to get. Man, I bet Bob's been hoarding it."

Scott, with eyes still wide, burst into laughter. He calmed down quickly when Clint threw the sock at him. "Sorry man, but you shouldn't have done that. You don't know where that sock's been."

Clint shrugged. "To my knowledge, Bob has clean feet... Wait a minute, this is my sock! For crying out loud! Eh, eh and double eh!"

Scott giggled, but secretly thanked whoever was watching over him.

Installment #5 - He's Not My Girlfriend. - Coming Soon.