Der Perfekte Drier (The Perfect Threesome) - A Rammstein Fanfiction

Diamant

By the time Greytomb hit the stage, I was starting to feel the effects of the constant rounds of beer being bought for me. Till on the other hand, despite the amount he was drinking, seemed stone cold sober. It felt nice, being out on a date with a beautiful person who cared about me. He was sweet, funny and just the right amount of cheeky. We spent the next two hours headbanging along and moshing in the pit which seemed to burn off a lot of the alcohol.

At the end of the gig, I felt my phone vibrate and I dug through my bag to find it. It was from Richard.

"What are you doing tonight?"

I raised an eyebrow. This was clearly a booty call.

"I'm on a date" I respond.

"With who?"

Was that envy mixed with a bit of jealousy?

"One guess"

"Of course. You two have a good night"

The conversation abruptly ends in those few cold words. I couldn't explain it but a small pang of sadness lingered.

Till poked his head over my shoulder. "Who was that?" He kisses my neck tenderly. "Jeez you're both as bad as each other" I laugh. His face changed, almost darkened, for a split second. "Ah. Richard. I didn't tell him I was taking you out tonight" Till looked away. "Have you told anyone about, well, this?" I ask, kind of hurt that he kept this to himself. "I have. Look it's complicated. Just please forget about it?" He begged. I would not, I thought. "Ok, I don't want whatever it is to spoil our night" I smile and lie through my teeth as I lean in to kiss him.

After the Greytomb gig, it was pretty much fair game and we ended up at some goth night in the CBD. The music was pounding and the dance floor was a sea of fishnet, PVC and black. Lots of black. A few more friends came over to say hey but my mind never seemed to leave the text and the weird conversation. What did he mean? Was there something I wasn't seeing? I had to find out, I decided. I'd have to stay sharp and do some poking around.

Till and I found ourselves on the dance floor. He pulled me in and held me close. Not so much in a slow dance kinda way, more of a when-she-grinds-on-me-I-wanna-feel-it, holding on to me in all the places that would usually be deemed "inappropriate". This only encouraged me to dirty dance, bumping and grinding in all the right places.

His hand began to migrate from my hips to my thigh and I was curious about what this devious man was up to. I shouldn't have bothered wondering. The hem of my dress was inched further and further up until his hand slid under the hem of my dress. His fingers brushed my underwear and he made a face at me. I wink at him and nudged his hand, encouraging him to continue. I knew that look. He felt that lace and he knew he was in.

I felt the lace shift and his fingers grazed my clit. I had to fight back a flinch so it didn't look too obvious. He tilted my chin up and looked into my eyes. He was enjoying the gentle torture he was inflicting. He kissed me, his tongue gliding over mine. I was beginning to feel warm between my legs, aside from his hand. I grabbed the hand that was under my dress and drag him by it to the nearby bathroom.