One day, Bono was heading to band practice at Larry's house. He was late because he had been discharging the viking back at home. He rang the doorbell, and Larry answered with a scowl on his face.
“You’re late,” he said, a drumstick in his hand.
“Yeah, my bad,” smiled Bono as he walked inside. In the living room, he found Adam with a cigarette hanging out his mouth and Edge hard at work at his guitar. So they sat down and practiced. But the entire time, Larry seemed preoccupied. Finally, when the drums fell apart on a song, Adam had had enough.
“Larry, what the hell is the matter with you? You seem a little preoccupied,” he frowned.
Larry bit his lips and looked down at his drum kit. He was preoccupied, but could he trust his three best friends with this sort of question?
“Larry?” asked Edge, concern for his friend across his face.
Larry sighed and shrugged. “Never mind, it’s nothing. I’m fine,” he said.
Bono had seen that look before, and he furrowed his brow. “Now, Larry, if we’re going to get anywhere, we need to be open with each other. Now, what is the matter?”
Larry mustered up his courage. “Okay, I’ll spill,” he said, as the other three gathered around him, setting down their instruments.
He swallowed and started talking. “Well, sometimes, when I’m in my bed at night…I get these…urges.”
“Urges? What kind?” asked Edge, fearing the worst.
“Well, sometimes,” Larry gulped, and barely whispered the next part, “I feel like…like…masturbating.”
He said the word as if the Wrath of God would descend upon him.
The three other breathed a sigh of relief.
“Is that all?” asked Adam. “Taking your turn at the Governor?”
“Banging Henry Longfellow?” asked Edge.
“Beating your power cord?” added Bono.
Larry looked at the other three, eyes-wide. “You mean, you guys do it, too? You all wonk the light saber?”
“Of course we do!” smiled Adam. “In fact, we do it together all the time!”
“Together!?” screamed Larry.
“Yah,” smiles Edge. “In fact, my one-eyed pirate could really use a badgering. You mind, B?”
“Not at all,” said Bono, as Edge walked into the guest bedroom and threw himself on the bed, face up. Bono followed and unzipped Edge’s pants, pulling out his one-eyed yogurt thrower and beginning to scratch eagerly.
“Mmm, Bono, I love it when you whack my white-out pen,” crooned Edge.
“Well, Edge, you know how I enjoy slapping high-fives with the primate,” replied Bono, grinning and working a cramp out of the czar.
Meanwhile, Adam watched the action with a smug grin and Larry just gaped. Adam saw this, and tsk-tsked as he walked over to Larry.
“Why are you staring, Larry? Do you like to watch?” whispered Adam. Larry turned his shocked face to Adam.
“What are you talking about? This is wrong, Adam!” he protested.
“Then why are you getting off on it?” asked Adam, grasping Larry’s already-hard cock through his jeans. Immediately, all of Larry’s inhibitions melted.
“Well, maybe its not…that wrong,” he purred.
“Let’s join the others, shall we?”
And so Adam and Larry went into the guest bedroom to join the other half of the band. Edge was enjoying himself, letting Bono being rough with his poodle.
Before Larry knew it, Adam had unzipped his pants, took out his one-eyed trouser trout, and had begun to do a loop-de-loop with it.
“Ooh, that feels pretty good,” moaned Larry.
“Don’t you like it when I scrape your Prince Charles sound with love oil?” asked Adam.
“Yeah, baby,” Larry purred, biting his lips. “Chill my purple-headed custard chucker!”
“But now, you see,” said Adam, hoisting Larry’s cow, “We also get something in return.” He took Larry’s hand in his and guided it to his erection. Larry nodded dumbly, drunk with lust, and took out Adam’s dick. Then he began to play ping-pong with the wild hog. Adam loved it and moaned and thrashed around.
They soon moved to the bed and fell onto it, side by side with Bono and Edge. Edge smiled, stopped getting in touch with Bono’s corn, and sat up.
“You know guys, let’s try shaking the coconut milk of love from the throb knob in a circle!” he exclaimed.
“Oh, Edge, you’re always the creative one,” said Adam, leaning over and shoving his tongue down Edge’s throat. This left Bono alone, so he began to make out with Larry, who liked it a lot. Soon, they had all grabbed each other’s man-meat, and situated themselves into a circle. Adam was grappling Edge’s family jewels, Edge was battling Bono’s yak till it spat back, Bono was going a couple of round with Larry’s tower of power, and Larry was saying hello to Adam’s donkey.
“Yeah, strip my staked vampire 'til he flames up!” moaned Larry.
“Oh, Edge, I love it when you do the five-knuckle-snuffle on Mr. Barbell,” panted Bono.
Edge joined in by nearly screaming, “Beat that skin bus! Yah! Thwack that ham! Lube the presidential staff!”
They were all to point of coming together when Adam finally exclaimed, “Spit-polish the Thurmond! Ugh, rough up Stonehenge! Yeah!”
What sent them all over the brink was Bono crooning, “Fuck! Punch my Cyclops till he throws up!”
They all came really hard. Exhausted, spent, and glowing, they all fell into a heap of sweaty boys on the bed, panting.
“So, Larry, you don’t think these urges are bad anymore, do you?” Adam smiled.
“No,” Larry admitted, blushing. “But I have one learned one thing!”
“What’s that?” asked Edge.
“Next time I want to tenderize my helmet, I’m coming to you guys first!”
(c) Kate Finneran 2003-4
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