Okay, this is my first postable shot at erotica. As I said, THIS FANFIC IS RATED NC-17!!! If you don't want to read about Kevvysex, turn away NOW!!

Now that I've warned you, here it is, and please don't laugh at how cheesy it is

"Anna Anastasia"
by KevinHearnRules

Kevin looked so innocent lying next me. The moonlight illuminated his smooth, soft skin, giving him a boyish appearance. I watched his bare chest, half-covered by the comforter, rise and fall in a rhythmic pattern as he slept. His lips and teeth were slightly parted, and it was so silent in the room that I could hear him breathe. A wayward lock of hair dangled in front of his forehead, so I gently brushed it away. He looked so sweet and angelic when he slept that I always felt guilty after every time we fucked. I always felt like some sort of wicked tempress seducing a younger man, even though he was older than I was.

I wanted to lay there all night, even if it meant getting caught. We knew how bad it would look if he was caught sleeping with one of the few female members of the crew, especially since I was his keyboard and guitar tech. We'd been sneaking around almost since he'd joined the band, however, and we'd gotten pretty good at it. We first met on the Born on a Pirate Ship tour, when both of us were new. It started out as nothing more than "innocent flirtations"; I'd caught him several times sneaking a peak at my cleavage or stealing a glance at my ass whenever I bent over. I can't say I was innocent, either. I'd check him out every chance I got.

I think it was the fact that we were new to the band that made us nervous about talking to each other back then. The first time we actually talked was one day, when I was dismantling the keyboard set-up after a show. He'd accidentally left his Hugo doll on stage and came back to get it. I accidentally backed into him as I was standing up from disconnecting some cables, and we both started laughing. We both said "Sorry," and laughed again. Then, he told me about his doll, which led to other topics, and we talked until Fin came to scold him for holding the bus up. Before he left for the bus, he asked me to have drinks with him sometime. We did at the next tour stop, and that was where he first kissed me. It was in a darkened nook in the corridor of the hockey arena they were playing at. It was about five minutes before they were supposed to be onstage, and the others were having what they called their "last minute bathroom blasts." Kevin took me by the arm and led me to this little nook, where he confessed to me that he'd wanted to kiss me ever since he first saw me. He then leaned in and kissed me softly on the mouth. I was then forever and hopelessly hooked on Hearn.

That was six years ago, and we were still together, though we always hesitated to call what we had, a "relationship." It always ended after every tour. I wasn't sure why. We were just different people when we weren't on tour, I guess. Maybe it was the thrill of sneaking around that ignited the passion between us, and with that thrill gone, so was the spark. Every tour, we'd say it was the last time between us. Each of us even had a significant other back home, perhaps only to create the illusion of it being over between us, but when each new tour started, we'd run back into each other's arms.

I rolled over and kept gazing longingly at his innocent, boyish face. We'd always joked about the fact that the "Innocent Catholic choirboy" persona he projected onstage was totally the opposite of the real Kevin Hearn. He'd even fooled me the first time we'd gotten intimate. He'd told me he was a virgin and didn't know what he was doing. He lied. Kevin was an absolute animal in bed. When we'd finished, I'd said to him, "I thought you said you'd never done this before?" He responded with that choirboy smile of his.

I felt his long, calloused fingers sliding up and down my body. I turned and looked into his blue eyes and he smiled at me.

"Anna," he whispered as he sat up. "Anna Anastasia." That was his nickname for me. He joked that he'd written the song "Anna Anastasia" for me, just because my name is Anna, and ever since then, he'd call me "Anna Anastasia."

"Kevvers," I whispered back.

He ran his fingers through my sandy-colored hair, then he leaned in and kissed me gently on the mouth. His lips were soft and smooth, almost as if they'd never been chapped a day in his life. He kissed me again; this time, harder and longer. His hand was on the back of my head with his thumb near my ear. As soon as I felt his tongue, I knew I was lost once again. My hands were on his chest and I caressed his pecs, gently rubbing his nipples with my thumbs. My hands moved down to his stomach and around to his firm ass. I then moved one hand down to his inner thigh and fondled his already-erect penis. I lay down on the bed and let him slide over on top of me. I let out a soft groan as I felt him slip inside of me. He nuzzled my neck, which he knew I liked. I got wet almost as soon as I felt his warm breath on my neck. Every breath he took and every thrust he made seemed to fall in some sort rhythmic pattern. Being a musician, Kevin had a natural sense of rhythm, and he knew of its advantages in bed.

I locked my legs around his and returned every one of his thrusts. He pulled his lips away from my neck temporarily and let out a low moan. I could feel every muscle in his back ripple and twitch and the hot sweat running off of his body. Kevin always got very sweaty. During shows, he'd have to change his shirt several times because he'd sweat so much, and sex was no different. The sweat ran off of his body and onto mine, creating a natural lubricant between us. I sucked a droplet off of his earlobe and heard him sigh in ecstasy. His rhytmn changed and he began thrusting faster and harder. I could feel a terrific orgasm coming on.

That was when the door opened, the lights came on, and we were interrupted. This night happened to be one of the nights where the band had to double up. The other Ladies had gone out to a hockey game, and we figured they wouldn't be back until late. Unfortunately, we'd forgotten to take into consideration that Jim wasn't into hockey as much as the others, and therefore, wouldn't hang around afterward to mingle with the players. Now, he was standing in the doorway, jaws agape and eyes as wide as hockey pucks.

"Wh-what are you guys, uh, doing?" the redhead asked. Apparently, the shock had caused his neurons to shut down and he couldn't figure out what on earth Kevin could possibly be doing with his dick inside of me.

"What the fuck does it look like?" Kevin growled between his teeth.

"Is...is that who I think it is?" Jim stammered. His cheeks had turned as red as his hair. "Oh my God...that IS Anna! Oh man, Fin is gonna shit when he hears about this!"

"Whoa, wait!" said Kevin. He'd finally come to his senses and realized that he should probably get off of me if he was going to debate with Jim. "What do you mean ‘when Fin hears about this'? You're not going to tell him, are you?"

"Kev, I have to tell him! You're fucking your keyboard tech ferchrissakes!"

"First of all, Jim, shut the door if you're going to yell stuff out loud like that. Secondly, it's nobody's business who I fuck! I'm a grown man and I can fuck whoever I want!"

"Yeah, well, what you're doing is wrong. She's an employee, you've got a girlfriend, and she's got a boyfriend. Besides, I couldn't live with myself if I kept this from Fin. What if he finds out some other way, and then finds out that I knew about it all along and didn't say anything? Kevin, you're my friend and all, but I'm not willing to put my ass on the line for you just so you can get laid!"

"You're jealous!" Kevin snapped back. "You're jealous because ‘innocent little Kevvy' is getting some and you're not!" He picked up the boxer shorts he'd discarded many hours ago and pulled them on.

"Fuck you," Jim spat. "I'm telling Fin and that's that!" He slammed the door behind him as he stormed out.

My poor keyboardist was red in the face, and his anger showed even more as he hastily dressed himself. He didn't even seem to care that his t-shirt was on backwards. He stomped over to the door, but stopped and turned to look at me. He had the "lost puppy" look in his eyes. I pulled the covers up to the top of my chest.

"Go," I said. "Don't worry. I'll be here when you get back."