POV Dating a ROCK GODDESS (Mary Spender) (Patreon)

Just for reference before the short story, here is a picture of her unmasked form for reference.

Story time…

The room was still humming with the afterglow of the night, filled with the faint echoes of her guitar riffs and the electric energy from the crowd. I lay there, eyes closed, reliving every moment of her performance, every note she’d played, and every look she’d thrown my way from the stage. She was my rock goddess, my midnight muse. I felt her beside me, her fingers brushing mine, and she leaned close to whisper, “I’ll be right back. Gotta get ready for tomorrow.”

Before I could answer, she slipped out of bed and padded to the restroom, closing the door behind her. I waited, eyes closed, feeling the rhythm of my heartbeat slow. And then… something shifted. I heard a low, throaty sound, a noise that was almost like a laugh—but deeper, richer, like it came from somewhere wild. I frowned, sitting up slightly. Then came a flash, a burst of light so intense I had to shield my eyes, followed by a crackle, like distant thunder in the middle of a storm. It felt as if the air itself was vibrating.

When I finally dared to open my eyes, there she was. Mary was lying next to me, nestled in the sheets, but she wasn’t the same Mary who had walked into that restroom a moment ago. Her skin was a flawless shade of jade green, smooth and luminous, glowing with an otherworldly sheen. Her lips were painted a deep, inviting shade of blue, curling into a grin that seemed both familiar and impossibly wicked, as though she knew a secret I could only dream of. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, larger and more expressive than I remembered, as if they were windows to a world where anything was possible.

Her hair cascaded around her shoulders, glossy and dark, framing her face with an elegance that seemed almost too perfect. But it was the dress that took my breath away—a daring, red, sequined masterpiece that clung to her in all the right ways. The fabric shimmered with every subtle movement, each sequin catching the light and scattering it across the room. The neckline plunged low, exposing a tantalizing amount of cleavage that seemed almost too bold for the Mary I knew, yet perfectly suited to this transformed vision of her. The dress hugged her curves like a second skin, the sequins tracing every line, every contour, making her look like a goddess born from the flames of desire itself.

She lay there, propped on one elbow, watching me with that dazzling grin, her green skin practically glowing against the white sheets. “Surprise,” she purred, her voice like velvet, each word dripping with a mix of playfulness and seduction. The Mary I knew was still there, but now she was something more—something wild, something dangerous, something utterly captivating.

In that moment, as she leaned in, her green face framed by waves of dark hair and sequined red, I knew I was in for the ride of my life.