So I'm fucking this rock star...
... all right, I'm not. I never did. Not a rock star. I dated a horn player, yes. I kissed a few bass players over the years. And I've done my share of photographers, actors, and out-of-work bartenders. There was this one time at the Viper room, when my best friend and I were dancing together—body to body, her white-blonde hair mingling with my pitch black mane. (Freudian slip? I just wrote "bitch black.") I locked eyes with a well-known musician, who nodded appreciatively from his booth, and if my best friend had not been on the verge of becoming a Born-Again virgin, something might have happened.
But for all of my endless chatter about Love at First Sting this and Hurts So Good that, I have not fucked a rock 'n roll god. That's where you come in. Have you made love to a musician? Have you been a groupie, or a girl (or guy—I am an equal opportunity voyeur) who was "with the band"?Tell me.
If you haven't, don't worry. You can share a fantasy. Lie to me. Or just play make-believe.
Today, I'm giving away a copy of J is for Jealousy, which features an excellent rock 'n roll romance by Gwen Masters called "The Craziest Thing." XXX,
Alison
posted by Alison Tyler at 6:34 AM
10 Comments:
As someone who has dipped his toes in the music world from time to time, I can truthfully say that I've had lots of solo sex with a musician. (And, after all, where do you think the expression "take a solo" comes from?)
Ha, Jeremy. I never thought of it that way. Now I won't be able to get it out of my head, you bad man! :)
AT your question has me bemused. No really famous rock stars, but as I thought about it I realised every man I've been involved with was/is a musician of some sort, mostly guitarists. (I'm laughing) I've not really been a groupie in the true sense, but I've been backstage a lot at small goth rock gigs, taking photos, with friends in bands. Having said that.. my story in Dirty Girls is quite close to me. In fact the guitarist who appears in the first part of the story is based on a (cough) close friend. Damn, could he play guitar...lol
I stood in the corner of the club hidden by smoky shadows, watching Pete as he prowled around the stage. For those few hours, he belonged to the crowd, but after the show—he was mine. That knowledge made it easier to absorb the sight of him singing to and flirting with big-breasted blondes. Those girls thought they had what he wanted, but they couldn’t be more wrong.
Pete wasn’t one for the quick backstage blowjob. The other guys in the band, however, were only too happy to accept these tokens of admiration. And I can hardly blame them. I wouldn’t have turned them down either. No, what Pete wanted was entirely different.
After the final encore and the bartender’s shout of last call, I took Pete by the hand, leaving his smirking bandmates in our wake. By now they know the score. They knew what I wanted—and what he needed.
We weaved our way through the crowd and headed out the back door to the club, where we stood in a dirty, trash filled alley which was half-illuminated by moonlight. I shoved Pete up against the brick wall, and he gasped as I tore open his leather pants to reveal the black satin panties that he always wore during his gigs.
I dropped to my knees, mouthing his hard cock through the satin and inhaling the earthy scent of leather and sweat. Pete looked down at me, his wide brown eyes seeming even more pronounced from the eyeliner and mascara that he’d donned for his show. His breath came in irregular gasps as I teased his dick through that slick barrier, not really offering him any relief, but simply making his cock swell and his hunger grow.
I stood and looked him in the eyes—thanks to my four-inch heels we were nearly the same height. I pushed down on his shoulders and he immediately dropped to his knees. “You know what to do,” I told him, and he wordlessly unzipped my pants. With shaking hands, he parted the denim and pulled out what he’d been waiting for all night: the purple dildo that I’d strapped on before I dressed for the night.
I placed my hands on his faux-hawk, tugging his gel-stiffened hair to bring his face closer to my dick. He eagerly opened his lips and slowly took me in. I rocked my hips back and forth, slowly feeding him more with each thrust and enjoying the sensation of the toy’s base hitting my swollen clit. I was tempted to let him take me all the way as he knelt in the dirt amid the cigarette butts and crushed beer cans, but I had a better plan.
When Pete had gotten the toy slick enough with his own saliva, I pulled him up and made him face the wall, so I could pull his leather pants and satin panties down to his knees. I spit onto my fingers and brought them between his cheeks, teasing his rear hole and making him groan as I stretched him out. When he seemed ready, I slipped the toy between his cheeks and eased it inside his back hole. Pete let out a slow, wordless moan as I penetrated him. As soon as he was used to the sensation, I started fucking him fast and hard. I’d already arranged for the bouncer to ensure that we had total privacy, but Pete didn’t know that. I knew in the back of his head, he was worried one of his groupies might sneak out back for a smoke and see me drilling him from behind. And I knew that fear was turning him on.
The toy was pushing deliciously up against my clit with each inward thrust. I wanted Pete to come as hard as I was going to, so I reached around and started stroking him in time with my bucking hips. I won the race, coming first with a shout, and he soon followed me, decorating the trash at his feet with his release.
After we straightened our clothes, Pete turned around and looked at me. His eye makeup was smeared by a single tear trailing down his cheek, and he had a sublime smile on his face.
I knew right away—that night was in our own personal top ten.
Heh, I was the groupie. Nobody famous, sadly, just local. First a bass player, when I was barely sixteen. Then another bass player, then his best friend and guitarist. And I married him....
Being a groupie's more fun than being a wife though.
So 75% of the people I've slept with have been in bands. All long haired. I still have such aweakness for the old long hair and goatee combo.
I don't like this, Alison, you're making me reveal my pitiful mundanity and leaving me without any mystique but I have this painful inability to lie, and compulsion to divulge, so I can't help it. Damn it!
I want to know who your famous actor was - every time I se RObert Dwoney Jnr I wonder if it was him, but that would have made you Sarah Jessica Parker, wouldn't it?
Sophia's story was hot, I really enjoyed reading it. I have sadly, never had sex with anyone even remotely resembling a rock star. The only people I had sex with who were in a band was the marching band. Although I will say horn players have great mouths. *eg*
I have to give away two. One to Sophia, because, well. Damn. The other to Jo because J should be for Jo, shouldn't it?
XXX,
Alison
Glad you enjoyed the story, Suzanne!
Thanks for the book, Alison! My friends will be green with envy!
Here's a fun video clip to go with your topic du jour: http://strive2be.vox.com/library/post/nickleback-rockstar-2005.html
J is for Jo, it's true!
Well, well,let's talk about what I missed. How quite lovely, Sophia. Hot and sexy.You killed me with the black satin panties, with the effect of this sentence (I won the race... and he soon followed me, decorating the trash at his feet with his release.) but it was the single tear that nailed me completely. AT should encourage you to come around here more often.
I guess your story is among my personal top 10 now.
Cheers,
Tessa
I love your name. It sounds pretty. Like Julissa. Another name I like.
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