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Star Performance
Some days I'd wake up and not
even be sure
what city I was in. That's not
so unusual
when you tour with a rock and
roll band,
but as tour manager it was my
job to know.
It was my job to know lots of
things, the
hotels, the arenas, the caterers,
the VIP
list, the police department,
and the security
staff and, on unpleasant occasions,
the people
who could do us special favors.
I usually
knew what time the sound checks
were at every
place we played. But, as I learned,
sometimes
an occasional fuckup can be just
what you
needed.
I was buried in shit that morning.
The hotel
in Cleveland had cancelled our
reservations
because our lead guitarist had
trashed his
room the last time he stayed
there. The Chicago
caterer was having trouble finding
the exotic
fish our prima donna lead singer
insisted
she had to eat each Friday on
her weird diet.
To top it all off, I'd just found
out that
our drummer was getting hit with
a paternity
suit from some kid who allegedly
fucked him
last time we were in Buffalo.
It was only
a little after noon and my head
was spinning.
Maybe that's why I thought we
had a noon
sound check today. I'd already
decided to
blow it off, if they needed me
they'd call.
They always did, day or night.
When we'd check into a hotel,
I'd always
get a key for each room. In this
biz, you
got to be able to raise the dead,
the comatose,
and the brain-fried. I won't
even go into
the room trashings and other
horror shows
that keep me running all hours
of the night.
Let's just say, I need a key
to each tour
member's room so that I can get
things fixed
before they get out of hand.
I shuffled through
they key cards as I reviewed
my to-do list.
There was a fistful of promo
material for
our lead singer. I decided I'd
start by dropping
it off in her room. Little did
I know how
that decision was going to fuck
up my schedule.
I was just about to drop the
material on
a table in her suite when I heard
the moaning.
My first reaction was panic.
Why the hell
wasn't she at the sound check
was she sick,
severely hung over, or worse?
I hurried toward
her bedroom and then came to
a screeching
halt. Sound check in Buffalo
was two. Cleveland
was noon! Then I saw the wall-to-wall
mirror
in her bedroom. I was staring
at one of the
most famous butts in show business
and it
was naked. The blonde owner of
that incredible
butt had her head buried between
the legs
of a redheaded woman; at least
I prayed she
was a woman. She had small tits
with pink
nipples. They were standing firm
on her chest,
her nipples were hard. Her face
was contorted
with lust. I couldn't guess her
age. Her
knees were up, her feet planted
on the bed.
The long, shapely legs gave me
hope that
she was legal. A weird thought
ran through
my head, Tuesday's diet must
call for pussy.
If so, our star was certainly
enjoying the
meal. Her famous pear shaped
tush was rotating
and grinding, her brown-fringed
pussy peeked
from between her ass cheeks.
I wasn't surprised
by the color of her pubes. I'd
known her
since she was a brunette. I knew
she was
bi-sexual, I'd just never seen
her eat pussy
before. From the thrusting hips
and passionate
moans of the redhead, it seemed
like she
was doing a pretty good job.
I realized that if the redhead
looked into
the mirror she might see me but,
at the moment,
her eyes were closed and her
head thrown
back on the pillow. I decided
to take the
chance. Groupies who stumbled
into the rock
world quickly discovered our
world worked
on different rules. When her
idol pulled
out the double-headed dildo,
her eyes were
focused on about eighteen inches
of cock
shaped rubber. I did my best
to blend into
the furniture. This I had to
see.
They sat facing each other on
the big bed
with their legs spread. I was
now seeing
them both in profile. My singer's
36Ds made
the redhead's small tits look
even smaller
but her face gave me hope that
she was over
eighteen. Maybe not much over
eighteen but
close enough that weren't going
to be run
out of town on a rail and chased
by lawyers.
With that worry off my mind,
I could settle
back and enjoy the sight of our
star gently
inserting one end of the dildo
into a cunt
that half the teenage boys in
America had
probably thought about while
they were masturbating.
The redhead slid the other end
into her pussy
and then slid forward to hug
her new friend.
The "blonde" also slid
forward,
driving the dildo a little deeper
inside
her and returning the hug. They
kissed passionately
while gently rocking the dildo
between them.
Their hands began exploring each
other's
bodies, caressing tits, rubbing
backs and
asses, feeling each other's smooth
warm skin
while the dildo worked it's way
deeper inside
both of them and their hips began
to grind
and thrust. They held the kiss
for several
minutes. They were matching each
other stroke
for stroke, pushing each other
with deeper
thrusts. The slippery toy was
obviously working
it's magic inside them, the room
was filled
with the sweet sound of heavy
breathing women
passionately groaning. They must
have each
taken the dildo deep because
I could sometimes
hear their bodies slap together.
I rubbed my hard cock through
my tight jeans.
They were bear hugging each other,
their
sweaty tits plastered together.
Each had
her head draped over the other's
shoulder.
They were pounding their pubes
together,
sliding on the dildo buried deep
inside their
cunts, fucking hard and crying
out to each
other to fuck even harder. Their
long, shapely
well-muscled legs were thrashing
on the bed,
as their pelvises became pistons
in a machine
powered by hot female lust. I
heard the famous
voice moaning and gasping as
she cried out.
"Oh, God, I'm gonna, gotta,
fuck, oh
fuck..."
"Go for it," the redhead
panted,
"I'm with you, fucking you,
fuck me,
Ohhh..."
Their combined cries of passion
became groaning
gibberish as they thrust their
cunts together
and pushed the dildo deep into
their spastic
pussies. Wave after wave seemed
to hit them
with orgasmic power. Their naked
bodies were
trembling with the force of the
spasms inside
them.
I backed toward the door and
quietly let
myself out. I figured I probably
had enough
time to masturbate, shower and
change before
the band headed off for the sound
check.
I didn't need to hear them play.
I'd already
witnessed two star performances
today.
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