The After Show Party free porn video

Copyright, 2012, Patricia Steel ([email protected])

Do whatever you want with this story, only keep my name attached, please. Please report any and all orgasms arrived at through reading and masturbating to these words. I love knowing that I am deliberately manipulating your mind into an erotic state. Thanks, and Enjoy.


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The after-show party Part 1

I don’t know how or why. I never won anything before in my life. It was some sort of promotion from his fan club. Meet and Greet before the show… VIP concert tickets, and then an invitation to the after-show party, and knowing T—-, it would be a great party.

Meeting T—- before the show was fantastic. I knew he was a big man, but over my 5’ 6”, he was an absolute giant. I didn’t even come up to his massive chest, and when he hugged me, for the photo shoot, my face was crushed into his abs, and there wasn’t a place I would have rather been right there and then. T—-’s light flannel shirt was open, and hanging out of his faded, worn jeans, and the feel of his slightly hairy muscular body against me was overpowering. I could feel myself becoming aroused at this simple contact.”

My boyfriend knew about the “triple header” event, and he even said to me, “Tina, baby, If, by some odd chance, you get the opportunity to get fucked by T—-, you take it, otherwise, you’re going to regret it the rest of your life.” That thought immediately sprung to mind the minute I felt T—-’s touch upon my shoulder, for the photo-op hugs. But of course, I expected no such opportunity to present itself. I was just a middle-aged woman, who had given birth to 3 kids, and had the body to prove it. I was no “barbie-doll” like I always saw T—- with at social events, and I’m sure that was his type for “playtoys”.

We talked a little at the Meet and Greet. He didn’t “seem” like a multi-platinum C&W music star. He seemed more like the guy who towed away my last POS car — but a lot better looking, and wayyy more muscular. Some folks say that he wears “risers” in his boots, but he was barefoot at the Meet and Greet, and STILL he towered over everyone there. He had really big sexy feet, also. He gave me the “after show party pass” himself, and showed me to the tour bus, where it all was happening after the show, so I’d know where to go afterwards.

Then he turned to me and asked “How long you stayin’ with us?”

I just stood there, probably with my jaw on the floor…. ”How long can I stay? My bag is at the hotel.”

“I can have someone take care of that for you, just write down the name of the hotel, the address, and room number, and they’ll go get your stuff for ya’. And you can stay as long as you want, or at least until we finish this leg up in Portland Maine, oh, in 5 weeks, if you want to hang out with us that long. We don’t have near enough women-folk on that bus, let me tell ya.” and he gave me a big grin, and adjusted his cowboy hat back on his head a little further. My heart raced like it was going to explode!!

I did some quick figuring.. Marriage — DEAD.. Boyfriend — UNDERSTANDING — Children — DON’T NEED OR WANT ME. Job — NONEXISTENT.

“Yeah, thanks!! I think that sounds like a lot of fun… who do I give the information to??”

T—- told me who to see, and gave me a quick kiss, which left me dumbstruck, and tasting Jose Cuervo, and told me he’d see me after the show…

With my set of Lanyards, I was escorted to the VIP concert seating area off to the side of Stage Right.. From there, I could see all the many things that go on in the production of a show. Some very skillful and amazing coordination, but also some rampant silliness and fun. I was also really amazed at how much T—- and his band perspired under the hot lights. I’d always heard about the heat of the lights, but never understood it until then.

When the set was done, and T—- was waiting for his encore call, he came and stood by my, dripping, wiping his face and hair with a towel. He said, “When we’re done here, follow me back to my dressing room. There ain’t no shower, and I can use your help gettin’ cleaned up — fuckin’ cheap venues.”

Again, jaw on the floor, until my mind switched gears… “OK, I’ll be right behind you.”

The encore, always his patriotic hit, worked him up into even more of a lather, and when all was done, he ran past me, grabbing my hand, and dragging me along with him. We went down into a sort of “sub basement” where all the dressing rooms were, and there, in stenciled letters on a grey steel door was his name. The paint there was very thick. I guess they just kept on painting over the same spot for each new “star”. We ran inside, and he locked the door behind us, and immediately kicked off his boots, and began undressing.

“There’s a utility sink over there on the left, darlin’, and a mess of towels… get a towel nice a wet and warm for me — ya can’t ride an old stud hard, and put him away cold and wet. They didn’t even give me any soap, the cheap fuckers. Do me a favor, and go next door, and see if any of the boys have any soap.”

“O-o-oK”

I unlocked the door, and walked about 20 feet to the next door, which simply had the word “band” stenciled on it. I knocked, and a naked man answered the door, who said, “Well, come on in, darlin’!!” Which I did… Not a lot of modesty on the road, I guess…. ”What can we do you for?” One of the technicians I remembered from the show, asked me — he was mostly dressed.

“T—- wanted to know if anyone had any soap??”

“Fucker — he never brings anything with him… just sponges everything off of us….. yeah, here, give the cheap fucker mine” — and he tossed me a brand-new bar of Irish Spring — still in the wrapper.

I stood there for one more minute, and looked around at all the “guy candy” walking around the room, trying to get cleaned up as best they could, with no showers — and the thought occurred to me that there were more swinging pendulums in that room, than in a clock-shop…. giggling to myself, I left the way I came.

I returned to T—-’s room, soap in hand. ”Oh, thanks, darlin’… I knew you’d come in handy. Let’s see what else you’re handy at?? Get that towel warm and wet again, and get it all soapy.” — and with that, my celebrity crush of the last 10 years stripped down totally — not that there was much to it.. just jeans and his open flannel. No underwear — No socks… Not much to it. When I turned around, I dropped the soap, just out of pleasant shock.

“Dontcha know you never drop the soap when you’re with a naked man, darlin’?”

He stood there, legs spread, arms above his head, and said to me “Come on, baby, here’s the chance of a lifetime for ya’ — do your worst!”

Not having washed someone like this, since, what, my youngest son was 2 or 3 — I got down on one knee and washed up one leg, and down the other, trying my best not to face the one-eyed monster that was staring back at me. When those legs were clean, though, I couldn’t help it, I had to wash it.

It was already stretched out, at something like attention, from my having washed his legs and thighs, but the moment I started touching it with the soapy wet towel, it basically turned from a nice, little boa constrictor, into an anaconda, right there in my hands. I heard T—- light a cigar.

Still on one knee, staring this thing down, never seeing an uncut cock of such tremendous proportions, T—- took the cigar out of his mouth, and said, “decisions, decisions… To Suck or not to Suck, that is the question…. well, darlin’ — whatever the answer is, it ain’t gonna suck itself, that’s for certain.” — He took the soapy towel from my hand, and finished washing himself, his long abs, massive chest, shoulders, arms and back. He balled up the towel, and tossed it, right into the utility sink, and yelled “2 points” — what?? no reward for makin’ a basket?? I promise I’ll make it worth your while, darlin’— ah fuck, sucking cock wasn’t one of my favorite pastimes, but what the hell, he was really wanting it, I could tell, and he was so sweet about asking for it, so, grabbing the cushion off the dressing room sofa for my knees, and pushing him ass-up-against the make-up counter — about the height of a kitchen counter, I began…

Getting that monstrous foreskin back off the fun part was tougher than I thought… that’s how hard he had gotten, and how big he was… he wasn’t as big around as a beer can, but not a fuck of a lot smaller, either… my jaws hurt, taking him all in, all the way to the back of my mouth, and my nose still wasn’t touching hair… my ex husband — well, I never did this for him, and my boyfriend…. well… back when he could get hard, he was almost as big around as he was long… but that wasn’t all that big… no, T—- had the biggest instrument I had ever seen on a white boy, that’s for sure… and it came with its own case… {{smirk}}

I was just thinking how I was gonna get this thing all the way in, and T—- grabbed the back of my hair and said, “Looks like you need a little lesson in snake swallowin’” and with that, he swung me around, mostly by the hair, but I grabbed up and caught his hands, until I was seated on the floor with my head leaned back onto the sofa cushions…. he crawled up on the sofa, so his knees were on either side of my head, and he put that monster back to my lips, which I opened, this time, with more fear, but greater curiosity than before… This time, that monstrous cock went all the way back, and it’s natural curve aided it in its natural passage down into my larynx, that big bulbous head making a home for itself in my vocal chords. Every time I would try to use these same vocal chords, he would moan in pleasure, and, I soon realized that their vibration was what was getting him off… the tremendous amount of mucous, also, from my gagging on this Oklahoma Sausage was aiding in his lubrication, and soon, with his hands on his hips for balance, he basically skull-fucked me and just used me as a warm, wet, fuck-hole for his pleasure… and in those 10 or 15 minutes… something changed in our relationship… yeah, I was going to go along on the tour… Nothing could stop me at this point, but not only that, I was going along as “his” fuck-slave — not just his care-taker — not just his groupie — his totally devoted, nothing was too much, fuck slave….. and I was going to love it…… I knew I would….




The after-show party Part 2

Every so often, he’d pull part way out… just into my mouth, so that I could catch my breath, and, when I was back to myself, he’d plunge that Okie Viper back down into me… Suddenly his thrusts grew faster — more urgent… he pulled out completely and said, with a breathy voice, “You want this in your mouth?”

I was still catching my breath, so I just nodded, frantically, yes….

He spun around, straddling my shoulders with his knees, and pulling back his sheath — yeah, it was more of a sheath-like a horse has than a “foreskin”— like a boy — and laid the head and that sensitive spot underneath the head, right on my tongue, and a silly thought entered my brain, remembering the communion I took back when I used to go to church — and I thought “oh, I’m going to hell” — “The Penis of your sex god, given for you…” I took that god-offered gift, and surrounded it with my warm, wet, slimy (from all the mucous he pumped from my throat) mouth, and I put a lot of pressure on the “special spot” with my tongue, and started working it in and out as quickly as I could. I looked up, and could see T—-’s head thrown back in ecstasy… Soon, he was making a low, groaning sound, and I starting really moving my tongue, and quickened the pace even more… ”That’s the spot, darlin’” he croaked, and he started pumping my mouth a little, but more gently than before…. and then, those massive hands came down, and held my head, as he pumped rapid, mini-strokes into my mouth, which I made as tight as possible, and suddenly, with a roar, more like a lion than a man, he flooded me with what felt like about two cups worth of Oklahoma Hot Sauce….. and I managed it all… every last bit of it, gulping as fast as I could, him pushing his cock back into my throat to feel each swallow, and groaning with each gulp…..

The boy knew how to get a proper blowjob, and wasn’t afraid to show a girl how to do it proper, neither…

He crumpled to the floor, right next to me, his big right arm encircling all of me, and his right hand resting on my right breast — not in an erotic way, but, I never wear a bra, and the touch was electrifying just the same. I reached into my pocked for my cigarettes, and lighter, and lit one… and he took it out of my mouth and said, “I need one, too, darlin’”. So I lit another, and said, “we need an ashtray.”…

“FUCK THAT!!” he yelled… ”Cheap ass venue.. no showers… dressing rooms in the basements… use the fucking carpet, darlin’”….

He looked up at the clock above the dressing counter… ”11:20 Party starts at midnight, baby… and I always show up late… We gotta get cleaned up, but what else should we do to waste time… I hate fuckin’ TV, other than Oklahoma State sports, and the occasional movie. Not enough time to get something to eat… We could probably start gettin’ drunk, or stoned — or we could fuck…. or all three, if you want….”He looked straight ahead, with the most devilish grin you’ve ever seen.

He helped me up, and we both sat on the highback office chairs, that served as “dressing chairs” at this place… we smoked some more of my cigarettes, talked a little about the tour, and how, for some reason, they hadn’t accumulated their usual share of groupies, whom, he said, they really rely on, to take care of them, as far as keeping their clothes clean, helping them change between sets, helping them shower and change, getting them food, booze, weed, and yes, helping them with sex, so they’re not bringing diseases home to their families. A 12 week tour for musicians without sex — well — it just wouldn’t happen, and there wouldn’t be such things as tours…. For T—- and his band, and crew, groupies were like mothers who fucked them — OK.. I got the drift of this… And so I asked… “If I’m gonna do this, can I just do this for you?? I mean, I don’t have to do this for any of the other boys, if I don’t want to, right??”

Darlin’ you don’t need to do anythin’ if you don’t want to, but well, I’m hopin’ you might help one or two of the boys out once in a while… maybe not with the fuckin’ part, because ole T—- will probably have you fucked half dead most times (devlish grin again) but maybe with their clothes, and booze and weed and such, if’n you want to, that is. But don’t you worry, if we pick up any more girls, you’re still the “leadin’ lady”, cuz you’re with me, got it?”

I just shook my head more like a faithful doggie, than a sophisticated woman of nearly 40.

T—- got us 2 red Solo cups outta his travel bag, and a bottle of Jack — and he poured me half a cup — Jeez — If I drank that, I’d be sick as a dog, “You got any mixers??” I asked.. “Yeah… there’s a “courtesy fridge” over in the corner… I don’t know what’s in it.. they’re actually making me pay for whatever is used out of it, but you go ahead, darlin’ — you’re worth it….” So, I virtually ran over to the fridge, found some 7-Up, and filled the cup full, swooshing it around as I poured… I put the half can back, yelling to T—- “There, I only used half a can, make sure you only pay for the half can…” and I giggled like a school girl…

I came back and sat right on the dressing counter, and used T—-’s naked thighs as a leg-rest… how long they were, and his long abs — not chiseled into a 6-pack — but you could tell there was real power underneath the little bit of body fat he had… and his pecs…. oh my — I could lay my head on those forever….

“This isn’t fair.” he smiled. ”Me being buck-naked, and you having all your clothes on… and not waiting for me to agree, started taking off my sneakers, socks, and lifted me right off the counter, and stood me on his thighs, with me holding onto his shoulders for support… in a second, my capris and underwear were down at my knees, and he yelled to me, “Hang on, Darlin’” and with that, he picked me up, and threaded my legs through the spaces under the arms of the office chair, and I was sitting, facing his chest, my arms still on his shoulders, but my vagina, now dripping, was just rubbing the underside of his cock, which my body had pinned to his belly…. he gave a low groan…

“There, that’s better”, he whispered….

His hands let go of my waist, which they very nearly encircled, even though my waist is not that small, and came to the front of my shirt, which, he ripped the top of, right down to the bottom, as easily as if it were paper…. I objected “hey, what am I to wear out of here??” — “Oh, I have a couple shirts in my bag… you’ll wear one of those to the party, besides, It’s always a sign to the other boys, tellin’ them “hey, I got mine, where are yours??”” — Somehow, the idea of being “branded” sounded very sexy and appealing to me — being shown to the world that I was “his property” — at least for a few weeks — yeah, I liked that.

Shirt ripped open, breasts exposed, he pulled me tight to him, by the small of my back. Oh, the feel of the hair, and the strength of his torso against mine…. I’m sure if I was dripping before, I was gushing now. He pulled me up just a little, so that I could kiss around his throat and neck, I guessed…. He must like, I figured, and so I went right to it…. I kissed, and sucked and kissed all the way around his neck, and soon, even though I was probably 12 inches above his lap, I felt an intruder at the gates. This sent a chill through me, and I gasped. I’m sure he was aware of what was happening as well. And he lowered me gently onto his monster. And he bottomed out against my cervix before he was all the way in. it hurt, but no pain would be too much to please him. I whispered up to him “go slow, and it’ll all fit in, I’m sure.”

So, grabbing my ass cheeks with those gigantic hands, and using the chair arms as a fulcrum for those long forearms, he began to lift and drop me slowly, each time dropping me a little further down upon his monstrous cock, which, amazingly, still seemed to be getting larger. It was the same as before. He had three sizes, “soft, massive, and Gihugic” and right now, he was working towards the latter of these. My vagina was changing shape to accommodate him, as vaginas will do, if you give them enough time. Slowly, gently, and after what seemed like 10 minutes, he managed to get himself all the way in. Now, we could actually both concentrate on enjoying ourselves.

Now, down all the way, the massive thickness of him pressed the excess flesh of my labia against my clitoris, bringing it out of its little home, and being even further stimulated by the thick, stiff hair of T—-’s lower abs and pubes…. at this point, I wasn’t even thinking in words anymore… at least not human words, and I just put my arms around T—-’s neck, and “hung on for dear life” —- I couldn’t see anymore, and I’m sure my eyes had rolled up in my head, such a powerful orgasm was building inside, and then, wow, it happened, I grabbed T—-’s neck so powerfully, I’m sure I must have injured him, and I started with a moan that continued both on the inhale and the exhale, until it built into a scream…… I wanted, no, I needed T—- to stop, so that it would stop, but he didn’t, and it didn’t…. it continued until it built up another energy wave, about 5 minutes later, and exploded once more…… after this one, he picked me up, one arm behind my shoulders and another behind my ass, and he all but threw me onto the dressing counter. He put both my legs up and out over his upper arms, and held me down by my shoulders with those big hands, and now, wow… now he was drilling…. way past the previous depths of anything I had ever thought possible in a vagina… I’m not sure he wasn’t inside my cervix. Fuck— I didn’t care what he was doing… I needed a break, and the pain was kind-of a break for me, as pain didn’t arouse me, but neither did it turn me off. Now he pumped, and pumped fast, and pumped deep… I’d had 2 kids vaginally, so I wasn’t going to be the tightest vagina he’d ever experienced… but he was pumping fiercely… I started doing vaginal muscle contractions, hoping that would please him, and immediately, he started that low groan… I contracted, and held tight… yeah, that pushed him over the edge…

“Inside?” was all he could get out.

“you go ahead baby… I’m totally safe…”

And in a few minutes… that same roar and then moan, but he kept pumping, and I kept doing contractions… He kept this up for a few minutes, and then, oddly, he started picking up the pace… “I guess I’m up for another round already!!”

“Oh honey… That particular hole isn’t though.. And neither is my jaw… we’re gonna have to try door #3” — [Did I just invite T—- to fuck me up the ass? — I guess I did.]

With a big, wicked grin, T—- grabbed a cap from an aerosol can, and pulled out of me with a moan from me, and a groan from him…. and he caught all the goop that shot out, and there was a lot more than the aerosol cap would hold.

Scooping some of it onto his finger, he started working it into my ass…. Oh, christ, the start of another explosion began at that very instant, even though I knew it was far off. Then more goop, and another finger, and another level of excitement from me… more goop was running down from my vagina right onto his fingers, and he inserted a third, which he just left motionless there for a time, before moving them in and out.

With his left hand, he put a little of the goop on his cock, and fapped (jacked) himself a little, to maintain that “stage 2” hardness, and in a minute, all was ready…

Smearing a lot of goop on the head of his monster, he pushed, and I resisted, which caused me additional pain, but I couldn’t keep up the resistance, and the second I let down my guard, he was in at least 6 inches…. “FUCK” I yelled… ”You OK Darlin’?? Remember, you’re the one who invited this thing in your gut…” and he laughed a little… “I’m like a vampire, darlin’ once you invite me, you can’t uninvite me, and I’ll always keep comin’ in….” — I lay there hoping that was true — at least until the tour was over… because this was the hottest sexual experience of my entire life… My ex-husband was just pathetic… My boyfriend, well, I met him when I was reaching my peak, and he was, due to illness, losing his ability to perform, even though I loved him dearly, and although I was cultivating a relationship with an outside lover — a “fuck-friend” if you will — someone I know and love — It just hasn’t gone anywhere, but wow. this was wayyyyyy over the top.

More goop on his cock, and he was all the way in… yeah, it was painful, and gave me an uncomfortable feeling in my gut, it was really hitting some important spots inside me that hadn’t been hit in like, “forever” — and I’m not sure truthfully, if they were ever hit. He brought himself almost all the way out — until the tip of that gargantuan was inside my rectum, and I learned to squeeze as tight as I could when it was, before thrusting back inside all the way… that’s how it went for the most part. and, before long, that incredible wave of energy begged for release, only this time, T—- said, “I’m almost there, darlin’ if you wait for me, it’ll feel that much better for both of us.” —And so, I tried soooo hard to wait for him, and just when I thought I couldn’t wait any more, he said “OK, I’m there, you go for it, Darlin’” And I started, which caused an uncontrollable contraction of anal muscles, which he knew would be enough to finish him off, so he pulled almost all the way out, and just with tiny thrusts of just the head in the anus he blasted a load of hot juice inside of me, which brought on an extra wave to my electrical discharge — dear god, I loved fucking this man……..


The after-show party Part 3

Filling my ass with his hot monkey-spunk, he shoved himself in to the hilt, and kinda just collapsed on top of me… This felt heavenly for a few minutes, but hey, let’s be reasonable, T—- was a big man… I’d say topside of 320 lbs, and 2/3 of it was in his shoulders and pecs, and that’s the part that was leaning on me— and I cradled his head in my arms, and held it against my breast… eventually I had to gasp out “C-can’t b-b-breathe”!! T—- got up with a start… “Sorry Darlin” —you’re kinda comfy, there, and I was just takin’ a few minutes to relax…

“Oh, nothing to be sorry about, lover.” I said in a breathy voice… ”You’re just a whole lotta man, and this counter isn’t too forgiving. —Besides, it should be close to “showtime” anyway, no?”

He looked up at the clock and said “5 minutes til midnight, sugar. I guess we should actually get cleaned up for real.” He gave me that evil grin I was learning to really love. This time, we each kinda washed ourselves, with the exception of each other’s backs. We used clean, dry towels to wipe off the soap and water, and T—- slipped into a clean pair of levis, an old, comfortable pair of Timmies, and a sleeveless flannel, open in the front, and he threw a similar garment at me, which I caught, and tried to make work in some kinda fashion. I ended up tying the tails together at waist level — not high enough to see my tummy, and slipping on my capris — throwing my underwear in with T—-’s dirty things, and finding a dry pair of socks in T—-’s bag, even though they were 20 sizes too big, I made them work, too — looking like leggings from Flashdance or something, with my capris. Then, using T—-’s brush and whatever else he had to make himself presentable — then helping him with his hair and beard, and touching up his manicure (god, country music stars — worse than women) for him, we were soon ready to go… 15 minutes late, which T—- said was “perfect” for these things.

With one hand, he grabbed his 2 bags, and with the other, my hand, and we walked up the back stairs out of the basement dressing room area into the reception area where I first met him before the show. A couple of the band and crew were hanging out in this room, snacking on what was left of the catering from the pre-show festivities… T—- led me past all of this, and out through the passageway onto the Tour Bus, or more appropriately “Coach 1” since the band and crew actually traveled in 2 separate coaches, and neither one was really a ‘bus’ per se, but rather a really fancy, Massive RV, each capable of carrying and caring for 10 persons. T—- and I now constituted 2. The tour manager also rode on Coach 1, as well as the ‘venue liason’ — so there were 2 more. The sound director, lighting director, and 2 from the band made 8, and that, I was told, was a full compliment, considering that we had a driver, and leaving room for any other “groupies” that might come aboard. This seemed pretty intimidating to me… Me, and 8 guys, if you count the driver…. I asked T—- where my stuff got stored, and he said, “well, I was hoping to save this as a surprise for you until later, but come on with me,” and he led me through a sliding door in the rear of the “common area” where the party seemed to be getting started.. and there, wall to wall, with the exception of the small area where we were standing, was a king-sized bed, low on the floor, with another one right above it… like bunk-style king sized beds, of all things… each was entered at the foot, and each had storage compartments all around, and their own AC/heat units, laptops, tv, vcr, dvd, and cd players… T—- crawled in the bottom king-bunk and said “This one’s ours, sugar. There’s clean sheets in the cabinet there on “your side” — my side is over here, by the exhaust fan, I had them put in, so I can smoke my stogies in bed, without anyone bitching and yappin at me. You can change ‘em whenever you feel like it, I don’t give a fuck about shit like that… that’s what women’s for — not to be rude or anythin’… The Sound manager and Light manager share the upper bunk, even when they have ladies over — don’t let em steal your sheets, though… let them perverts wash their own…” and he let out a whooping laugh… Seriously, though… that’s Bob and Lee, and, if you wouldn’t mind too terribly.. they alway mix their wash in with mine… if you could take care of their clothes along with ours til the end of the tour, they’ll be really appreciative, darlin’”

I was exploring all around “our” kingsize bunk, and I found a pull-across, folding screen, of sorts, which, when opened fully, totally enclosed our bunk from the rest of the Coach. I was pretty happy about that. I had before thought that there was just no privacy to be had in “Coach 1” — but this… this was great… this was having a big man in a small space, all to myself… yeah, this would do nicely…

I was thinking we should soon go out to the party, and “be sociable” with the rest of the group, but T—- seemed content to relax there on the bed. He had gathered all the pillows behind his back and head, and, with his arms behind his head, he kinda kicked his boots half off, and put his feet over towards me, expecting me to finish the job. [Part of the job description, I guess] — And so I removed his Timmies, and put them up on the shelf near the bottom of the bed. There was enough room for me to “walk on my knees” or crawl, but not stand up. Poor T—- could only crawl on his belly, he was so big. I felt bad for him, and I was determined to help him as much as possible in getting things for him when we were in our little “cave”…

He also loosened his belt buckle, and opened his top jeans button, and removed his flannel, tossing it at me, and chuckling. I folded it, and put it on a shelf, also. It could surely be worn again. [The mommy part of the job] and he seemed comfy enough, finally…. I asked him if he needed anything?

“Yeah, darlin’ — I don’t know why I’m so tired tonight.. actually, yeah, I do” — and he gave me that devil-grin — ”I could use a draft beer. There’s a keg on tap out in the livin’ room, and cups right on top of it.”

I scooted on out of our cave, and went through the sliding door into the common room, and saw the “beer-meiser” — Got 2 red solo cups — one for him, and one for me.. I filled his up, giving him about an inch of head, and half for me… not much foam. Everyone out in the common room either said “hi” or tipped their hats at me… no other women out there yet… that’s good, I didn’t feel like “defending my territory” so soon . I headed back to the cave with my 2 cups… A tall, skinny “kid” got up, and opened the door for me, and introduced himself as “one of my roommates” — Bobby.. and bent down to give me a kiss on the cheek… I answered, shocked, “Well, sweetie, pleased to meet you! and thanks for getting the door!”

Bobby closed the door behind me, and T—- yelled “There are more pillows in that closet behind the steps to the upper bunk! — I’m used to taking all of these myself.” So, I set the beers down on one of the shelves in our cave, and opened the closet next to the steps… there was various pillows, towels, and extra sheets, it looked like… and, of all things… on the top shelf was about 12 boxes of various size, and types of condoms — well, I don’t need to worry about those.. I had a tubal ligation when my last child was born, and was 100% disease free, as I had been tested over the years with my boyfriend. Toby, well, who knows, but I’d bet he was clean as a whistle, considering his “habits” on the road. I thought I’d ask now, while it was on my mind, though.. ”T—-, nice time to ask, after we’ve already mixed about every bodily fluid there is, but you are clean, right??”

“100% Darlin’.. I get a check before and after each tour. Don’t want to spread anything to anybody. Howsabout you?

“Yeah, I’m certifiable, too… and I’ve had my tubes tied, so no fear of anything unwanted popping up.”

“Yeah, I was hoping you’d say that. I hate condoms… Fucking things always hurt, especially when you’re not cut, you know??”

“I can imagine, honey bear….” [Did I just call T—- K—— by a pet name??] He laughed at “Honey Bear”…. ”Well, at least the “Bear” part is about right”, he chuckled.

I threw in 3 pillows, most of which hit him in the face, and I laughed at that. I closed up the closet, grabbed our beers, and walked on my knees into where he was lying, bare-chested and relaxed. Giving him my beer to hold, I arranged my pillows a little, but mostly just put one under my shoulder, so I could lay my head on his massive left pec and arm pit, and sip on my beer.

He held me like that for a while, and soon, I guess, I fell asleep. I never realized how tired I was, also. T—- had removed my sneakers, shirt, and capris, and left me naked except for his socks, and covered me with a sheet. He took off his jeans as well, and when I awoke, to the movement of the coach, my head was resting on his left bicep, with my face pressed into the hair of his chest. I stirred a little, and he half-sleepily said “stay where you are — it’s a 7 hour drive” — [ah, part 3 of my job — living teddy bear] I considered the comfort of my Sex-God, and lifted my head for him to move his arm, which he did, but his right arm reached around me from the top side clenched me tight to his chest. It occurred to me that if I rolled over, we could “spoon” the morning away, so that’s what I did” and he didn’t wake me until past 1 pm….

And I’ll never forget the way he woke me, either….


The after-show party Part 4

As I lay there, I was faintly aware of hands on my breasts, and a hand reaching down and playing with my clitoris.

I was just laying there moaning, as if experiencing a wet dream.

Little by little I was waking up, and the “wet” part of my dream was becoming more real — I reached down, and I was sopping wet, and I could feel something coming in between my legs from behind…

It took me a moment to realize where I was, and what was happening, and then, thinking “this is happening without my consent, but I love it” I thrust my butt and arched my back to accept his battering ram at the gates, and it slipped inside with absolutely no resistance… that’s how wet I was… I kept trying to arch my back and thrust my vagina back towards him, yet, at the same time, I wanted to feel his chest against my shoulders — each time this contact was broken, it was like my world was coming to an end, and I’d curve my back even more, to feel his chest once again. I thrust my head backwards, to feel his neck and chin, which he did bring forward for me, and occasionally kissed me on top of the head…. Oh Fuck… I was in heaven… I wanted this to last forever, but all things are impermanent…

I could feel him pressuring me to roll over, but I resisted. I didn’t want this sensation to end… so, instead, he pulled out completely, piled up 3 pillows to put under my waist, and picking me up under the waist, he picked me right up, and put me “in my place” I whimpered, missing the feeling of him inside me, and against me, but I had nothing to worry about..

He straddled my legs with those long thighs of his, and lay completely on top of me, and entered me from behind, much deeper than before, and I had the whole of his body lying against mine, and it was heaven… pure heaven… I started moaning with delight again and again… and then, he started really pounding me… I was still a little sore from the day before, but that kinda added to the fun of it… and his massive balls started smacking my clitoris with every pounding stroke — ooo — each stroke was a whole new level of ecstasy for me… That monster just barely ramming into my cervix on each stroke, offering a little more pain.. I was starting to really enjoy “fuck pain” when given by my Fuck God… And I was thinking, I had orgasmed more in the last 24 hours with T—- than I had in my entire life.

This thought alone, was starting to push me over the edge, when he positioned me on all fours — he just lifted me up by the tummy, until I was on all fours, and then he removed the pillows, and then held my arms in position…. I couldn’t move if I wanted to. Every muscle in his long torso was now spread over my rump and back, and I could feel them all contracting on ever thrust, and that big sac kept slapping my clitoris on each thrust… Now, I could feel the power surges beginning to build… higher and higher… he let go of my arms, and grabbed the sides of my hips. He couldn’t straighten up under there, so he pulled me to the edge of the “cave” where he could stay on his knees, but straighten up his back, facing the frame of the bunk above… he couldn’t see me anymore, and I couldn’t feel his amazing torso against my back… this was a let-down, but I guess his back was getting tired… I “disengaged” and crawled out next to him. Looking at the steps, I had an idea — I went up the steps until my vagina was about at his cock level (which was quite a few steps) and holding onto his shoulders, put my legs out through the handrails, giving him easy access…. I wanted him to finish in complete comfort, regardless of what happened with me…..

To my surprise, he lifted me with those massive arms of his 4 more steps, and I was sitting on the top bunk… Bobby was lying there, asleep. And I whispered down to T—- that Bobby was sleeping still. ”Like I fucking give a shit” T—- answered, with the evil grin….

He held me there with a vice-grip on my thighs, at the edge of the bunk… right at the level of his throat. Coming up to me, he dove right in with his face… and instantly I let out a shout… that tongue knew its way around a lady’s private parts, lemme tell ya. He let go of my left thigh with his right arm, and put two fingers into my vagina, hand facing up… reaching, and reaching, until he found the “sweet spot” — he knew it by my sharp intake of breath.

Tonguing my clitoris, and manipulating my “spot”… I leaned back on my arms, and slid my vagina forward a little, just off the edge of the upper bunk. Oh, I don’t think I had ever experienced anything quite like this before. I didn’t think he could push me any further, but he did. He let go of my right thigh with his left hand — assured that I wouldn’t move now, he inserted two of his left fingers into my vagina and stroked them in and out a few times, then, with no warning, he slid them right into my ass.

I instantly orgasmed… yelling and screaming all I could, jumping from the bunk, right into his arms, my legs wrapped around his torso, and my arms wrapped around his neck.. I bit him behind the left ear, and sucked a little of the blood from the bite… he yelled, “Whoa, darlin’ — let’s not make any permanent scars, ok??” I couldn’t answer, I was so out of breath, and still not thinking in human words…

An eternity (lasting no more than 2 or 3 minutes) passed by, and T—- lowered me to the floor, and I actually cried from the sadness of being separated from him… Dying to be united once again, I dropped to my knees, and took his gargantua into my mouth.

Tasting myself on him was a unique experience, and I found it rather erotic. Pulling the skin back, to find the parts I longed to play over with my tongue, I found the ridge of the head, and swirled my tongue around that for a brief time…. The underside of an uncut cock is more sensitive than the head, or the rest of the shaft, but it’s not concentrated into one little bundle, like a circumcised cock…. it’s the whole length, under the foreskin. Using pressure from my tongue, I stimulated this region with fast, hard pumps for a while.

All men throw their heads back in pleasure, when you’ve hit the right spot, and the right rhythm .. in short, when they feel their cock is in heaven. My Fuck-God deserved to have his cock in heaven — he truly did… T—- threw his head back, and let out a long, low, moan… I knew that I was doing a good job, at least so far… With guys, you can overstimulate them with a blowjob, and have them cum within 5 minutes… sometimes that’s desirable… but it’s more fun to drag it out, and play with them for 10 or more minutes. I wanted my Fuck-God to be in heaven for at least 10 minutes…

I grabbed his ass-cheeks, and spun him around, and sat him down on our bunk. He couldn’t sit up, so I laid him down, and I grabbed a pillow for his head, and another for his ass….

Now he was at the right level for me… I grabbed his iron thighs, and pushed them apart, which he allowed - now I had handles… back to stimulating his underside… oh yes…. he was moaning again… but can’t allow him to cum quite yet… grabbing hold of his thighs, I tried the trick he showed me, and I took him down my throat, only gagging a little bit… soon, my nose met his pubes, and I decided that after this, we both needed a shower, but for now, my Fuck-God needed me. Over and over I plunged him into the depths of my Larynx, and the gagging only served to stimulate him more and more… I tried “growling” while he was down deep, where my vocal chords were, and this made him arch his body, and grab hold of the sheets — yeah, this was good, but I can’t let him cum in my larynx… I’d aspirate it, and drown, knowing how much he spews….

Pulling off of him I said to him, in a really low, raspy voice (courtesy of deep throating an Oklahoma Monster like his) “You Cum when you want to… I want it in my mouth… I always want it inside me, every time.. You are my Fuck God.”

I put him back inside my mouth, and he started pumping violently, so I figured what I said to him had pushed him over the edge, and I was right… soon, what felt like gallons of cum flooded my mouth, and I started swallowing as quickly as I could. This load was even more massive than the day before’s, and the tiniest bit escaped me, which I wiped up with my hand, and licked up as he stared at me.

I found my cigarettes, and lit two — and gave him one. He didn’t say a word — I figure he was in that “mindless” place, where language doesn’t exist… you know.. the place I was in about 15 minutes ago… the “fucked stupid” place… A little cum was still leaking out of his monster as it returned to “normal” size… I leaned forward and licked it off the tip of his penis as it leaked out… each time I did so, he squirmed, like I was tickling him… yeah— I got him good, I did…


The after-show party Part 5

Our coaches pulled into Baltimore around 4pm that day. T—- told me, my first task was to speak with Tommy, the tour manager, to find out when the show was that night, and to see what Bobby, Lee, and T—- needed, in the way of any special booze, weed, or getting laundry done, or anything special to eat for later that night, or tomorrow. As for him and the boys, they were going to do a little rehearsing, get all set up, do sound checks, etc, because this was a “double header” — shows at 9pm and 11pm — not ending til 1am. There would be no party, due to the late hours.

Tommy called up a rental car for me to use, and in an hour, it was there, keys in my hand (this was getting better and better) — he also asked me to do some of his laundry, and tossed a pillowcase full of dirty stuff down the aisle towards me, with a big, country grin, sayin’ “Thanks momma” ”I ain’t your momma, Tommy, in fact, I think you’re older than I am!” ”SHHHH!!!! Ya don’t have to tell EVERYONE, Darlin’!!” and he gave out a silly laugh. I thought to myself, [He don’t seem too bad for a tour manager. I always thought they were assholes.] — and right on cue, Lee came up behind me, and whispered to me “God, what an asshole — you’d think he’d do his own laundry… he’s the only one on the bus who don’t have to practice, or set up. He just sits around and talks on the phone all day long.”

“Yeah, well, I guess that’s his job, honey.. someone’s gotta keep it all together.” — “I guess,” replied Lee, “but he don’t have to be so fuckin’ happy all the time — it pisses a boy off, I’ll tell ya. Anyway, so how are you and ole T—- gettin’ on?? Bobby said you had a good morning together? huh?” and he gave me a schoolboy grin…

“I guess we don’t have any secrets back in the bunkhouse, do we?” — “Nah, not really, Darlin’, say, what’s your name, anyway?” [OMG someone actually asking my name??] ”Tina Marie, Lee, but you can call me Tee or Tina, or even Tee Tee, like my little nieces do, if you like.” — “Oh hell… Tina Marie is pretty, but Tee Tee sounds like somebody you can have some fun with. Can we have fun with you, Tee Tee??” — “Well, Lee, THAT depends upon the situation, and what’s goin’ on with T—-. You gotta know, that first and foremost, he’s my Fuck God, and that’s that.” ”Whoa — Fuck God — OK — ain’t no trumpin’ that one… okie dokie, well, Miss Tina Marie, howsabout I help you get the car loaded with all this crap, and get you on your way.. it’s gonna be a long day.” — “Why That’ll do nicely, Lee!”

It occurred to me during all this loading up of laundry, that I didn’t have more than about $500 to my name, and what these boys were asking for was gonna stretch that to the limit. I turned to go back in, and there was Tommy, at the door of the Coach, holding out a bankcard. — “No limit, for cash or purchase… use as a debit, Pin# T—- should make it easy for you to remember. BTW, if you fuck me on this, I’ll kill you, then I’ll kill your children, then, you parents, and so forth, got it??” all the while smiling that crocodile smile… ”no, Seriously, though.. anything out of the ordinary, and they call me immediately, so don’t go on any personal shopping sprees or anything.. OK??”

“Am I aloud to buy a box of Tampons, and a carton of smokes?” — “Oh sure,” he backpaddled….”anything you need, within reason, Darlin’”..

So… I sat in the car, and made a list of all my errands, so to save as much time as possible. I figured I wouldn’t get back before the first show started, but I needed to be back before it finished, to help get T—- cleaned up and ready for the second show. Christ, I hope this venue had showers in the dressing room. Off I went, as quickly as I could go. I got back at around 9pm. Just as the first show was starting. I could hear the amplified music out here in the Coach, pulled behind the fairgrounds. I put everybody’s stuff away as best I could. Tucked my bottle of Southern comfort inside the “cave” for later, changed into something “decent” , packed a bag of fresh clothes for T—-, put my three lanyard passes around my neck, and I was on my way….

The way things were scheduled. The first show should end at about 10:20 pm give or take for the number of encores, etc, and how much interaction T—- would do with the audience. A friendly audience, and he would sense it, they said, and he’d have a good time with them. A cold audience, and he’d stick to the program, all the way through.

I headed right for the dressing room. [SHIT!! Some of the other boys were doubling up with T—- Wait, it looked like ALL the boys were sharing one dressing room — FUCK!!] At least there were showers… It was more of a locker-room than a dressing room… Oh well… we’ll figure something out.. no beer, here, either… that’ll never do… I went out into the hallway, and walked to the end. Here was a “reception room” — and here was where the boys had “dumped” their extra clothes and such. They thought this was part of the dressing room too, I guess… This is where the snacks and beer was, anyway… but this had access to the press, so this would never do. I couldn’t see how a bunch of swingin dicks in nothin but towels, or nothin at all could hang around drinkin beer for 10 minutes or so, while they got dressed, being open to the press, and to VIPs … no, we needed to close this area off. I got hold of Venue Security, and told him that this room needed to be secured against all, including VIPs and press, until after the second show began, he briefly asked me why, and I flashed him my “Personal Assistant T—- K—— Lanyard, and he just acquiesced. The doors to the outside, and side hallways were locked, leaving the only entrance from the “locker room area”. I then asked him to post a pair of security guards at the entrance of the locker room hallway, allowing only band, company, venue, and production people to pass. He called on his radio, and in a few minutes, I saw two guys, in red polos, with the word “security” stenciled on the back at the end of the hallway. I thanked him for his prompt, courteous, service, and I assured him we’d mention to the venue management how helpful he was. He didn’t seem impressed by that at all, so I reached into my pocket, and gave him the extra $50 that I had taken out of the ATM machine during my errands that day. Now he seemed much more impressed. He tipped his baseball cap to me, and exited via one of the locked doors, making sure to lock it behind him.

I heard T—- do his standard encore… and then, to thunderous applause, a second.. oh Fuck… time will be short… system…. OK.. I called Tommy on my cell phone… ”What’s up, Darlin’? Anything wrong?” — “Yeah, this dressing room thing is a fiasco… we need a system… can you lend me a hand between the shows here?” — “Sho’nuf, Baby… I’ll be right down….” and, coming around the corner, past the dual security guys, Tommy came jogging along…

“Their clean clothes, food, and beer are out here,” I showed him… then I took him back to the ‘Locker room’ — “and here are the showers. — I need them to come to the end of the hallway, grab a quick beer, and a sandwich, or whatever, then paddle their little asses in here, throw all their sweaty smelly stuff in a pile, which I will take to the laundry tomorrow — it’s a no-travel day, right??” — Tommy nodded in agreement — “get cleaned up, and then paddle their clean, naked asses back out, and grab another beer while they’re getting dressed, but this has to happen all within, what… 25 minutes??”

“Hold on, darlin’ — you’ll give yourself a heart attack… it ain’t the end of the world when a concert doesn’t start on time….. I appreciate you tryin’ to make my job run smoother, and your idea is a good one, but don’t get so stressed out by it. Here… You run the locker room… I’ll run the beer and clothes…. OK?? Where are T—-’s clothes???” — “Why, they’re in the Locker room, with my stuff, why??” —-“Good good— you keep him from walking these halls naked, please. Everyone else is safe enough, but the Paparazzi would pay 2 years salary to some of these security guys to let them through to get a naked picture of T—- in a hallway, you know what I mean?? — “Right,” I said, “I understand.”

“OK then, this song is almost over… git to your station, Momma!”

“Okie Dokie, Daddy!”

I grabbed a couple Samuel Adams — the evident choice of the venue, for me and T—-, and set them inside the Locker Room. Then, I stood outside, waiting for the cattle to come down the shoot, so I could cut off the prize bull from the rest of the herd. Soon enough they came. Enthusiastic enough, for just performing a complete show. They seemed to have a lot of energy considering. T—- seemed happy to see me. He gave me a “honey I’m home” kinda grin, anyway. I pulled him inside the locker room, and told him about the confusion and fuck-up, with the whole system, and how it just wasn’t going to work out, unless we did things this way.

“See, Darlin’ — this is why we need womenfolk along on these tours. Or at the very least, we need you.” He bent down, then to kiss me, but instead, I turned my head to go along side his…. I wanted to feel and smell the sweat on him…. and then, I wanted to taste it, before he had to go and wash it all away… the heat of the lights had transformed it all into almost pure salt… wow, he was salty…. but he smelled soooo goood. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and held him there for a few minutes, until the first of the cattle came in to get cleaned up….

“OK my God of Cock, let’s get you cleaned up for round two.” — I undid the buttons of his shirt, and undid his belt, taking it out of his jeans, to be put in the clean and dry pair, while he showered. Undid his top jeans button, then got down on one knee, and helped him get his cowboy boots off, one at a time. These I put aside… sweaty, but not smelly… they’d need to be powdered in order to fit back on without getting stuck. I took his socks off while I was down there, and got him a pair of flip-flops for the shower ready, and pulled down his jeans…. yes, I wanted to suck… but I just couldn’t… not with all these guys coming and going… but I did give it one little kiss, which prompted “Get a ROOM!!!” from Bobby, who was just coming in with a beer. T—- chugged down his Samuel Adams. I tried mine, and thought it smelled like moose piss… and I gave it to Lee, utas he came out of the shower. ”This isn’t fair, you know, Miss Tina Marie. Only ole T—- gets to see you naked, but you get to stand there and watch all of us in the shower!” —“Fuck you Lee, just be happy I don’t tape it and sell your pretty little ass to some gay porno website.” — He danced away and yelled to Bobby… “Tina Marie thinks I have a pretty little ass, Bobby!!!”

“Get goin’ both of you, and get more beer, and put some clothes on out in the other room. It’s enough that I gotta wash your stinky-ass clothes tomorrow morning, let alone put up with your shit tonight.” — Tommy and Lee answered together, as if they’d rehearsed it, “Yes Mommy Dearest” and ran out the door. The others, about 7 or so, lingered for a moment, and then left, leaving T—- still in the shower.

“Come on, Honey Bear, we gotta get you dried and dressed yet.”

“Yeah, I’m comin’ — The hot water feels good on, well, on my sac, darlin’ — old boy’s a little sore from so much work, I guess.” — “Oh, Sugar, I’m sorry… I didn’t think I’d be too much for a big ole boy like you! We’ll have to take it easy on you from now on.” — “OH NO!! I didn’t say anything like that!! I’m not complainin’ — not at all… These two boys hangin down between my legs might be complainin’ a little, but not me. We just gotta keep em cool, and they’ll be fine. Maybe tomorrow when you’re out doin all that wash, you could find me a cold pack — you know, the ones you put ice cubes in… and we can chill these bad boys down for a while in the afternoon, then make em work again tomorrow night for a while. What do you think??”

“Honey Bear, you are my Fuck God.. If I have to feed you chicken lips every day to get you to do what you do to me, don’t you worry… no chicken will be safe within 100 miles.”

He laughed at that and said, “Well, for the sake of all those chickens, let’s hope it don’t come to that!!”

The second show started at 11:15 — not too bad, considering… and I started gathering up everyone’s stuff… for the most part, it was in one big pile, and that was fine. I went out to the Coach, and found 3 big black trash bags… that pretty much handled everything, and I muscled them out to the trunk of the rental car, making sure I had the keys with me, so that the car wouldn’t be returned with everyone’s stuff still inside. I called Tommy on the phone again, and told him we’d need the rental car at least through the afternoon tomorrow. He said he planned on keeping it until we actually left, and leaving it there at the venue for the rental company to pick up — using the mail-in return agreement thingy — I never dealt with that kind of stuff, but I guess for the right price, you can get what you want, how you want it.

I went back over to the Venue about 1:15, and the encores were in progress — T—- must have sped-up the show a little… I just wanted to get my Fuck-God out of there, and into our cave — to take care of him, after a long day… see to whatever he might need, and fall asleep in the arms of an Olympian once again.

Finally, the music stopped… the applause roared, and the cattle came down the shoot. T—- was walking slow, and even with a little limp, if I had to be truthful — old football injury maybe?? Who knows… I just needed to get him into bed, and care for whatever he needed…. ”Everything’s on the Coach, FG.” I told him, as I put my arm around his back, which did not reach, in order to support him. — Still his arm came down on my shoulder, and it seemed like it helped him a little like a crutch. ”FG?” he asked, after a minute, looking down at me, with an amused half-grin. — “Yeah — Fuck God — it’s less bizarre when I say it that way, don’t you think??” — “I kinda like Fuck God, though… or God of Fuck.. makes me feel like Thor, in that movie, you know? Besides, I ain’t never been anyone’s ‘God’ of anything before.” and he gave a little laugh, but he was still in pain.

Getting him into bed, propped up on his pillows, smoking a cigar was all he wanted… he wasn’t hungry nor thirsty. He just wanted to be undressed, and have a cigar. Gosh, simple pleasures for a god, I thought. I went and found myself a glass of iced tea — the fridge on Coach 1 was “Finders keepers” I was told, so, yeah, that was a good thing, although I’d probably buy some iced tea tomorrow on my excursions. I brought it back to the cave, got undressed myself, pulled the screen, turned on the AC unit, and turned T—-’s exhaust fan on low, and he lay there, just quietly smoking in the near-dark, and me sipping on my iced tea.

Finally, he simply said, “I’m getting too old for these double-headers, Darlin’ — even with a top-notch helper like you along, it’s more than I can take. Road tourin’ is supposed to be fun.. a lot of drinkin’, and partyin’, and yeah, a lot of fuckin’. These double-headers fuck that up for days, though.

I turned around, and laid my head in his lap… not facing the “music” this time, so to speak. He had his ankles kinda crossed, so I even lodged my glass (red solo cup) of iced-tea between his knees… I lay there, and listened to him talk about getting older, and not being the man he used to be. When he was done, I took a drink of tea, and simply said to him, “Honey, I don’t know who or what you used to be. I have no way of knowing that. I also know that there’s no great love story gonna come out of this thing between me and you. From your perspective, I’m kinda an employee, but one of a very unique type. From my perspective, you’re a friend, who needs some help, and, also, fucks like a God, so I’d be unkind, and also a fool, not to do all these things for you, and get fucked into a coma on an almost daily basis in return. Now, my boyfriend is only a few years older than you, and he’s lost his ability to fuck altogether, whether it be from sickness, or just that “his time” came around too soon, but yours, my God of Fuck, is working tremendously well, and if that’s any judgment of a man, and in a lot of ways, it is, you are my big, strong, gorgeous, Fuck God, and I’m sharing a bed with you for a few weeks. I’m not interested in the man you were, or even the man you will become, because the man you are, is no mere man, but a God.”

I found the little ashtray, and lighting a cigarette, putting my iced tea in one of the many “cubbies” around the sides, I lay with my head in the middle of his pecs, just nestled in between them, and my back against his abs. My hips right next to his on the mattress, my right leg crossing over his left. And, our smoking done for the night, we slept just like that, until Tommy woke me at 8am, by reaching in and grabbing my foot, and shaking it… ”Fucking wow, Tommy!” — “Sorry, Momma, but you have shit to do before we pull out of here.” — “Yeah, I know, but, Christ, we’re naked in here.” — “Nothin’ I’ve never seen before, unless you got something special… DO you have something special, Tina Marie???” — “Fuck Off Tommy, and get me some coffee!!” — “Way ahead of you, there, princess… throw on something or other, and come out into the livin’ room with me…”


The after-show party Part 6

Tommy had gathered up some bagels and cream cheese. A few donuts, and he’d made a fresh pot of drip coffee— It seemed he’d been waiting for me to get up.

“Sorry Tina Marie, for disturbing you in there, but you gotta get a move-on. I want to get this wagon-train a-movin’ here by 2 or 3 at the latest, and I know you have a bunch or stuff to get done. Come to think of it, so do I. Say, can I offer you a permanent job as my assistant?? It won’t always be with T—- and the boys. Sometimes it’s with other bands, but I try to run with T—- whenever he’s tourin’. We seem to get along fairly well. Some of the other bands, well.. Let’s just say it doesn’t go as smoothly as this here.”

“Nope — Sorry Tommy! I got me a good man at home,