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.