"If you getcha one girl, better get two
Case you run into Gypsy Lou
She's a ramblin' woman with a ramblin' mind
Always leavin' somebody behind"
~Bob Dylan~
Manic hysteria is oozing out of the Forum tonight. I know it's the groovy British invasion of The Skiffles and all but my mind keeps wandering to what's going to happen after the gig with my men.
It's hard to see past the blinding stage lights into the mainly mod wanabee 14-year-old girl audience. Do they even care that they can't hear a note, a beat, a syllable for fuck's sake? The constant screaming of the Skiffle-fanatics drowns out any other attempt at anything resembling noise.
The other go-go dancer and I have our moves in check. Oh, yea, no one can say that we miss a beat.
The outfits Penelope and I are wearing were personally hand picked by the man himself, Rod, lead guitarist for the band. Tight short little t-shirts with the band's logo jutting out from our jiggly titties, tiny, tiny mini-skirts hugging our swinging hips and just barely reaching past the tops of our thighs, and of course our shiny white leather go-go boots. Mine are the coolest pair by far - the only pair with tassels I have ever seen!
We are dancing atop this immense stage prop while the group blasts out their songs. The prop is built to spell out the letters: T.H.E. S.K.I.F.F.L.E.S. I am doing the shimmy somewhere between the "K" and the "I" now.
Penelope is doing a groovy version of the monkey while The Skiffles are going through their unbelievably gear numbers. My straight long blonde hair flies through the air to the rhythm of our latest, hippest moves while my arms are thrashing wildly up and down to the fab beat.
This unbearable claustrophobic air though is making my mini skirt cling to my ass and I am thinking that maybe I should have worn panties after all.
I love watching them, watching my men, my four Skiffles. There's Rod on lead guitar, Stu on rhythm guitar, Keith on bass and of course my darling Fingers on drums as he shakes his head back and forth to the wild beat. Their shiny beautiful, long hair is what all the Skiffle-fanatics constantly rave about and it's no wonder 'cause their hair's rockin' too! Oh, fuck, do I love them - all four. I would do them any time anywhere any day anyhow. They can fuck my mouth, fuck my cunt, fuck my ass, cum all over my tits, my face, wherever they want. I love being the groupie slut for the The Skiffles.
"Psssst, Isabella," whispers Rod with a wink. "Are you keeping that sweet little cunt hot for us now baby?"
"Yes darling of course," I giggle. Rod looks so unbelievably cute tonight. He is so fucking cool I don't think I can stand it for another minute. He signals me now.
This has become quite the habit for us on this tour. During each gig, I suck off one of The Skiffles on stage while they are still playing. The audience can't tell. It is such an incredible turn on for all of us and the band swears it improves their playing!
With the final chords of "Maybe It's You" wailing from Rod's guitar he casually strolls over behind the huge prop while still grooving to the beat.
"Sha na na na na na..." The Skiffles are harmonizing now. It is my cue to jump down unashamedly offering the audience a quick flash of my silken smooth pussy.
I am now kneeling before Rod out of view of the screaming Skiffle-fanatics, yet they can still see him from the waist up. That is how Rod planned it when he thought of The Skiffles lettering prop. What a sly little devil he is at that!
The stage floor feels hard and rough on my bare knees but I don't care. I know I am going to suck his cock. Oh God, he is making me horny. While his fingers are strumming those strings, he gently moves his guitar away from his body to allow just barely enough room for his blonde slut to squeeze in.
I slowly and carefully unzip his tight pants. Oh, yea, I'm thinking, Rod is horny tonight. His cock is already hard and eagerly waiting for my ravenous wet mouth.
He glances down, murmuring to me, "That's it baby, suck it good for me, make it feel good my lovely slut."
How I love it when he talks to me like that. I wrap my mouth around that beautiful hard cock and deep throat him instantly. Rod misses the next two chords. I love teasing him like this. "Now, Isabella," he grins, "you are the naughty little girl tonight."
I slowly release his cock from my wet mouth inch by inch, allowing my saliva to trickle forth, guiding his slick cock bit by bit in and out. Now I take his member and start licking, slowly licking every tiny spot from the base to the throbbing head, up and down. He is squirming now but his guitar playing never sounded better.
The Skiffle-fanatics in the audience are on their feet at this point, dancing in the aisles, pulling on their hair, screaming so loudly now that it is piercing my ears. Some are crying, some are shouting, some are fainting, and I am blowing Rod.
I swallow him again, slowly fucking his cock with my mouth back and forth to the rhythm of "She Wants Me".
He is starting to move his hips. It is Rod who is doing the fucking now. I know this is a sign that he is close to shooting his precious sweet semen. His eyelids begin to flutter and with three hard long strokes deep into my mouth he releases his cum with a scream, "yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa", as the song climaxes at the same time.
I love the taste of his cum. I love the taste of all four of my men. Each one has a slightly different flavour, but I can't say I prefer one taste over any other. I love the taste of them all. My darlings.
After the unbelievably gear concert ends, we push our way backstage past the photographers, roadies, security guards, and various entourage members for a little of "our time". Oh yea. I am the only one allowed to enter the dressing room with The Skiffles.
Gypsy Lou is waiting for us inside. She is that incredibly talented, hip American folk singer / songwriter. It was about four weeks ago that she turned The Skiffles and me on to reefer for the first time ever. Wow! What a wild trip that was! My darling men, Lou, and I were flying high as kites. Lou certainly turned us into raving potheads, that's for sure! That night I couldn't stop giggling. God, everything anybody said was so fucking hysterical. I love laughing when I'm stoned. I can laugh until tears stream down my face and then I'll laugh some more.