However, deep inside I was not a happy woman. I was married to a prick of a rock star, who not only verbally abused me but physically hurt me as well. He had a road crew of zombies and drug addicted followers who would stalk my every move.
On top of that, I just cheated on my husband, a man whom I couldn’t even stand. Well, kinda cheated. Another man’s arms and body were around me last night and I didn’t care what you called it, it felt fucking amazing!
I decided not to think about that and realized that the band could not find me there in that room. My rock star was registered under the alias “Jack Torrance” from his love of the new horror movie “The Shining”. It was a movie by horror writer Stephen King and it scared the living hell out of me. But if that rock star found out where I was, I would be afraid of a lot more.
I made my way over to the bed and found he was only half asleep. When I approached him, he gently slid over to make room for me to sit next to him.
“Good morning,” he smiled, “sleep good?”
I laughed, “What do you think?”
He grinned. “Hop up here beside me.”
While I was in the shower, he had surprised me by ordering room service which should arrive any moment.
“I want to talk to you about some…” he started, when there was a knock on the door.
“Room service Mr. Torrance…”
Covering up with the sheet, he told the woman to come in. She was pushing a large cart with silver plates with lids on every one. There was a vase with a red rose and a small box of Godiva chocolates.
“Thank you,” he said and handed her a $50 dollar bill he took from his wallet on the nightstand.
After the door closed behind her, he got up, fully nude and pushed the cart over to the bed.
“Mmmm,” he said as he lifted each lid one by one.
Before us was a breakfast fit for a king (and a queen). Bagels, croissants, real butter, pancakes, syrup, bacon…you name it, it seemed to be on this elegant tray.
We sat up in bed and ate like teenagers.
Before room service interrupted him, he wanted to talk to me about something, however I let him eat, but the suspense was killing me.
We finished eating and he pushed the cart away and lay back down on the satin pillow, reaching out his arm for me to join him.
He stared up at the ceiling for a few moments and said, “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
I braced myself, thinking the worse.
“You know, I can get you out of this crummy marriage to that punk ass rocker. Let me make a phone call to my attorney in LA and see what I can do. Is that okay?”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Was he serious? Why would he do that for me?
“Are you serious,” I said. “But why, I mean why are so willing to help me?”
He sat up and looked at me. “You’re kidding right? I mean after last night, you can honestly ask me such a thing?”
Okay, Poppy, you are officially an idiot!
He looked almost hurt.
Be careful girl, your class is showing.
“No, I mean,” I said, foot firmly stuck in my mouth like a swollen dick, “I just don’t want to cause you any trouble or be a burden to you, that’s all. You know when he finds out, all hell is going to break loose.”
He shrugged, “I can handle that two-bit punk, don’t you worry about him. Look, he’s not only killing himself, he is killing his career and he’s killing you. I won’t let that happen. Let me help you okay, let me take care of you.”
I sighed. I must be dreaming, or high or both, who cares what was happening, it was happening!
We actually laid there in bed for hours, talking and getting to know each other.
He talked about his summers in New England and how he had met the lead singer of their band when they were young, nubile teens.
“It was wild man, I’ll tell ya, we were wild! We always dreamed of playing in a band and meeting chicks,” he laughed. He recalled how the lead singer had seen him in a band at a local dive when he was only 15.
“Yeah, he came by my parent’s house looking for me and I was out in the front yard mowing the grass. Here was this strange looking kid with big lips and wild black hair and he wanted to audition me! Can you believe it, audition me? I thought, who did this arrogant kid think he was offering me an audition. He was playing drums in a local band and to be honest, I had seen them around and they were pretty tight, not bad for a garage band. I knew then he had something and I wanted to be a part of whatever it was he had, he was going places and I wanted to follow him there. Now look at us. At each other’s throats over the dumbest thing. Hell, he’s like a wife!”
He was at ease and seemed content with his lot in life, his lot in this bed. He had a lot of good memories and I felt an intimacy between us as he shared them with me. I couldn’t imagine him telling these stories to just any ol’ groupie.
He reached for the phone on the nightstand, thought for a moment, and dialed 9 then a number. “Can never remember that damn number,” he laughed.
Thinking it was a private call, I got back up to go to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I was concerned. I was still addicted to drugs but now I had another addiction…him.
I knew that one was better for me than the other and I knew I had to chuck one of them but didn’t know how to kill the monkey that was perpetually on my back. I didn’t know if I could shake it.
I heard him hang up the phone and I went back in and made myself comfy on the bed.
“You didn’t have to get up,” he said, “I was putting in a call to my attorney. You are going to let me help you aren’t you?” He was simply adorable.
I slowly nodded.
He grabbed me, held me tight, and playfully pushed me down onto the bed. I giggled like a school girl and I was immediately thrown back to lying on my bed back home with him looking down at me every night. However, back then, he was hanging on a poster looking down on me. Yes, in my wildest dreams, I pictured this, but wow!
He said, “Hold on,” and went into the bathroom. I could hear the sink water running. He came back to bed with a clean, fresh smile.
“Gotta brush my teeth first thing,” he grinned.
“Come here baby,” he reached out for me and I willingly obliged. I would have done anything for him at that moment.
The curtains had not been drawn and the room was still kinda dark even though it was no longer officially morning. The sun that had peered out earlier seemed to have gone back to bed herself.
A serene darkness filled the French sky and it looked like rain even from behind the curtain. I heard thunder off in the distance.
I suddenly felt horny as hell and I was hoping he felt the same way.
He leaned over, kissed me then pulled my half naked body next to his.
We kissed for what seemed like hours and as our tongues danced within each other’s mouth, his stiff cock would do its own private dance up and down against my shaved mound.
He gently rolled me over on my back leaving my body fully exposed to him. I removed my bra and his tongue found its way to my soft and supple breasts. Cupping them in both hands, he began to lightly suck on one nipple then the next, massaging the other one as he licked.
My body arched in anticipation of his next move and I was not disappointed as his tongue licked one side of my body then the next. Each time, he came up to my mouth and kissed me teasingly then went back down for more.
With every upward move of his body, his long, hard cock would tease me as it came within inches of my waiting pussy.
I wanted him between my legs but this was his time to make love to me, show me how much he wanted me, and to take his time doing it. I was in no hurry for him to stop or slow down.
As he got near my feet, he tenderly took one in each hand and gently massaged them. Oh man, it felt so good! I had never had a man give me a foot massage before and at that moment, I was in Heaven.
His hand slowly glid
ed back up my legs and with a gentle movement, he opened up the folds of my vaginal lips.
His tongue began teasing my clit with quick but tender movements. My thighs rotated and pounded and I didn’t know how much longer I could hold on without exploding.
Sensing this, he slowly slid his cock inside me. I felt my entire body relax like a hand inside a velvet glove. My breathing slowed and I felt like I was floating, maybe I was still high, maybe I didn’t think I could get much higher than this. No drug was ever this good.
With each thrust of his cock, his balls pounded up against my tight ass. Suddenly, he sat up, grabbed my ankles, and held them tightly around his neck as he shoved his cock deeper and deeper inside me.
After a few moments, he gently came back down on top of me and began kissing me with an animalistic passion and for that moment, he kissed me like a man in love. Yes, there was that “L” word again.
Kissing me while his cock danced inside me, I could feel him ready to climax and at the same moment, I exploded too.
It was the most incredible, bonding feeling I had ever had with a man.
Exhausted, he laid on top of me for a few moments. I could hear and feel his heartbeat next to mine as he tried to catch his breath.
At that moment, the sun broke through the curtain, illuminating us with its heavenly glow. Our ecstasy lit by the midday sun.
Slowly, he rolled over, put his hand on my stomach, and said, “Fuck! That was incredible!” He looked over at me and smiled that crooked smile.
It was now afternoon and I knew the band’s tour schedule and we were headed out that evening. I also knew my schedule and I was in need of a fix.
While we were talking, he admitted to me that he too had a problem and that concerned him. His management team wanted him put in rehab but he could not leave the tour to make such a move. However, he promised he would when he got off the road but we still had over 50 cities to go. There was a lot of dope and pushers between here and there.
His manager had hired a guy who was some sort of drug counselor or something that he had to take on the road with him to help keep him straight.
He wanted me to talk to him too.
I hesitated.
“I really am okay, honest,” I lied. “I won’t let myself become addicted. I don’t really have a problem, I can handle it.”
All lies I told myself and I told him. But he had been in the drug world longer than I had and he could see right through me. However, I wanted to be a better person, he made me want to be better, so I told him I would try. The moment the words came out of my mouth, I wanted to mean them, but they scared me. I scared me.
I was also afraid to go back on tour. Everyone by now knew what I had done, what we had done and I knew there would be hell to pay.
“Listen, come here,” my rock star said as he gently brushed my long hair out of my face. “I told you not to worry about that guy, okay. I have more money, more security, and more power in my little pinkie then that mother fucker has in his whole trashed out body. Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise.”
Okay.
We got what little shit we had, I actually had nothing with me, and we left the room and made our way to meet the other members of the band.
Up until now, I had only seen them up close and personal, two drunk out of their minds and the lead singer tied to a bed getting a blow job and sucking some whore’s pussy.
Although I looked like shit, with no makeup and my hair a bedroom mess, I couldn’t wait to see them in the light of day. Thank God for big black sunglasses.
There was a limo out in front of the hotel and a crowd of screaming girls waiting by the door. As we made our way to the car door, we were literally mobbed.
He tightly held my hand as we made a mad dash for the limo and the other band members waiting inside.
Once inside, there was a cool silence that was in stark contrast to the craziness outside the hotel lobby.
There they were, living, breathing rock star gods in all their glory, inside the limo staring at me. They had literally come to life right off of my bedroom wall.
The two guitar players had girls with them, the lead singer and the drummer did not.
“Hey everyone, this is Poppy…Poppy this is the everyone.”
They all nodded and said hello then it was business as usual.
They talked about the sound check, the next gig, what they got into last night, ya know, shit. The girls were talking amongst themselves, touching up their makeup and doing their bimbo thing. Most of them looked hung over. Kinda normal stuff.
The lead singer was a real character and even though his nuttiness was semi contained in the back of the limo, I could tell that once he was let loose, the world and his awaiting public would never be the same. He was a real hoot!
I would have given anything to sneak a peek inside his closet and check out his rock star rags.
The drummer was kinda quiet and had a nervous tick in one eye that was very distracting. I had read somewhere that the lead singer made him so nervous that it developed one night and never went away.
The bassist was tall and blonde and had an okay looking brunette with him. I read in one of the rock magazines that he preferred brunettes and had a weakness for strippers. Her boobs were big enough to be a stripper's but then again, most women’s were bigger than mine. He was married but the chick with him didn’t look like any kind of wife material that I had ever seen.
The rhythm guitarist was kinda strange but nice from what I could tell and his woman was quiet too although she looked like a street whore.
It was surreal to me to be sitting next to these gods when only a few short years ago, they were hanging over me on my bedroom wall.
Keep it cool Poppy, keep it cool.
The trip to Manitoba was a short plane ride up near Hudson Bay. There would be no time to sight see though. The band had to play that night then hop a plane and head back down to Calgary where they were playing at the Olympic Saddledome. Then back up a ways to the Northlands Coliseum in Edmonton, Alberta then finishing up the Canadian leg of the tour in Vancouver, British Columbia at the Pacific Coliseum.
I was nervous to head backstage and face the other band but they were no longer the only ones on the tour.
Another band from Canada was going to join the two bands and play the Canadian dates.
The lead singer of the French band was a guy named Deo (pronounced day-o) I had heard stories about him and his sexcapades were legendary in groupie world.
He was said to be an Italian but carried the arrogance of the French and the ego to match. I had never seen him in person but from his photos in the rock mags, he had the face and the body of the sculpture of David.
We got to the stadium and made our way backstage as everyone prepared to get ready.
Rock stars can be a quirky lot. Apart from being rich and famous, they also have the arrogance of requesting what is called a “backstage rider” which informs the venue of the band’s demands when they get offstage.
It’s sorta like a contract that a concert promoter must meet before a concert can even take place.
The scene backstage at this particular arena reflected the excesses of a very rich, very spoiled group of musicians.
The band members are known to be heavy drug users which is no secret to their fans or to anyone in their company.
I found out that at every show they demand a Thanksgiving-style roast turkey, which usually went untouched, as well as several cases of Budweiser and assorted bottles of liquor, one half case premium beer (Pilsner, Corona), one pint Jack Daniels (black label), one pint Absolut vodka, one 750 ml. Bacardi Anejo Rum, one 750 ml. tequila (the best you’ve got!), two bottles white wine top quality, small bottles of Grand Marnier, Cointreau” and “ingredients for Bloody Marys.”
They also wanna bum a smoke off the promoter with a request for one carton each of Winston Regulars and Winston Ultra-Lights cigarettes.
If that wasn’t enough exce
ss, right before they go onstage, each member drinks a shot of Bacardi 151-proof rum.
Nice.
That other rock star’s band did not have the prestige to order such demands. I was with the big boys now and was impressed at how much they were given just because of who they were.
Backstage was alive with band members, their ol’ ladies, groupies, roadies and the usual crew of everybody involved in the show.
Since the band went on last, I knew that the other two bands were already at the stadium.
I was ushered into the dressing room with my rock star and the lead singer. Since they were like brothers, they liked to spend some time together before the show and were always given their own room different from the rest of the band. Not all the time, but usually.
Realizing that this was not a band warm up but a private drug party, I was eager to learn more.
His “counselor” hadn’t arrived yet and wouldn’t be on the scene until we got back to the United States. So, this was his time to party without the scrutiny of big brother’s prying eye.
The three of us were behind the locked door when the lead singer suddenly opened the door with a rush.
Looking up and down like he was dodging traffic, he hollered out, “Hey girl, yeah, you over there in the hoochie coochie drawers, yeah baby, get over here.”
A young, very young girl, a groupie, wiggled her way into the room. More like giggled her way inside. Her barely there boobs were spilling out of an ill-fitting bathing suit top and her ass was a mile wide.
You would have thought she had just won the fucking lottery.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe that you asked me to come in here with you. Oh my God, it’s really you! Wait till I tell my friend, she will just d-i-e die!”
Shut the fuck up already!
The lead singer said, “You wanna get high baby?”
She giggled.
He lit up a joint, passed it around and we all took a toke. She looked at me and could see that I was not like her, not anymore. Not really anyway.
With every inhale, she would not shut her fucking mouth! “I just loved your last album, I mean I know every single word and oh my God, I just can’t believe it!”
Lick and a Promise-Diary of a Rock Star Groupie (Rock Star Series Book 1) Page 14