tagChain StoriesWild at Woodstock Ch. 03

Wild at Woodstock Ch. 03

bySelena_Kitt©

DISCLAIMER:

The stories in the "Celebrity" section of Literotica are all fictional parodies - none are true, nor are they approved of by the celebrities named in the stories. Authors write these fictitious stories about famous people for the same reason that Larry Flynt made fun of Jerry Falwell, because they can. The Supreme Court of the United States, the country where this site is located, has ruled that parodies involving famous people are perfectly and totally legal under the United States Constitution. The specific case law on this was decided in the case of "Hustler Magazine, Inc. et al. v. Jerry Falwell" in 1988. No harm is intended toward the celebrities featured in these stories, but they are public figures and in being so, they must accept that they are fair target for parodies by the public. We believe in the first amendment, and more broadly, in the basic principle of free speech and this section may push the boundaries of that principle, but the United States Supreme Court has approved of this type of material. We believe that the Supreme Court was correct in their decision.

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Chapter 3

Me and Janis Joplin

We were flying them in by helicopter because the roads were so jammed. No one could get through anymore. Rumor had it that Joni Mitchell was stuck on the New York State Thruway, and I wouldn't doubt it for a minute. The helicopters were for bringing in supplies and taking out anyone who needed medical help—but we had requisitioned them on several occasions to bring in some of the acts.

Kenny told me that I was supposed to meet the groups and bring them safe and sound to the backstage area, which wasn't much more than a bunch of trailers stuck in the mud by that time. I'd gotten most of them in—The Who, Santana, even Jefferson Airplane was already there. Iron Butterfly was stuck at the airport and they were on the phone with us for almost an hour trying to figure a way to get them in. The helicopter was a Med-Vac unit and couldn't get clearance to fly into the airport, of all places. We were still trying. The Doors cancelled at the last minute and Kenny was totally flipping out.

Janis was my last pickup according to Kenny, her and some one-hit-wonder chick. I honest to god couldn't remember her name. Of course, there's a lot I can't remember about those three or four days. Ask anyone who was really there what happened, and if they can tell you for sure—odds are, they weren't there.

Janis liked this girl, though. Talked real sweet to her, patted her like some frightened kitten on the ride over. I just sat and watched them. I'd pretty much stopped being star-struck after the first few trips. I'd agreed to volunteer in order to get free admission to the show but I figured I'd be putting on band-aids or passing out hot dogs. Instead, here I was, chauffeuring the acts in to the concert while everyone was getting in free anyway. I'd missed some good stuff, but I wasn't complaining. I knew I was getting a perspective that not many people had.

"This way," I said over the helicopter's roar as we stepped off into Max Yasgur's field.

It was drizzling and gray, and the ground was squishy under our feet. I made sure they both had shoes before we started back to the trailers. There was a lot of broken glass around that got lost in the grass. It was funny, because we landed in a separate area (the kids had figured out that sometimes we were bringing acts in by air and had started to crowd around to see who was getting off next) but no one even looked twice when I led those two behind me, even in the midst of the crowd.

Maybe Janis just wasn't that recognizable in her faded bellbottoms. She had her long, frizzy hair pulled back and was carrying a bag over her shoulder, and I guess she didn't look that important. In the helicopter, she seemed to have this glow, a sort of light. There was a moment when she pulled the girl's hair aside and whispered something to her and then winked over at me—but the minute we stepped out into the crowd, she changed. It was like she could make herself dim somehow, almost invisible, and we passed through them all unnoticed.

We had trailers set up for the acts to sleep in, although some had brought their own (the ones who made it through before the roads got all jammed.) Some of them had pitched tents, too, and were roughing it, just like the kids out on the lawn. This was long before those days when stars demanded only green M&M's or Evian water in their hotel rooms. This was long before most of these acts were, well... stars. I showed them both to a trailer where some of the other girls were staying—Grace Slick opened the door holding a beer and wearing a pair of cut-offs and a red tube top and she smiled at me and invited them in.

Once I knew they were safe and sound, I waved my goodbyes and thought that was it. I was pretty much looking forward to my freedom for the rest of the concert. Janis caught up to me, though, a little breathless and in bare feet now, I noticed.

"Hey, man, thanks," she said, giving me that smile—the one she had given me on the helicopter ride over that made my stomach do a little flip.

"Don't sweat it," I replied, giving her a smile back, tossing my hair over my shoulder. It was thick and dark and almost as long as hers. "You shouldn't go around out here without shoes. Lots of broken glass."

"Yeah?" There was that smile again, the one that said she liked to live dangerously. "Hey, so you look like a cat that knows people..."

I shrugged. "Maybe..."

"What's your bag, man?" she asked, giving me a nudge. "I need some wake-ups..."

I got her drift. "Sure. You got some bread?"

She didn't just smile then, she laughed. "More than I can ever spend, baby. Just bring it back here, ya dig?"

I nodded and called after her, "Put on some shoes!"

She laughed again and gave me the peace sign before going into the trailer.

I had my own connections that weekend. Three of us, me, my friend, Mark, and his sister, Susan, had all agreed to volunteer in order to waive the "admission" and we had set up a tent back behind the stage, where most people couldn't even go. All us freebies were staying back there, and we had our own little world set up in the midst of the chaos.

I got Janis what she asked for, and went back to deliver it, checking my watch. John Sebastian was playing now—Kenny had found him wandering in the crowd and had wrangled him into playing, since so many acts were either stuck in traffic or had backed out at the last minute. I'd seen a glimpse of Sebastian on the way by, wearing a tie-dyed shirt and pedal pushers, dedicating his next song to a girl who'd just had a baby in the hospital tent. There was a job I was glad I didn't have! I just wanted to get out front for Joan Baez. I was also real glad I wasn't in charge of the scheduling part. I was happy just to be a lackey, doing what Kenny told me to do.

When I knocked on the trailer door, I heard a muffled, "Come in!"

It was dark inside. They had some sort of weird stuff over the windows that looked like cardboard covered in tinfoil. Janis and the girl (what the hell was her name? I wish I could remember) were laying together on a pull-out sofa bed, and Janis wasn't just missing her shoes now—all the rest of her clothes were gone, too.

The blonde was half under a sheet, her face buried between Janis' legs, so all I could see was a topless Janis with her arms thrown over her head and her eyes closed. She had that same expression, I swear to god, that I'd seen on her face during a concert when she was singing, getting really into it and grooving, you know?

"Got your uppers," I said, clearing my throat and averting my gaze. Didn't do much for my cock, though—it sprang to life all on its own.

"Mmmmm, thanks," Janis murmured, wiggling on the bed and opening her eyes to look at me. "Come here and let's all get down before we gotta get up..."

I stood, fixed to the spot, and watched her crook a finger at me. I looked around, like she must be talking to someone else. Her face wasn't kidding, and I saw the way her eyes slipped down to the crotch of my jeans, and all of a sudden they were even tighter than they were a minute ago.

"I... uh... the show..." I said, taking a hesitant step toward the couch bed.

The blonde hadn't stopped doing what she was doing, her hair falling like golden silk all over the sheets and Janis' creamy thighs. As the unreality of it all started to wear off, I found that I really wanted to see what was between them.

"Come on," Janis purred, arching her back and making a low noise in her throat at something the blonde was doing. "Don't bug out on me, now... I need you."

"Me?" I asked, gulping as I put the little packet of pills on the table next to the couch.

"Yes... you..." Her hand grabbed at my belt, yanking at the buckle.

"Hey!" I exclaimed when she unzipped my jeans, leaning up to look in like a kid opening a Christmas present when she pulled my cock free. Her hand was soft and warm, and the mischievous look in her eyes made me want to melt.

"What's your name again?" she murmured with a throaty laugh, like that amused her, and I groaned when she took me into her mouth.

I knew no one was ever going to believe me, even as it was happening. That's honestly what I remember thinking. Janis Joplin sucking my cock? Right. And the pigs flew over Yasgur's hog farm that day, too, right? What were you fucking on, Gary, 'cause I got to get me some of that shit!

"Gary," I gasped, watching her tongue snake out around the head, making me even harder, and I didn't even know that was possible. "My name's Gary..."

"Wanna fuck, Gary?" she asked, tilting her head at me, her eyes half-closed, and I couldn't tell if it was from pleasure, or if she was on something. The blonde was still working away between Janis' thighs, making soft wet noises, her bottom pushed up under the sheet now.

"I... uh..." Yeah, I hesitated. Believe it or not, I did. Two incredibly beautiful, naked women getting it on in front of me, and I said, "Uh."

"Ohhh... wait..." Janis squeezed my cock in her hand, making me jump, and a look came over her face I don't think I'll ever be able to describe. You know those pictures you've seen of her, the ones where she's shining and bright and beautiful? Like some of them that tried to capture her when she was belting out one of her songs, taken by the complete experience of it? It was like that—except that it was better.

She was lost in the moment—gone, man, just gone—moaning and wailing and bucking on the bed, and the little blonde had to hold on for dear life, her face still buried there at the apex of Janis' thighs. And then it was like Janis was sailing, free, her eyes rolled back, her tongue caressing her lower lip, her grip loosening just a little on my cock.

"Yeahhhhh," she moaned, petting the blonde's soft head. "Oh far fucking out..."

It was then that I made up my mind. Mostly because I wanted to see it again, that sublime look on her face. My cock, of course, had its own agenda. It saw two young naked women and wanted what it wanted. And I wanted it, too, I admit it. But that wasn't all. That wasn't even close to all. I wanted her. I wanted to make her feel that moment, just like that, and I wanted to go there with her.

There was no telling us apart for a while, and I think someone came in and out of the trailer, too, at one point, but it's foggy. The little blonde (what the fuck was her name?! Damn, I wish I could remember) was all over me the minute I got undressed and slid between the sheets. She had a tongue that wouldn't quit and she used it all over my cock, her face still wet with Janis, as me and Janis started making out. God, it felt like we kissed for hours, and all the while, this cute little blonde was making these soft kitten noises between my legs as she sucked me.

Janis got tired of waiting for me to make the first move, I think. I probably would have been content to stay just like that for a long damned time, but she put my hand over her breast. They were firm and sweet, and her nipple hardened like rock candy under my fingers and I had to taste. The low moan that came from her throat spurred me on, and I pulled her onto me, her hair falling all around us as she straddled me and I licked and sucked at the hard nubs.

"Come on down here, doll," the blonde murmured, her mouth on my cock replaced in an instant as she pulled Janis' hips downward, aiming me for her flesh. I had a moment to think, holy shit, I'm going to fuck Janis Joplin, but then all thought was gone as the blonde slid the head of my cock through the soft, wet flesh between Janis' thighs, and Janis herself rocked and slowly impaled herself on my length.

"Ohhhhh yeah, baby," Janis whispered, licking my ear. "That's just what I needed."

Fucking heaven. I was fucking heaven, and she danced on my cock like a goddess, sitting up so she could rub herself as she rolled and ground down against my hips. My hands gripped her ass, moving her up and down on my cock, feeling the head pressed somewhere deep inside of her flesh, the slow friction building like some exquisite form of torture.

The blonde was lying next to us and watching, her fingers buried in her pussy, and my eyes lingered there, watching her touch herself, her breath hot in my ear as she whispered the nastiest, dirtiest things she could think of. It was beyond hot, and I think she knew it—she was digging it, too, hearing me moan and try to hold back as she told me to fuck Janis' wet little cunt. Harder! Faster!

"Yeah, baby," Janis moaned, her eyes moving over the blonde, too, and then back to me. "Listen to her... fuck me good and hard!"

I wasn't gonna be able to keep up with these two, I knew it. My cock was already throbbing for release, waiting to explode, and with the blonde whispering in my ear and Janis grinding against me and growling for all she was worth, there was just no way I could hold out much longer.

Still, I gave it my best effort, grabbing Janis' hips and shoving up deep inside, a motion that threatened to send me over in an instant. I gritted my teeth, holding back, and shoved up again, hearing Janis wail. That made me crazy. I loved the sound of her and wanted more, driving deep so she made that sweet music as I slammed my cock up into her waiting flesh again and again.

"Oooooo yesss!" It was the blonde, biting my shoulder as her body shook with her orgasm, her fingers squelching in her pussy as she fucked herself to completion. Her full, firm breasts pressed hard into my side as she arched with her climax, her hand rocking between her thighs. Just seeing and feeling her pleasure pushed me over, and I knew it was too late to stop it.

"Oh fuck," I moaned, my fingers digging in deep on Janis' hips. I thought it fair to at least give her a warning. "I'm gonna cum!"

"Come on, come on," Janis urged, rolling her hips on me with such force that she felt like a wave crashing, and I was drowning in her. I groaned and thrust up hard, feeling the first ecstatic eruption of my cum filling her wet, grinding flesh. Her face was changing, and I knew she was headed there, too, lost in the bliss of the moment as she keened and howled, the sweet clamp of her pussy around my cock milking the rest of my cum with a hot, shuddering pulse.

She collapsed onto me, murmuring something unintelligible into my ear as she wrapped an arm around the blonde, too, and we all panted and floated away in a sweaty, slick embrace until someone knocked on the door a few moments later.

"Melanie!" It was Kenny. I knew his voice in an instant, and I jumped, grabbing for my clothes. Could volunteers get fired? Shit! "Are you in there? You're on after this set!"

"I'll be out in a minute!" the blonde called—Melanie! Of course, now I remembered. "Let me get dressed!"

Kenny didn't come in, thank god, and Melanie kissed us both before throwing on her clothes and heading out the door. Janis said she wanted to see her sing, and that was our intention. We even got up and started getting dressed, but then she gave me that smile, and I couldn't help but kiss her, and we were gone again. Thank god she didn't end up having to go on stage until some time in the middle of the night.

I watched her whole set, huddled between two girls in the crowd, sharing their blanket with a tarp pulled over our heads—it had rained all night. I saw that same look come over Janis' face a couple times during the show, that blissful moment when she wailed and rocked and her whole body shook with the force of it. I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful woman, before or since.

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Author's Note:
I was born the year after Woodstock, so of course everything in this story is fiction. I could never really do the epic event of Woodstock justice, but I hope you enjoyed my little fantasy piece of it. I tried to be historically accurate wherever possible.

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