Psychology of a GroupiebyTinyBeth©
I stood outside the stage door, my heart thumping in my chest. I looked around the grubby sidewalk of the street downtown; I wasn't the only one out here. There was the usual collection of lowlifes hanging around trying to bum smokes, guitar geeks that wanted to talk about gear and I wasn't the only girl nervously checking her makeup and fixing her stockings. The band had just finished up their set and would be out the door any minute. The bouncer eyed the small crowd, looking for troublemakers and problematic drunks.
How had I come to be out here; dressed in a black camisole and miniskirt, my face made up like a Glamour Shot and wearing higher heels than I was ever inclined to otherwise? I was just some girl from the suburbs, barely a woman and just experienced enough to know what I wanted and I was determined to get it. It wasn't really about the sex. Ok that was a lie. Of course it was about the sex. Music is sex.
I remember the first time my friend Helena mentioned a great new local band. I hadn't gone with any expectations other than of hearing yet another mediocre indie rock outfit. This was different. The music was... powerful I guess is the right word. Every song spoke directly to me. I know that sounds conceited, but when music really hits me that is how it feels. My knees went weak. I was overwhelmed with emotions and sensations. I stood still and floated in a moment of bliss where sight and sound and everything else became perfect.
That's when I really saw HIM for the first time. He was playing lead guitar. His jaw was tensed and his lips were puckered slightly in concentration as he focused on a solo. He was so beautiful I wanted to cry. Or maybe to laugh with joy. I had never felt so much all at once. Raw energy surged back and forth and around the room. Just as he finished with a flourish he looked me in the eye I swear I almost came right there in the middle of the bar. I was hooked.
I tried to make every show of theirs I could, treating them like my own personal Grateful Dead. If I was a little worn out the next day at work or had to struggle to find the cover I didn't care. Seeing them was my drug. The electric look that would sear between him and me was more addictive than any high from drugs. I needed it. I had to have it.
I was single and had been for months. Oh I had the occasional date and even the occasional lay, but none of it was half as satisfying as standing in a crowded club with a hundred other people. Even crammed in shoulder to shoulder it felt more intimate than the best sex I had ever had. I had been going to their shows for about four months when I noticed them, the girls gathered on the side of the stage. They were always doing little things to help the band out; fetching drinks, untangling cords and I swear I even saw one sewing a button back on a pair of pants. In return the band showered smiles on them, bought the girls extra drinks and generally left with one or more of them after a show. "Ugh, groupies," I heard the derisive dismissal of the group by a pair of sorority girls.
Groupies? Do those even exist anymore? I remembered hearing vague stories of the GTO's, the Plaster Casters and others from the 60's and 70's; the notorious groupie gangs that made rock and roll so infamous in the era before the Moral Majority. But I didn't really know anything more than vague names; Ms. Pamela, Cherry Vanilla, and Linda Eastman- Paul McCartney's deceased wife. When I got home I logged on to my computer and started looking up some of the more ribald details I had heard about. With the exception of the Led Zeppelin mud-shark incident, which almost everyone says never happened; I was surprised to find out that far from being thought of as sluts most of the women were venerated by the male musicians. In the UK especially the women were more than just easy access sexual partners; they were the keys to almost every band's support network.
The more I read, the more turned on I got. The more turned on I got the more I knew in that this was what I wanted. This was what I had been looking for; a synergistic relationship between artist and admirer.
A little hesitantly at the next show I walked over and said hi to the girls by the stage. Surprised to get a good reaction out of one of the other women in the room one of them motioned me over to stand by her. I did, keeping my eyes glued to my favorite guitar player. She noticed my attention and whispered, "You like Will, huh?"
Shamefaced, I blushed and nodded in response. "Oh sweetie, you're just his type too. But let me guess. You've never...."
"Oh, I'm not a virgin," I quickly answered turning even redder.
She giggled and said "I doubted that hon, but you've never....picked up a musician have you?"
I shook my head, some of my embarrassment receding but far from all of it. "Sweetheart it's easier than you think. Next show put on the sexiest outfit you own and wait by the stage door for when they load out after the gig. I'm sure Will will come right to you. He's barely taken his eyes off you the whole set."
I shook my head in disbelief, it couldn't be that simple! I started to stumble together a response when my new friend shushed me. "This is my favorite song. Why don't we meet up for coffee tomorrow and you can ask me whatever you want?"
The next day I met up with my new friend Nancy at the corner café and couldn't stop myself from immediately asking, "How did you start....." I wasn't sure how to finish that question. What was the politically correct term for a groupie?
She laughed as she sat down and stirred sugar into her coffee. "First of all, we don't care what you call us. Call us groupies, call us sluts, call us whatever name you can come up with. It doesn't really matter what people label us. We're having fun and living our lives the way we want and what others think of it doesn't matter. I've had pastors try and preach and mothers try and moralize, but what earthly reason is there to deny ourselves a good time? We're all adults."
"To answer your half-asked question, I've been friends with Cole the bass player since we were kids. In fact, he was my first love." A dreamy look of nostalgic remembrance crossed her face. "Because of him I've been around musicians since I was 16. By the time I was legal I was out of my head being around that much music and so many good looking guys. But most guys won't risk their necks for jailbait and treated me like a little sister. So I was their gopher, their errand girl. I loved the music so I wanted to do it."
"One night shortly after my eighteenth birthday I was packing up the PA at the end of a house show when Casey from the Outlines came over to thank me for helping out. We started flirting and then he began giving me a back rub and from there things just kind of progressed. We started making out. Damn he was a good kisser," she broke off briefly, that dreamy nostalgic look back in her eye "Anyway, he pulled me into one of the bedrooms and shut and locked the door behind him. He started muttering about how long he had wanted to see me naked and how much he loved my tits as he started pulling my clothes off. I didn't stop him. When that door closed I knew I wanted it just as much as he did."
"He started squeezing my breasts and I unzipped his jeans and pulled down his boxers. Once that thing was out I didn't even try to stop myself. I started sucking his dick like it was my lifeline." Another dreamy look immediately replaced by one of steel. "Damn it tasted good and I had waited so long for someone to stop treating me like a kid. I was ready."
"After a few minutes he said that he wanted to finish in me. I admit I was a bit nervous since at that time I had only been with Cole and a couple of other guys from school, but I let him steer me towards the bed. He grabbed a condom and asked me to help him get it on while he helped me get ready. I stroked his cock and worked the rubber over the shaft while he returned the oral favor. He was really good at that too." She stopped her story again with another wistful look.
A moment later she continued. "So yeah, you can pretty much figure out the rest. He pulled me into bed and we fucked up a storm until the host of the party kicked everyone out a couple hours later." She chuckled. "That was a little embarrassing, but he didn't care and neither did anyone else. To them, two people hooking up at a show was normal."
"The simple fact is- I love music and I love musicians. They get me hot. And I suspect you're the same way. There's no shame in it unless you accept shame for it."
I listened wide-eyed to her tale and I couldn't deny it had turned me on. I also couldn't argue with her statement that shame was a function of other people. If I didn't feel shame then there was no shame to be felt no matter what anyone else thought. It was that simple.
"All you have to do is show Will you want him and the rest will happen."
Nancy's words ran through my head as I checked my lipstick for the tenth time. She gave me an encouraging smile and a wink from the other side of the door. I nervously shifted my weight from one foot back to the other. It felt like I had been waiting for hours, but really only had been for about ten minutes. The bouncers gave a stern look to the crowd as they opened the door and a flow of roadies carrying equipment began coming out.
I saw Cole first, carrying his bass. He stopped and gave Nancy a kiss. She returned his kiss before turning to me and saying, "Cole, I want you to meet Amy. She really wants to meet Will."
I blushed again as Cole looked at me and smiled. "Well hello Amy. We've seen you at shows for a while and were hoping you'd eventually introduce yourself. You look fantastic by the way. I know Will would love to meet you." He looked down the hallway. "Ah there he is. Will, meet Amy."
Will came through the door with his guitar case and paused at Cole's greeting. His eyes met mine and just like when he was on stage I felt like I was falling into them. They were hungry as he looked me over from my styled hair down to my 4" heels. His smile was like a thousand suns. He handed his guitar to Cole and put an arm around my shoulders. As soon as he touched me all of my nerves went away. Like Nancy had said, I knew what I wanted and the knowledge that I was going to get it made my head spin then settle in the course of seconds.
He pulled me back into the hallway and leaned me against the wall. The first kiss was sweet as honey. "I've wanted to....mmmm...meet you for...a while," he mumbled against my lips.
I gasped as his kiss became fiercer, catching my breath in tiny bursts around the pressure of his tongue. "I was...a little shy," I stuttered.
His smile was absolute magic. "You don't look it tonight."
"I don't feel it tonight," I replied as his kiss took back over.
He motioned for me to follow him into the green room. I started to look around to see if anyone could see what I was doing, but then I realized that I didn't care if anyone saw me or not. I wasn't doing this to be cool and I was doing it whether anyone thought it was "right" or not.
Will closed the door and propped a chair under the knob as a makeshift lock. The room was shabby, but comfortable with a big overstuffed couch and mismatched chairs. The remains of a pitcher of beer and a snack littered the table. I took it all in in a glance before another kiss blocked out my vision. For a moment, a part of me was still shocked at my own behavior before it dissolved away in a flood of pleasure. I moaned slightly and my knees began to give out. Will noticed my reaction and half-carried me over to the couch where he gently set me down.
I had one last coherent thought of wondering just how many women had ended up on this couch before Will's tongue took over again. As his lips moved up my neck he whispered, "I've been dreaming of this for months." His practiced hands felt callused but not rough as he stroked my back under my camisole. He slipped the straps down off my shoulders and pulled it off, releasing my grapefruit round breasts with their tannish nipples. The magic fingers that worked a fret board so well had them stiff and erect in seconds. I whimpered like a puppy as he teased and gently pulled on them.
His other hand continued to roam up and down my back until I felt it go down the back of my skirt to squeeze a round cheek. I could feel my legs begin to open and the dampness of my thong as a finger traced along the outside of the lace; the slick furnace of heat on the other side getting warmer by the moment. He gently moved the fabric aside and his first touch on my lips and vulva sent me from furnace to inferno. His fingertips danced among my folds as if they were strings on a neck, bending and cajoling sounds from me like the instrument he loved so much and damn what an expert player he was proving to be.
Will slid my skirt down to my ankles before it joined my camisole on the floor, leaving nothing but my thong, stockings and heels on. He stopped briefly and drunk in the sight of me stretched out ready and willing for him before another kiss seared my consciousness. His lips trailed down my body; over the sensitive zone of my neck; down to the mounds of my breasts licking and sucking my nipples; over my belly button and down to the lace of my underwear.
He changed directions then and dropped down, caressing my ankle around the strap of my heel. He deftly undid the clasp and slid the shoe off and then did the same to the other. Fingers and lips travelled up my calf and around my ticklish knees. I was so intoxicated by the sensations I couldn't be sure whether he used his hands or mouth to remove first one stocking and then the other. My entire body was screaming for him and he was making sure not an inch of me would regret a second of this.
The thong was all that was left as his lips moved back up to my waist and, contrary to the slow process he took with my stockings; it was off in flash before I was even completely aware of its removal. Will was on his knees, face level with my neatly trimmed bush. He leaned me back on the couch before moving in to touch my inner thigh with his lips. They kissed around until I felt them cover my quim and his tongue pushing into me. I stiffened involuntarily at first, but quickly relaxed as his tongue began to make love to my pussy.
It was the most intense sensation I had ever experienced. His mouth was eliciting responses no boyfriend I ever had could come close to matching. The former inferno had become a volcano and I was getting scared about how I would handle the inevitable eruption. I was honestly not sure if I could keep taking this level of pleasure long. From one second to the next his tongue changed from soft and delicate to firm and penetrating. It ran along the separation between my inner and outer labia, up and around to tease my clitoris and down and inside and around like a roller coaster, my mind dizzily trying to comprehend what it was experiencing. My body began quivering as I let go into the best orgasm of my life.
Will pulled away to let me catch my breath for a moment. He gave me that million-dollar smile again and began to undo his belt. After a few seconds to clear my vision I moved in to help him. My hands joined his in unclasping the leather and metal and removing his jeans then went higher. I pulled his open button front shirt off then slid my hand around to remove the tank top underneath. My fingers played over his thin, light chest hairs as I motioned for him to take my place on the couch. Another grin of pure gold from him made my heart start beating faster than ever.
He still had his boxers on and I couldn't stand one more minute of seeing them on. I pulled them down around his Chuck Taylors before I yanked everything off. He laughed as an athletic sock got caught up in a tug of war between the leg of his boxers and the shoe. His laugh was like small bells. It made the whole thing perfect. We weren't a pair of skeevy people sneaking off to do dirty things in the dark. We were two people having fun in the prime of our lives.
He was naked and I looked him over. He was stroking his semi-hard erection and I put my hand over his to stop him and took over the motion. My hands and fingers were not as skilled as his, but within a few heartbeats his breath was coming in short gasps and fluid began to leak from his head. I couldn't resist tasting it. I kept my hand moving up and down and positioned myself on my knees in front of the couch similarly to where he had been a few minutes earlier and took my first taste. He sat up sharply, his eyes unnaturally large for a second before they closed and his whole body shuddered. My tongue traced around the head of his dick, collecting drops like a bee does pollen.
I had never really enjoyed giving blowjobs in the past. Generally guys get so pushy about how they want it done it turns into nothing but pressure. Yet this time I couldn't imagine that Will was enjoying himself any more than I was. I went a little lower, taking the head and the first part of his shaft past my lips and into my mouth. Will wasn't rushing me, he was letting me take my time and he could tell I was getting off just as much as he was. I shifted positions just a bit and went deeper, my tongue still teasing the glands around the head. His responses astonished me; he was shivering like he had just stepped out of the shower and making small animal noises. I had never pulled it off before, but I knew I had to try. I shifted position again and pulled up for a moment. I shot him a quick grin and took a deep breath. I opened wide and swallowed him completely, fighting my gag reflex until I felt him enter my throat. I began a slow rhythm that allowed me to breathe in between strokes. I couldn't believe myself. Every guy I had ever been with had tried to get me to deep-throat them and their attempted forcefulness on the subject had rarely ended well. But here I was, doing it of my own free will with a near stranger.
Will's guttural noises were getting louder as I picked up my pace. With almost no warning, I felt him stiffen again and prepared myself for his load. He must have known intuitively that I hate a mess so he released on an inward movement and right down my gullet. I was truly shocked when I responded with an orgasm of my own. My whole body felt electrified. Will slumped down into the couch, his eyes glazed over with the pleasure I had given him. He motioned for me to sit down next to him.
He moved in for another kiss; this one was gentle and soft. His arm went around me holding me close. He nibbled towards my ear and whispered, "Do you want.....I mean....I understand if you are done..." It took me a moment to realize what he was asking.
I gave him a bright smile of my own. "I want you," was all I said in response.
His whole face lit up again, the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. The arm around my shoulders drew me in close to him. Our naked bodies pressed together and the feeling of skin on skin was glorious. He pulled back for a moment to grab his pants and drew a condom out of the back pocket. He was already getting hard again as I assisted him, my hands working him back to full erection. He shifted the cushions of the couch until he made a soft nest for my head and neck and leaned me back. His hands ran up and down my thighs a few times before spreading them cautiously. I had never been more ready for someone.
I felt him at the entrance of my slit, the volcano inside me burning furiously. With his first stroke I swear I could hear music again. It was like watching him play a solo. The entire world froze in place and the only thing that existed was him and me and our bodies swaying and moving to music that only we could hear. The aching feeling of impending eruption didn't seem relevant any more. All that mattered was our two bodies throbbing, pulsing and thrusting in harmony. We were perfectly in sync. Every rise and fall of our breath was completely together. It was a revelation to me. I had never felt so in tune with the universe and its energy and rhythms.