tagChain StoriesRockNRoll Fantasy: AC/DC

RockNRoll Fantasy: AC/DC

byKev H©


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.


Edited by AngelShadow. Thank you, dear.

Was I nervous? You better believe it!

My friend and I had plotted, and we were determined to touch the flesh of these gods of rock. We might miss the last number, but we'd be ready to be noticed. And I certainly would be.

Tall and slender, I had a tendency to stand out in a crowd. Being almost 6' never has any disadvantages when you have a body like mine. I don't mean to brag...much...but how many tall women do you know who have smooth long legs that flair into curvy hips before narrowing into a tight waist, trim belly, and perky tits?

"Legs for days," one lover had commented before diving into my pussy. I had wrapped those legs around him, not letting go until he brought me to a pounding orgasm; that's probably the only reason that comment was stuck in my memory. Anyway, I topped off my body with a slender neck and sharp facial features. Fortunately for me, the black and straight hairstyle (ala Elvira) was in style, and my long black hair helped make me even more noticeable.

The Texas night was warm and electric as I swung my legs into my friend's car. Shel looked me over and purred, "We gonna have fun tonight or what?"

"Yes!" I gave her a high-five before taking a swig of the Crown Royal bottle she handed me. We did not say another word on the trip to Coca Cola Starplex; we couldn't hear over the stereo system anyway. The best way to get cranked for a concert was a shot of fire to the gut and a shot of noise to the ears. Fuck! It was going to be a wild night!

I could feel the warm breeze teasing my hair, and I shivered right as the darkness was broken by a single spot. On the man. Angus! He began to crank on the steel, in a simple but powerful progression. It was almost hard to hear; the crowd was going nuts!

Cutting like a knife through the tension: "The newest just for you, Dallas!" Brian was suddenly there, and the band launched into their newest, "Who Made Who." Hell's bells, it was a brilliant show!

They shook us, all right, but for me, the night was young. With perfect timing, I was standing as close as possible when the stretch limo came slinking around the back, having slipped through the back gates with Shel on my heels. And here they came, still flush and sweaty from the wild stage performance. Waving to their more rabid fans (and we were definitely cheering them like we were possessed) they slipped one by one into the back of the black limo. I surged forward against the bouncers, the crowd pushing me as everyone tried to get closer. Yelling "I love you's" with the best of them, I was being contained by the guards. I began to see my chance slip away; they were going to roll away from me, and this gentle but very strong guard was keeping me from my prize.

"I'll take this babe." I heard from behind him, and suddenly I was yanked by the arm in through the open limo door. Before I knew it, I was sitting...yes sitting on Angus' lap.

"Good God, woman, what's you name?" I squirmed in his lap, smirking in silence. I didn't trust my voice; I swear I felt hard flesh beneath my ass as he checked me out. "Well, I name you 'Hot'!" And with that he buried his tongue in my mouth. Or maybe I buried mine in his mouth, for some reason I don't remember that as well as I should have, but I do know I was going to make the most of this rare opportunity.

I felt the car begin to move, and I moaned into his mouth. Oh my god! I was going with the band, and I knew instinctively I was headed through the land of partying into the realms of pleasure. I felt more than two hands on me, caressing my hips, my arms and hard nipples.

As I broke the kiss to gasp and fling my head back, Angus reached under my short skirt, caressing the wet silk of my panties. "Mmm," he breathed into my ear as I hugged tightly to him, "glad I'm not the only one with a wet spot." I licked his jawline, gathering more of his saltiness and willing him to rub me as I opened for him. He did better than that, sliding his guitar-calloused fingers under the edge of my panties and into my pussy. I moaned and encouraged him, stopping only to lick or kiss him again.

"Damn, Angus," his brother commented, taking a long swig of whiskey before passing the bottle to Cliff (they were all wide-eyed at this point in our performance). Angus only grinned at them before kissing my neck.

I smoothed out my dress before we pulled to a stop at the Crescent. A few more clever fans were waiting for them as they were shown into the hotel. Two typical Texas blondes also became attached to our group as we ascended to the elite area. I don't usually get along with that type, but they had such excited grins that I bonded for no other reason than our shared enthusiasm.

When we reached their suite, the liquor came out and the music from my favorite rock station got cranked. I could feel the tickle in the back of my throat and knew the drinks were spiked. Let the party really begin.

Inhibitions came down; clothes came off; Angus slipped off my panties and pocketed them, grinning like a naughty little boy. I remember at once point, the radio announced something about their concert and everyone was cheering and toasting. Brian was in the middle of the room in his boxers, arms raised with a glass in each hand. "Another kick ass performance!"

The memories are mostly blurred, like action shots taken by a camera with a slow shutter speed. I know how I felt though. I was in heaven – completely sexual and completely into the moment.

I remember clinging to Angus most of the night and the morning, but I was not clear-headed until I was saying my goodbyes.

"You are fucking incredible," Angus said as I snuggled against his neck.

"When you are blue, remember me and remember why you rock." I kissed him and walked into the bright morning sun.

I had to shift in the taxi seat; I could feel the bumps in the road, as they pressed the seat against my sore pussy. I directed the driver to my friend's house, and predictably, Shel was waiting for me. She was still in her robe, hair with that tossed-and-turned look.

"You bitch," she said several times as I told her what I could remember, but she could not help grinning at me. I had no regrets; I had been with the party gods and lived to tell about it. You know the lyric "Went through to Texas, yea Texas, and we had some fun;" I'd bet that was about us.

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