tagChain StoriesRockNRoll Fantasy: Tom Waits

RockNRoll Fantasy: Tom Waits



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.


This tale is set in the early '70s, while Tom was still drinking regularly and smoked like a chimney. Please note that it also takes place before he met his wife.

While I have attempted to interject some realism into this piece, please remember that it is fiction and I'm not perfect. This is part of the Rock N Roll Fantasies chain; please seek out the other stories for more steamy fan fiction.


The club was so smoky that a cloud hit Stacey when she opened the door. She looked around, scanning the small crowd for him. Theirs was a blind date; she'd seen an old picture or two of him that Rose had, but they were otherwise completely unknown to one another. She was half an hour late and didn't see Dave anywhere, so she plopped down on a stool at the crowded bar.

"Whiskey sour, please." She smiled at the bartender and rummaged in her purse. Finding what she was after, she shook a cigarette loose from the pack and placed it between her lips. Her search for a lighter continued.

The man who slid into the stool next to her was attractive, in a scruffy way. She watched him out of the corner of her vision; then he fired up his Zippo, its flame meeting the cigarette in her mouth.

"Got a spare?" His smile seemed cocky and shy, all at once. Stacey was intrigued.

The bartender came back with her drink, along with a beer and shot of scotch for her new companion.

"I've got the lady's drink," he said softly, pushing a pile of crumpled bills towards the man behind the counter.

Stacey smiled her thanks, studying the man's face.

"You know, I'm supposed to be meeting someone here..."

"I apologize - I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, that's not it. Would you mind my things while I make a phone call?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, tipping his hat in her direction before downing his shot and ordering another.

Stacey took a quarter from her bag and make her way to the pay phone in the corner. She dropped the coin in and dialed Rose's number. The phone rang several times before her friend answered.

"Rose, it's Stacey. I'm at the club, but I don't see Dave anywhere. I had a hard time getting a taxi, got here a bit late. Have you heard from him?"

"I haven't, honey. But I'm sure he wouldn't just leave you there. Maybe he had the same trouble getting a cab."

"Alright... Well, I'll be here if you do hear from him. It was hard enough getting here, I'm at least going to have a few drinks."

Rose and Stacey said their goodbyes; Stacey made her way back to the bar. Everything was just where she'd left it, including the handsome fellow with his faint odor of scotch. She reclaimed her seat and drink, then brought out her pack of cigarettes. She offered the pack to her companion.

"Care for one?" Stacey licked her lips, suddenly a bit shy.

"No thanks," he grinned, pulling a crumpled pack out of his own pocket.

"I just needed an excuse to talk to you," he continued, "Here, have one of mine." He pried two smokes from their prison and held one out to Stacey; she wrapped her lips around the filter and winked at him. Out came the Zippo once more - he lit both cigarettes and waved to the barkeep for another shot.

"You didn't need an excuse, handsome," she winked. Stacey couldn't believe how brazen she suddenly was; what was it about this man that made her so very bold? There was indeed a certain magnetism about him...

"Let's make this official, shall we? I'm Stacey." She held her hand out to him.

"Nice to meet you, Stacey. I'm Tom." He took her offered hand and shook it briefly. "Where's your date?"

"Unfortunately, elsewhere. Or maybe I should say fortunately. He's a friend's cousin; we've never met. I was late and I think he may have gotten cold feet."

"His loss. I'd be happy to keep you company; drinks on me, too." Tom punctuated his statement by slamming back another shot of scotch and motioning for the bartender. Almost before they knew it, Stacey had another whiskey sour sitting in front of her. The barkeep slid a beer and a shot in front of Tom, winked at the two of them and then wandered off to mind his own damned business.

"You don't have to..."

"But I want to. So sit and have a few drinks with this tired fool, pretty lady?" He flashed his teeth at her, hopeful that she'd accept his offer.

"Alright, you got me," she laughed, draining her first drink and starting on the second.

"Do you live in Austin?" After he'd been quiet for a few minutes, she wanted to make sure Tom was still with her.

"Oh... no," he laughed, shaking off his reveries. "I live in LA. Came out here to play at some clubs."

"Oh yeah? Where are you playing in town?" Her eyes lit up; not only was he nice to look at and with that rough charm, but he was also artistic. He really did seem like he'd be worth getting to know.

"Actually, I played here earlier tonight. I'm heading north tomorrow."

"That's a damn shame. I wish I hadn't been late. What do you play?"

"I play some piano, sing a bit... Ready for another drink?"

He didn't seem comfortable talking about himself, and Stacey thought it was cute. She let the subject drop and told Tom she'd love another drink. She finished the one in front of her and excused herself, headed for the restroom. When she returned, there were new drinks sitting on the bar. Tom was gone. Stacey looked around, wondering if she'd been ditched for the second time that evening. She was startled when the bartender leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"He'll be right back, miss. I was watching your drinks; he had to take a leak."

Relieved, Stacey sat and toyed with her glass. She slid a tip across the bar in thanks. For her, it was a good sign that the burly man behind the bar seemed so enamored of Tom. Usually, the staff was too busy to cater so closely to the musicians who played at the club. He must not be one of the assholes. She grinned and rolled a maraschino cherry around on her tongue.

Stacey heard him before she saw him, laughing and shaking hands with another man by the restroom. She enjoyed the sound of his laughter; in fact, his voice had a somewhat aphrodisiac effect on her. Being damn near certain that her intended date wasn't going to show, she resolved to let herself go - she hoped that she could spend the rest of the evening with her new friend. At least the entire evening wasn't a bust. He made his way back to the bar, smiling like the Cheshire cat. Stacey watched his slow progress and returned his grin when he sat down next to her.

"So, Tom, have you got a hotel room yet?" Stacey didn't want to seem too forward, but she'd finally just decided to throw caution to the wind and see what happened.

"Yeah, but it's a dive..." Tom cocked an eyebrow at her, unsure of where the conversation was headed.

"Then you should come back to my place. My couch is likely more comfortable than your bed over there." She smiled prettily, then turned back to her drink before he could see the blush creeping across her cheeks.

"That sounds like a mighty fine plan. Let's see what trouble we can get into." He beamed at her, then downed his drinks in record time.

Stacey followed his lead, tossed back the rest of her whiskey sour while Tom settled up with the bartender. They wandered out to the street and hailed a taxi. She gave the driver her address.

"You wanna stop somewhere for some beer?" Tom looked a bit sheepish.

"I've got it covered," Stacey grinned, glad the bar was stocked back at her apartment. I may not have many skills, she thought, but I'm one hell of a hostess.

They rode back to Stacey's apartment building in near-silence, the only exceptions being when she would point out a bit of something interesting past the car's windows. Tom seemed fixated by the full moon and the city's landscape. When they arrived at her place, Stacey paid and tipped the taxi driver. She put her hand on his wrist, directing him up the stairs to her place. It took her a moment to unlock the door.

Once they'd made it inside, they were greeted by a large calico cat. She screamed at them, happily rubbing up against their legs.

"Hello, Miss Amelia," Stacey purred, "I missed you too, baby." The cat purred back before jogging to her food dish.

"Shit, I forgot to feed you earlier." She followed the cat and picked up a small bowl by her feet. After filling the dish and returning it to its feline owner, Stacey turned back to Tom.

"What'll you have?" She gestured at her liquor cabinet. "There's beer in the fridge too - Guinness and Beck's."

"You're an angel." The words fell from his lips like an aural waterfall. "I'd love a Guinness and a shot of scotch."

"Thanks, darlin'. Looks like you're a man after my own heart." She sashayed to the refrigerator, stopping to grab glassware on the way.

Minutes later, she was back at his side with a pint of Guinness and a glass of ice for each of them. She also brought a bottle of Glenfiddich, liberated from the liquor cabinet, and filled both of their scotch glasses. She gestured to a stool at the bar in the kitchen.

"Here, or would you prefer to sit on the couch?"

"This is wonderful," he rasped, his voice husky after a long night of vocal cord abuse.

Stacey took the stool across from his as he sat. She noticed him looking around and pulled an ashtray out from under the bar.

"Is this what you're looking for?"

"You've got me down already, angel," he chuckled, lighting two cigarettes. He handed one to Stacey.

They sat at Stacey's little bar, smoking, drinking and talking until nearly sunrise. She noticed the sky lightening and thought aloud that they should get some sleep. After all, he had to return to the road soon.

"You're still welcome to the couch, hon," she purred, "But I've also got plenty of room in my bed." Her heart pounded in her ears while she suffered in silence, awaiting his response.

"Sure, I'd love to join you," he replied, staring at his shoes. "It's been a while since I've had the opportunity to enjoy the company of cold beer and a warm woman." Stacey suspected that he was trying to hide the flush in his own cheeks, much as she had done hours before.

She started making her way towards the bedroom after putting their glasses in the sink. Amelia had fallen asleep in front of the bedroom door, so Stacey picked her up and brought her to the couch. The cat purred but never opened her eyes. She and Tom had both taken off their shoes hours before; Stacey swept them up and set them just beyond the bedroom door. She walked to her closet, turning her back towards Tom. There she disrobed down to her panties and shrugged into an oversized t-shirt.

When Stacey turned back to face Tom, she was a bit surprised to find him watching her. Laughing, she went to him and helped him out of his shirt and pants. He looked a bit awkward but wore a grin. Stacey ran her fingers through his unruly locks and kissed his cheek.

"Thanks for the company tonight, Tom. You saved me from a rather mundane evening."

"The pleasure's been all mine."

I sincerely doubt that, she thought. And I hope that our evening isn't quite at its end.

"So, here's the deal," she smiled, eyes gleaming wickedly. "If you want me, I'm yours. And if you don't, no hard feelings. I'm usually not quite so bold, but I like you and you're leaving town soon. So..."

He cut off her barrage of words with a kiss, pressing his lips to hers while wrapping his arms around her. His mouth tasted of liquor and cigarette smoke, as she imagined her own did. Thrusting her tongue between his lips, Stacey's hand went back to tangle itself once more in his curls. She pulled him closer, kissing him harder - so intense, it was almost painful. Their teeth gently gnashed while their tongues moved together.

Stacey guided him backwards until his legs bumped into the bed. She gave him a playful shove; he landed on his back, feet still on the floor. He looked up at her, eyes wide with amusement and lust. She leaned over him, kissing his stomach. He ran his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp.

"Mmmm... You know, I'm sure glad your date didn't show up. Not just because of this, of course..."

It was Stacey's turn to interrupt her new lover. She reached up and slid an index finger into his mouth, rubbing his cock through his boxer shorts. Understandably, he went from half mast to full rather promptly.

Almost coyly, Stacey moved up towards the head of the bed and patted the empty space there. Tom propped himself up, moving backwards. As he did so, she curled her fingers around the waistband of his boxers and pulled them away from his body. They were gone, or at least inconsequential, by the time he'd reached the spot she indicated.

"You're a good boy," Stacey giggled. She wrapped her fingers around his cock and began licking its head as though it were some delicious sweet. He groaned, arching his back and lifting his hips the slightest bit.

Without letting go of him, Stacey rotated until she was straddling his body; her center was just inches from his face. Tom tugged her panties down and then grabbed her hips, trying to bring her pussy closer. She laughed around his cockhead in her mouth, wiggling her ass at him without relenting.

"Fine," he grunted. Lifting his arm back and up for leverage, he smacked her ass. She purred around his cock, taking more of it into her mouth.

He pulled back again, gently swatting her other ass cheek. Once more, she made happy noises; the vibrations resonated throughout him. Tom rubbed the spots he'd spanked and then took hold of her hips again. She gave in to his tugging this time, allowing him to stretch her legs out. She moaned when he parted her labia with his tongue, lapping up the juices that had started accumulating.

Stacey continued playing her lips and tongue over the head of his cock, milking him with her hand, while his tongue attacked her clit. He used the tip of his tongue to coax the small organ out of hiding. She panted, trying to remain quiet - the walls were thin and her neighbors rather drab folks who probably didn't want to hear her adventures. Not that she had many...

Tom's tongue slid over her labia and clit, pulling back to blow cool air over them after he'd gotten them nice and wet. She shivered, her hand bearing down harder on him. Ooh, I like this game.

"Come on, angel," he whispered, "Let go."

Stacey knew what he meant. Her fingers slowed their dance around his cock; she ran on auto pilot, willing herself to relax into him. His tongue thrust into her pussy, his fingers teasing her clit; rolling, pinching, petting, trying to coax the little death from her. Finding her rhythm, Stacey gyrated against his fingers. Her own ministrations became more frenzied as she approached orgasm; she wanted him to find that nirvana with her.

Finally, finally... she quaked, shuddering into Tom's hand and face.

"That's it, babe." He continued petting her, more gently now. She caught her breath and started back in on him; she wasn't done with him yet. Her fingers wrapped tighter around his shaft, she massaged him. Her tongue followed the path of the split in his cock's head, pausing to wiggle in his slit. He grunted and slid a finger deep into her wetness; quickly, a second finger wiggled inside her. He took her with his fingers while she sucked, licked and groped every bit of his cock.

"Oh, angel, babe..." he groaned, his dick twitching in her hand. She took him back into her mouth, eagerly sucking him dry while he brought her to another orgasm. This time she bucked and writhed, dribbling cum onto his outstretched fingers.

Stacey collapsed on top of him, taking a moment to recover before flipping herself. She slithered up beside Tom, resting her head and the fingers of one hand on his chest.

"Think you'll be back anytime soon?" she inquired, yawning and attempting to fend off slumber for just a few more moments.

"Stranger things have happened," he rasped, drifting off to sleep.


Feedback is much appreciated.

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