At that the other strippers came out and I went backstage.
“You didn’t even take off your clothes!” one girl said.
Gerri, who was back there with us now said, “No, don’t you worry. You did a fine job and by the looks of that wad in your hand, they must have liked you. Who knew, a stripper who doesn’t strip!”
I was not a stripper nor did I care to be one. This was a one time trick pony and that was it. In fact, I just proved that I didn’t have to take off my clothes to be sexy.
I went into the bathroom and anxiously counted my money. There was $5,000 in my hand. I almost squealed.
Los Angeles here I come!
However…Las Vegas had other plans for me.
The club closed at 2 am but we stayed open for the band. The rumor was the band would most likely wrap up around three and all us girls chipped in to help clean up the back room.
Gerri gave me the following day off and I slept till 2 pm. I was planning on giving her my two weeks’ notice the next day, pay off my bill at the motel, get a car and head farther West.
The next night when I went into work, one of the waitresses stopped me and said that Gerri wanted to see me.
I made the way down the long, black hallway and knocked on her door.
I entered and she, as usual, was at her overcrowded and messy desk, glasses askew on her face, going over what looked to be a pile of bills.
Looking up she said, “Had a visitor in here last night looking for you.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, curious, “who was it?”
“That rock star.”
For a moment my heart stopped. Did she say my rock star or that rock star? How silly of me, she doesn’t even know I have my own personal rock star.
“Who?” I asked, trying not to appear anxious.
“You know, that lead singer from the other night. Seems he took a shine to you kiddo!”
“Yeah right,” I smirked. “What is this a joke or something?”
“Nah, it’s no joke. That new girl out there, what’s her name, Lindsay, said he came in here all proud and mighty and he asked where the belly dancer was. She thought he was drunk since we don’t have belly dancers here. Good thing another girl overheard them and she sent him to me. Yeah, I told him that you were off that night but would be back tonight.”
“What else did you tell him?”
“Well, I didn’t tell him you lived next door at the no tell motel or anything stupid like that. I’ve heard some weird things about that guy. If you ask me, all those rock stars are fucked in the head.”
Wow, I thought, a real living breathing rock star actually came looking for me.
She continued, “He’ll probably be back in again tonight.”
“Did he say that?”
She shook her head. “Didn’t have to. I can smell a hard on a mile away and that man wants you. But remember what your mama told you, always play hard to get. Makes em wonder and a little mystery does em good.”
That sage advice coming from a woman who ran a strip club!
Well Gerri had it wrong. He did not come back in that night or the next. I figured it was just a fluke or a bad joke and I really didn’t care. On his albums he was made up to look half way human but in real life, the other night, he wasn’t all that.
Long stringy hair, dirty bandana, skinny as a rail and I couldn’t get over the kink or drug thing.
Friday rolled around and the club was packed. I was busy passing drink orders to Ross when one of the other girls nudged me. She nodded toward the door. There he was, that rock star.
He was wearing skin tight skins, black leather jacket and the same dirty looking bandana. At least tonight, his hair looked clean.
There were two other men with him who walked behind him like secret service and they were all led back to the VIP room.
Suddenly the club took on an excitement that wasn’t there before he entered.
“What are you waiting for?” said the other waitress, “He’s here to see you.”
I ignored her and kept waiting tables. About 30 minutes later, Gerri came up and took the tray out of my hand. “You have been summoned,” she laughed and led me off to the back room.
My hair was a mess, pulled back into a long ponytail. My dark eye makeup from the other night gone with a swipe of sweat and face cream.
I made my way back to the room and there he was, sitting in the same chair from the other night. The bartender was at the private bar, the TV was on in the corner and the two “bodyguards” were being entertained by two of the dancers.
He looked at me, tilted his head and seemed to search my face for any signs of recognition as the beautiful exotic belly dancer from the night before. Suddenly he smiled. It was the smile from the other night.
“You the girl who danced for me the other night? The belly dancer?” he finally said.
I nodded.
“Well, where’s your costume?”
I smiled, “I’m not really a dancer, I’m a waitress here.”
He threw his head back in an “ah ha” sort of moment. “So, how’d you get roped into that gig?”
“What, the dancing?”
He nodded.
I just shrugged my shoulders.
He seemed to be sizing me up and probably wondering how the hell I was the same girl.
“Why don’t you sit down with me for a while,” he said. I have to admit, he did seem kinda sexy in a weird, dirty way.
I looked back, “I really have to get back to work.”
“What, you don’t want to sit down with me?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that I’m working and we’re a girl short tonight and…”
“I see. Well what time do you get off?”
I smiled a sideways grin and almost asked what time was he going to get me off but I opted for, “About two.”
“Okay,” he said, “maybe I’ll hang around for a while.”
I nodded and went back to work.
I know for a fact that those guys have every girl in the room hanging all over them and I refused to be that girl. If he wanted the gold between my legs, he was going to have to dig for it, work for it just like any other rock star.
Yeah, I might have spread my legs for any Tom, Dick and Harry but when it came to rock stars, that was a whole different story. I wanted more than just casual sex with them, I wanted the fantasy, I wanted it all.
About two hours later, I saw him and the two bodyguards leave. I felt disappointed in a way but hey, I’m sorry but if playing hard to get didn’t work, then fuck em! I was on to bigger and better things.
I thought about my rock star and thought how much he probably hated me by now. He asked me to see him when he got off tour and I wasn’t even there. Wake up Poppy! He probably didn’t hate me because he probably didn’t even remember me. I had to keep telling myself that what happened between us was not real, not real in any way.
A couple nights went by and no rock star then the following Friday, he made another appearance.
It was about 1:30 and he and the two bodyguards were led back to the VIP room and not long after, two strippers followed suit.
I saw Gerri coming my way and I knew what that meant so I put down my tray and made a beeline for the back room. Seeing this, she threw up her hand as if to say she saw me and she turned and took care of something else.
I spread the curtains open and walked inside.
“Did you miss me?” he smiled.
“No.”
“No? Come on girl, you sure know how to hurt a guy don’t you.”
I laughed, “I’m sure you’ll get over it.”
He laughed too. “Still getting off at two?”
I nodded.
“Okay, I’ll be here.”
I said okay and went back out to work.
Gerri wasn’t going to throw out her best customer so after the club closed, he was allowed to stay in the back room with his two guys and their two strippers.
“Ready for what?” I asked hoping he had the same answer that I wanted to hear.
“Come on, I’ll show ya. Limo’s out front.”
The limo was the front! It practically took up the whole front of the club. A driver got out and opened one of the many back doors and we hopped inside the back. The body guards were seated in the next compartment. There was a black screen like visor that separated the two areas.
It was like stepping into a palace. It must have seated at least 12-14 people, there was a wet bar with what looked like crystal glasses, a TV, and a stereo. It smelled like Heaven.
The seats were white leather and oh so soft. They reminded me of the leather butter cloud that I was on when I was underneath my rock star that day in Massachusetts. It seemed so long ago.
We put in a tape and it was one of the band’s new tapes. We drove around for about an hour as he pointed out the different sites and sounds of Las Vegas. It was after 3 am but the town was still wide awake.
We pulled into a hotel/casino, the driver opened our door and we hopped out. A crowd of people was out front and some were young girls. When they saw him, they went wild and ran up to him, autograph books and pens in hand. I could tell they had probably camped out there all night just to see a celebrity.
It turned out this was where he was staying and the girls found out and hung around. Sly dickie bird but I wasn’t headed upstairs with him just yet.
We walked into the bar which was still open and was lead to the back room.
A few girls trailed in behind us and asked to take his photo. One asked me to take it for her which I did. One was rude about it and practically pushed me aside then had the nerve to ask me to take their picture. I did. However, it was just of their feet. Little bitch!
We ordered some drinks and after a few minutes, the lead guitar player came rolling in with a chunky blonde on his arm. Staggering in would be more like it.
We settled into the private booth but no one bothered to introduce me to anyone.
The blonde was loud, rude and obnoxious and quite honestly scared me. She was covered in tattoos and looked like she would beat the shit out of anyone who looked at her the wrong way so to avoid confrontation, I never looked at her.
The guitarist was beyond trashed and kept trying to make out with his personal bimbo but she kept wanting to leave and after an hour, they left.
Finally it was just me and that rock star, his two bodyguards and a horde of girls peeking in through the glass doors that kept the room “private.”
“So, what’s your story, morning glory?” he asked, his arm now around my shoulders.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” he smiled.
I was quiet and commented on the décor.
“You didn’t answer me.”
“I don’t know, there’s really nothing to tell.”
He took a sip of his VO and Coke.
“Is Poppy your real name?” the ice was broken.
“Yeah, well, no, Elizabeth is but my family has always called me Poppy.”
“So, where is your family, here in Vegas?”
I told him some of the story but only what he needed to know and what I wanted him to know.
Some other people were let in through the glass doors, they all knew each other, shook hands and hugged, and I think I was introduced once then ignored by them but I can’t really remember.
It was almost dawn and I was exhausted. This guy had probably slept all day but I had been on my feet all night and there was no way in hell I was going to end up on my knees. I was tired and wanted to go home. Back to my motel home.
He noticed that I had gotten kinda quiet, half asleep is more like it. He was drunk but not wasted and he put his hand on the inside of my leg. It felt good.
I was wearing a short skirt and of course no panties.
As he talked to the others at the table, his hand began to slowly make its way up to my crotch. As soon as his thumb got almost to the honey hole, it slid back down. He did this for several minutes as he casually talked to his friends.
I was sitting pretty close to him by now and I was getting wetter by the minute. A few more inches up my leg and he was going to find out how wet.
I began to squirm a little and he then reached down like he was picking up a napkin or something off the floor, but instead, his hand caressed the rest of my leg. He just went on talking to them like nothing was up down there. I’m sure they knew him and most likely knew what he was up to (or down to) but at that point, I didn’t care. I just knew it felt so fucking good.
They finally left and we were all alone. The bodyguards were off at the bar after making sure he was okay and that I was not some ax murderer or something. He assured them he was fine and to go off and enjoy themselves.
The crowd at the glass door had gone away and we truly were all alone.
His hand still on my leg, he looked at me and went in for a kiss. As his lips met mine, he slide his hand up the few more inches it needed to find the money shot. I could feel his thumb enter me as we kissed.
When he realized I was commando down there, he leaned into my body even closer. He pulled my hand down onto his bulging cock. I rubbed it slowly through the denim.
His lips were soft like a woman’s and his breath was a mixture of VO, Coke and peppermint.
His tongue snaked its way in between my full lips, found mine and began making love to it right there in my mouth. He gently bit my lip and began sucking on my lower half. He could feel me getting wetter and he reclined me down on the cool vinyl seat.
The seats were big enough to accommodate him and he got up on his knees and gently lifted my skirt exposing my wet, shaved pussy.
His hands began to gently massage the area on both sides of it and with the back of his hand, he stroked it like it was a lost kitten. It was indeed a pussy in need of a home.
He then reached down, put his hands on my thighs, and began to gently lick me. His tongue made its way to my clit and darting back and forth, he teased it into submission. His thumbs were put to good use and he used them to part my wet pussy lips so his tongue could glide its way inside me.
I looked over and could see a couple of the waiters watching us through the glass doors. One of them was rubbing his own dick.
I then threw my head back and he reached up for my tits and after several moments, I was ready to come and I held on to that dirty red bandana as I exploded.
He groaned his approval and then with the intensity of an animal, he bent down and kissed me. The sweetness of my own love juice filled my mouth and my nostrils.
He laid on top of me, fully clothed and kissed me like a man in love. There was that word again but I had no love for this man. I just wanted to fuck a rock star. However, as it turned out tonight, a rock star wanted to fuck me.
We ended up back in the limo, he asked where to drop me off, I told him the truth, and he dropped me off back at the club.
“You know, I’m gonna be in town for the next two weeks and then I’m headed back to LA.”
“LA? You mean Los Angeles?”
“Yeah,” he laughed.
I got quiet. Keep it together Poppy! Don’t blow it now.
“You wanna hang out?” he said, “I mean I can pick you up if you don’t have a car, it’s no problem. I have a rental here while I’m in town.”
“Okay,” I said, “I’m off tomorrow and the next day.”
He dropped me off at the motel, no kiss, no nothing, just a “catch ya later.”
That Rock Star
I didn’t really expect to hear from him the next day but he pulled up in a black Mercedes and we were off.
In the light of day, he was kinda ugly/sexy but he seemed cool. We spent the day bopping around Vegas and he showed me the sights. We ended the day at a Siegfried and Roy show. I think I saw Cher in the audience but I wasn’t sure. It
looked like her though.
All in all a pretty normal “date” but no sex. We made out a little in the Mercedes but nothing as hot as the night before. He didn’t even try anything. Maybe the girls at the club were right, maybe he was some kind of a freak.
The next two weeks were a whirlwind and went by quickly. He was at the club every night after I got off and I wanted to get off with him but for some reason, that wasn’t happening.
By now, everyone at the club knew that I had been spending time with “that rock star” and that he was a regular there now.
Still no sex.
I found out much later that he had contracted an STD from a stripper and couldn’t have sex for a while. Nice.
I still didn’t know what his big gun in his pants looked like but I had a feeling that behind those black leather pants was something wonderful just waiting to get out.
However, after two weeks, I didn’t think I was going to get that chance when he surprised me by asking me to come to LA with him.
“Wow,” I said, flattered, “I mean, I…I just can’t up and quit my job like that you know, Gerri relies on me.”
He smirked, “No offense but I think she can get another waitress. Besides, I’ve already talked to her about it and she was cool with it. In fact she was happy for you.”
I wasn’t sure if I believed him or not but found out later that he had given her $5,000 to cover the two weeks’ notice that I was not giving her. Of course she was cool about it.
I thought what the hell. I need to get to LA, I want to fuck a rock star, I am a groupie and this is what we all want. So LA, here I come.
It was my first time on an airplane but was assured the flight would not be long since we were not that far from Los Angeles.
When we touched down, a limo was waiting for us and we were escorted in the back. The car didn’t look much different than the one from the other night, just smaller, and I thought to myself, I could get used to this way of living.
We were taken to a ritzy part of Los Angles and the car entered a large gated community. We pulled up in front of a house that looked more like an entire town. I have never in my life seen a house so big.
Lick and a Promise-Diary of a Rock Star Groupie (Rock Star Series Book 1) Page 10
