Lick and a Promise-Diary of a Rock Star Groupie (Rock Star Series Book 1)

by Veronica Moreau

  The lead singer was eating it up and loving every minute of it! She’s still talking a mile a minute when he looked at us with his big Cheshire grin and said, “Eh whew baby, backstage loving sets my pants on fire! Yeow…!!!”

  He was a complete and utter nut!

  He was looking at us giggling then back at her and suddenly he grabbed her and planted a big, wet, sloppy kiss on her with his big full lips. She practically attacked him and he fell down on top of her, pulled down his pants and begun fucking her right there in front of us.

  My rock star took me by the arm, “Come on, he’s fucking wasted,” and walked me out of the room.

  “Sorry about that, he’s…I don’t know…he’s just…that’s just who he is.” He seemed really embarrassed.

  I just shook my head and laughed.

  While we were standing there, the door opened and the girl ran out giggling and straightening her already lopsided top.

  The lead singer emerged zipping up his pants and said, “Hey, the only way I could shut her up was by putting a dick in her mouth! Might as well be mine!”

  Backstage Boogie

  Back in the dressing room with the rest of the band, I was nervous about the scene that would no doubt play out when that other rock star knew that I was there…with him.

  My rock star was sitting in a large wingback chair and I was sitting comfortably on the arm. His arm was around my backside. The other women were pretty cool to me and it was a good feeling for me that we were all getting to know each other.

  The feel was different with this band. With the other group, there was a low down dirty feel to the men, a cheapness to the women…looking back now, it was just gross.

  This band was more famous, had more money and a hell of a lot better clothes. Their girls were classier too. The whole band seemed old style rich and they reminded me of velvet.

  Suddenly there was a knock on the door and the drummer got up to answer it.

  “Uh, is Poppy here?” came the voice of Cash, the lead guitarist from the other band.

  My body tensed and I braced myself for the worst.

  The drummer looked back at me and my rock star got up to see who it was and when he saw Cash and Dizzy, the other guitar player standing there, he said, “What do you want?”

  “Hey man,” Cash said, “we don’t want any trouble and we didn’t come here for that, okay it’s all cool. Is she here or not?”

  He looked back at me, I nodded okay, and he opened up the door to reveal my presence in the room.

  The two guys walked in carrying my never know bag.

  “Hey, listen we’re sorry about how things went down and he told us to bring you your shit. He said to tell you, how did he put it,” he brushed the black curls out of his face. “Oh yeah, um he said, ‘you can go out the door with whatever you came in with, nothing more, nothing less’, yeah that’s what he said,” and handed me my bag.

  “Is that it?” said my rock star.

  “No man, I just wanted to say I was sorry for how Roxy treated you. She shouldn’t have done that. She’s really a good girl but grew up bad and you know, anyway, just wanted to tell you that, okay?”

  “Yeah, sorry,” Dizzy chimed in.

  “Okay, we good?” my rock star said as he shut the door behind them. “Assholes!”

  He had still not heard back from his attorney and I was anxious to see how quick of an annulment I could get. The marriage was less than a week old and I certainly had grounds for divorce…and murder.

  It was time for them to go onstage and my rock star left one of the bodyguards backstage with me. Remember big boy from the hotel in Boston, the black security guard? Thank God, he didn’t recognize me and probably thought I was just another slut groupie.

  Once alone, he leaned in to me and said, “Glad to have you back. He missed you.”

  Swinging around, I said, “What?”

  “You heard me,” he winked. Maybe he wasn’t an asshole rapist but I still wasn’t interested in his chocolate bar.

  I just smiled to myself.

  The other girls went up behind the stage but came back down after a few minutes. “Too loud for me,” said one. “I don’t know how they can be so close to those amplifiers and not go deaf. Bruno get me a coke will ya?”

  “Sorry, I have my instructions not to leave Poppy. You know where the coke machine is. Do you need a quarter?”

  She looked at me and smiled, “Must be nice to get special treatment your highness!” We all laughed.

  The band played for a two hour set, I could hear the crowd screaming for more, and it seemed like the whole arena was rocking back and forth from the foot stomping.

  They played two more songs then they came backstage soaking wet from sweat, adrenaline and I hoped in my rock star’s case, some pent up sexual stuff going on down there since this morning.

  I couldn’t wait to get him between my legs again. I was getting wet just thinking about it.

  However, that would have to wait…for now…there was an after party that the lead singer practically begged him to go to and my rock star promised that we would only stay for a little while.

  It was being held at a swanky new club that had just opened and word spread fast that the band was in town.

  Since retrieving my never know bag, I had my makeup and a fresh pair of clothes to put on so I didn’t feel like such a rag-a-muffin.

  I had had some of the coolest rock star rags when I lived with that other rock star but that all went away and I was glad.

  It was just us, the lead singer and some blonde chick with fake boobs, riding along with us. Where the hell did she come from? I didn’t see her backstage.

  I didn’t care who she was, she had some coke with her and she was willing to share, that was all I cared about it. It was good shit too and gave me a running buzz but I needed something else that she didn’t have in her little black bag.

  Women flocked to the lead singer like bees to honey. He did have a certain something about him but the only thing about him that I was interested in was his clothes!

  Oh God, please let me see inside his closet! Let me touch everything in there and wear every outfit only once!

  The limo pulled up in front of the club and we were immediately swamped by fans. Most were speaking English but some were calling out to them with the cutest French accents.

  Inside the club, the lights were dim and an excitement washed over the crowd as we entered. I felt like I was on a cloud, a butter cloud, I was so happy and proud to be with him. I was in heaven.

  However, inside I felt like I was in hell. I needed a fix and I needed it now. I know my rock star could tell I was on the edge of a real bad scene. Hopefully, I would get some relief inside.

  We were led to the VIP room in the back and as we passed I saw the likes of Mick Jagger, Keith Richards and Cher. This time, it really was her. She was not with the guys from the Stones though but she was there.

  There was a large table in front of us and the four of us sat down and within minutes, we were surrounded by other VIP’s who seemed to know the guys.

  I didn’t recognize any of these big wigs but was told later that they were in the record business so they were invited to join us.

  I was getting kinda antsy in a cool, sexy way and I wanted to get high then get low. Food and screwed.

  My rock star sensed my dilemma since he was having one of his own so we made our way back to the bathroom.

  The tiles were black and white and the whole place smelled like cheap cologne but I didn’t care at that moment.

  “You need a little something Baby,” he said as he locked the door behind us.

  I nodded innocently.

  My heart was pounding wildly as he slowly unzipped his black leather pants and his already stiffening cock came into view.

  I licked my lips and lowered myself down onto my knees.

  Looking up at him, he gently caressed my hair and pushed it off of my shoulders.

  Even in the m
idst of passion, comes a quiet moment. I looked into his eyes and see trust there and joy.

  I slowly released his bulging cock.

  There was a chair in the corner and as he sat down, his cock was practically standing at full attention and pointing right at me.

  What’s a girl to do?

  I slowly undid the button on his leather pants and gently glided them down around his ankles.

  He moaned his approval.

  Taking his large shaft in my hand, I slowly licked one side of his cock, then the other, going around the base with my tongue. Up…and down…up and down…and with each trail of wetness, I would gently breathe a warm breathe onto his hard organ.

  Slowly taking the tip of the head into my waiting mouth, I go down just a bit then come back up then go farther, then back up then go down…even farther…I repeat this until the entire cock is in my mouth. I slowly come back up leaving just a slight trail of saliva and gently massage his balls with my tongue. I tenderly suck on them as I stroke the base of his shaft with my love lube.

  He suddenly guided me back to my feet and undid the button on my jeans. Rubbing a finger along the top of the bell bottoms, he slowly unzipped them to reveal my shaved pussy, his shaved pussy.

  He pulled me close and slid me down onto his lap. With my feet touching the floor, I rotated my hips and teased his large erection with my clit.

  He moaned wildly and began kissing me as he massaged my breasts.

  Gently lifting me, he glided his cock inside me. Already wet, I gave him the cowboy ride of his life.

  Holding my ass as I bounced on top of him, he thrust his cock so far inside me I could almost taste it again.

  When he came, he pulled me close to his chest and his breath blew my hair back as I exploded onto his still stiffened cock.

  Gently pulling back, he looked at me and with that crooked smile, he said, “God girl, I could get used to you.”

  Unchained but Still a Prisoner

  The next morning, while we still back in bed at the hotel, an early morning call came in from his attorney. He apologized for the delay in calling but he was out of town and just got back in the night before last.

  It seems that when I wasn’t looking, my rock star gave him all the details of my sordid little affair and the guy had his private investigator check out the scene for me

  He was put on speaker phone.

  “Are you there?” he said in a haze of fog and static.

  “I’m here,” he said in his thick Boston accent. “We both are, I have you on speaker, so what’d ya find out?”

  “Well,” the attorney hesitated, “you were on the level with me right?”

  My rock star looked at me puzzled, “What do ya mean?”

  “I did some investigating and found there was never any marriage that took place at that church you gave me, not a legal one anyway. It seems the two lovebirds never got a Nevada marriage license for one thing.”

  “Is that right?” he looked back at me.

  I just shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. We were so wasted that day, I barely remember much about it. Who the hell knows?

  “On top of that, we tracked down the so called minister who married them and he’s not even a minister. He works as a two bit Elvis impersonator at one of the clubs on the strip. The two witnesses didn’t pan out either. Seems the singer paid the poor schmuck to perform a bogus ceremony. In other words, it wasn’t legal and your little lady ain’t married.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears!

  “Okay, thanks man,” he said as he hung up the phone. “That dirty mother fucker! That punk! Putting you through this kind of shit just to hurt you and to get back to me. What a piece of bi-polar shit!”

  I didn’t like that he was angry but I liked that he was angry for me.

  He just sat there shaking his head. I put my hand on his arm and he finally calmed down.

  “You okay?” he said sweetly.

  I nodded, “I am now.”

  “Eh, sorry about that, I just can’t stand that fucking guy! Well, at least that’s over with. You weren’t even married to the asshole, imagine that.”

  At that moment, I felt like a ton of bricks had been lifted off my back. I only wished that that ton of bricks had killed that fucking monkey that lived there. I knew I was going down, I was sliding, God please let me have the strength to get clean.

  Once the Canadian leg of the tour was over, we were headed back into the states to the Tacoma Dome in Washington. We were also going to meet up with Phil, the drug counselor.

  He was hired to join the tour and try to keep the guys straight until the tour was over and the doors of rehab would open up for them.

  We still had 39 more cities to go till it was all over, the tour I mean, and it scared me to think of what was going to happen once he was clean.

  Was it just the drugs that cared about me? Was it really him? I was thinking in my groupie mode of not believing that any of this was real, not real in any way. However, there came a time when I wanted to believe it, had to believe it.

  After Washington, they played the Memorial Coliseum in Portland, Oakland Stadium in California, Long Beach Arena, Grand Western Forum, back in LA, Sports Arena in San Diego (beautiful city) and then it was on to Salt Lake City to perform at the Salt Palace.

  I thought about my Aunt Sylvia and wondered if she single handedly saved the Mormon Church by arriving when she did. Maybe she was singing alto in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Maybe she was…who cares! As long as I wasn’t still in the car with her.

  When we pulled into Salt Lake, my rock star joked, “Ya wanna call your aunt?”

  I just looked at him and said, “Hush up!” That made him laugh.

  We got along and had a quiet easiness about us like we had been best friends for a long time. The sex was through the roof amazing and although Phil was hot on his tail and keeping an eye on his drug use, we still snuck a bump of coke or a bag of stash into our room and we got high then we got low. I was in Heaven every night.

  However, inside I was in hell. Strung out, shaking, rail thin, sick man, just junkie sick. I couldn’t admit I had a problem until one night, I was confronted with it head on.

  My rock star had just come from a meeting with Phil. I say a meeting but it was really more like a one on one with the band and he just kind of counseled them and tried to help them keep their shit together while on tour. We still had a long way to go and there was a lot of dope between here and our last stop, Pittsburgh. Then it was on to a group related rehab in Arizona.

  The lead singer was the worse on the stuff and then my rock star. The other guys weren’t too bad but admitted they like to drink a little too much and they cheat on their wives.

  I knew things were getting bad. I don’t mean us, as a couple, there I said it, were a couple now…I mean with the band, the drugs, everything…I also knew that I was a part of this band of gypsies just like the other girls although they didn’t have the problem that I did.

  He walked in after his talk with Phil and said, “Hey Babe, I got some news.”

  I braced myself fearing the worse.

  However, his words didn’t have a break up tone to them. They had a, hey Babe, I got some news tone to them so I listened.

  He was quiet and said, “Listen, the tour is winding down soon and Gooch is really putting the pressure on the band to go into rehab. It’s do or die man, do or die.”

  I knew this.

  Gooch was the band manager and although a slimy eel piece of carney shit, he did pluck the guys from obscurity and turn them into the mega rock stars they were today. So if Gooch said rehab, then it was rehab.

  Taking my hand, he said, “Go with me…”

  I don’t know if I laughed out loud or inside my own head, I was so out of it, but I knew I had laughed somewhere.

  Rehab? For me? I didn’t need any stinkin’ rehab. I was stronger than the drugs, I could beat it without rehabilitation.

  He might, she might, they mig
ht…they all might need to go to rehab but I sure as hell didn’t.

  I just looked at him and slurred a wispy “What are you saying Baby?” I then shook my head which didn‘t stop shaking when I wanted it to. I could barely see straight.

  He slowly let go of my hand.

  “You know,” he continued, “when I get out, I’m gonna be different. I mean Poppy, I’m fucked up man, I need help. You need help. Not only are we killing the band, we are killing ourselves, each other…us.”

  He said us.

  I just stood there watching the tender words flow out of his godlike mouth. I watched them like a trail of tiny butterflies. I must have looked like a fucking zombie at that point.

  “I’m not gonna be able to be around all this,” he said as he looked around the room. “I am not gonna be able to be around…” he hesitated… “you.”

  “What?” I slurred. “Whatta you mean? What are you saying? You’re a fucking rock star Baby, you need me.”

  I reached out to him as he gently pulled away.

  “I do need you, but not unless you get help too. Once I’m clean, I don’t want to go back to being dirty again. Ya know what I’m saying?”

  The coke was making me aggressive and paranoid.

  “What, I’m dirty now? Is that what you’re saying? You’re dirty little groupie whore is not good enough for you now?”

  Sighing, he said, “Poppy no…”

  That’s not what he meant, I knew it, I know it now, but the drugs were doing all the talking for me.

  Phil was getting to him and although he pretended to like me to my face, he secretly wanted me away from my rock star, all the rock stars. I was bad news and a junkie has no place in a clean backstage.

  We were still far away from the last stop on the tour and I think we just had our first official fight.

  He hugged me after our words and I was crying and creating a lot of drug drama. He wanted to be clean and wanted me clean with him, he was practically begging me to join him in rehab. Make a fresh start, he said, we could both be in a good place…but I couldn’t hear any of that. My head was ringing from so many pills, tokes, bumps, hits, blows, trips, rigs…I was toast man and the toaster had already been turned up to high for too long.