BACKSTAGE WITH THE LIVING SLUDGE
by Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
It took me two hours, but I made it backstage on the last night of The Living Sludge's performance at Howell's.
I had been to see The Living Sludge several times. Mostly, I watched Toby Jefferson on the guitar with his black leather pants and vest and studded leather armband around one muscled arm, his hair as black as his clothes, swinging his guitar like it was attached to his groin. Also, there was Jim, his brother, who played bass guitar and always had on the same faded blue jeans and black T-shirt with obscured white lettering on it I tentatively decided used to be the Anarchy logo, and kept his hair tied back into a ponytail. Black Wilson (his real name) who had his sleeveless denim shirt, whose deep ebony skin barely contained his massive arms, and who banged the drums with an elemental, primal fury born straight out of the Congo. His hair was as long as the Jefferson brothers, but he kept it dreadlocked. Finally, there was Wiley, their lead singer, a thin, pale, dirty-blond-haired guy with silver earrings, nosering and rings God knew where else, all hidden under a white T-shirt and ragged black denim pants.
Their music was bitching and their antics on stage enough to drive a young boy like me with unfulfilled longings for cock absolutely crazy. Wiley, at the musical interlude to "Strange Bedfellows", would make a sliding dive onto his knees and wind up between Toby's legs. Toby would lift his guitar over Wiley's head, pull Wiley's face down onto his crotch and keep on playing. Wiley would get up after ten seconds, wipe his lips like he was wiping the loose drips of jism from them, and get back to the mike in time for the last verse. Then Toby and Jim would turn toward each other, hike their guitars up to their chests, and play with their knees between each other's crotches, their flies almost touching as they swayed back and forth, almost grinding their cocks together, almost....
So here I was, determined to get some very personal mementos of them, especially Toby, who had played his guitar in my every dream for weeks. The back area was deserted and I couldn't believe my luck. I sneaked over to their dressing rooms and tried the door. Unlocked! I was inside, my heart pounding. Luck was with me still, their suitcases lay here and there around the room, stuffed with clothes in chaotic disarray, unwashed for certain. But which one was which? I opened one to find a black-plastic hairpick, that had to be Black Wilson's. I pulled out a pair of white boxers and stuffed it under my football varsity jacket. Then on to the next, a duffel bag, the clothes inside sheer punk. Wiley's, for sure. I lifted out a jockstrap with a brownish color to it and a few pale hairs imbedded in the fabric. It went inside my jacket with the boxers, and on to the last suitcase on the couch, so big it had to belong to the Jefferson brothers. I lifted it and sifted through the clothing. How to tell which one was Toby's and which were Jim's? I pulled out two briefs of different styles, and sniffed one, then the other. A differing odor, perhaps. Do people have different body smells? I sniffed again....
And that was when the door opened and The Living Sludge walked in on me. They goggled at me, a pair of their dirty briefs in each hand, one under my nose, and if that wasn't bad enough, Wilson's boxers chose that moment to slide from under my jacket and fall on my sneakers.
"What the hell do we have here?" Jim said.
"Looking for souvenirs, mate?" Wiley said with his strong Aussie accent. "Want us to autograph them for you?"
"Let's beat the shit out of him." Wilson said. I was glad he was the last one in line.
"Now, guys, don't insult our biggest fan." Toby said. I smiled at him, you could tell from looking at him that he was the nicest guy in the world. "With our act, we got to expect a bit of things like this. Maybe we should hire a bodyguard. Toby turned around. "Why don't you guys go put our equipment in the van now, while I have a little talk with this one?" he suggested.
They agreed and went back out again, leaving me alone with Toby. He smiled and walked over. "Were you collecting some souvenirs, something to remember us by?" I nodded. "I can understand that." Toby said. He looked at the briefs still clutched in my hands. "Trying to tell them apart?"
"Yeah." I said, gaining courage from his casual handling of this. "I wanted one from each of you. But which one is yours?" He smiled and pointed to the one in my right hand, the one I had been sniffing when they walked in. "That one. Sharing a suitcase, we tell which is which by the brand. I wear Jockey's, Jim wears Calvin Kleins."
I lifted it to my face and smelled it, learning Toby's odor, then jumped as I realized what I was doing. "I'm sorry." I said and dropped them. I tugged Wiley's briefs from under my jacket and threw them on the floor, too. "I should just get out of here."
"What's your hurry?" Toby said. "We don't mind parting with a pair for one of our biggest fans. I recognized you in the audience. Up front every Tuesday night, right?" I nodded again, afraid to speak now for fear of shattering this fantasy. "But that pair's clean. Wouldn't you rather have a dirty pair if you like my smell?"
"Sure." I gasped out.
"Well, what about the ones I have on right now?" Toby said, smiling, and he unzipped his leather pants, revealing a white triangle. "Wouldn't you like these instead?"
"Yeah." I moaned. "Please, can I have them? Please?"
Toby smiled broader. "Sure, kid. Want to get a whiff of them right now, while they're still on me?" And he pulled his leather pants down to mid-thigh. I just fell at Toby's feet the way Wiley did and buried my face in his crotch, gnawing at his basket. I felt the hot staff of his manhood under the cloth, growing, hard as steel under velvet flesh, warmth that radiated onto my face, and I drank in the heat and the musky smell of his crotch scented with leather.
"That's it, kid, get a good taste of it." Toby panted. "You want some of the real thing, now?" And he tugged at his Jockey's, to free his cock. It was nine inches long, thick, uncut, and I dove onto it and sucked it for all I was worth. Toby grabbed me by my head, wove his fingers into my own short-cut hair, and fucked my face, using me for his pleasure, and I took all of it without choking, I wanted it all down me so bad.
"Yeah, wet it down real good, kid." Toby whispered huskily to me. "Get it good and slick and I'll fuck your sweet young ass for you. If you want that, suck me harder, kid, harder!" I sucked him even harder, then, and he gasped, "Yeah, you want my dick. I saw you watching me play my guitar every night like you wanted to be that guitar. Well, that ought to do it, you get up here, pull down those chinos and turn around.
I did as he ordered and bent over. I felt his hard spit-slimy manhood poking my ass and I groaned.
"Damn, kid, you giving me your cherry?"
"Yeah, Toby, take it." I groaned. "It's all yours, man, all for you."
"Yeah!" Toby slavered and he rammed into me, hard.
It hurt like hell and I stifled a scream, "A-g-g-gh!"
"Oh, yeah, good cherry, man, good cherry ass." Toby said and pushed into me some more. "One more push ought to finish you. Unh!" And he did, I felt his balls slap my ass. "Oh, man, get used to it quick, kid, my band will be back any minute. Or do you want to take us all on?"
"Sure." I slobbered. "All of you, please. But you're the first and I want you to be last, too."
"Okay, kid." Toby wiggled and I felt something turn loose inside me. "That's loosened you up. Time for your first fucking, courtesy of The Living Sludge's lead guitar." He began to hump my butt, and I just groaned, turned my head so I could watch him fuck me in the lighted mirrors. I watched his lithe body moving as if to a dance, his whole frame rippled as he made each thrust, his hands reached for my hips and he grabbed hold, shifted to higher amp, fucking my ass. I was being fucked by Toby of The Living Sludge! Toby was flushed, Toby was moaning, Toby was...there! His hot creme shot into my ass as he moaned and clutched me, falling over to support himself on my back while his jism filled my ass.
"What is this?" came Wiley's voice from the door. "Come up with your own punishment for our little burglar?"
Toby didn't flinch, didn't pull out of me; his cock was still rock-hard. "Don't be jealous, love." he said.
"Oh, I'm not." Wiley assured him. "Just envious. Is this song a duet, or can I sit in on the gig?"
"Get over here and try out his mouth." Toby said. "He's a virgin but he's very, very eager." "Best kind." Wiley said and walked over. I wasn't that crazy about Wiley, but he was part of The Living Sludge and I wanted him for that reason, anyway. So when he pulled out his thin, white dong, about five inches long and not too clean, I took it on with enthusiasm. A few strokes had the worst of the funk off of it, and then it slid in and out of my mouth with no problem.
"What the hey?" Jim said. I guess the band was finished packing their equipment.
"Come on over, Jim, and join the fun." Wiley said. "Plenty of room on this virgin fan for everyone."
Jim walked over and surprised me (I still could follow everything by the mirror) by grabbing his brother from behind and playing with his huge nipples. "Can I do him next, big brother?" Jim crooned.
"Hey, what about me?" Wiley protested.
"Why don't you take him after Jim?"
Wiley pouted and he said, "All right, then. But you'd better hurry up. I'm raring to go."
Toby stepped aside and Jim spat on his cock and rubbed it, spat again. When he had it lubed up somewhat, he aimed it at my ass. Smaller than his brother both in length and girth by about an inch each way, it was no trouble for me to take him that way. I sucked Wiley's cock, but concentrated more on Jim's plugging my ass. First one Jefferson brother, then the other. And Toby promised me seconds later, after I finished with Wiley and Black Wilson.
"Fuck him, little brother." Toby cheered his brother, and I could tell they were close. I wondered if they wiled away their time on the road by fucking each other. It would fit their on-stage routine. Jim humped me hard and fast, a good imitation of his brother, and I was more sure than ever that their lovemaking was all in the family.
Wiley meanwhile had all the services my mouth could provide, and he began to pant. "You want my come in your mouth, little fan-boy?" he puffed out. "Better there than that gaping hole of your ass after after the Jefferson boys finish with you! I just hope they got you prepared for Big Black Wilson. I can just see Wilson's foot-long dong sliding into your pretty preppie boy butt, oh, man-n-n..." he began to groan, and soon salty jism was spurting into my mouth with a surprising power to it. It hit my tonsils, splashed the back of my mouth, and poured down my throat. Wiley hunched me with spastic motions, and the last of it, his cock jerking out of my mouth, squirted my jacket, hitting the big white football with an audible splatting sound. Wiley clutched my head and slapped his cock against my face, smearing me with my saliva and the last remnants of his sperm. "That should hold you, pretty boy." Wiley sneered. "Until Black Wilson gets here."
The door opened and Black Wilson stepped in. "I thought you were going to get Toby to help me with my drums." he said before he noticed our appearance.
"Black Wilson." Wiley gushed almost effiminately. "Come on in. We been saving this one for you."
"Leaving me leftovers is more like it." Black Wilson said, hitching at his jeans, unbuttoning them. "Think this pretty white boy can take it?"
"I'm sure he'd die trying." Wiley assured him.
"You didn't manage it so well." Wilson reminded him, and that wiped the smile off his face. I liked the big black guy right then and there, despite the appearance of his cock. Just as big as Wiley had said, and thick, it was the size of my lower arm. I didn't see how anyone could take that monster. "Why don't you guys go load my drums while I finish up in here?"
"Toby?" I said, panicked. "I promised the kid a second go." Toby said. "You can have him when I'm done." Wilson said. "I don't play this for an audience."
Toby looked at me, helpless, and left. Wilson turned to me and said, "Now that they're gone, I'll settle for your lips. No pussy can handle it, and your little ass isn't even that big. So start by licking on it like it was a big, fat Fudgesicle." He grinned, and so did I.
I knelt down as he sat on the couch and began to work the big cock, and it pulsed under my tongue as I worked it over with big strokes just like he'd said. When I'd done that, Wilson coached me, "Now, just take the head of it into your mouth. See if you can fit that in before we try for any more."
I did as he said, and his cockhead wasn't so bad, like sticking a big plum into my mouth. I worked it over until it was a wet ball on my tongue and Wilson said, "Now get to working what you can of the rest of it."
I managed pretty well, about four inches total, I'd guess. That's where his cockhead would hit my throat and stop. Even a sword-swallower couldn't have handled this monster. But that was enough, Wilson was used to this and he settled in while I worked his foreskin back and forth over that big, plump head. He lay there and moaned gently, sounding like a warm African breeze on the Serengeti. Listening to it, you could see the lions and gazelles, moving in an eternal rhythm, and the sound grew until, my eyes closed, it became all my world, the sound and Wilson's cock sliding over my tongue and across my lips. The breeze became a wind, the wind a gale, and Wilson grabbed my head and moaned, "Here it comes, white boy!" and his load filled my mouth, not in a gusher, but a warm outpouring of his seed onto my tongue where it landed, nestled into my mouth, pooled under my tongue, filled my mouth completely.
A knock at the door when he was done. Wilson smiled. "Toby's real eager. Must think you're sweet." He raised his voice. "Come on in, Toby. He's all yours now."
Toby entered, and I saw a nervous look on his face that evaporated when he saw our position. "First and last." he said to me. "Mind joining the others outside?" To Wilson.
"Have fun." Wilson got up and left while still tucking his cock back into his jeans.
Toby walked over and pulled me up to lay on the couch, lay on top of me. He kissed me, then, long and sweet, and I moaned with the pleasure of his kiss. My own erection, denied so long, jabbed him and he said, smiling, "Better tame that creature of yours."
"It's got a mind of its own." I said.
"Then I'd better try taming it." Toby said. I didn't dare believe it, but Toby scooted down to my crotch, regarded my pink penis like some errant dog. "There you are, you wild thing." Toby crooned. And he took my cock into his mouth and sucked me. The warmth was so sudden, so unexpected, so desired, that I lasted no time. Ten seconds from his first engulfing my cock, I was groaning a warning, but Toby didn't let go. He sucked down my jism like he'd done it all his life and when I was finished, gasping, sweating, eyes glazed looking at him uncomprehendingly, he said, "Ready for that second fuck?" he said. He sat on my chest while I wetted him down, then lay on top of me again and slid his cock into my ass like an old friend. He took his time, it was thirty minutes or so before we got up, sated, and went out to meet the rest of the band.
The Living Sludge is splitting up at the end of this tour. None of my doing, it was just time for them to go their separate ways. Wiley is heading back for Darwin. But for Toby, his way will be to my apartment, where Jim and Black Wilson will visit from time to time, and we'll play our own music as much as we want to.
Comments, Complaints or Suggestions?
E-Mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM