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Glam Rock, Garters and Cocks
The glam rock days, for me, and my friends, was all about experimentation. We experimented with sex, gender identity, drugs and role play. We had gone to a concert in a town much bigger than our own. Bowie was the main act, I forget exactly who opened. My friends Bobby and Randy were in drag, my friend Fisk and myself were in bell bottoms, glittery shirts, and the requisite platform shoes. We had a big time, enjoyed the company of other glam rockers and cross-dressers, and more than a few drugs. On the way home, all of us were too wasted to drive, so, we stopped in a fleabag motel for the rest of the night. Fisk and Randy had been bickering all night, and it had them in foul moods. The "girls" as we called Randy and Bobby, were wearing actual high heels, so, everybody's feet were killing them. I took off mine, and felt so good, I stripped down to my bikini briefs. Fisk stomped around, slugging beer, and getting meaner by the minute. I rolled him a joint and told him to go in the bathroom, smoke, and look at himself in the mirror. He gave me a scowl, but, took off his shoes, and retired to the toilet.
The girls had begun undressing, slowly. I wasn't surprised to see them wearing women's underthings, they were serious about their cross-dressing, but the stockings and garters surprised me a little. They had removed all body hair, except their pubes, of which they both had dark and profuse growth. Randy had a decent sized cock, which I had sucked and allowed into my ass on previous occasions. I figured he would be my bed partner in one of the lumpy double beds. Bobby unsnapped his stockings, and pulled them from his long legs, then, pulled his dress off. He turned away from us, messing with his granny panties, and peeled them off. When he turned around, his cock stood out, HUGE. I knew he had a big one, I had physical education classes with him in middle and high school. I had never had the pleasure of fondling or sucking him. Randy admired it, as I did, even stroked it a few times before he went back to removing his makeup. Bobby did the same. I rolled us a joint. I heard Fisk coughing in the toilet, then, heard the shower turn on. I lit the joint and hit it, holding it to the painted lips of each girl. I rubbed their hairless asses, and stroked semi-hards, Bobby's filling my hand. My own cock tented my briefs, making Randy request that I take them off. I did, and he stroked me as I stroked he and Bobby. Fisk came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Physically, he was the best specimen among us. Long and lanky, but, muscular, six pack abs before they were even a thing. He looked at all the erections and asked, "What is this ? Dicks on parade ? " We giggled the giggles of the stoned and asked him to join us. He whipped off the towel, and sat on one of the beds, stroking his dick. Next to Bobby, he had the longest, but, it was narrow, not bigger around than a man's thumb. He was a strawberry blonde and had ginger pubes. He got hard pretty quick and announced, " I wanna ride some ass ! "
Randy gave him a withering look, I wagged my eyebrows, and Bobby said, "Okay with me ! " He wiped off the last of his warpaint, and got a tube of some sort of lubricant ( I don't remember it being KY but it might have been ) . He swabbed it around his anus, and handed it to Fisk who slathered it on his erection. Bobby got on all fours on the end of the bed, and Fisk positioned behind him and eased it in. Once in, however, he began pounding Bobby HARD ! Bobby cried out and moaned but allowed it, even encouraged "HARDER !" Randy and I got under Bobby and took turns sucking his swaying monster cock.
The rest of the night was musical beds. I got fucked by Randy and Fisk at two different times. I sucked Bobby's monster dick, finally coaxing a salvo of hot, sticky jizz out of him, in a messy torrent. I even fucked Fisk, with the other two looking on. Only Randy and Fisk never interacted. A real couple of bitches. Fisk fucked Bobby again, this time pulling out and aiming his red rod at the mirror eight feet away, and hitting it with his spurting load. I was impressed, the other two, completely oblivious. We bedded down and slept, maybe, two hours. We took some back beauties ( amphetamines ) and quaffed coffee and bearclaws for breakfast before heading out.
The speed had a bad effect on Fisk. He got more uptight than ever, had a guilt complex about the male-on-male sex, all the drugs, especially the speed. So, he ranted and raved until Randy sighed and told him to "Shut the fuck up, pencil dick ! " and punches were thrown in anger. I had to pull over and straighten them out. They vowed to never be in each other's presence ever again, and it was a promise they kept.
Within a year, Bobby had moved away to Miami. Randy had a girlfriend, a pleasantly plump babe named Candy. I had a few threesomes with them, and they eventually moved back to the Midwest. I missed them, badly. Fisk, who had been my friend the longest, continued to go through a series of changes. He cut off all his hair, began listening to country music, which, back in those days was REALLY country, not the '80's music with idiot lyrics that they try to pass off today, began building race cars with rednecks, and worst of all, began riding as an auxiliary deputy with the sheriff's department. I was still a dopehead, and began seeing him less and less, but, when I did, he would give me ominous warnings of how my name was on a list of drug offenders, and they were closing in on me. I was never a dealer, and was mostly guilty of possessing small amounts of marijuana. At some point, he proved not worthy of the sheriff's department, and broke from that and went to work as a stock clerk, working graveyard at a grocery store. He invited me to a party at his parent's lake house. I brought a girl I'd been dating. Out of the fifteen or so people there, only my date and one other girl were the only females there. The other woman wasn't the least bit friendly. Fisk asked me at least six times if I had any dope. I had purposely left what little bit of weed I had at home. But, he kept asking me, once out loud in front of his new best friend, a kid six years his junior. Tired of this, I balked and turned it on him, "What is it, Fisk ? Do you want some dope ? Are you jonesing for some shit ? " He looked at me disapprovingly and began, "You know I don't..." and I cut him off, "Then WHY do you keep asking me ? I don't have any ! Quit asking ! " He frowned and moved away. A little later his new bestie slid up to me and my date and remarked, " I always took you for queer. What are you doing with this fine thing ? " he asked, leering, looking my date up and down. I threw my drink in his face and pushed him off the dock into the lake. He surfaced, sputtering and cursing, and I said, "Well, that shit floats, " and we left.
In the car my date asked me, "You want a valium ? " Why, yes, glad you asked. Later she tried on the new garters and fishnet stockings I'd bought her. Man, they looked good on her, maybe even better than on Bobby and Randy. Yes, definitely, better !
This story totally makes sense. I'm female and grew up in the late 70's-early 80's. Though the glam scene was past its prime, it wasn't with my friends. We loved Bowie, T. Rex, Lou Reed, Gary Glitter, all those guys. Back then the whole androgynous bi thing was normal and I had many friends who went both ways, including me, though I was basically hetero. Oh, the parties we had were crazy fun.
I remember when "Take a walk on the wild side" was just that.
More stories Bobby, Randy, and especially Fisk, please? Did you ever tell your gf that you guys used to play "bury the meatpipe?"
I never told any of my g/f's about laying pipe to men, and having it planted in me, or playing the skin flute. None of them would've understood. I did tell my wife, several years after I got married. She was okay with it, in fact, more than a little turned on.
Bobby stayed in Miami, and eventually came out as gay. He's with a longtime partner these days. Randy and Candy ( cute, huh ? ) got married and came to my wedding several years later. We met a couple of times in Key West for vacations, and skinny-dipped in our private pool and fooled around some, but, nothing like the old days. They, eventually, got religion and swore off their old sinful ways, but, I'm betting Randy would still suck my dick ( and me, his ! ) .
Fisk was a whole other story. His mother passed away, and left him very well off, but he continued to slave at menial bullshit jobs. At a time when all other men were getting feathered, styled haircuts, then, spikey punk cuts, he grows his hair to his waist. He became obsessed with his hair, was completely unable to pass a mirror or plate glass window without stopping to observe himself, flipping his long locks as narcistic as they come. He looked like rock star Gregg Allman, but, would get pissed off if somebody called him "Gregg". He also used his long hair as an excuse for any real or perceived slight towards him. He had a failed first marriage which is another story in itself, which I will relate under "Strange". Look for it, and I'll catch you up to date.