How I Became a Band Groupie Whore

How I Became a Band Groupie Whore

When I went to the concert that night, I didn’t plan on being that chick. The one in the front, screaming for the band. Throwing my moist panties on stage, wanting to be the band’s groupie whore, waiting to be noticed. This wasn’t my style, but that night I had decided to let go of all those things I told myself about being the good girl or the responsible one. I was there to have fun, and I didn’t resist. I was hungry for some chaos and some attention.

It had been a long week, and I was exhausted. I had almost talked myself out of going, but I reminded myself that I was trying to do at least one fun thing for myself a week. So, I got on my slinkiest dress, with sultry makeup to match, and headed to the theatre. It was a packed crowd, and the heat was rising.

I pushed my way to the stage and was anxiously waiting while they finished setting up.  It hadn’t been my intention to go for the band’s groupie whore, but I was hot and bothered, and maybe one of those hot, sweaty guys could scratch my itch.

The band walked out

Four men, sexy as hell, confident and gritty. Their stage presence was tangible, but their lead guitarist had caught my eye, and I was going to try to catch his. He was just the right guy to scratch that itch. Long hair, black nails, and muscles showing through that tight shirt. From the first chord, something in me broke open.

I wasn’t clapping or cheering; I just watched transfixed by his aggressive sexuality. I felt the tinges of guilt feeling this way, getting this wet, but my body didn’t care. A few songs in, he noticed me. Not the crowd…me.

They’re hoping to be the band’s next groupie whore.

After the show, I tried to play it cool. I went to where they were walking off stage and made sure he could see me. As he passed, our eyes met. I reached out, trying to let him know I wanted to go backstage. He nodded, and security let me through. I followed them like a dog in heat, trying to keep up the confident act. I had no idea what I was walking into.

Once we were backstage, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to his side. He looked at the other band members and nodded, then led me to his dressing room. Before the door even closed, his mouth was on mine. Our hunger demands to be fed. I grabbed his shirt, the smell of sweat and sex wrapped around us.

I had heard stories of how band groupie whores were treated.

But that night I didn’t care. I was here for me. I wasn’t looking for romance or promises; I just had an itch and he was going to scratch it. After some hot and heavy making out, he got me undressed and was showing me just what it meant to be the groupie whore.

I didn’t much care, I was in too deep… till the rest of the band walked in. Then it hit, and I started to panic, he pulled me close and whispered to me that he shared everything with the band. After a few calming breaths, I realised that I was ok with that and opened myself to the possibilities the night would bring. After he was finished with me, they started passing me around like the drugs and liquor they were imbibing. That was the night I learned what it really meant to be the band’s groupie whore, and I loved it!

After they were finished with me, they sent me home. My hair a mess, my lips swollen (both sets), and my itch thoroughly scratched. I didn’t regret it, I embraced it and was looking forward to the next time they were in town because, of course, I had been invited back!

Give this dirty blonde a call if you want to hear the details of me being the naughty groupie whore, or if you want to hear about me seducing the introvert, sure to make your manhood rise.

Call Mya 1-800-244-0699