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[Pill]

He sat across from her. His one eye locked onto her chest and the other was staring at the wall. Something about a man in a knit cap with googly eyes always got her really hot.

She walked up to him and introduced herself. He said hello, and then focused his attention on his Beast Light. He was like a wounded puppy that listened to Bauhaus.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to talk to me?” she asked him.

He said nothing, just chugging back his brew while his black lipstick clung to the neck.

“Um, I like your shirt. Guns ‘N Roses are one of my favorite bands,” she told him. After that, she couldn’t shut him up. He told her that his name was Iggy, and that life hadn’t been the best for him. “Music isn’t easy,” he said. “There are only so many words that rhyme with each other.”

He talked about music and himself for a good 20 minutes before she put her finger to his lips and said, “Let’s go back to your place.”

They walked into some aged apartment building, and while he tried to open the door, she massaged his dick through his zip-off jeans. The door opened, and all she could do was stare.

His place looked like something out of an Anne Rice novel. She did all she could not to laugh in his face. The apartment had the stale odor of sewage permeating through the air. She really needed to get fucked, so she decided not to say anything.

“Want to see what I got today?” he asked her. “Look, it’s Trixter’s greatest hits!”

“It looks like it’s in bad shape,” she said. “Where’d you get it, a dumpster?”

He looked at her in shock, his face saying, “What’s wrong with that?”

“I’m impressed by your album collection, but I do want to fuck,” she said.

She made him get off the floor and onto the futon, which looked like it served a dual purpose as a bed. She straddled him and shoved her tongue down his throat. Their lipstick stuck to each other’s, and their eyeliner was messed up.

But, she felt nothing. She had been with many men and usually, by this point, she could feel a hard cock. She thought maybe the poor thing was just nervous.

She took her top off and he bit her nipple. And I mean bit it. Fucker drew blood.

“Be careful,” she said after slapping him. “The things are sensitive.”

“I can’t wait to get on Sludge and tell those fuckers about this,” he said. She asked him what Sludge was, but he told her not to worry about it.

Even though her areola was bleeding like a first-time menstrual cycle, she decided to continue with this coital rendezvous. She asked him to go down on her, and he did. At first, his tongue felt good against her clit. But he did it again.

Her gash was bleeding and she knew it wasn’t her hymen.

“That fucking hurt, you prick,” she screamed. “It’s a vagina, not a burger. Don’t you know the difference?”

He apologized, staring at all the blood. “I can’t take it anymore,” he screamed, before whipping off his size 40s and jamming his dick into her. At least, she thought it was his dick. It could have been a piece of uncooked spaghetti for all she knew.

She hadn’t gotten wet from the experience, and this wasn’t helping. He decided to use the blood as lube. With each pathetic thrust, he screamed, “CALL ME THE FORGOTTEN CHILD! CALL ME THE FORGOTTEN CHILD!” In five minutes, it was all over. Her head was spinning as she had been losing blood, and he just sat back, cracked open a beer and put on a KISS album.

She managed to find her clothes and stormed out. He asked her where she was going, as he wanted to serenade her with his latest original song, “Heaven.”

“I’m leaving,” she yelled. “I think I need to get to a hospital.”

“YOU’RE NOTHING HERE, NO ONE, YOU NEVER WERE AND NEVER WILL BE,” he screamed. “SHIT, BEFORE YOU GO, CAN I BORROW $80?”

[saracapri]

I know, hon, and I'm sorry.

That chick Jenn was the one who got me that job. This was years before our thing, but I mention it because I've been meaning to ask her if she's still got the pictures she took that weekend. I know for a fact there's one of James sitting on my lap. If I ever get ahold of them I will definitely scan them and post them here.

I've told you about how me and Lars got stuck in an elevator together for a few minutes and he didn't shut up. Man he was amped to the gills on coke and I could tell he wanted to blow some lines but didn't want to share with me. He wasn't attracted to me. He's the only one in that band who you could call a modelizer, he only liked the really, really fine women. James liked blondes, he'd met us before back at home and was disappointed when my sister wasn't there. But like I said he sat on my lap and we made out for a while because Cliff had gone off somewhere.

I need more details. Just make something up.

[Iron Duck]

And who would direct this masterpiece, Duck? That dude with the electrical tape on his nipples who used to do those porns where rock stars throw lunch meat at groupies' asses?

I was thinking we talk Gheyman into executive producing and he'd probably have some directorial connections for you.

[chickenona]

GO PILL! YAY!!!

That entry was beautiful. The rawness. The honesty. The bloodletting.

Well, sara, I've spent the better part of my unoccupied time today - which was probably about twenty minutes - racking my brain for details of both the sex I had with Cliff and the rest of that weekend.

I do remember James wandering off to hook up with some blond chick who looked so much like him it was a little disturbing. She wasn't ugly or anything, but she even had the sandpaper complexion. I don't know how that shit could have gone down, that boy got DRUNKER THAN FUCK and I was kinda given to understand that he was always like that. I mean he was already buzzing along good when we were hanging out and making out early in the evening, but he kept knocking 'em back all night and was doing the staggering-and-collapsing thing by the time he packed it in for the evening. He, Cliff and some of my friends seemed to be having a yelling contest for the better part of the evening, they would just randomly holler when the room got too quiet for them. They partied as loud as they played.

I didn't see a lot of Kirk, he was with some really hot chick and they kept to themselves for the most part. I'm pretty sure the woman was his first wife. Lars didn't yell quite as much as James and Cliff but he talked nonstop and he and the tall willowy chick he was with would vanish from the room for long periods of time and come back sniffling and eye-darting and teeth-grinding. I really hope that when they started making more money he stopped being quite so stingy with his coke. Someone pissed on the door of the room I slept with Cliff in - we could still see the stains in the morning - and I'm pretty sure it was James. He pissed in a few inappropriate places that evening. Cliff behaved like a typical guy who gets laid and wants to move on in the morning - polite enough, we did a wake and bake and he bought me a sausage egg and cheese biscuit and a coffee - but he clearly wanted to get in the van and get the hell away. He practiced a lot too, he really did love to play and I think he would have been just as happy to sit all night getting high and noodling around on his bass as he was fucking me.

I suspect Jenn could have bagged Lars if she'd wanted - he likes them tall and thin and she fit the bill - but she liked Kirk.

[chickenona]

,

[chickenona]

So there you go. I fibbed a little earlier, I really didn't have to think all that hard to remember this but I've been uneasy about giving it up because he died and became like CLIFF and I feel like a bit of a bitch giving it up that he was basically just a regular fuck and not some kind of sexual supernova. Not the worst I've had by any means but a far cry from the best. Of the probably forty or so people I've had sex with he'd rank probably dead in the middle.

[chickenona]

Goddammit, you guys, did you even see that?

I've been coming to this board for six years and that experience was the only reason I ever stumbled across this insane asylum in the first place. And now I've finally told the story. GIMME SOME LOVE!

[saracapri]

Thanks chicke. That was a great story!

[Bridget]

I read it. It was good. Some of your others have been better.

[chickenona]

THANK YOU!!!

It's weird how this guy - who I didn't get to know anywhere near as well as any of the other people I've written about here so far - seemed like somebody whose info I should keep private. I mean, that's what this board is supposed to be for. But he's just got such a myth and so many fanboys. And deservedly so, he was amazing at what he did and he shaped that band and continued to do so even after he died.

He was just a regular guy between the sheets though. I don't want to give the impression that I'm trying to cut someone down to size or anything here but that's just how it was.

[saracapri]

I don't think you cut him down at all. Of course not!

[chickenona]

Thanks guys. You can feel free to do that if you like, Flis, it can be like another little piece of memorabilia. Ya know, ticket stub, guitar pick, matchbook from the club, story from some anonymous old online skank about fuckin' Cliff. I like the idea.

[chickenona]

I'm sayin'!

That's why I've kept it close to the chest for so long, because of the GUYS on the board. I didn't even cop to it the first couple of years I posted here. And when I did admit it there were all these guys saying, "Wow, you're a badass chick for fuckin' Cliff."

And he had that effect. Natural leadership skills. There was a really tense undercurrent of power struggle between him and James. That band was James' baby but he deferred to Cliff in most things. In Some Kind of Monster I see glimpses of Cliff in James' behavior around the band. I can only describe it as "fatherly", like a stern father figure. And the fatigue he felt that night was largely impatience with the band. I've heard stories about Johnny Ramone and what a taskmaster he was with The Ramones and there were definite shades of that in Cliff. He was the first one up in the morning and the last one to go to bed at night and when he was getting his shit together the next day he was all about getting to practice. All the other guys were like, "But we're playing tonight!" and he was all, "Well, Lars isn't getting it, he was off last night, Kirk needs to go harder, blah blah blah."

[chickenona]

.

[Succubyss]

Nona,

I love you more every day.

S (this is the most epic thread this board has ever seen)

[chickenona]

Aw, I love you too baby!

And I love this thread.

However - WHERE DID MY FUCKING CO-AUTHOR GO? THIS THREAD IS TOO GENTILE!

[TawnyVonJagger]

Chicke, thank you a gazillion for sharing your Cliff story, and your other stories are awesome as well. I can't touch these. No fucking way. But by all means, please continue to share yours.

[Iron Duck]

Alright. I've talked the talk about chicke's stories, so now I'm gonna type the type. For some rip-roaring fun I did this in the style of a Harold Pinter stageplay. Some of the descriptions digress from the style given, but then again plays are usually played, not read, and when they are read it's not by horny middle-aged women searching the internet for smut on a hair metal message board.

Read it slowly and meaningfully, the stage directions included, as if you were one of them. It makes more sense that way. Enjoy.



SCENE 1

A hotel room.
There is a bed in the corner with two bedside tables. There is a door in the back wall at the foot of the bed. Another door resides halfway up the adjacent wall. It is open and the light is on. A bible, a phone, and a pair of earrings rest on the downstage bed side table, a lamp on the upstage. It is off. There are light switches beside both doors. An ironing board is set up in the middle of the room. On it are a hot iron and a white blouse.

Silence.
A light lap of water is heard from the open door.
A knock is heard from the other door. More lapping.
Another knock.

LINDA (off). One second.

Another knock.

LINDA (entering in loose towel). Christ. One second. (She sees the hot iron.) Oops. (Linda unplugs the iron, wraps the towel firmly around herself, and goes to the door.) Who is it?

VOICE (disturbingly sensual). Room service.

LINDA (to herself, unbolting and cracking the door open). What the fuck?

The door is kicked open violently and cracks Linda in the head, knocking her out.
A massive, dark figure with strong backlighting stands in the doorway.

Blackout.


SCENE 2

Lights slowly fade up.
Same room.
Linda is knocked out, lying on the bed. Her hands are bound to the headboard with ripped sheets, but she still has the towel wrapped around her. The lamp is on. The iron has been plugged in again, but the white blouse lies crumpled in a heap beside the bed. The upstage door is closed and locked, but the bathroom door is still open and the light still on.

Silence.
A light lap of water is heard from the open door.

LINDA (beginning to stir awake with a soft groaning). Ugh. (Realising her situation. Pause.) Hello?

Silence.
Another light lap.
Silence.

Hello?

Silence.
More lapping and dripping water. Linda stares at the open door. A ruffling is heard, then a toilet seat being lifted. Someone is taking a piss. The stream is heavy. She bites her lip. The stream finishes and the toilet is flushed. A hand reaches out and turns off the bedroom light, and then the bathroom light. Everything is in silhouette from the lamp.
The same massive, dark figure emerges, bare, from the door and begins walking towards the bed.

LINDA (hysterically). Wait. Stop. Who are you?

He crawls onto the foot of the bed and ferociously rips off her towel. She pulses. He sits back on his knees and primes himself in front of her. She gasps and writhes in her bondage.

MAN (softly). Linda.

Linda freezes.

LINDA. Yes? (Pause.)

He grabs her thighs around his shoulders and begins kissing them tenderly, inch by inch towards his destination. She whimpers softly as her body betrays her. He stops and breathes in heavily the scent. Skipping the rest, he plunges into her lips like a bowl of jello. Linda flails wildly.

LINDA (in pain). Wait. No. Yes. Wait. No. Your. Your beard.

He stops.

LINDA. Your beard. It hurts. (Pause.)

The man, beginning at her taint, slowly and luxuriously licks her entirety. Linda unfolds with his tongue. He drops her legs onto the bed and crawls up behind her, finding her neck with his hand, then his teeth. His hand begins to tighten as his length navigates her tightly held thighs. She tries to scream, but she can't breathe. He loosens his grip, while his other hand slips beneath her and cups her mouth. He massages his way down from her neck and traces the base of her tits. She lets out a long breath beneath his hand and begins kissing his fingers. He slides his hand down to her stomach, indulging in her curvature, then beelines for her pussy, grabbing it selfishly.

LINDA (breathlessly pushing his hand from her mouth). No.

MAN (forcing her back down and covering her mouth again). Shhh.

He forces her legs open and guides his conquistador to her canal. He tests the waters along her shores, then plunges headlong as deep as her fragile body will allow. She cries out beneath his hand, struggles to free herself from the headboard. He grabs the shackling sheets and pulls, breaking the headboard. She frenziedly grabs his back and spurs him on, but he keeps his own pace, filling her entirely with each blitz of her clitoris. He pulls out and flips her onto her back. She reaches down to please herself, as he jerks off furiously over her. His shot catches her by surprise, but she doesn't seem to care as it covers her collarbone. He falls on top of her, rendering her unable to move.
Linda stares at the ceiling.
Silence.
Suddenly he rolls off the bed and starts for the washroom.

LINDA. Hey.

He stops.

LINDA. What about me?

He looks back at her for a moment, then storms to the ironing board, picks up the hot iron, ripping it out of the wall, and raises it above his head. Linda screams.

Blackout.


SCENE 3

The next morning.
Same room.
The ironing board is folded up against the wall and the iron unplugged beside it. The lamp is off, and the bed is neatly made up. Linda enters from the bathroom fully dressed in the white blouse and a business-casual skirt, putting in a pair of earrings. Red marks are just barely visible on her arms from beneath the blouse. She sits on the bed, picks up the phone, and dials.
Silence.

LINDA. Hello? Hi, it's Linda. No, no. No problem at all. Yes, please. If you could send the same one again next week? Excellent. Ta ta.

She hangs up and walks back into the washroom for a moment. Enters, picks up a piece of luggage from behind the bed, opens the upstage door, and leaves.
The door closes.
Silence.

Curtain.

[chickenona]

Hahahaha, go Duck!

Anybody willing to put up an entry is okay in my books. Thanks!

[bane]

That excitement culminated years later for me, in an S & M club in Montreal when Tim tethered me naked to a hobbyhorse and I got myself off in front of a roomful of people while he spanked my ass with a leather-covered ping-pong paddle.

That's hot. A little expansion on that story wouldn't suck.

[Redman77]

GIMME SOME LOVE!

I'm waiting for you to start playing with yourself again.

[CrouchingStonerHiddenBong]

However - WHERE DID MY FUCKING CO-AUTHOR GO? THIS THREAD IS TOO GENTILE!

Wrong.

You are the star of this thread and the sole reason everyone keeps coming back to it. Nobody can deny that.

[cookie]

And to keep the focus of this thread on fucking, where it belongs, I'll give you what I can remember about sex with Cliff.

I remember the time we spent together beforehand, which was actually a lot longer than I'd expected, more than the actual sex. As I said before there was no oral on either end. Looking back I suspect that this may have accounted for the amount of stalling going on, like maybe he was used to girls just taking it out and jamming it in their mouths without any effort on his part and he was waiting for me to just make the first move and suck his big old hog.

He wasn't real big on kissing. It sounds weird but the only word that comes up when I try find a descriptive word for his kisses would be "prim". He didn't open his mouth that much and there was no tongue to speak of. He was an avoider - he would bury his face in my hair, nuzzle my neck and rub his face along my cheek, almost like a cat - but he didn't do a lot of kissing. I didn't really care. We smoked a lot of pot together and it didn't seem to affect him in any meaningful way, he talked low and fast and intelligent and had full focus on the subject of the conversation at all times. He said the one thing he didn't like about the band was the fights. It was why they'd kicked Mustaine out. He had a lot of loose ends with that, he brought Dave up a lot. But he said he was dead weight and too pissed off. But he implied that Kirk didn't feel it the way Dave had. The aggression of their music.

He kept telling me how tired he was and seemed to be anticipating that he might not finish. He did, and I do remember that there was this sense of gratitude when that happened. They'd been on the road for nearly a year straight and there was A LOT of drinking going on. I told him that it was okay if he wasn't in the mood, even though of course it really wasn't. But he'd invited me down, I didn't know shit about stage tech and he was really the only reason I was there, so he was determined to see it through.

He said I had the nicest rack he'd seen in six months. I got a kick out of that, he was being just honest enough to make the compliment special. He didn't say "ever", he said "six months". So being a girl and very touchy and prideful I took the compliment but also in the back of my mind I took it to mean that six months prior there'd been some chick with better tits than me.

He played with my tits for a long time, massaging them and sucking on my nipples. I began playing with myself while he did this because there was this apparent anxiety about getting through it. But his hard-on was rock-solid when he took it out. I think watching me got him hot. He pushed me back on the bed and watched me some more and started stroking himself with one hand and playing with my boobs with the other. Then he sat between my legs and watched me some more. I asked him if he liked it when girls played with themselves and he said most of them didn't but if this was what it was like he wished they would. I was good and wet by the time he kinda pulled me down, with him still sitting up between my thighs, and guided his dick in. His size definitely got the job done and we didn't have to go very long before I got off. He kept saying, "Yeah. Yeah," as I came, then he asked me to wrap my legs around him and I did. His hair hid his face until he got really close, then he threw his head back and groaned and started to ask if he could finish inside of me but before he could get the words out he had gone over the edge and pushed hard a few times and finally collapsed on top of me.

He said it was awesome and went to sleep like right away. I laid there awake listening to the other guys yelling in Matt's room (Jenn's later-boyfriend, who had the bad luck of hosting the party) and wondering if there was a way I could get up and roll another joint without waking him. He had one arm thrown across my chest and slept as still as the dead and I finally passed out that way after a while.

<3 MY HERO

[chickenona]

However - WHERE DID MY FUCKING CO-AUTHOR GO? THIS THREAD IS TOO GENTILE!

Wrong.

You are the star of this thread and the sole reason everyone keeps coming back to it. Nobody can deny that.

Hey now, me and my boy are totally in this together.

Me & Itjogs =

[CrouchingStonerHiddenBong]

That wasn't a sideways insult at him - it was a compliment to you.

This thread would have been buried a long time ago if it weren't for you.

[chickenona]

I owe it all to my cheering section, really.

[Iron Duck]

So is this the contest or the awards ceremony?

[CrouchingStonerHiddenBong]

I owe it all to my cheering section, really.

No, you owe it your natural ability to tell a riveting story.

Learn to take a compliment, lady.

[cookie]

deleted this one
got my ass in gear and wrote my own

[EliseThePiece]

I am crying because chicke trumped my story four times over already.
I really thought I had a chance at winning this thing.
It hurts so bad I can feel it my vagina.


P.S- The cliff Burton story? Jesus christ on MY FACE! Fucking awesome.