hot action

I was born without a shirt on, I rock to live, and I will die with an evil grin on my face.

Last time, I wrote "This is rock week on hotaction.ca" with the assumption that I would be coming up with a new post every day on the subject of music and sex. Instead, it turned out to be "rock week" in the sense that music and sex kept me so busy that I didn't get the chance to write at all.

Actually, I did write a long entry entitled "She's a rocker." It was about my groupie fetish and my love for the trappings of rock'n'roll. I was daydreaming about boots, leather jackets, studded belts. Tight t-shirts. Dark, smouldering and sexy.

It was a well-written essay but I never posted it. Something about it was bothering me. It just felt too theoretical. Anyway, I was too preoccupied with finishing the Spinoza CD of Joy Division songs to worry too much about blogging.

I shaved my head to psych up. It never fails. The unfair advantage: I can pull your hair, and you can't pull mine.

I was on my way to the studio when I decided to pay a midnight visit to a young lady I know. I was just stopping by to see how she was doing and to drop off a photograph, I swear. I didn't even lock up my bicycle.

She got locked up instead. She wound up on her couch, wrists handcuffed behind her back, her big hard nipples pointing straight up at the ceiling.

And I did everything--everything I wanted to.

"Everything" included giving her permission to have a walloping orgasm. And eventually I gave myself permission to have one too. My body roared like an ocean liner, the tide went out and a hot wave surged all over her face, neck and chest.

I released her so she could rub me in. So I could watch her spread a slow sexy smile all over her face.

It was three in the morning when I finally left her place (sexually relieved; and relieved that no one had stolen my bike). I went straight to the studio.

I shut off all the lights, plugged in a Sennheiser 421 microphone (the "Black Beauty"), and turned the Tannoy speakers up nice and loud. I didn't even bother with headphones or a microphone stand. Just planted myself in front of the console, mic in hand, with the sound blasting straight back at me.

I turned everything up until it reached the point of feeding back, which is fucking painful (I told you, I'm very sensitive), and then I laid down the vocal track on the following recording:

~ spinoza - shadowplay [3.7MB mp3--play it LOUD]

Amazing, isn't it, how having your cock in a beautiful woman's mouth can put you in such a mellow mood.