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  Ziggy Stardust Fiction  
   

Uncut Version
by Stardust Grrl

Part V: The Hotel

The Savoy was quite far from Margaret’s flat and the Hammersmith Odeon, so it took a while to get there. Since it was around two-thirty in the morning, there wasn’t much traffic, so David and Margaret got to The Savoy in less than an hour. The time flew by because David and Margaret were quite occupied in the back seat of the Rolls-Royce limousine.

"Can’t we shut that infernal window thingy?" Margaret complained, getting up from David’s arms. "I think that driver’s looking at me," she said in a hushed voice.

"Oh, is he? I suppose we can shut the window," David said. He moved over to the electric controls for the limousine and raised the divider between the driver and them. Now they were in complete privacy.

A hot-blooded Margaret turned to David in ecstasy. "Oh, David," she said as she removed her cape. "Well? What do you think?" Margaret asked wantonly.

David stared at her bare front for a while before answering. "Holy mother of God!" David said, ogling at Margaret and her attributes. "You really want to get laid, don’t you? Let me say, I sure would like to roger with you!"

Margaret licked her lips desirously. "Then come here, lover!"

David leapt at Margaret and started kissing her lecherously. Margaret got very orgiastic about it all and started returning the wild kisses with ones of even more zeal.

They were in the middle of a fantastic make-out session when the car stopped. Through the corner of her eye, Margaret saw they were at the hotel. She also saw the driver trying to see what David and she were doing through the tinted window.

She pushed herself away from David and mumbled, "Mmm, David, stop it…look out the window there…"

David regrettably turned away from Margaret and saw where they were and who was watching them. David jumped out of the Rolls Royce and picked up the driver by his collar. "Now you listen ‘ere, you lout! You’re fired! If I ever see you again I’ll have your head! Bugger off!"

Margaret peeked out from the car to see the chauffeur running away in terror. She smiled at David. "Where are you going to find another chauffeur?"

"Oh, RCA has lots of them, I think. They’ll be able to get me one. Willingly, I’m sure." David helped Margaret out of the car and they walked up the grandiose steps of The Savoy.

The lobby was beautiful. Even though it was somewhere between very late night and very early morning, everything was lit up and attendants were at hand. A small troupe of them came rushing to David as he and Margaret entered the hotel.

"Welcome back, sir!" "May I get you something?" "Does the lady need anything?" "How was your concert?" The little bellboys buzzed around them, bombarding them with questions.

"Thank you, but we are quite fine," David said, walking past them to the elevator.

"Call if you need us!" "Yes, give us a ring!"

When Margaret and David stepped into the elevator, Margaret laughed. "Do you mean that those little blokes do that every time? That’s hilarious!"

David chuckled. "I suppose," he grinned as he told the elevator operator which floor he needed. "It’s funny, isn’t it? It’s fame. You can have it."

Margaret looked at David, a bit stunned. "You mean you don’t like being famous? I’d love it! Just think of all the people who idolise you!"

"Oh, I know it," said David as the elevator halted to a stop. The doors opened and they walked out. "But I don’t know…it’s a drag sometimes. Those guys in the lobby really backed that up, you know?"

Margaret and David walked down an impressive corridor. Margaret nodded. "Yeah, I’d hate for people to ask me questions all the time. Especially if I was you. Your works are so deep and abstract…and sometimes not easily understandable."

David looked at Margaret and laughed his jocose laugh. "Margaret, are they really?"

Margaret was not entirely sure if he was being facetious or not, so she just laughed along with him. "It certainly isn’t the Monkees all over again!" she added. David found this incredibly humorous and laughed some more.

He turned to an intricately adorned door and unlocked it. He opened the door. Margaret could not believe what she saw.

She walked in, wide eyed, staring at the room’s sheer magnificence. The carpet under her feet was padded and soft. The walls were beautifully covered with the finest and most expensive wallpaper. On the walls hung impressive works of art, some that she recognised. There was crown moulding adorning the cathedral ceilings.

Walking further into the room, Margaret approached the immense canopy bed, lavished with beautiful silks and veils. She sat down on the bed. It had to have been the most comfortable bed she had ever felt. She noticed other pieces of furniture that were reminiscent of the Victorian Era. There were glossy cherry cabinets, dressers, desks, and matching chairs, sofas, and ottomans. She looked over at a counter with innumerable crystalline glasses and flasks and plentiful bottles of alcohol and fine wines.

Margaret got up from the bed and walked into the extremely exquisite bathroom, which had a tile floor. There was a marble bathtub and a large, separate shower. Two marble sinks rested in front of a huge mirror trimmed with gold and a separate vanity sat by itself in a corner of the room. A toilet sat in the back, hidden by a wall.

Margaret touched the smooth surface of the bathtub on her way out. She looked around the room and saw a door, which she opened. The door revealed another room quite like the one she was standing in.

Margaret closed the door and whistled to herself. She took another look around the room. She was surprised to see someone at the door. Of course, it was David, standing there and looking amused. She had almost forgotten about him! David made the room appear even more heavenly than it already was.

She ran over to David and gave him a hug, almost knocking him over. "Oh, David! It’s delicious!" Margaret kissed him. She had a second thought. "David, what about Angie? I mean…"

"Oh yes, Angie," David said nonchalantly. "Like I said before, we have a very open relationship. Surely you see it in the papers nearly every day."

"Yes, especially Melody Maker, but…you’re married…"

"And you’re saying? We let each other experiment around. We share lovers sometimes, you know."

"Oh, sure," Margaret nodded. "But with little Zowie…?"

"Margaret, you’re such a nice girl, you know that? I love Zowie very much, and so does Angie. We try to raise him well, but living with us would be quite interesting, you know?"

"Yes, you and Angie are just a couple of kooks," Margaret laughed, recalling a song David wrote for Zowie.

"You don’t know the half of it!" David smiled. He walked over to the wet bar and stooped to get something out of the refrigerator connected to it.

"So it’s alright that we do this?" Margaret asked.

"Sure," David said as he rummaged through the refrigerator. "I wouldn’t be surprised if Angie walked into this room with someone in tow. Then you could meet her."

"I saw her briefly at the Hammersmith Odeon, but we didn’t really get to talk."

"Well, seeing how much fun you were having with Jacqueline, I think you two would get along fine!" He laughed and stood up, finally finding the wanted item.

David walked towards Margaret with the goods in hand. "Here, I bet you like these," he said, handing her the container.

Margaret studied it. "Oooh! Strawberries and chocolate!"

"Yes, chocolate-dipped strawberries. Scrumptious, aren’t they?" David licked his lips. "And quite erotic, you know."

Margaret laughed at David. She was so happy she would be sleeping with him in a matter of minutes!

"Oh, come here, Margaret," David said, walking over to a large cherry cabinet. Margaret put the chocolate-dipped strawberries down on the bed and followed him.

David opened the doors of the cabinet. "Perhaps you’d like to slip into something a little more…comfortable?" he asked, pulling out a fetchy little negligée piece.

"Oooh! May I?" Margaret asked. She was amazed by all the different kinds of fabrics in the cabinet.

"Go right ahead. I think I’ll change too," David said, pulling out a silky, golden nightshirt and slacks. "Heheheh, no underwear," he said, winking at her. David sauntered over to the other room’s door and blew a kiss to Margaret as he stepped inside. He closed the door behind him.

"What a man!" Margaret said aloud. "Hmmm. Now about the lingerie…" she said, sorting through the clothes.

There were pink tops and thongs with fuzzy feathers; translucent, coloured shirts with more thongs; and shiny, soft tops with half-pants. There were so many different clothes to choose from! With the cape on, it was difficult to look for a suitable outfit. Margaret had to keep clutching the sides of the cape to prevent it from falling off of her shoulders. "Oh, the bollocks with this!" she said. She looked around and, seeing the coast was clear, entirely removed the cape. She tossed it on the floor by the cabinet. "Now, let’s get down to business," she said, returning to her job of sorting the pieces of clothing.

Margaret finally discovered an outfit that was to her liking. The first one that caught her eye was a black velvet three-piece set. She pulled it out of the cabinet and held it up to her body, looking in a mirror that was sitting across the room. It was a long, body draping charmeuse gown with goldtone foil velvet cups and had a low-cut back with sexy side slits. The outfit came with a black velvet coat with feathers added to it. She whistled and thought to herself, That must have cost a pretty penny!

She returned to the cabinet, carefully draping the costume over a nearby chair. She sorted through various linens and silks and was drawn to another interesting piece. She drew it out of the closet, as carefully as before. She would feel just awful if she would accidentally ruin one of Angie’s outfits!

She was entranced by this beautiful piece of art. It was another three-piece set. She knew so much about lingerie because she had worked at the lingerie department at a clothing store before becoming an usherette. She walked over to her position in front of the mirror and held the costume up to her body.

This piece took her breath away as she gazed in the mirror. What she was examining in front of the mirror was a beautiful white stretch mesh and marabou three-piece bustier set. There were adjustable straps and stockings that came with it. "Goodness," she said out loud. "Angie is an interesting person!" She walked back to the closet and draped that costume on the chair.

She returned to the closet. "Only one more!" she said to herself. She really did not want to have David waiting on her.

After sorting some more, Margaret found the last costume she wanted to pick. She really loved this one. She ran to the mirror and held it up. "Ooooh!" she squealed.

It was a daring red stretch lace and chiffon baby doll set. It was composed of a bra-type top and a g-string bottom. There was a translucent, see-through top that went over that. "This is the one!" Margaret said excitedly. She draped her prize over her arm and ran to the chair where her other favourites were resting. She quickly picked up the two she decided against and returned them to the cabinet. She ran into the bathroom and shut the door.

"Won’t David be thrilled!" Margaret said to herself. "I can’t believe this!" She turned to the extravagant mirror and looked at herself. Her makeup was all over her porcelain-coloured face. It was a wonder David didn’t turn away in disgust when he first saw Margaret.

"Oh my!" Margaret said. "I really should do something about this." Margaret looked round the bathroom for some makeup. "I’m in David Bowie’s bathroom," Margaret chuckled, "And I can’t find any makeup. How ironic!" She laughed, looking all the more for cosmetics.

Upon turning to the vanity, Margaret found a treasure trove of makeup sitting before its mirror. "Ah!" she said as she sat down to the vanity. She looked at her hair. It was all matted and tangled. "I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give it a wash," she said. She put her ear to the wall and listened for running water in the next bathroom. Sure enough, David was taking a bath in the other washroom.

Taking a bath in the marble bathtub was an experience Margaret enjoyed thoroughly. She knew she couldn’t take her time; nevertheless, she added various sweet-smelling and invigorating oils to the water that she found by the bathtub. Scrubbing the red mess that was once a lightning bolt was quite a chore. She eventually got it off and she let the warm water surround her body. The water felt so good and the shampoo smelled like herbs and flowers. "Ohhhh…" Margaret moaned as she sunk into the bubbles. She rinsed her hair, drained the water, and wrapped herself in a soft and fluffy towel.

She dried her hair with another expensive-looking towel and sat down at the vanity, brushing her hair, to put on some makeup. "Hmmm. What shall I choose?" she said, studying the various cosmetics. Some of them were meant for the theatre; she knew she was not going to use those.

As soon as her wandering eyes abandoned the theatre makeup section, she found a large amount of various cosmetics, including lipstick, rouge, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara. There were brilliant reds, moderate browns, and bright pinks. Along with those normal colours there were other shades with distinct differences. Margaret found some white and black lipstick, red and purple eyeshadow, and blue and maroon mascara. Some of these shades were foreign to Margaret but most she knew well and liked.

Margaret turned to look at her costume, hanging on the back of the door. It was a stark red compared to the whiteness of the room. "Well," she said to herself, getting up, "I think I should put on my outfit before I put on my makeup."

Just getting the outfit on presented a few problems. She often had to adjust certain articles; she often had this on backward or that inside out. With a little experimenting and ingenuity she finally was able to get the costume on.

Margaret returned to the vanity. When she looked in the mirror she was startled. "Why, I look like a whore!" she said to herself. She shifted articles of clothing to different places on her body. "Ah, now that’s better." She sat down and began applying makeup. Daring red lipstick, red blush, and brown eyeshadow were her choices. She found a white button-down shirt and decided to put that on. It wasn’t exactly warm in the room.

After a matter of minutes, Margaret was transformed into a raving femme fatale. She gave her short hair a toss and stepped out of the bathroom to meet her destiny.

Margaret was somewhat disappointed when she found that David was still taking a bath in the other room. "Drat!" she muttered. "We’re losing valuable time!" She thought for a while and laughed at her seriousness. She wandered over to the bed with the container of chocolate dipped strawberries still sitting on it. She moved the container to the foot of the king-size bed and laid down. She could see herself in the mirror from her position on the bed.

Using the mirror as an advantage, the hopeful enchantress assumed various seducing positions on the bed. She licked her lips and moaned. "Oh, David," she practised. "Oh, David. Oh, David! Oh! David! Oh—shit!"

Margaret’s practising was cut short when an intruder entered the room. Margaret was clearly shocked. "I—I…" Margaret stammered, immediately recognising the person. It was none other than Angela Bowie herself! "I…"

"What a catch," Angie said, eyeing Margaret and her attributes. Her eyes seemed to strip Margaret of her unbuttoned white shirt…and what was underneath. "My, my. David has certainly outdone himself this time! And who are you, little lady?"

"Um…" Margaret was speechless. She got up from the bed and faced Angie. "I’m…M—Margaret Canterbury…"

"You are?" Angie said, playing with Margaret.

"Yes. We’ve met, briefly, before. Today before the show…"

"Oh! I remember you. You’re the one with that tight blue outfit. I was certainly impressed with you."

"Really? Wow! I mean…yeah. I’ve always been a fan of yours."

"Have you, then?" asked Angie, walking towards Margaret slowly. "Hmmm…" Angie stared at Margaret’s breasts and legs. "Tell me," she said, walking around Margaret and giving her a sensual massage, "Do you like boys…or girls?"

Margaret had never had a better massage in her life. "Ohhh…" she moaned, tilting her head back and taking it all in.

Angie kept massaging Margaret’s shoulders. She whispered in her ear, "Which?" Angie kissed Margaret’s ear.

"Oh, lord…" Margaret whispered. "I like both," she said.

"Do you really?" asked Angie, sashaying over to the bed.

"Yes!" Margaret thought Angie was the sexiest and most beautiful woman alive. Of course, David was the sexiest and most handsome man.

"Well, girl," Angie breathed, beckoning from the bed, "So do I."

This all was too much for Margaret. "Oh my lord," she pulled off her cover-up and walked over to the bed.

Angie grinned devilishly and pulled Margaret down next to her on the bed. "Come here," she said.

Margaret eagerly threw herself onto Angie. Angie kissed her ardently; Margaret returned the favour. Margaret took off Angie’s top and kissed her bare front. Angie removed Margaret’s translucent shirt, undid her skimpy top, and did the same. Bright red lipstick was invariably everywhere.

During this off-colour groping, David returned to the main room from the shower, all clean and ready to go. He saw Angie and Margaret making love on the bed and walked over to the wet bar to get some champagne. David thought nothing of it; he and Angie had a relationship that accommodated their bisexuality. Many nights he or Angie would bring someone home and they would share lovers. David and Angie both thought it was quite fun.

He poured himself some champagne, laughing about their relationship, and walked over to the bed. They still hadn’t noticed him. He climbed onto the bed and started kissing them both for sport. Margaret and Angie finally realised there was another body among them and opened their eyes. Margaret was startled; Angie played it cool.

"Hello, David," Angie said, kissing him. "How are you, love?"

"Oh, you know, same old, same old." He kissed Angie back. "And how is our little Margaret?" he asked in a full-blown cockney accent.

"I’m sorry, David!" Margaret said, looking down. She remembered she had no shirt on and she crossed her arms over her chest. "I—"

David started to laugh. "Sorry about what? Goodness, you’re only doing what comes naturally, aren’t you?"

"Um…I suppose I am." Margaret smiled. "Are you…mad at me?"

"Oh, heavens no!" David laughed more. "Why would I be angry?"

"Um…" Margaret chuckled. "I don’t know!"

Angie got up from the bed. "I should be going," she said, picking up her top.

"Where?" Margaret also got up and put her bra and top on.

"Oh, I don’t know, hit a few bars, you know. The usual." She walked to the door.

Margaret was sad to see her go. "Angie…"

Angie turned around from the door and walked back to Margaret. "Oh, love!" Angie smiled, giving Margaret a hug.

Margaret hugged her back. "Do you want my telephone number?" Margaret paused, realising she was asking a celebrity if she wanted her number. She giggled.

"Of course! I’ll give you mine, too," Angie chuckled and walked over to the phone where there was a pad of paper and a pen. She wrote down her number and tore off the sheet. "Here you go," Angie handed them to Margaret.

Margaret took Angie’s number and tossed it on the desk nearby. Margaret wrote her name and number down and handed the paper back to Angie. "This is the phone number for the flat I just started renting," Margaret explained. Angie nodded. She tore it off, put Margaret’s number in her pocket, and put the stationery back in its rightful place. She started to walk towards the door, but returned to Margaret.

"I must give you a kiss!" Angie confessed with a laugh.

"Me too!" Margaret returned. They pressed close together and gave each other a warm kiss.

"Mmmm," Margaret said after the kiss. She walked Angie to the door. "Thank you for a wonderful time!"

"Oh, your night isn’t over yet," she chuckled. "Have fun with David! You know what he really likes?"

"What?" Margaret asked.

"Cover yourself with whipped cream or chocolate. Have him lick it off of you." Angie winked. "It’s lots of fun. But it does tickle!"

"What a novel idea! I’ll make sure to do that," Margaret nodded.

"And if he’s in a really good mood…" Angie paused, giggling. "You’ll get to cover him with whipped cream. And then, you’ll get to lick it off."

"Ooooh! Really?" Margaret’s eyes sparkled.

"Yes!" Angie squealed. "Also, guess what?"

"What?" Margaret was really enjoying this.

"He’ll get out the whips and chains!" Angie was only kidding with this one.

"Goodness!" Margaret laughed. "He’s a sex machine!"

"You’d better believe it, girl. And you’d better be able to keep up with him. From our little experience, I can tell you won’t have a problem!"

"Oh, Angie!" Margaret laughed, giving her a hug and kissing her.

"I better be off," Angie said. She blew Margaret a kiss. "Bye-bye!" she said, closing the door behind her.

Margaret shook her head and laughed. She turned to the bed and found David laying down in a seductive position and stirring a container of whipped cream with his finger. The position was remarkably better than any Margaret had practised. He opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and licked his finger clean.

Margaret’s jaw dropped and she almost started to drool. Then, collecting herself, she said, "So what Angie said was true!" She walked over to the immense bed and sat down.

"Isn’t it true with everybody? Haven’t you done this before?" He licked his lips.

Margaret could feel her blood boiling. She was sure her face was turning red. Margaret forced her eyes back in her head and said coolly, "Oh, yes. But not with a rock star!"

David chuckled. "You think I’m a rock star?"

Margaret looked at David, somewhat stupidly. "Of course I think you’re a rock star! Anyone who has had great success like yours is a rock star!"

David pondered for a moment. "Then would you be here if I wasn’t a rock star?"

"Oh, yes!" Margaret said. "You’re so sexy and appealing! You’re anything a girl like me would ever want."

"How would you have met me?" David asked. Margaret looked at him blankly. "Just kidding!"

Margaret felt embarrassed, though she wasn’t sure why she did.

David put the whipped cream down onto the bed and crawled over to Margaret. "So," David said, looking over Margaret’s well-endowed, curvaceous features, "What does a girl like you want?" His beautiful voice got softer as he got closer to Margaret.

"Well…" Margaret started, trying to get a hold of herself, "I…don’t want much. Right now…right here…I want…"

"Yes?" asked David.

"I want…a stalk of celery! Do you have any celery?" Margaret giggled. She was only kidding.

David looked at Margaret for a second and then laughed a deep laugh. "Oh," David said, holding his side because he was laughing so hard, "Oh, Margaret! I love a girl with a sense of humour!"

Margaret laughed, almost crying. "So do I!"

David stopped laughing for a moment and looked at Margaret. He started to laugh, even harder. "Which is why you went after Angie with so much zeal!"

Margaret paused, realising what she had said. She started to laugh as incessantly as David. "Oh, no!" Margaret laughed. "What I mean is," she paused for a breath of air, "That I like a man with a sense of humour! Well, and a girl, too."

David continued to laugh his recognisable laugh. "Oh, my! My, my, my."

They laughed for minutes afterward. David even fell off of the bed and rolled around on the floor, and Margaret was soon to follow. She knocked the whipped cream and the container of chocolate-covered strawberries over with her fall. Luckily, none spilled. Finally they collected themselves and got back on the bed. They left the two containers on the floor.

David smiled. "Now," he said, "What does a girl like you want…besides celery?"

Margaret giggled and then calmed herself. She crawled over to David. "I want…" Margaret got on David, kneeling, with one leg on either side of his abdomen. She sat up on top of him.

David lied there, enjoying every second of this. He could feel an odd sensation behind his eyes, almost as if they were frying.

"I want…" She leaned over so her bosom was close to his face and started unbuttoning David’s golden shirt. She licked and kissed his throat down to his stomach as she scooted herself down his body. "I want…you."

"Oh, Margaret!" David moaned.

"David!" Margaret groaned in reply. She got off of David and slowly untied his pants. She could tell David was very much stimulated…he was not wearing any underwear. Margaret looked for a while at his package and ran her finger down from his chest to his "old party whistle."

David tilted his head back into the pillow in ecstasy. "Ohhhh!" he murmured.

Margaret laid herself down on top of him and kissed him passionately. They ran their fingers through each other’s hair. It was the same colour, same length, and same style.

David and Margaret continued kissing each other all the while. David reached behind Margaret’s neck and untied the translucent top. He blindly groped for her bra unfastener and removed that also. Margaret’s front was completely bare. He rolled her over and positioned himself on top of her. He weighed the same or less than Margaret…all of the drugs he was doing certainly made him thin and pale. Margaret was pale also, but she was naturally light complected. She did drugs occasionally. She was thin, but had just the right amount of flesh in certain areas. In some places, she had more—a good thing for her boyfriends and girlfriends.

David looked down at Margaret and grinned mischievously. Margaret giggled in return. He gazed at her front for quite a while and almost started to drool, but he controlled himself and grinned again.

Sitting on top of her, he pulled off his unbuttoned shirt and tossed it to the side. Margaret giggled again. He did not remove his pants, but Margaret had a clear view of his bits and pieces. He knew this; he liked it. So did she.

Margaret grabbed a hold of his kneeling legs on either side of her body and started to rub them. His legs were smooth, muscular, and white. They reminded her of peaches and cream.

Now it was David’s turn to work his mojo. Since her shirt and bra were already off, this meant easy access for David and his libido to enter the scene. He smiled naughtily and bent his head down. He gave her a very lustful french kiss and kissed her on the neck. David sat back up and examined her torso. He laid his hands on her front. Margaret squealed.

David paused. "Wait a tick," he said to Margaret. He got off of her, off the bed, and onto the floor. He had to hold his pants up to prevent them from falling since Margaret had untied them. David picked up the containers of whipped cream and chocolate covered strawberries. He took them over to the bed, holding his pants up at the same time, and repositioned himself on Margaret.

"Now…" he said, getting some whipped cream in the palm of his hand, "Now we can really get started."

David licked his lips and put the container down. He filled his other hand with a scoop of whipped cream. His strong hands touched down onto Margaret’s breasts and began applying the whipped cream.

Margaret rolled her eyes back into her head and sunk her head into the pillow with passion. "Ohhhhhhh………..David………."

David applied a layer of whipped cream onto her front. He reached for the container of chocolate dipped strawberries and took one out. David grinned as he studied the strawberry. He coated the fruit with the whipped cream on Margaret and bit into it.

"Ohhhh!" Margaret moaned as he bit the strawberry.

David smiled and dipped the fruit again, feeding it to Margaret this time. "Gonna give you sweet head!" he said in a camp voice.

David did his berry dipping for quite some time. He eventually began to tire of bothering to use strawberries to get the whipped cream off, so he licked it off with his tongue.

By this time, Margaret had nearly wet herself. She had a feeling that she had never felt before; she had dreamed and dreamed of this moment, and here she was. She could not get over the fact that the one and only David Bowie was sitting on her and licking her breasts. Ha! This is so unreal. I’m glad it’s not that time of the month! she thought with a grin.

"Yummy," said David with a childish smirk. "Would you like some? It’s rather tasty when it comes right off of somebody."

"Well," Margaret laughed, "I don’t see how I’m going to be able to lick my own breasts!" David laughed at this anecdote.

"No," chuckled David, "But you can lick me."

"I knew that!" Margaret smiled. David got off of her and laid down where Margaret had been. Margaret positioned herself on him and brought the whipped cream container up to her cheek. "This is how we engage in naughty sexual acts," she said jokingly. She put some whipped cream on her finger and smeared it on and around David’s mouth. "Voila! It is art!" She and David laughed.

Margaret got a little more serious as she bent down to lick the whipped cream off his face. She licked, kissed, and licked some more until there was none left. She then applied some to David’s chest, especially his nipples.

She got off of David so she could bend over to his chest easier. She licked his chest clean, and then tongued his nipples. David’s pants were untied, and she could see that he was becoming more and more aroused all the time. Margaret sat up and fingered her breasts. "What to do, what to do…"

David was watching her with great anxiety. He had not been this excited since the month before, when he had a foursome going with his boyfriend, Angie, and her girlfriend. Even that was not as exciting as this!

Margaret suddenly got a mischievous smile on her face. A devilish smile. She turned around with her back to David and laid down so his pants were near her face. She propped herself onto her elbow and ran her finger over the smooth, golden material. Then she sat up and, with both hands, slowly slid off David’s pants. This was the moment she had been dreaming about ever since she had laid eyes on David, back in 1966. She was undressing David Bowie!

She took off his pants and threw them aside. There he was, completely naked, lying on the bed. And there she was, her only clothes a g-string, sitting next to him. She advanced towards his area.

David twitched when he saw what Margaret was doing. "You’re putting my cock in your mouth?" he asked playfully.

"Yes, why not?" Margaret didn’t realise he was kidding.

"Lord, I’m only joking!" laughed David.

"Oh!" Margaret giggled. "That’s good!" She then resumed her act and sucked on it for a while.

After a while, Margaret said, "Tastes like peaches."

"What?" asked David. "My cock tastes like peaches?"

"Peaches and cream," Margaret said. "I’ve always wondered what Bowie love tastes like."

"Oh no, you’re not even close to being done!" David said, chuckling.

"I know, I know!"

"God, we haven’t even screwed yet!" David laughed some more.

"We’re getting there!" She resumed her sucking. After a while, Margaret got up off the bed and slowly removed her g-string. She threw it to the side. "Let the games begin!"

David got up and yanked her over to the bed. Margaret shrieked in surprise. They both tumbled down onto the cool sheets and began kissing each other, slowly at first, but then more rapidly. Very quickly, in fact. They were both panting very excitedly. Margaret pressed herself close to David. "Mmmm!" she groaned. "Oh, God!" She felt David’s—car—going inside her—garage. "Uhuhuhuhuh!!!!! EYEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!"

David was pumping it in, and out…in, and out…in, and out. "MMMMMM!!!! OHHHHHH!!!! Holy shit!!!! Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God!!!!!!!!!!" He rolled Margaret on top of him. Margaret was slamming him hard. Not soft, hard. Very hard. David loved it.

Margaret kissed him between breaths. "Ummmmm," kiss, "Ohhhhhh!" kiss, "Uhhhhhhh!!" kiss, "Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Margaret shrieked with delight. She pressed herself closer and closer to his body and rubbed her bare chest onto his.

David rolled Margaret over to his left side. They were making a total mess of the sheets, but it didn’t matter. Margaret grabbed his ass with her free hand and made him jump. "Oh!" he exclaimed. He did the same to Margaret and she screamed.

David pushed himself a few inches away from Margaret so he could touch her breasts. He squeezed them and Margaret giggled, incredibly high on love. Margaret let David play around a bit. He kissed them for a while, and then Margaret grabbed his crotch. Was it ever wet. She played with that for a while, and then stopped. David and Margaret looked each other square in the eyes.

"Oh my Lord," Margaret whispered into his ear. She kissed it and licked it. "I love you so freaking much."

"Margaret…" David returned the kisses. "Ohhh, Margaret! I love you too."

Margaret almost fainted. David grabbed her and kissed her long and hard. He parked his car once again, and kept backing it in…and out…and in…and out…and in…and out.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh…….!!!!!!!" Margaret moaned and groaned. "Whaaam baaam…"

"Thank you ma’am!!!!!!!" David finished for her. "Oh, yes!!! Yes!!!!!!"

"YESSSS!!!!!!!!!!!" Margaret squealed. She kissed him, again, again, and again. She ran her fingers through his hair and kept pressing herself closer to him. She was very squished.

The bed was soaked. Margaret and David were practically swimming on it. Margaret showed no sign of tiring, and neither did David. They kissed each other frantically, like there was no tomorrow. At the same time, David was still pumping it, with moans from Margaret and groans from David.

Margaret still couldn’t believe it: she was having sex with David Bowie! And he didn’t do it just once, either. Much more than that; much, much more. She was sweating like she had never sweated before. She was drenched in a mixture of saliva, sweat, and semen.

David was having the time of his life. Ohhhhh, God!!!! This chick is way better than Angie!!! Ohhh!!!! Margaret had never felt anything like it either. It seemed that they were meant for each other.

"Oh, God!" Margaret wailed. "It just can’t get any better than this!"

"I know, I know!!"

They continued shagging and kissing for a long while. "Margaret, love," David said, out of breath, "Do you want a drink? The champagne is fantastic."

"Sure, David," Margaret returned demurely. David got up from the bed and walked over to the bar. Margaret smiled and followed him. She kissed him on the neck while he poured the drinks.

Margaret realised she could see their reflection in the mirror. She stared at the mirror in awe. There she was, standing with David Bowie, naked. She could not believe her eyes. They got back on the bed. The sheets were very wet.

"Oh, damn," David said. "These sheets are much too wet. Do you want to go in the other room?"

"Sure," Margaret agreed.

Jacqueline was exhausted. This glam lifestyle she was sampling was quite fatiguing. She closed her eyes, lying next to Mick, and began to drift off to sleep.

The ringing was soft at first. Then it became louder and louder until Jacqueline had to sit up and get out of bed. "What the freak is that?" She stretched and looked down at Mick, who was fast asleep.

After hearing more of it, she finally realised it was the phone. She knew it could be an important call, so she sleepily rushed over to answer it.

"Hello?" She said, rubbing her eyes.

"Yes, may I speak with Margaret?" an older, more mature voice asked.

"Um…" Jacqueline freaked out. She knew Margaret was not there. She couldn’t just tell this person that Margaret was at some fancy-schmancy hotel, making out with David Bowie. She racked her brain for something half-intelligent to say. "Um…Who’s calling, please?" That would at least delay the bomb dropping.

"It’s Margaret’s mother," the voice said.

Jacqueline turned white and put her hand over the receiver. "Oh, shit!" She whispered to herself. "One moment, please."

She put the phone down on the counter and ran over to Kisch and Woody. "Kisch! Woody! Somebody, wake up!" She shook them until they awoke.

"Huh…?" A confused Woody asked sleepily. "What’s going on?" Kisch yawned and nodded along.

"You guys won’t believe this! Margaret’s mother is on the phone!"

"Oh my God!" Kisch cried. "But it’s so late!"

"Shhh!!!!" Jacqueline motioned. "She’ll hear you!"

"This is bad," Kisch whispered.

"Hmm. Let’s see…what can we do?" Woody stroked his chin.

"We’d better think of something really fast, or else she’ll get suspicious!" Jacqueline was panicking. What was there to do?

"Calm down, calm down," Woody murmured. "Uh…just tell her that she’s fast asleep and she doesn’t want to be bothered."

Jacqueline nodded fervently. That sounded like a good plan. Of course, any plan was better than just hanging up or something. She rushed over to the phone. "Mrs. Canterbury?" she said sweetly.

"Yes?"

"Margaret’s fast asleep. She doesn’t want to be bothered."

"But she is there?"

Jacqueline crossed her fingers. "Yes," she lied. "She is here."

"Oh, I’m so happy!" Margaret’s mom was relieved. "I was so worried about her. Sure, she is 22, but you know how mothers are," she said, laughing.

Jacqueline played along and laughed with her. "Yes, my mother’s just like that. Always worrying…but I guess that really shows you care, eh?"

"Yes indeed. Thank you so much! You have no idea how relieved I am."

"Oh, yes…" Jacqueline trailed off. "I’d better go back to bed."

"Alright! Thank you. Good-bye."

"Bye," Jacqueline said. She hung up the phone and sunk down to the floor. "Phew!" she said. "I’m glad that’s over." She got up and walked back to bed.

David got up and reached for her hand. She willingly took it and followed him into the other room where a bed was waiting. Margaret ran and jumped onto the bed, careful not to spill any champagne. A little did spill, but she managed to keep the majority inside of the glass. David stared at her as she ran. "Something tells me I want to see the front of you when you run," he said with a smile.

Margaret blushed and set her glass down on the nightstand. "Okay then!" She got up, ran towards him, and jumped on him. She nearly knocked him over, but he was a really strong man.

David grinned and kissed her. "Yes, I liked that," he chuckled. He carried her over to the bed and sat on top of her. He stroked her creamy skin. "You are a beautiful girl," he said. "One of the most beautiful."

"And you…" Margaret paused. She had dreamed of this night for years and it had been unfolding, that night, right before her eyes. "You are…" She searched for the right words to say. "You are the most wonderful person I have ever met. You are handsome, smart, sexy…oh! I love you so much!"

"And I love you, dear Margaret." David smiled at her. The heavens seemed to open their celestial dams and archangels seemed to sing along to the tune of his bright gesture. It was the most beautiful thing Margaret had seen in her life. He got off of her and moved over to her side. He laid down and faced her. The smile was quickly erased and a very serious look was put in its place. "I really do love you. Do you understand?"

Margaret got a little confused. "Yes, and I love you."

"You don’t understand. I love you!" David cried, matter-of-factly.

Margaret was beginning to feel a little worried…almost scared. She sat up. "What? I understand you perfectly! Trust me, I love you too! Really!"

David sat up. "But do you? Do you really?"

Margaret was about to cry. "What the hell do you mean? Of course I do! You’re everything I’d ever want! What is this?"

"Oh, Margaret," David sighed. "All these girls…they…they only want me because of who I am! They treat me like I’m Ziggy, not David Jones! It’s so…oh, damn it! Why won’t they see me for who I am?"

"David, calm down!" Margaret cried. She was thoroughly confused now. She searched for something comforting to say. "David, um…it’s okay…trust me…it’ll be alright…please, don’t worry, love…"

"But it’s so true! They all love me for who I’m not! I am not Ziggy!"

"I know, I know!" Margaret was on the verge of freaking out.

"I hate this so much! God, it’s so stressful! I just can’t take it anymore! I know what I’m going to do. Yes, that’s a good idea." David grinned morbidly. "And I’ll take you with me."

Margaret turned white as a sheet. "W-W-W-What???!!!" She got off of the bed. "What do you mean?"

"I’ve finally found the girl of my dreams…"

"But you’re married to Angie!"

"I hate that bitch! You’re the one for me. Anyway…"

Margaret stared at him in shock. What was going on? She thought he loved Angie! She certainly did. Margaret couldn’t believe what he was saying.

"So here’s what I’m going to do. I have some ludes in the other room. We’re going to take maybe, oh, 40 of them each, and wash each one down with vodka. Every once in a while we’ll shoot up some coke. Maybe there’s some grass in there somewhere too…"

"You’re saying that we’re going to commit suicide?!" Margaret was very scared.

"Wait! I haven’t got to the best part yet! So we’re going to get incredibly high, right? And then we’ll jump in the bathtub together and make out until we die. Wait a minute, maybe we should take the ludes in the bathtub…"

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Don’t do this! Please stop! We can get through this! You have so much to live for! You do, you do! You and I are both too young to die! Oh!!!" She dropped to her knees. "Please, listen to me! You have so much to live for!"

David looked up at her and grinned. "You think so? You really think I have something to live for? I mean, look at me! I’m a freaking wreck! What do you see?"

"Oh, God…I see a very successful young man. I see a man with good looks, smarts, and oh, so much more! So, so much more! Don’t do this to yourself! Please!"

"Hmm. You really think I can get through this?"

"Yes, damn it! Yes!"

"How do you figure?"

David was smiling. Margaret was very scared, and at the same time, angry with him. Had he gone crazy? Sure, she knew that his family had a history of schizophrenia, but David wasn’t that way…was he? "Look, David," she said, trying to compose herself, "Just relax." She walked over to the bed, trembling, and sat down. "Let me ask you a question. What would it help if you were to…do yourself in?"

David thought for a while. "Hmmm…" He scratched his chin. "I just…" He looked down at his hands. "I just don’t want to be recognised as Ziggy!"

Margaret stared at him. She loved Ziggy! "Wait a minute. Ziggy retired tonight. That ended that, right? I mean, Ziggy is no more since you retired him."

"That’s partly true…well, yes, that is true. I guess that problem is solved…but no. People still will think of me as Ziggy, even after he’s gone."

"Well," Margaret said, taking a deep breath, "You should, um…start something new. Create a new project…but this time, don’t conjure up an alter ego. What do you plan on doing next?"

"I want to do an adaptation of Orwell’s 1984."

"Really? Wow! I absolutely love that book! Anyway, you don’t need an alter ego for that, right?"

"That’s true, but one will probably come up somewhere in there. It’s just so unavoidable."

"Why?" Margaret felt like some kind of avant-garde psychiatrist. There she was, naked and very frightened, sitting on a bed. And there was her client, the disillusioned rock star, also naked, lying down on the bed. This thought calmed her down a little.

"Well, my family…" David trailed off.

"Your family?"

"They…they have a history of schizophrenia. When I was a kid, I was really unhappy with myself and my surroundings. So I created my own little world for me to, well…live in. I created a new place, and fresh new images of me."

"So what you’re saying is that you have alter egos from your childhood?"

"Yeah, pretty much. But I want them to go away…but then again, I don’t. But they torture me! Ugh! I want people to know who I really am, but I’m shy and stuff. I’m insecure, you know?"

"Yes…I know exactly what you mean." Margaret had some experiences like that herself sometimes. "Just…hmm. On your next record, make sure it’s David who’s doing the singing and such. Make sure that the public sees David how he really is. Make sure it’s David who sings onstage at the concerts."

"Oh, Margaret, you make it seem so easy! But you are right. This is an excellent plan…God, I wish Angie would stop making me do all this trash with alter egos and weird stuff." He sat up.

"Can’t you ignore her?"

"I suppose so."

"Then do that. Go with what you think is best, not what she thinks is best. You are your own boss."

"You’re right, Margaret! Thank you…you’ve helped me." David put an arm around Margaret. "I’m sorry that I made you so scared…"

"It’s okay," she said, patting his back. "I like to help people."

"Awww, you’re so sweet," he said with a smile. He kissed her. "So, what do you think of my idea for my new album?"

"1984 is the best book ever written! It really makes you think. Some of the things that they have in the book we kind of have today, you know. It’s scary! But yes, it’s an excellent idea! Are you planning on doing a musical or something?"

"Yeah, if I can get the rights to it," he frowned. "But Mrs. Orwell doesn’t seem to like the idea so far. Maybe I can convince her soon."

"Well, you are a very convincing person," Margaret laughed.

"Kind of." David looked at the clock sitting next to the bed. "Wow! It’s already past four. Are you tired?"

Margaret rubbed her eyes. "Yes, I am tired. All of that psychiatrist work really made me sleepy!" They laughed.

"Yes, I’m quite the case, aren’t I?" David said sarcastically.

"Oh, my," Margaret chuckled. "Shall we retire?" Margaret thought about Ziggy’s retirement and laughed.

David apparently caught on. "Now, I don’t know if I want to retire David Bowie, because then, who would be left?" They laughed some more.

"Oh, let’s get some sleep!" Margaret smiled. David got up and turned off the overhead lights.

"Good night, love," David said. He got under the covers with Margaret and turned off the nightstand lamp.

"Good night. Sweet dreams," Margaret said.

"You can bet on it." They closed their eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep.

After about a half an hour, the door opened. In walked Angie. She turned on the lights and saw that David and Margaret were sleeping. "Awww, isn’t that sweet? I’ll go in the other room." She shut the door and went to the other room, entering from the hallway.

"Ah," she said to herself. "Sleep!" She threw herself onto the bed, which was still quite damp. "What the…ew!!!!" She shrieked. "Nasty!" She got up. "Ew, ew, ew! EW!!!!" She attempted to rid herself of the dampness, but it wouldn’t go away. "Oh well, I’ll just change and go over to Rick’s place."

---This page last modified: 29 Jun 2002--

-Ziggy Stardust Scarf (1973)