The last song of the gig was the biggest hit we'd had, we'd called it, "Juicy Lucy" and it had become an anthem for teenage girls all over the world.

About six hundred of them had packed into the hall to see what was billed as our last ever concert, at least it was the last until after the trial of our bass guitarist and we knew how long he'd get.

He'd go down, that much was certain, but we'd seen him go down thousands of times, usually on some little groupie after a show in our dressing room!

The trouble is though, we'd thrown a pretty wild party in our hotel suite after a particularly successful gig and the police kicked the doors in just as the horny little twins were enjoying a sexy wet kiss with each other, he might've got away with just that little bit of sibling friendliness except that Lily was sitting on his face and Lesley was impaled on his huge, thick cock.

The drummer was arrested too, but let off after it was discovered that the girl in his bed was actually sixteen, (the age of consent in Britain.)

To say he was lucky would get you a smack in the mouth from him because she'd assured him she was fourteen!

The lead guitarist was out of it through cocaine and the two girls who'd been hoping to share his bed were entertaining each other in the bathroom, so he couldn't be touched either.

The rhythm guitar man was in another bathroom having a piss and promptly leapt from the window into the swimming pool where he stayed, shivering until it was all over and watched as his two fifteen year old companions were put into the back of a police car to be reunited with their "caring" parents!

Me? I was luckier than any of them, my two young friends had been on the balcony, amusing me by seeing who could piss the furthest and had seen the cars screeching to a halt outside.

It took them just seconds to sweep up all their clothes, throw me a very damp and aromatic little g-string and scramble into a double wardrobe, by the time two huge coppers stamped into my room, it was in total darkness and I was snoring loudly.

At first they'd been all mouth and trousers, very sure of them selves, they'd looked under the bed, in the wardrobes, the en suite bathroom, even in the massive trunk where I kept my stage clothes, but they found not a thing and eventually apologised, leaving me wondering just where the fuck my horny little nymphs had gone!

"Have they gone yet?" came from the wardrobe, the very same wardrobe I'd watched the copper looking into, he'd even got down onto his knees and looked around in vain!

"Fucking hell, that was close Jerry" one of them announced cheerfully as she opened one of the long leather coats and disentangled herself from around the hanger.

Another coat parted and her friend appeared two from around another coat hanger,

"I'll say it was close" she laughed, "If he'd have looked up, he'd have been staring straight into my pussy!"

I've never been one to spoil a party, so being a gentleman, I took both the little darlings back to bed again and only just got them up in time for school the following morning!

That was six weeks ago and the poor bastard's been in custody ever since, the gutter press called us child molesters, fucking hell, the writers of that fucking garbage should come to one of our gigs and watch these "children" they should see how they dress, micro mini skirts, thin tee shirts, off the shoulder vest tops, half of them don't wear panties and them that do wear the bloody things, take them off and throw them at us!

It's always been a big thing at our gigs, that we recruit our dancers from the audience before the shows, we let our roadies pick a few out and they can then see the whole show from the cages we put them in above the stage, we pay them a few pounds each and we get to look up between their legs all throughout the show!

Most of them end up in bed with us afterwards, 'cos it's what they want, our parties are legendary, the whole fucking world knows we take drugs, name me a rock band whose members don't take them and I'll tell you all about my affair with mother Theresa!