After the Concert: Orgy on the Tour Bus

The show ended at eleven. By eleven-thirty the bus rolled with champagne and the kind of tired that feels like horny. Roadies joked. Dancers traded looks. Somebody locked the curtain and the narrow aisle became improbable real estate for a compact orgy.

Tight spaces force creativity. Group sex here was elbows and knees and grins. The bus rocked for a reason unrelated to potholes. When the engine finally quieted at the hotel pad, everyone agreed the night tour beat the encore.