One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer
One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer
Hey mister bartender come here
I want another drink and I want it now
My baby she gone, she been gone two night
I ain't seen my baby since night before last
One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer
And then I sit there, gettin' high, mellow
Knocked out, feeling good and by the time
I looked on the wall at the old clock on the wall
By that time, it was ten thirty daddy
I looked down the bar, at the bartender
He said, "Now what do you want Johnny?"
One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer
Suddenly he burst out laughing. "Whadda ya say should we Jonny?"
Well my baby she gone, she been gone two night
I ain't seen my baby since night before last
I wanna get drunk till I'm off of my mind
>
One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer
Jon grinned and signaled the bartender. "One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer for each of us."
The bartender shook his head as he walked away to fill their order. Seemed every time that song played some idiot felt he had to order the drinks in the song. Looked like tonight he was going to have two of them. The bartender rolled his eyes thinking, and long-haired ones at that. He got the three requested types of alcohol and returned to where the two men were sitting placing the beers and two glasses in front of each man.
"Enjoy," he said then went to serve his other customers.
Jon picked up a glass and turned to Richie. "Start with the bourbon?"
Richie shrugged and downed the drink without stopping. "You gonna join me or sit there all night?"
Jon laughed and picked up his glass. He quickly downed the bourbon then grabbed the whiskey and swallowed that down just as quickly. The strong alcohol burned going down, Jon fought the urge to shudder. He grabbed his beer and drank half without stopping.
Richie looked sideways at his partner. He knew Jon didn't normally drink hard liquor and could just imagine how hard it was for him to toss it down like that. He still remembered his first time drinking like that. He laughed inwardly then leaned closer to Jon.
"What's the matter Bongiovi, too strong for you?"
"Not at all, the singer said draining the last of his beer. "Hey bartender, another round for me and my friend." Jon wasn't about to let Richie get the better of him.
"Come on drink up Richie you're behind."
"Can't have that," the guitarist said laughing.
Countless rounds later the two men decided they had enough. Neither one was in any condition to drive and it was a good thing their hotel room was only a block away. They walked down the sidewalk with their arms thrown over each other's shoulders.
"How much farther?" Jon asked stumbling forward.
"Bout this much more I think," Richie laughed trying to navigate the sidewalk.
"OHHH WE'RE HALF WAY THERE! OHH OHH LIVIN' ON A PRAYER!" Jon was singing at the top of his lungs at two twenty-three in the morning.
"Shhhhh, you'll wake everyone up," Richie giggled.
"TAKE MY HAND WE'LL MAKE IT... I SWEAR!" Jon turned his head to Richie. "Really take my hand...we need to hold hands."
Richie shook his head at Jon's silly antics and took hold of his hand.
"TAKE MY HAND WE'LL MAKE IT... I SWEAR!" Jon bellowed out once again.
They were near the front entrance to their hotel when the police cruiser pulled up. Richie tried to steer the bellowing singer into the building but he wasn't quite fast enough. A big burly officer walked up to them and stood quite close, his hand resting on his holstered gun.
"Do you two know you are disturbing the peace?"
"Nope, but if you start me off I may remember it." Jon giggled.
"Don't get fresh with me young man or I'll run you in." The officer growled.
"I dunno I can run pretty fast," Jon said laughing.
Richie clamped his hand over Jon's mouth. "Excuse my friend officer he had a little bit too many drinks."
Jon pulled Richie's hand away. "I....did not....well...okay but he did too."
"Where do you two belong?" The officer asked.
"Jersey," Jon laughed.
"No Jon, we are staying here," Richie corrected him.
Jon frowned. "I don't wanna sleep out here."
The policeman was getting quite upset with what he took to be a smart-ass. He looked directly at Richie, knowing full well that the guitarist had been drinking heavily also.
"I suggest if you are staying at this establishment you both get inside and off my streets."
"I didn't know this was your street," Jon yelled as Richie pulled him in through the door of the hotel.
"Hey where do we sleep?" Jon asked Richie.
"In a bed," the guitarist answered.
"No beds here," Jon said scanning the lobby of the hotel. "Maybe we should have gone with the man out there. Maybe he had a bed."
"No, we got a bed here," Richie insisted.
"Where?" Jon asked.
Richie paused and scratched his head. "I dunno."
Jon looked over at the registration desk and spotted the lone female desk clerk working there. He grabbed Richie's shirt and pulled him closer, his lips inches from the guitarist's ear.
"Ask her," he said forgetting to whisper.
"'kay." Richie left Jon standing there and walked up to the desk. "Can you help?" He asked the brunette behind the desk.
The clerk looked up; she had immediately recognized both the singer and guitarist and was trying to be professional and not laugh at their drunken antics. She calmly told him the numbers for their two rooms. He thanked her then turned around to go back to Jon but the singer was gone.
"JON!" He yelled.
"What?" Jon answered.
"Where are you?" Richie called.
"Here."
"I can't see you," Richie wailed.
"Open your eyes," Jon giggled.
"They are open! I still can't see you."
"I'm right here," Jon said as he leaned sideways and became visible from behind a large support column.
"What are you doing down there?" Richie asked seeing Jon sitting on the floor.
Jon looked around and shrugged his shoulders. "Sitting?"
"Yeah, but you should get up and come with me." Richie told him.
"Come with you?" Jon giggled. "Sounds like fun." He got to his knees then reached out a hand to Richie. "Help me?"
Richie extended his hand and after a few tries Jon was finally back on his feet. Somehow they managed to get inside the elevator. Richie went to push the button for the 4th floor but Jon got there first and pushed all the buttons. When the elevator stopped on the second and third floors Jon attempted to get out but Richie stopped him, holding him by the back of his shirt.
"Not yet we go on number four," Richie said.
"You sure?" Jon asked.
"That's what the girl said."
"Who told her?" Jon asked.
Richie shrugged. "She's smart I guess she knows everything."
Jon frowned, trying hard to remember what he wanted to say but it wouldn't come to him and when the elevator stopped on the next floor Richie propelled him forward. Together they half walked, half stumbled down the hall to Jon's room.
"Is this where we sleep?" The singer asked.
"Think so. You got a key?" Richie responded.
Jon dug down in his pockets. He pulled out a crumpled wad of paper bills, a guitar pick, some coins, a condom, a pocket knife and some notes; handing them to Richie as he did. Eventually he came up with his room key. "This?" He asked dangling it in front of Richie's face.
"Uh huh," The guitarist nodded, his hands full of the items Jon had pulled from his pockets. "Unlock the door."
"How?" Jon giggled."
"For god's sake stick it in the hole!" Richie said.
A few attempts at putting the key in the keyhole finally got the door opened and they walked into the room. Richie tossed his handful of things on the bedside table and flopped down on the mattress.
"You sleep here?" Jon asked seeing Richie sprawled out on the bed.
"Yeah," Richie said yawning.
"Then where do I sleep?" Jon said wandering around the room. He spied the door that connected his room with that of the guitarists; opening it he peered inside. "Who sleeps here?"
"SHIT JON! Shut that door before they catch you!" Richie exclaimed.
Jon slammed the door and turned back to face Richie. "Where am I gonna sleep?" He whined.
"I guess I can share my bed," Richie said.
"Okay."
Jon stumbled and fell onto the bed as he tried to remove his shirt. Richie looked over and giggled but he was having just as much difficulty trying to wriggle out of his jeans and hadn't even bothered to take his shirt off yet. Jon lay back and pulled on the neck of his shirt. It got stuck on his chin so he turned to Richie.
"Come on man, give me a hand."
Richie sighed and stopped struggling with his jeans. He rolled and grabbed the hem of Jon's shirt, lifting it he tried to tug it off over the singer's head.
"Lift your arms," he grunted.
"Like this?" Jon said raising his arms to Richie's shoulders and locking his finger's behind the guitarist's neck.
Richie leaned closer trying to get a better hold on the singer's shirt, their lips a hair's breadth away from each other. Jon's eyes sparkled as if he held some secret there. He puckered his lips and gave Richie a quick peck on the lips.
Richie drew his head back. "What was that for?"
"Because I think I'm getting horny with you undressing me." He ran his hand down to Richie's crotch. "Let's make it baby," he giggled.
"Make what?" Richie asked stupidly.
"Let's fuck," Jon whispered loudly.
"Can we do that?" Richie asked.
Jon nodded. "Uh huh, I think so." He reached down to undo his jeans. "Gotta get clothes off first," he mumbled.
After many struggles they ended up with Jon naked and Richie wearing nothing but a t-shirt. They kissed and fondled each other but that was as far as they could go. In their drunken stupor neither man knew what the next step should be. Richie looked down at the rock hard erection Jon's fondling had brought to his body. He looked back at the singer a mask of puzzlement covering his face.
"Umm.... Jon? I .....aaaa.... why am I.... what do I...how?"
He moved his cock with his fingers trying to bend it back downward, frowning when it sprang back up upon his release. "It's stiff. I think something's wrong." He whispered to Jon.
Jon reached over and tried pushing Richie's cock back down between his legs.
"Ouch!" The guitarist yelped.
"You...umm... maybe you should get that looked at." He looked down at his own lap. "Hey look! Mine is too. Think we're supposed to be this way?"
A look of inspiration came over Jon's face. "Wait a minute." He rolled off the bed and onto the floor, picked himself up and stumbled around the room mumbling. "I got it somewhere."
He opened the drawers in the bureau but they were all empty.
"Got it!" He walked over to his suitcase and rummaged through the clothing. Frustrated and unable to find what he was looking for he started to throw the once neatly folded clothing onto the floor mumbling. "It's gotta be here."
His search revealed nothing. Richie lay on his stomach on the bed watching Jon as he stumbled around the room looking for what, Richie had no idea. A tour of the closet, including Jon walking in and bumping his head on the rod for hanging the clothing, brought him back out empty-handed.
"Must be in the bathroom," the singer mumbled.
"Whatcha lookin' for, Jonny?" Richie yelled.
"Help. I'm lookin' for help," Jon yelled back.
Richie sighed and got off the bed. He found Jon standing in the bathroom in front of the toilet. "You have to pee?"
Jon frowned. "No why?"
"You said you need help. I thought...." Richie's voice trailed off.
"Not with that! We need help fucking or at least maybe it will explain what to do with these." He grabbed his cock and stroked Richie's making the guitarist groan.
"That's it! I remember!" Jon said excitedly.
"You do?" Richie asked arching up into Jon's stroking hand.
Jon released Richie and tried to run to the phone, staggering and stumbling along the way. He fumbled with the phone but eventually got it up to his ear. Somehow he managed to press the right button and got connected to the front desk.
"Give me David's room," he said. After a pause he said, "Whadda ya mean, David who? David...... I know he's in this hotel now connect us please."
He listened to the voice on the other end. "Huh?" Covering the mouthpiece with his hand he turned to Richie. "They said there are a few David's here. Does he have a twin?"
He blinked then squeezed his eyes tightly shut. After a second or two he slowly opened them, squinting he looked intently at Richie. I swear there are two Richies.
He looked at the phone in his hand then spoke into it. "Hey lady, you got a couple of Richies too?"
Richie realized they needed David's last name. "Bryan, Jon. Ask for Bryan."
"I don't know no fuckin' Brian. I want David!" Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. "David has what I need," he said quietly.
Richie's eyes got big and round, he stuck his lip outing a pout. " I thought I had what you need."
Jon was getting frustrated. He knew what he wanted. He knew what he needed. He just didn't know how to find it. "Oh shut up!" "David has the book," he mumbled. Turning back to the phone he shouted, "lady get me David's room."
"BRYAN," Richie yelled out.
Somehow the girl at the front desk finally understood what room the drunken nut on the other end of the phone was trying reach. She told him she was putting him through then said goodnight.
"Goodnight baby," Jon said as he hung up the phone.
Richie stood over next to the bed scratching his head. "Jon? Did you just call David baby?"
Jon frowned, thinking hard about who he'd been talking to. "Nooooo, why?" He answered.
"Jon you fuckin' idiot," Richie laughed. "You just hung up without getting Dave."
"Why do we need Dave?"
Riche took a big breath and let it out in an audible sigh and fell backwards onto the bed. "I wanna fuck."
"Then let's," Jon said climbing up on to the king-sized mattress. He sat on the bed next to Richie. "So...umm... what now?" He looked down at Richie's rigid member. Running his fingers up and down he said, "So... this...um... thing. What do we um... do with it?"
"I dunno, It didn't come with instructions," Richie giggled.
Something jogged loose in Jon's alcohol fogged brain. He grinned then tried to snap his fingers. After multiple attempts that failed miserably he rolled off the edge of the bed.
"Dave. Gotta call Dave." He went over to the door and flung it wide open. Sticking his head out into the hallway he screamed. "David! Where the fuck are you?"
While he waited for an answer he waved at the two elderly ladies who walked by. They turned their heads, embarrassed to see a naked man standing in the open doorway.
"David!" He yelled again.
Three doors down David opened and poked his head out of his room. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What?"
"Where's my fuckin' books?" Jon bellowed.
David rubbed his hands over his face. He scratched his head and wondered why in the world Jon was standing naked in the doorway. "Books?" He asked.
"Yeah books." Jon said. "My Playboy, my Genre and most importantly my Microsoft Fuckin' For Dummies."
Richie couldn't believe Jon was standing naked for anyone to view. "Jon come back in here!" He yelled.
"NO! I want my books. He has 'em I want 'em."
"Oh those books. I'm sorry Jon. I think I left them at Tico's. We were trying position number 21."
"Well then fuckin' go get them cause I can't even remember number 1." Jon said.
"I can," David told him.
"You can? Well, Richie has this... this thing... a pole like thing... stiff too. We tried to bend it back down but...well... Richie said it hurt and it keeps popping up. What do we do with that?"
"Wait let me come on over and give you instructions." Dave said yawning.
Jon turned back into the room and looked at Richie. "Dave's gonna come show us. Okay?"
"NO!!!!!" The guitarist yelled.
"Well then should we walk over there?" Jon asked as he started out into the hall.
Richie scrambled off the bed as best as he could and grabbed Jon, pulling him backwards and impaling the singer on his rigid cock. As it forced it's way in Richie shouted. "I remember!"
"Fuck Rich... that hurts!" Jon grunted. "I dunno man.... you sure this is right?"
"Fits," the guitarist grunted.
Dave walked across the hall, book in hand. "I found it. Tico didn't have it after all." He looked into the room and spied the two men standing connected back to front. "Ooooooo position number 9! Now you gotta move in and out." He opened the book and showed it to Richie.
"Get outta here," the guitarist grunted looking down at the book. He began to move in and out like David had said but Jon cried out in pain.
"Ouch! You sure.....this.... right?'
"That's what the book says," Richie answered still moving.
"Hell, Richie. I don't care what you think you read. L... look again.... this...I don't think.... s'posed to go there."
Richie let out a his breath in a huff and picked up the book. He shoved it under Jon's nose. "See?" He said triumphantly.
"Yeah, well..... it fuckin' hurts."
"Feels good to me. Stop whining and give it a chance." Richie growled.
"Read it again," Jon begged.
"I did... nothing says it shouldn't hurt." Richie pumped Jon's ass a few more times. "I'm doing it right."
"Well...let me get where you are... you get in my place....and."
"Bit pointless now..... no sense...two sore asses." Once again Richie looked over to the book. "Look Jon....book shows you should bend over... do it."
"Okay," the singer said rather unhappily. "Like this?" He asked, bending forward and placing his hands on his knees.
"Uh huh," Richie answered pumping in and out unsteadily.
"Oh shit..." the guitarist said.
Jon lifted his head and tried turning to see Richie. "What?"
"Um...nothing.... just...don't worry it's okay." Richie didn't want to explain to Jon he should have been prepped first to lessen the painful entry. He looked down to where his cock kept disappearing into Jon. "That's it man, getting easier now." He threw the book aside. "See we don't need the dumb book. This is a piece of ass...er I mean cake."
His strokes began to hit Jon's prostate, he squirmed a bit. "Rich...I...think...yeah... th... that's it!" He moaned appreciatively.
Richie giggled. Pleased with himself he kept working away until he released his load.
"Um... Jon... I think I... I... um....sorry man. I knew I shouldn't have had that last beer." He pulled out of Jon, he face red with embarrassment.
"Beer," Jon said turning around, his erection standing tall. "What's beer gotta do with this?"
"I um...I," he lowered his voice down to a whisper. "I had to...I must have... I think I pissed man."
"Ewwwwww, why didn't you go before we left home?"
"Left home months ago," Richie mumbled.
"Well," Jon said standing with his hands on his hips. "Did you go?"
Richie scratched his head and looked dumbfounded. He shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno...can't remember."
"Did you?" Jon insisted.
"Um...yeah.... I think so."
"Okay then," Jon nodded and wiped at the fluid running down his leg. He brought his hand to his nose and took a good sniff. Brightening he laughed. "You didn't piss! That's not piss!"
"It's not? What is it then?" Richie asked.
"Think it's called come." Jon said.
"What's it for?" Richie asked in a loud whisper.
"Think you're s'posed to drink it," Jon whispered back.
Richie looked down at his limp cock. "I think I'm all out." He flicked it with his finger. "Yep empty." Looking over at Jon's stiff rod Richie grinned. "You got some I bet."
Jon looked down at his own rigid member. "Yeah but I can't reach it," the singer moaned.
"I bet I can," Richie said grinning. "I can suck it out then give it to you by mouth."
"Cool! Go for it." Jon settled back on the bed grinning happily.