NSFW Alert! The singer-songwriter confronts a sexual
wizard in a story he calls “Gandalf Goes to the Sex Party.”




Ok, you asked for it. My most
fucked up story:


Back in 1993 I was asked to
play music for a sex party in San
Francisco. I was a fresh-faced, 23-year-old sitting
there in the corner of the room with some cymbals, a hi-hat on my left foot, a
bass drum on my right, a lap steel guitar, accordion, saxophone, and various
other wind instruments cycling through my hands, and a vocal mic with a delay
pedal. My job was to create an ambient soundscape that underscored and also
inspired the participants. It was kind of like accompanying a dance class.


To my right there were three
women with strap-ons trying out a variety of sapphist configurations. Over to
my left there was a woman on her hands and knees with a man behind her and
another man taking advantage of her mouth. There were various groups of folks
fornicating on the far side of the room, but I wasn’t able to see them very
well because directly in front of me, there was a group of about eight men
standing in a circle masturbating. Everyone seemed to be having a great


That’s when he walked in:
some dude who looked like he had just rode his steed over from the Gandalf
auditions for the Lord of the Rings films. The guy was probably in his early fifties. He had long, flowing salt and
pepper hair; a floor-length, hooded purple cloak; baggy velvet pants; a blousy
shirt; and a sash around his waist (he didn’t wear a belt) with lots of little
velvet pouches with drawstrings hanging from it. I don’t think anyone in the
room had noticed him… yet. 


The Cloaked One sauntered
around the room a little bit before finally choosing the circle jerk as his
destination. The circle jerk was welcoming and the participants repositioned
themselves to accommodate him before returning to their vigorous wanking. This
is when Gandalf first made eye contact with me. He had a strangely competitive
expression on his face. He was creepy as hell. Despite the other activities
happening around the room, I couldn’t stop watching this guy, and neither could
all the guys in the circle jerk.


He slowly and deliberately
uncinched one of the velvet pouches hanging from his sash to reveal a small
metal object in the shape of a barbell. It was about three inches long with
1/2″ diameter balls on each end. He held it up for all the participants to see.
Then he reached down, pulled his dick out of his velvet parachute pants, and
held it up for all the participants to see.


This is where things get


Gandalf proceeded to insert
the barbell into his dick hole. Now, this was a pretty kinky crowd, but not
that kinky. The other fellows in the circle winced, as did I.
Being good sports, they all did their best to keep the feeling alive, but
Gandalf didn’t let up. He began to pump the rod in and out of his cock while
looking around the circle to make sure that the others were witnessing his
special talent. And they did, which one by one made them all lose their
erections. It was an awkward moment. The guys didn’t know whether to stay or to
go. It was as awkward as the beginning of a middle school dance when everyone
is sitting there waiting for someone to get up on the dance floor, except these
guys were wondering who was going to walk away from the deflated wankfest
first. Finally someone initiated the exodus and one by one, they peeled away
until it was finally just me, my instruments, and Gandalf, as I was obligated to
accompany this fellow’s antics.


Now here’s the best part:
when all the others had left and The Cloaked One was all alone, he turned to me
and nodded his head triumphantly with a gloating smirk, smug as a preppy jock
in a locker room telling his buddies about how he had boned the homecoming
queen the night before. 


I did my best to keep a
straight face and kept the music going.



Mark Growden’s new album Lose Me in the Sand is out now on Porto Franco Records.



[Photo Credit: Rus Anson.
Story Editor: Randy Harward]




MARK GROWDEN – “I’M ON FIRE” (Bruce Springsteen cover)


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