The song clattered to a ragged conclusion. In the sudden silence, I realized all the other band members were glaring. Janis looked like she was going to throw a drumstick at me after I'd stepped on her ending. I couldn't blame them. If I'd worked for James Brown, he'd have fined me three weeks pay for all the mistakes I'd made during the last set.
I looked out into the hall. There was my problem, a few feet away from the stage. A young man, tall with curly black hair and flashing blue eyes, was sitting with his elbows resting on the back of a chair and his legs spread wide. His name was Kevin. Remembering what he'd done to me during the last break, all I could think about was his tight blue jeans, his open legs and what he had between them. "Dammit, Tracy!" I thought to myself. "Focus!"
The applause died down. Even with me fucking up endlessly, we were still pretty damn tight! "Thank you! Thank you so much," Nancy said. "It's so great playing Yellowstone!" She stood up from the digital keyboard we used for a piano, picked up the hand microphone and moved to stage left. "It's past closing time, but we're going to do one more. This is one Tracy and I wrote."
I put my guitar in its stand and sat down at the keyboard, desperately trying to concentrate. This was where I got to show off all my years of classical lessons and I didn't want to blow it. Blow it? Stop!
"Tracy Neumeyer on piano," Nancy said softly as I began to play. My fingers caressed the cool smooth keys the way they'd stroked the silky warm flesh of Kevin's penis an hour before. I glanced at the phallic microphone on its boom, suspended inches from my lips. Oh no!
Somehow, my seething lust made me focus on the music. I attacked the opening passages with gentle ferocity, bringing out the melody line with quiet intensity. It was so erotic! The digital piano was nice, but nothing like the grand in Mom and Dad's living room. I'd never been able to make it sing like this before!
I'd stolen the introduction from a Rachmaninov piano concerto. After 32 bars, Jame came in, supporting my piano with string lines from her synthesizer. Gurl joined in with her fretless bass as I began simplifying and emphasizing the beat, moving gracefully from classical to rock.
Janis stroked the beat with delicate brushes on the cymbals and snare as Nancy began singing softly and sadly.
It's the end of another show
We're packing up, it's time to go
The crowd is gone, but you're still standing here
No time to talk, we've got to load
A long long way on down the road
Still a chance to snatch some time tonight
Jame stepped back from the synthesizer and began playing graceful rhythm guitar chords. Janis switched from brushes to sticks and played a quick fill as we swung into the chorus.
You look so good, you are so fine
I can't wait to make you mine
Be my groupie boy, I'll be your rocker girl
Be my groupie boy, I'll be your rocker girl
I could feel the dampness of my panties as I touched my lips to the microphone, doubling Nancy's vocal. I knew what Kevin and I were going to be doing after the show. We'd already started. It was hard to believe I'd only met him during the last break.
We dropped back to piano, bass, synth strings and soft drums, increasing the intensity but still holding back.
Long weeks I've been on the road
My guitar is hot, but my bed is cold
I really need to have some one tonight
Kevin was so unbelievably cute and charming. He was older than me, at least 25 to my 20. The band was taking a long break and I'd gone outside to escape the crowd's heat and noise. It was midsummer, but the air was cool and crisp. We'd spoken casually for a few minutes, then he'd taken my hand and led me out into the darkness.
Don't call this a one night stand
It's not something that we planned
But we've got to grab life as it comes
The band slammed into the second chorus, louder and harder this time, all of us singing except Gurl, who was dancing wildly while still playing a perfect bass part.
You look so good, you are so fine
I can't wait to make you mine
Be my groupie boy, I'll be your rocker girl
Be my groupie boy, I'll be your rocker girl
Kevin and I had walked to a clearing about a hundred yards from the hall. It was a moonless night, dark as black velvet. I'd moved gracefully into his arms and lifted my face to press my lips against his.
When our band, Fishnet Barbie, had been booked on a long summer tour, it had seemed like a fantastic opportunity for a group of college music students. Four weeks later, our camaraderie was still wonderful, but I was horny as hell. Janis and Gurl had a white-hot thing going with each other. Nancy could pick up a boy simply by walking through a room. Jame, Nancy's younger sister, was super devoted to her boyfriend, exchanging passionate emails and phone calls with him every day. I was pining away without my lovers Bob and Liz. In their mid-thirties, Bob had spoiled me for boys my age and Liz had turned me on to the joys of woman-woman sex.
With our limited privacy, it was even difficult for me to masturbate. My best opportunities were in the shower, but I always felt hurried. Someone would want to use the bathroom and I'd be interrupted as I approached orgasm. Once, I'd gotten up before dawn and locked myself into the van with my vibrator. I'd screamed as I brought myself off over and over.
Finally satisfied, I looked out the windshield at the rapidly-lightening sky. I cried out in surprise when I saw the man who cleaned the pool standing in front of the van with his stiff cock sticking out of his pants. He continued stroking himself as he stared into my eyes, spurting after a few seconds. He stood there exposed for a long time before zipping up and walking leisurely away. The experience had scared me so badly that I hadn't tried masturbating in the van again.
Jame followed the chorus with a burning synthesizer lead, simultaneously evoking an electric guitar and a saxophone, while I hammered the rhythm on the piano. When she'd finished her solo, we all continued singing into the next verse.
