When I approached the bar manager Mr. Williams about starting an open mic night he readily agreed. The Players Pub has always been a musicians/songwriter haven since the early seventies. So I was tasked with putting together a house band and playing host for the evening. I printed flyers, found the drummer, Keith. a thirty-six year old fireman, fit and solid, eager to live out his rock and roll fantasy. The bass player, Ricky, was a grad student at Depaul, six-four athletic with short blond hair, green eyes, with snake tattoos on his arms. We jammed together a few times before the big night to get the feel of each other. The sound was tight and the chemistry was good.
We practiced often leading up to the first night drink craft beer and enjoying each other. We had become quite close over that time sharing our connection, love to, for music.
The night was going well a large crowd of musicians had filled the Players Pub to jam with us Sally Anne had come to watch me perform sitting at a table in front of the stage. About an hour into the night I saw her stroking her cock under the table the head sticking out of her short red skirt. The guys in the band had to have seen too as we shot each other knowing grins. When Sally Anne squirted her white load right there on the pub floor. The guys nearly lost their composer but the band powered through.
When the night was over we were hanging out in the green room drinking beer and relaxing celebrating a successful night. Sally Anne made her way past security entering the green room and we broke out laughing we couldn't help ourselves. when the pub closed I invited Ricky and Keith over to our apartment around the corner to continue drinking.
Sally Anne was still pouting over us laughing at her and seemed annoyed I had invited them over. After we walked the short distance to our apartment I open everyone a beer except Sally Anne who said she was going to bed slamming the bedroom door behind her. A moody bitch just like me.
