“Thanks.”“You want to work on something new?” Eddie asked Joe.“Sure,” Joe grinned.“It’s sort of a Bolero song. So start quiet Jane.”“Okay,” her excitement palpable in that one word.“We’ll work on the music, then I’ll grab my notebook.”Joe nodded. Business as usual, though sometimes Eddie would find a riff and improvise lyrics. Usually when it was just the two of them.Eddie continued on a roll. The song was really good. When Eddie grabbed his notebook, he turned on the deck that would record things ambiently. Working through the board would come later, for actual recording.Jane was definitely affected by Eddie.“Want to go upstairs?” Eddie grinned at Joe.“Sure,” Joe grinned back.An elevator took them up to the top floor. A huge master bedroom, a large bathroom, an office. Eddie’s and Rachel’s space.Once in the bedroom, which had a king sized bed, Celia immediately stripped. “Get naked, wimp. Where’s your fucking cornholer?”“Bottom drawer,” Eddie swallowed, gesturing to the closest chest. Okay, maybe it’s not so bad.” I took a few steps back and inspected him. I had to nod my head in approval. His cock was even more impressive as a stand-alone unit. Against the black fabric it seemed to float in the air in front of him like it was disembodied: nothing but cock – the perfect cock, MY perfect cock – I thought. I loved the thought and the visual impression. I moved up to him and pressed my body against his, and I went up and down on my toes as much as I could in my heels, so that his dick rubbed against the chiffon. I took his hands and put them on my bum. I put my arms on his shoulders and kissed him. “Wear them for me?” “Okay. For you.” We were on our way to Canada and the Troubadour Lounge by nine o’clock that night. Charlie drove Amy’s big Ford LTD again, and I sat up front with him because it seemed like the natural order of things. The windows were down, the air was warm, the beers were cold, and the tunes were cranked. Amy and I had tried to argue for having the.
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