Supernatural
2012-02-03
After guiding Sonny through his first practice, I sent him home,reminding him to absorb as much as possible out of those GuitarPlayer articles. If he had any questions about something in them hewas to ask me.
That night, I diddled myself thinking about how his magnificent cockfelt inside me just hours earlier. He was going to be at workeveryday through the weekend. Therefore, I would only see him whenhe came over to practice and would have to put a governor on my lustwhen he was here. Friday, he was at the door at 18 a. m. anddutifully carried out the lesson I set out for him. He split to goto work and I beat it for the beach in my blue bikini. I purchasedsome munchies at the convenience store near the strand as well as anorange juice and kicked back on the sand to work on my tan. A couplehours later, I returned home.
Saturday, Sonny and I followed the same routine and, once hedeparted, I drove to the beach again. As I walked down the sand nextto the waterline in my yellow bikini, a mustachioed guy in his late30's, I estimated, wearing sunglasses smiled at me as he jogged by. I smiled back and walked on. A minute later, he was back by my sideasking me if I wanted to hang out at his beach house. I receivedthat positively.
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His name was Warren and he was a middle manager fora major defense contractor. I picked his brain for a little bit asto what that job was like and then he moved in for the kill as wesat on the couch. Facially, he faintly reminded me of Jim, but hedidn't quite have the same intense alpha male aura that Jim did. Nevertheless, he was still pretty hot and II was enjoying himkissing me and stripping my top off of me. He flicked his fingersacross my nipples as our tongues waltzed around each other. He brokethe kiss and asked how old I was. I told him I would be 18 in aweek. That was good enough for him and he led me off to the bedroom,pulled my bikini bottoms off and went muff diving. His probingtongue soon transported me to heaven with several pleasantly jarringorgasms.
I would then notice another difference between Warren and Jim: Jimwas endowed with 8. 5 thick inches. Warren's was six average ones. Butother thanJim making me feel more stuffed, the friction Warren provided by hisinvading soldier was still pretty stellar and he pounded itrelentlessly into me. I left some pretty good scratches on his backas he brought me to orgasmic oblivion, my vaginal muscles caressingand massaging his fuck stick until he filled me to the brim with hisspunk.
He got up to use the bathroom and then padded out to the kitchen,bringing back two glasses of wine.
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I reclined my head on hisshoulder as we sat up in bed, him lightly playing with my left boob. "You're really stunning," he burbled. "Thanks baby," I said. "It'stoo bad you can't stay with me while I'm here," he lamented. "Yourparents would probably freak out. "I don't live with my parents,sweety," I revealed. "I'm emancipated. However, I don't live aroundhere and I have too much stuff to do with my band to spend the kindof time with you you're probably looking for. " "Oh well," he sighed. He finished his glass of wine, took mine from me and put them on thenightstand. He kissed and nibbled my neck and then he encouraged meto rotate my body so that I was on my side and the entire upper halfof it was draped across his lower chest.
He held my shoulders withhis left hand and secured my hips with his right as he continuedkissing me. He slipped a couple of fingers inside of me and strummedmy g spot, the cum he left inside me from our previous bout coatinghis digits while he stimulated me. He restoked the heat inside meand fingered me to a sweet, shuddering orgasm.
I pulled away from him and scooted down the bed to access his dickwith my mouth, lustily rubbing his semi-flaccid member with my lipsuntil he was at full extension again.
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I straddled his body as Igrabbed his spear and shepherded it to my opening. I sunk my hipsand his penis slipped deep inside me. I shook and shimmied my hipsto stir his prong within and quickly worked myself into a hot, horny lather, his rhythm stick scratching my itch and giving rise tointense, prickly sensations that flared into a conflagration ofpleasure, the sound of my screams and moans echoing off the woodenfloor of the room until his balls reloaded and he squeezed off roundafter round of his hot, soupy juice at my cervix.
"Well, this has certainly been a pleasant day!" I giggled as Irolled off of him. He smiled wickedly and seconded my emotion. Werested for a bit and then I made my excuses and left.
The next morning, I got a call in the middle of my lesson withSonny. It was Randy Rhoads to tell me about a jam session at SIR (arehearsal studio complex in Hollywood) he and some of the otherplayers in that area were going to stage that night. Basically, itwould be three fourths of the band that just became known as QuietRiot plus Eddie Van Halen, Steve Plunkett (who was in an outfitcalled Wolfgang at the time---a much better group than his lateraggregation, Autograph, in my estimation) and a few others. I askedif I could bring Joe and he said yes.
I finished with Sonny at just a little after noon and shooed him outthe door. I dolled myself up all in white---leather halter top, miniskirt, thigh high stockings and platform heels. Joe, who had neverheard of any of the people who were going to be there but who wasjust up for a jam, came over a couple of hours later and I made aquick early dinner before we loaded our guitars, amp heads and cabsinto my car and drove to the site. We loaded our equipment in as wekibitzed with Randy and the other Quiet Riot guys. Eddie and Stevestraggled in a little while later, as did some of the others.
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I toldJoe that Randy was one of the greatest guitar players ever, whichmade Randy feel embarrassed. Joe and Randy were playing Les Pauls,Steve an Explorer, Eddie his chainsaw special, me a Strat and therest were varied, including a Hamer and a B. C. Rich Mockingbird. There were also a couple cases of Heineken in bottles to keep us ina good mood.
We loosened up with a blues jam and, when it came my time to solo, Idid a rip of Jeff Beck's "Scatterbrain," which inspired Eddie tojust go off, as he flew up and down the fretboard mixing in weirdlittle vibrato things that were just cool on ice. As the jamprogressed, it inevitably became a headcutting contest and the levelof musicianship on display was awesome. Steve's sense of humor wason exhibit, too, as he broke up the intensity of the battle of thefleet fingers with funny little guitar fills and remarks. Randy andI got into an exchange over part of the Billy Cobham composition Ihad mentioned earlier in this story I shoehorned into Beck's "I'mDown" that brought some exclamations of "Holy shit!" from the otherplayers.
One thing many don't know about Randy was that he could dojazz fusion up a treat when he was in the mood.
Eddie then showed off a song he had recently written called, "Ain'tTalkin' 'Bout Love" which gave me the opportunity to kind of ape hisstyle (neither Eddie or I, though, were doing any tapping). Herolled his eyes, laughed and shook his head.
After three hours of this and all the beer having been consumed, wewere done and everyone parted amid soul handshakes and hand slaps. One of the players I didn't know asked me out, but I turned himdown. He then asked if I had a sister who played, too.
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That waspretty cool.
Afterward, Joe was in awe of what he had seen. "Eddie and Randy,those guys are monsters!" he commented. "Try to remember whathappened tonight," I recommended to him. "It won't be long beforeyou'll be bragging to all and sundry that you jammed once with EddieVan Halen and Randy Rhoads. We'll probably be covering their songsat some point," I analyzed. "And what is scary is that Eddie hasonly given you the barest glimpse at what he can do," I elaborated. "That's hard to believe," Joe guessed.
Monday, Joe and I returned to Hollywood with Sonny in tow, only thistime to make the rounds of the guitar shops there. We had Sonny playdifferent guitars to see which ones felt best in his hands and so hecould get an idea of whether he wanted to buy his first real axe newor used. He also got to hear a wider array of amps than the ones wein the band used.
After I dropped Joe back off at his place, Sonny and I went to myhouse, where I got to ride his big beautiful cock again. It's suchan amazing feeling when my pussy is packed full of dick. When wewere cuddling afterward, he informed me that he wanted to havelonger practice sessions because the sooner that he got good atguitar and maybe make some money with it the quicker he couldabandon his shitty job. I retorted that the desire is all well andgood, but actually having the patience and focus to do it is atotally different thing.
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He swore he would do it, so I upped mylessons and practice sessions for him to three hours. To make itmore fun, I decided after I had him do scale work with a metronomethat I would begin teaching him songs chunk by chunk.
Tuesday, I had to work with Sonny in keeping his hands relaxed andnot pressing too hard when fretting notes. Sometimes beginners havea tendency to almost try to strangle the neck of the guitar, whichkills fluidity and increases fatigue. The last half hour, I taughthim the first section from Deep Purple's "Smoke on the Water. " Whenthe lesson was finished, I sucked Sonny off since that was all wehad time for before he went to work. .
