Supernatural
2012-02-11
The day after Halloween would change my life as Melody forever. Once we tore ourequipment down and stowed it in my house, it still took me until 5a. m. to get to sleep. I slumbered like a rock. . Iwoke up at just short of two in the afternoon, groomed myself andmade a very late breakfast. It was while I was eating it that Derekcalled. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I assumed hewould have moved on a while ago. "Hello?" "Hello love, it's Derek,"he began. "Oh my God sweety, how are you?" I blurted. "Oh, so youremember me then do you?" he laughed. In a flirty tone, I countered,"how could I forget?" We talked about how the band was doing, whatwas going on with him and the state of the world. I notified himthat I was 19 now. "You're rather clever for being so young," hecomplimented.
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He was 28. "Well, now that your band is inactive forthe present, why don't you come to England and see me?" he pleaded. "You can stay at my place while you're here," he elaborated.
"Derek, there is something I have to tell you before we make anyplans in that direction," I averred. "You're not going to tell methat you have a boyfriend now, are you?" "No, I don't. But youshould know that I can't have kids because of a congenital uterinedefect. So if that's a problem we can end this conversation righthere," I proclaimed. "Oh. That isn't a problem to me," he stated. "I'm not really into kids anyway. I don't know if you want a seriousrelationship with me or not, but I thought it would only be fair toinform you in advance so you won't be wasting your time," Ireasoned. "I can't be bothered about children, love, so will youcome?" "Sure Derek. I'll make plans and call you. Give me your homephone number. " He expressed delight that I was going to cross thepond and relayed his number.
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We ended the call a couple minuteslater.
The following day, I walked into a travel agent's office to organizemy trip. I booked it in first class because I could afford it andwould depart exactly two weeks hence on November 16th and stay for amonth. I got back to Derek a few hours later and he was prettystoked. I had already let Jessica in on it. I also recommended thatif I end up being gone any longer than a month I wouldn't be hurt ifthey look for another guitarist or carry on without me.
Between then and my departure date, I woodsheded like mad, learningtons of songs, including tunes off of Tom Petty's debut effort thatwas released a week before I went to England. When I wasn't doingthat, I reconnected with Sonny and Liz and gave both intensivelessons.
On the 16th, Jessica drove me to LAX. I loaded down my suitcase withclothes, including a couple of stage outfits just in case. I broughtmy Les Paul, too, as carry on luggage. The flight was more congenialthan any other airline experience I had in my life. But it seemed totake forever. Finally, the plane descended into Heathrow andDerek and I found each other. He embraced and kissed me and weexited the airport in his car.
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"Are you thinking about seeking a gigwhile you're here?" he asked when he saw my guitar. "If it happens,great, but whatever transpires, I gotta maintain my chops," Iexplained. "Have you dated a musician before?" I interrogated. "No. It's not that I would never fancy one, but the opportunity has neverpresented itself," he posited. "I suppose it would be weird, though. Imagine if another writer slated my girlfriend or wife's performanceand then I saw him in the pub or at a venue. Should I punch him? Itcould be a bit sticky for someone who's in my line of work. " "Well,you'll never have to punch anyone out for me. I can do it myself," Ibragged. "Oooh, beautiful and deadly," he chuckled. That's me," Igiggled.
He pulled up in front of a small house in the London suburbs andshowed me in. It was 18 a. m.
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, but I was hungry, tired and wanted ashower. He led me to his guest room and I left my suitcase in acorner, though I opened it and left it that way for easy access. "What would you like to do for lunch Melody?' he solicited. "I"mopen to anything from fish and chips to Indian takeaway," Iretorted. "Well, fish and chips it is, then" he chimed in and wewent down to a local pub and chowed down on that while drinkingpints of Guinness. "Is this your main hangout?" I wanted to know. "Yeah. I'm gone a lot, so it's nice when I can come back to it," henoted.
"It's like a second home. "
When we returned to his place, we camped in front of the tv. Ikicked my shoes off, laid my head in his lap and basically passedout from the jet lag. He woke me up at seven and asked me aboutdinner. I sat up and apologized for dozing off on him like that andadvised him that anything was fine. He went out and picked up somecurry and I devoured that like a hungry dog. It was a real battlestaying up after that through no fault of Derek's.
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Finally, 18 p. m. rolled around and we called it a night. I took a shower and went tobed, sleeping alone.
I rose at 5 a. m. , took care of my grooming and got dressed. I wantedto surprise him with breakfast, but his refrigerator was prettybarren, as were his cupboards. He was up not long after that. Ihugged and kissed him good morning. Then I asked him about his diet,which mainly consisted, according to him, of a lot of pub and stallfood. "Sorry to nag you sweety, but you know that shit isn't goodfor you," I lectured. "Drop me off at the local supermarket and I'llbuy some stuff so you can start eating real meals," I requested. Helaughed. "The supermarket isn't within walking distance, dear.
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""Well, we can go after you come home from work," I proposed. "Sorryagain sunshine, but I have to cover a club gig tonight. I'll be goneall day. " "That sucks," I remarked.
"Can you take me with you?" I implored. "We can go to the gigtogether, but I can't take you to work with me," He said. "I knowthat," I countered. "I can wander around London while you're at theoffice and then we can go to the show together, if that's okay withyou. I don't want to be in your way, though, so if you say no Iwon't be mad," I insisted. "Well, the gig itself is going to bepretty nasty for a girl like you," he thought out loud. "The toiletsare horrible, too. " "I've seen my share of gross toilets, sweety. And by the gig being nasty, you mean all the spitting?" "Yeah,stupid bastards. " "Well, I'll just stand toward the back andhopefully avoid the worst of it. " "Okay love, but be careful.
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Londonisn't a lot of fun these days. " "Yeah, I've seen the news," I lied.
We set off for central London and took an hour getting there becauseof the lethargic traffic. We dismounted the wheels in a car park(parking lot) and I walked with him up to the front door of thebuilding he worked in. I wandered all over the area over the ensuingfour hours before I met Derek for lunch. We went down to another pubwith his pal Brendan. I told Derek that I had found a half stack Iwanted to buy in a guitar shop in the area before we went to thepunk show. Derek was afraid it would get nicked (stolen) while wewere gone, but I told him not to worry about it. I knew Vishnuwouldn't allow it to happen.
I did a bunch of miscellaneous shopping after lunch and stashed thehaul in Derek's trunk along with the amp head I purchased. Thespeaker cabinet I had to leave in the back seat. We took the tube tothe venue and Derek told a little white lie to get me into the club with him,where he interviewed the band he was writing about, The BorstalFaction ("Borstal" is slang for "prison"). The club itself wasbasically a concrete box with a bar at the back of it. It wasn't exactly the(L. A.
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) Roxy in terms of elegance.
It was a three band bill and thefirst two were dreadful and would ultimately be here today gonelater today. The headliner was, to put it charitably, ramshackle. It was pretty obvious that while they were garnering somepreliminary attention, their songwriting was somewhat ragged andbetrayed an amateurish awkwardness to it.
Oh, and I only got hit twice, that I know of, by flying spittle. Thank God for small favors, huh?
We went backstage, such as it was (it made the cramped backstagearea of the Whisky on the Sunset Strip seem positively palatial bycomparison) and Derek introduced me to the band. "Cor, she's a nicebit, (translation: fuck, she's a nice piece of ass)," the bassist, Ian, blurted. I walked over and picked up one of guitarist Richard's axes, crankedthe practice amp that was there while they looked at me like, "whatthe fuck?" "Hey you lot, you need to fix some of your songs," Ibegan, talking about how the chord progression of their set's first songdidn't resolve properly. " "So now we're supposed to take directionsfrom some chinky boiler ("boiler" = "slut') then?" Richard snarled. I took the guitar off, walked over to him and punched him in thenose, breaking it. Blood came gushing out of his schnozz. The otherband members thought it was hilarious. Derek was mortified. I pickedthe guitar back up and played through the song my way. "Fuck me,that sounds brilliant!" the singer, Jack Auf (cute stage name there,dude.
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Sheesh!). And I did that with another half dozen of theircompositions. The other people milling around, including otherwriters, had their jaws on the filthy bare floor. "So you're goingto want to take some of our money now are ya?" Jack wondered. "Fuckno, dude. I don't need it. . Just remember what I taughtyou," I commanded.
Of course, everyone now wanted to know who I was, but I told them tofuck off. Derek wanted to interview me, but I warned him that ifwhat happened got out it could badly undermine the band'scredibility and I wasn't going to do that to them. So what thescribes mostly wrote about was Richard getting his nose altered bythe "oriental girlfriend" of a writer. Yes, that description isconsidered racist by Asian-Americans "You weren't kidding, love. Youreallycan handle yourself," Derek praised. By the way, that wouldn't bethe only time Richard and my paths would cross unpleasantly
We got back to Derek's at 3 a. m.
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and went to bed. He asked me tosleep with him and, of course, I assented to that. My sleepwear wasjust a plain white bra and cotton panties. I was beingintentionally provocative. He cuddled me and I fell asleep, only tobe awakened a few minutes later by the sensation of Derek undoing mybra and slipping his hands u
nder the cups to fondle me. I rolled overto face him and, after tossing the bra aside. started kissing him. His hard on was pressing against my abdomen through his pajamabottoms. I slipped my hand down the front of them and played withhis engorged dipstick. He reciprocated by groping my wet cunt. "Sweety," I whispered, it's late and we have to get up in not toolong. How about we get right to the main event and skip theforeplay?" I cooed. "You're reading my mind, sweetheart," hechuckled. He pulled my panties off and did the same with his pajamasand speared me with his dick, which felt wonderful. I wrapped mylegs around the middle of his back as I took his ramrod time aftertime inside me.
I soon went off like the Fourth of July, diggingmy nails into his biceps as he pumped his root into my furrow overand over. It was over 18 minutes later, but I had three orgasms andhis cum inside me and was very satisfied with that.
.
