Music Man Pt. 02

Leaving his baggage in a pile where he had unloaded it, he ran up the steps and she opened her arms for a hug. Her body felt slight and feather-light in his arms, she was very slim indeed.

"Thank you, Catherine," he said into her hair. She was not as tall as he had thought either. "I'm so happy to see you at last."

Between them they picked up his baggage, and she ushered him into the palatial building, cool in the afternoon heat, led him to the kitchen and offered him tea.

"I know you Brits love tea," she said as she boiled a kettle. "So I bought some stuff called 'Yorkshire Tea' – is that OK?"

"Oh yes!" he replied with a smile. "Very OK! I've not had a decent cup of tea for nearly a year."

"You take cream and sugar?"

"No sugar thanks. Do you have such a commodity as skimmed or low fat milk?"

"Why yes!" she replied. "We call it skim milk, or there is 2% milk; it has 2% cream. Are you a health freak?"

"Not particularly," he said, " but I like the taste of tea better without too much cream in the milk. Skim milk will be ideal."

They hit it off perfectly. He asked her why she lived alone in such a large house, and she looked surprised.

"You haven't seen some of the other homes round here!" she said. "This is relatively small, but it has to be big enough to hold parties – essential to my work."

They went out to dinner, Catherine driving. Over dinner she broached the subject of her latest hit song, which he had called Connie. He told her the whole story.

"You going to get her back?"

"Revenge?" he answered, misunderstanding her. "I don't think so."

"No!" she laughed long. "I mean win her back from the slime-ball who's taken her from you?"

"She's made her choice," said Ged. "I have to start afresh."

She let the matter drop. When they got back to the house, she led him to his bedroom, and sat on the bed while he unpacked.

"When did you last get laid?" she asked out of the blue.

"Over a year ago." he answered, surprised at her directness.

"And she's married now?"

"Yep!"

"Time you got a little R & R," she said. "Fancy a fuck?"

Ged stopped in mid fold of a pullover. He turned, his mouth open.

"Pardon?" he said, astounded. She giggled.

"You heard," she snapped cheerfully, "You've not been laid for a year. Me? About six months and that wasn't earth-moving. I like you, and you like me. I'm pretty good looking and you're something to see. Why not?"

He looked at this beautiful woman, and realised that yes, he was free. He did not have to be faithful any more.

"I'd love to make love with you." he said.

"My, that's putting it a mite strongly," she said, "but we can certainly fuck each other's brains out."

"Tell you what," said Ged, smiling now. "You fuck me, and I'll make love to you. See how you like it?"

She smiled and her face lit up.

"Deal!" she said. "You're clean and I've got certificates to prove I'm clean. I'm safe so we can do it bareback."

"That's how I like it!" laughed Ged.

"Leave the unpacking and get naked!" she ordered.

"Wow, Ma'am!" he mimicked a southern drawl. "You sure are feisty!"

"You ain't seen nuttin' yet, mister!" she retorted in kind.

"Exactly," said Ged reverting to his own accent. "I'm the one stripping; you get to see everything. As you say so eloquently: I ain't seen nuttn'."

She laughed.

"One at a time," she breathed with affected sensuality, "I like to see the effect I have when I unveil my treasures."

He kicked off his sandals, pulled his tee shirt over his head, and pushed down his slacks, stepping out of them and standing in his briefs. Then he turned his back and slowly pushed them off his buttocks and down his thighs, and following them down so he was bent over in front of her. He wiggled his bum. She whistled. "Nice butt!"

He turned, and she noticed his penis was beginning to rise.

"For me?" she asked raising an eyebrow, with an interested smile.

"My friend down there appreciates pretty women," he said.

"Keep talking like that and you can stay for ever!" she said. "Sit down."

He obeyed, and she stood up and lifted her tee shirt, revealing a pair of small breasts unencumbered by any bra.

"I don't need one," she said, reading his thoughts. Then she unfastened her skirt and dropped it to the floor. Her panties were pale blue and low rise. She followed his example and turned her back while she began to slowly push the flimsy garment down, bending as he had done so that her pudenda was peeping at him between her straight legs and tight-stretched flattish bottom. Her genitals were shaved and very tidy.

He sank to his knees. "Come over to the bed and lean forward like you are now." he ordered.

She did and he knelt behind her. He put his face to her bottom and began to lick along and up to her rear, which he rimmed before pulling the underside of his tongue down again, then again...

"Oh!" was the only sound to escape her lips, but she opened her legs wider. She mewed as he tantalised her. When at last he licked her clit she yelped and twitched and her knees sagged. Good, he thought, a little 'come'.

He lifted her hips and gently pushed her onto the bed and she climbed further on of her own accord, and lay on her back. He went between her legs and gave her his total oral attention until she cried out and convulsed in her pleasure. A big one, he knew.

"Come fuck me," she gasped and he pushed into her. Her metrical cries marked the depth of his rhythmic burial deep in her, and she gave him momentary smiles. Ged did not speed up, even to his release, but suddenly held still as he spewed into her, and then fell forward, moving slowly as he milked the last of his spending.

"Fuck!" she said as she regained her breath, "I needed that. You're damned good you know."

"And you are superb!" he flattered her, but he meant it.

"Here's to a lot of lurve in the next weeks – you are visiting with me for a few weeks?"

"If you'll let me work, and you sing my songs. I'll stay as long as you can stand me."

"As long as you do me regular until you can't stand up. I could get used to that cock of yours."

"And I your pussy." They both grinned at the coarse language.

He stayed over the rest of August and September. She was a solicitous host and showed him all the sights, took him to parties, wined and dined him, introduced him to various people in the local music industry and even got him appearing on a chat show, to such an extent that he got little writing done.

She left to appear in Las Vegas for a week, and he worked hard during that time since he was not distracted by her insatiable desire for his body. Indeed he had never actually used the guest bedroom!

The two of them put together an album including many of his songs and she got her girl backing singers to help make it. It took three weeks of attempts until it was to their satisfaction. It would be published after Christmas.

At the beginning of October, he began to feel the pull of home, and in mid-November he bade a fond farewell to Catherine (who begged him to return soon) and the West Coast USA, and flew home.

Ged visited his parents and stayed for a week while he recuperated from the jet-lag. They said nothing about Cassie or her marriage, apart from mentioning that she had not contacted them at all while Ged was away.

Then he went back to the flat. He was dispirited as he approached, remembering the wonderful year they had together culminating in their engagement. Now there was an empty hopeless feeling. No matter what her reasons had been for what she had done, her marriage put an end to any hope of reconciliation. He felt a frisson of anger and resentment at her unilateral action.

If he had felt saddened as he approached the flat, lugging his huge cases, he had another setback to contend with. As he approached the door he saw a sheet of paper taped to it. It was a "notice of default" stating that he had failed to keep up his mortgage payments and as a result his bank had applied for and obtained, a repossession order from the court.

He pulled the notice off the door, tried his keys, and to his relief found they still worked. He entered the flat. Behind the door was a mountain of mail. He cleared it and looked up. If he had felt empty on his approach, he felt emptier now: the flat was completely stripped bare.

––

Chapter Thirteen

August the previous year had been a happy time for Cassie, though she missed Ged terribly. She had seen Ged off and had been upset at the time, but thanks to emails, Skypes and phone calls between the two of them she was coping well. She had many friends and visited them, and they her. In addition there was her new job which took up a good deal of her time. She thought perhaps the coming year would pass more quickly than she had thought, and already looked forward to Christmas and South Africa.

She went to the Friday evenings at the Crown when the little group was playing and singing Ged's songs in his absence. She chatted with Viccy, Fred, Ben and Hetty; they were kindred spirits, since they all missed Ged's presence.

It was there that at the end of August she bumped into Zak. It surprised her because she had forgotten that he had left the band. They chatted briefly, but it unsettled her. Somehow he was different: quieter, gentler, and it intrigued her.

The following week he was there again and the week after that. The fourth week he sat down with her and bought her a pint of beer.

"You've changed, Zak," she said, feeling comfortable with him for the first time, she realised. She noted he looked cleaner, more groomed, with shorter hair.

"Yeah," he said, looking her in the eye. "You changed all that. When you caught me with Tracy I knew I'd thrown away the only good thing in my life. What I was doing was stupid. That's why I left the band; they are like quicksand, you sink into that way of doing things with them. I had to get away. So here I am, on the straight and narrow."

She also noted that he drank one pint of beer and that was all.

"You with anyone?" she asked, and had a fluttering of fear she did not understand.

"No," he said, almost sadly she thought. "I was going with someone, but we split. Not because of me this time," he hastened to add, with a ruthful smile. "We just weren't suited for anything permanent."

"You'll find someone Zak," she assured him, laying her hand on his bare arm.

"Yeah, well," he said. "I blew it when I cheated on you." He stood. "Must be going," he said, and left hurriedly. He seemed choked up. It set her wondering.

It was immediately after he had gone she saw the music magazine he had 'forgotten' to pick up from the seat. She picked it up and idly skimmed through it as she listened to the group sing. Then she was arrested by an article on the band's tour. It took up two pages, and the first page assessed the success of the tour and the individual gigs, commenting on the varying responses of the audiences in different countries and different venues within them.

Then came the humorous comments on the band's lifestyle. Their parties were documented for their wildness. Then came a paragraph and a couple of photos.

'Our quiet man, Mr Smith, still keeps clear on the 'smash and grab' parties the others go for, but he's found a girlfriend of his own. Annette, the roadie. You can see they've really got something going on. They're together every night, and she's been seen going to his hotel bedroom in the evenings. You're a sly dog Mr Smith! And you with a girl at home!'

She sat frozen in her place, staring at the photo of Ged with his arm round Annette's waist, and the other of them kissing. She felt deep fear and desperation. They were so far away, Cassie could not reach them. Then she was angry. What did the piece say? She was in his room every night? Her mind was blank, and her emotions running riot.

She roused herself and phoned Cheryl.

"Can I come round?" she asked plaintively as the tears began to fall.

"He's done what?" Cheryl exploded, as they sat with the universal healer of all ills in Britain – two steaming mugs of tea. Brian was out at a meeting.

"He's been fucking the roadie," She repeated the words, as it that would make them untrue. It had the reverse effect.

"Sorry, darling," her friend retorted. "I don't believe it. He wouldn't do that. Who told you this?"

"I saw it in NME," she said. "It was an aside at the end of a report on one of the gigs they did." She threw down the magazine onto the table, and Cheryl read the offending article.

"I still don't believe it," Cheryl asserted. "He's totally in love with you Cassie. There must be another explanation for the pictures."

"I don't know what to think," Cassie said, looking bleakly at Cheryl.

"Well, ask him," said Cheryl.

"I can't just say 'Hey Ged, are you sleeping with your roadie?' now can I?" Cassie smiled at the idea. "That would really show him how much I trust him. Anyway, he'd just tell me not to believe anything I read."

"I know," said Cheryl suddenly hitting on an idea. "Let's ask Judy. She reads all the gossip mags. If anything's going on, they'll have licked it up. If they have, you can tell him it's all over the press, and leave him to explain."

Judy was a university friend who was addicted to all the gossip and celebrity magazines. She talked of little else, to the annoyance of most of her friends, but she was such a good friend that they forgave her her addiction.

It was by now very late, after midnight, but they both knew Judy would still be awake. Cheryl accordingly phoned her, and asked her to research her magazine collection for information on the band's tour.

The results were not encouraging. The more high class magazines had little to say about the band, but the more scurrilous ones made hay of the outrageous behaviour of Joshua, Peter and Amos. There were pictures of them with women in various states of undress at clubs, their hands where they ought not to have been.

Only one magazine mentioned Ged. Referring to Ged as the boring one of the band, it gleefully reported seeing Ged and Annette in compromising situations. The photos were the same ones from the music magazine, but this magazine wrote of a 'long steamy kiss' before the two disappeared into his room 'for the night.'

They listened on the speaker phone as Judy relayed the information, and Cassie resolved to get the offending magazine.

"Don't forget," said Cheryl as Cassie left to go home, "These papers will say anything to get readership. Make sure before you say too much to Ged."

Cassie's mind was in turmoil. She decided to confront him with the press reports and demand an explanation. By the time she had walked home she was angry, and already felt he had betrayed her, but when she sat down with her laptop, she could not bring herself to do it. She dreaded his confirmation of the reports. She feared the end of their relationship, and it was sure that she would end it if he were guilty. So she did not email, but went to bed where she lay tossing and turning for some hours before drifting into a troubled sleep.

Over the weekend she did not contact him. She visited Cheryl again and they talked it through. It cleared her mind somewhat. Ged might not be guilty. The press were renowned for their inaccuracies, and downright lies to get readers. Hadn't Ged himself warned her about this very thing? She needed other sources of information.

It was then that she made her serious mistake. Judy phoned and told her another gossip magazine had picked up on Ged. Much of the information was the same. Cassie said she really needed a more reliable source. Judy thought for a while and then thought of another friend.

Denise was a friend of Judy who had an on-off relationship with Amos. Denise did not mind about him sleeping with other women on his tours, since she took it as permission to sleep around in her turn. Judy contacted Denise and Denise was happy to contact Amos by email and ask him about the band in general and Ged in particular.

Amos asked who wanted to know, and smiled when he heard it was Cassie. Amos had kept in contact with Zak, and had sent the pictures and story of Ged and Annette to various magazines and newspapers. Only a few took it up, and Zak bought each one. Now Amos knew Cassie needed 'proof' of Ged's infidelity, he set out to make sure she got it.

Once back home, Cassie fired up her computer. There was an email from Ged, telling the the usual stuff about the gig – what went wrong, reaction of the crowd etc. No mention of Annette, though she had to be honest, he had mentioned her before.

She wondered how to phrase her suspicions without appearing to doubt him. She sent a reply commenting on what he had written, then stopped and thought for a long time. Eventually she wrote:

The gossip press are talking about you and your Road Manager. Apparently you are sleeping with her on a regular basis! I'm glad you warned me about the press, or I would be out of my mind with worry!

The next night he had replied. He said the usual stuff, this time about the flight to their new venue. He added the note she wanted to read.

Oh yeah, about Annette. You remember I told you she has her partner at home just like me, so neither of us want to join the mad crowd. We spend a lot of time together servicing the equipment and discussing the set-up for the gigs. She has a degree in electronics so we have a lot in common. I'm so glad the press has made the usual wrong assumption! Don't worry, I'm still all yours!

She felt a surge of relief, but it was short-lived as she looked again at the press photographs. They were definitely kissing, and it looked quite intense. Was he lying? Or totally innocent – but the photo? She then knew she needed the extra information.

The next time he skyped her he introduced Annette to her, who assured her she was looking after Cassie's fiancé, and that Cassie had nothing to worry about. All Cassie could see was how gorgeous the other girl was. If Ged thought he was putting her mind to rest, it had the reverse effect.

It was two weeks later when Judy asked to see Cheryl and Cassie together. She had something to show them.

They sat round the dining table; Judy looked solemn.

"You're not going to like this," she said, and put the printouts of some emails before them. They were copies of emails Amos had sent to Denise. She had highlighted the relevant paragraph each time. Cassie ignored the spelling and grammar at which she would have baulked in other circumstance, after all she did edit novels.

The first one.

Hey Denise, you were asking about our friend 'the saint' and his woman on the tour. Platonic? That means no sex, right? That's a laugh. There at it every night, banging away. Even the papers got wind of it.

Second one.

They were in his room all night last night. Shes quite a screemer, that one. Hes got to be good in the sack, the noise's he was getting out of her.

Third one.

Your not going to believe this. Our Anet isnt enuf for him. He got a girl last nite. Young thing. I got them on camera going into his room. I waited two hours! Then got her cumming out. Didnt now the bloke had it in him. She had it in her though! See attachments.

There were two photographs. One showed Ged with his arm round a girl who looked about nineteen going into his room. The printout was not the clearest, but was good enough. Then another showing her emerging. She had that 'just fucked' look, her hair mussed up, her shirt open showing her bra underneath, and she was carrying her knickers. She looked dazed.

Fourth one.

A tart shacked up with Ged and Anet. Photo of them all out for a drink before all three went back to his room. See attach. Cudnt get one near room in case they saw me. All three all night. God that bloke has stamina that Anet must be bi.