Why Frank Sings the Blues

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Younger man learns why there are blues.
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Lazarus
Lazarus
58 Followers

Author's note: This story is true to the best of my recollection although time and my limited, male perspective have clouded the facts.

Working Title: Why Frank sings the blues...

While on the road to discovering religion in its various forms I stumbled upon Spiritualism. To an outsider, the de facto séances seem too bizarre for words but to someone coming from evangelical extremes through Buddhism it was just strange enough to keep me interested. So I became a regular.

Our "church" was in the basement of the ministers' house. The ministers were husband and wife, both ordained as spiritualist ministers who acted as our guides through the surreal, spiritual world. Each "service" started with us seated in chairs in the basement holding undeveloped film against our heart chakra. Some people were actually able to produce astounding images of faces on the film. Mine always looked like a white cat in a snowstorm. After a prayer of protection the lights were turned out and we sat in complete darkness while our guide invited spirits to join us.

As spirits talked to some of us, we would tell our impressions to the group in hopes that the message may be meant for someone there. This frequently involved somewhat cryptic messages and often held only vague symbolism. Regardless of my current skepticism, at the time I believed it wholeheartedly.

Our group consisted of the ministers, and three to five regulars. I was one, Jeanine a divorced single mother in her mid thirties, was another regular. Steve was another college student to come irregularly and a few others whom I cannot now recall. On this particular night, I remember being seated across from Jeanine. She was one of those ladies. One who was attractive but owing to circumstances of life believed herself to not be. She had the most beautiful long red hair and green eyes I have ever seen.

I remember that my visions were not as frequent as the others but on this particular night...

"Jeanine," I asked, "do you have a new love interest?"

"No" she replied. "I see you preparing to be with someone. You are made up and have on a long green satin negligee. You seem to be waiting for someone."

"Do you see who it is?" she asked.

"No" I replied all I have is this image, sorry."

We moved on after that, various people had messages for each of us but I had nothing more. The class ended and once again my photo was blank as it could be. Jeanine had a rather interesting something or other. I did not really see anything in the swirls but some people seemed to make out a face. In my own defense, each of us had "talents." The spiritual guide was not one of my talents, so I rarely had anything of value to offer. But if someone wanted psychometric, then I was one to ask. Psychometrics was the ability to discern something from the energies on an object. I could pick up a watch and tell who owned it by the energy impression on it. Often I could tell something about the previous owner for antiques and such. It really was quite fun to do.

As the meeting ended, Jeanine invited me to coffee. I had nowhere to go so I accepted. We went to the local Denny's and had a nice chat and coffee. During our discussion it occurred to me that she was flirting. After nearly an hour of this I realized that she might actually be interested in me. I have always been slow on the uptake with this sort of thing and to have a woman fifteen years my senior who, in my eyes, was a raving beauty, interested, took a while to comprehend.

Finally after two or three figurative thwacks on my head with a two by four, I got it. She wanted me to ask her out. So I said "Jeanine, are you doing anything Saturday evening?"

"Why no," she answered in obvious relief.

"Would you like to join me for dinner?" I asked.

"That would be lovely," she answered.

"I have a membership to the Playboy club; they have a great comedy act, would you like to see it?"

"I have always wondered what it was like, I'd love to go with you." she replied. And it was set; I told her I tended to dress up for it as the club is very upscale.

As a note, at the time the club was new and by far the classiest place in the Midwestern town in which I lived. It also had the benefit of a genuine nightclub show which no other place had. People tended to overlook the presence of women in bunny costumes serving the drinks. Ok, I was younger then and not so very bright, but I truly believed this was a good place for a date, mainly because they called me Mr. (name omitted) the whole evening.

Not bad for a barely twenty one year old.

Saturday night eventually arrived and I picked her up in my three-piece suit (complete with fake watch fob) armed with a dozen long stemmed yellow roses. I was an incurable romantic and these little gestures went a long way. Off we went, in her car as mine was not nearly as classy. Hers was a yellow 280Z while mine was a red and white Pinto with Scotch Plaid interior (my grandmother gave it to me, I still cannot believe they made one that ugly).

Off we went, and had the loveliest time wining and dining and laughing uproariously at the comedy act. I remember it was an extremely large lady (perhaps 400 pounds) who leaned against a bar stool and told fat jokes all night (which at my present weight are not nearly so funny). Afterwards, she invited me in to her house and we sat on the sofa and talked until 2:00 A.M.

After thwacking me, figuratively, on the head a multitude of times to no avail, Jeanine finally said, "Would you like to spend the night here and NOT sleep on the sofa?" Stunned, I took in her lovely eyes and did the only right thing of the evening; I whispered, "Yes, I would love to" leaned in and kissed her passionately.

Minutes later, I found myself sitting completely naked under her sheets while she "made herself presentable." When completed, she entered the room lit now only by candlelight. She was wearing a shimmering satin floor length negligee.

"I hope this is OK, I know it's not green but..." The smile I was wearing and the tent under the covering sheet said it all as I nodded and took her into my arms. We kissed slowly as she stood by the bed and I was sitting on the side, facing her. Then I began to run my hands up her beautiful body.

Slowly I pulled the hem of her gown up until I caressed her legs, thighs and finally her trim and lovely ass. Soon I discovered that she was "in fact" a true redhead as her red mound came into view. I could not resist kissing it and licking her while she stood there. Her lips poured their approval down my chin as her scent filled my nostrils.

My long tongue lapped at her as she parted her legs and allowed me free

access. I licked and sucked her labia with desire and hunger. My stroking continued faster and faster along the length of her lovely orifice while I tenderly kneaded her ass with my hands until finally, loudly she came, her legs collapsing as her weight fell onto me.

I guided her limp form onto my lap and entered her slowly. She sat on my lap then, my hardness filling her as we kissed and rocked. Our desire soon overcoming reason, neither of us had control, the coupling continued into rocking until she began to quiver slowly at first then more violently as her vagina clamped hard on my member squeezing the will to hold off out of me and forcing me to cum hard and deep splashing inside her.

We collapsed together onto the bed and snuggled for a long time; I stayed inside her as long as I was able. Gradually it became possible to move a little inside and I began to grow while still inside her. I began slowly moving in and out as I grew; each stroke making me harder and filling her once again. Slowly we began a rhythm, in and out with small motions until at last we were well within the throws of passion once again. Now I was pounding deep with my hard member until she cried in passion and she came again quite suddenly. By this time, I was immune and continued on, my youthful body knowing no bounds in its quest to please her.

We continued faster and faster, slowly in and then nearly all the way out; pounding to the hilt and withdrawing over and over again through her orgasm and beyond. Rocking and bringing her to yet another crowning orgasm, a fourth for the evening, which in turn caused mine to begin, I came hard filling her as I throbbed and we collapsed on the bed.

We cuddled until we both fell asleep.

In the morning I awoke to the smell of eggs, bacon and coffee as I was

treated to a wonderful breakfast. We kissed and cuddled some more as I was quickly prepared for my departure before her teenage daughter arrived home from a friend's house. There were obvious man remnants that needed to be cleansed, etc. I kissed her deeply and departed.

Part of the benefits of Playboy Club membership included a subscription. This month's edition had an article in which several famous people were interviewed and asked, "If you were stranded on an island and could only have five albums to listen to forever, what would they be?" I remember reading Burt Reynolds' responses. I owned all but one of the albums he mentions and since the other four were my favorites, I decided to buy the fifth on his advice. It was Frank Sinatra's Songs for Swinging Lovers. I loved it so much I recorded it on tape and played it now on my way home from a lovely evening.

The next day we talked on the phone and made plans for meeting the following Friday night. This time we assured one another, we would not waste time chatting but rather do that which we found worked so well together.

Friday eventually arrived and I showed up at her doorstep with another bouquet and a box of candy. She appeared at the door, a vision of loveliness, dressed in a long dressing gown covering her negligee. A candlelight dinner was ready on a small table in her living room. My favorite drink was prepared. It was perfect. I had brought my new album and put it on the player as we settled down for a romantic evening.

Frank, crooning in the background, drinks, candlelight, and a stunning redhead gazing into my eyes; I don't recall the food or the conversation. After dinner, I helped clean up and we were quickly on the couch snuggling next to one another. Soon we were kissing like teens in the back of Daddy's Ford. Our tongues played that marvelous tag as we became unbearable hot. I began to shed my clothes as she merely removed her robe. In memory, the actions were perfect; we kissed and held one another in the most memorable type of embrace.

Our passion barely contained, we danced, and we kissed, and explored one another's bodies. Her breasts were soft and full, with nipples jutting at precisely the perfect angle for me to bend down and suck into my mouth. Her lovely ass was the perfect shape to fill my hands as I sucked her nipple deep inside. Still dancing and standing in the living room, she, like most women, apologized for her body, the rigors of childbirth, etc. I have never been a fan of the bony types on the fashion scene. I prefer my women to be women, not skinny children. Her curves showed the passion and fertility of life.

She was perfect.

Eventually we found ourselves in the bedroom once again. We were naked, but none of the awkwardness of getting undressed was there. It just happened seemingly while we danced. Our dance continued onto the bed. We flowed like two lovers oblivious to the world, seeing only each other and hearing only the sounds of music and passion. Without really realizing it, I was inside her. I filled her as if I was meant to be a part of her forever. She wrapped her legs around me and urged me deeper until I fill her no further.

We stayed like that, me filling her completely, arms and legs in embrace, kissing deeply and passionately. Our bodies rocked as one; there was no pounding as withdrawal seemed unnecessary, only small movements as we rocked in passion.

Slowly the passion consumed us. It grew of its own accord. Our movements continued, as we were lost in the kiss/embrace. As each moment passed, our coupling continued and the passion grew with the slow rocking of our bodies until it consumed us entirely. We came as one; only the orgasm was powerful enough to break our kiss as we gasped in animal pleasure. I filled her and her body drank its fill each contraction by our bodies continuing the dance that began with Frank.

We cuddled and held one another; I stayed inside her until we both fell asleep.

We awoke early and filled with the passion from the night before began to ravage one another for breakfast. She climbed on top of me and fiercely thrust herself on my rock hard member. Her body rocked fiercely as she sought pleasure once again. I was unable to do anything but please her and hang on as the animal ride rose in its intensity. She rocked and rode me like a professional bull rider, and my bucking was uncontrollable.

Thrusting herself down on me, she was much harder than I would have been. She continued pounding down over and over again, impaling herself in an animal frenzy. Until at last she bared her teeth and screamed out as she came, flooding my prick with her juices while her muscle clamped tightly down, forcing my own orgasm to immediately follow. I filled her as best I was able and collapsed as she fell on top of me and we snoozed a little.

Once again, the routine continued, I was fed, and ushered quickly out of the house. Once safely on the road, I popped in my favorite tape. And heard Frank say something to the effect of this affair never will go so well.

The next time we could get together was not until two whole weeks had passed. By then, I had built up a fairly intense level of testosterone. I arrived as usual with my flowers and a beverage this time. She greeted me wearing only a long t-shirt, pulled me quickly inside and began pulling my clothes off. What followed was pure animal passion. With her help, I was quickly undressed and she lost the shirt.

We never made it to the bedroom, instead, we dropped to the floor where we kissed and petted one another until the smell of our lust filled the air. My cock was dripping with readiness and she was flowing freely down her thighs. She rolled over onto her stomach and raised her ass in the air. Her perfect labia presented a prize that no male of any species could pass up; her luscious lips, ripe and engorged with blood, were wet with desire. The scent of her readiness was filling the air.

I took her in the manner of dogs. I began pounding myself deep inside her with animal abandon. Each thrust obscenely slapping her ass with an unmistakable sound. Our juices were soon flowing and pouring down her thighs as the pace intensified. Even a young man cannot take that sort of animal passion very long; and given the buildup, I came inside her hard, and a lot. I filled her to over flowing with cum as it gushed around my cock as it was still impaled inside her. My cum, mixed with her nectar, flowed down her thighs. We collapsed in a heap on the floor until we were able to move again.

We straightened ourselves up and greeted one another more formally. This date was after dinner so we had nothing left to do but adjourn to the bedroom where we began a much softer approach. I began to knead her shoulders and ease the tension from them. She sighed and at my gentle urging, rolled to her stomach. I began a sincere and somewhat experienced back rub from her head to her lovely toes. She seemed to enjoy the foot massage most as I worked her body over with the casual ease of a person whose sole desire is to give pleasure. The second or third time up and down her body her legs began to part and I could see and smell that she was ready for a bit more than a rub. I straddled her thighs and continued rubbing her back as my now hard cock rubbed against her ass and between her thighs.

Without effort she raised herself just enough as I was working on her

shoulders for me to slip inside her. I continued to rub her neck, shoulder and back while maintaining an easy rhythm of my cock in and out of her wet vagina. I stroked her back with my hands, from her ass up to her neck, in rhythm with each stroke of my rigid cock rubbing her insides. Without my knowledge of an impending event, I came and to my surprise she came immediately thereafter. I had been so intent on the back rub; I did not realize either of our passions had risen to that level.

I pulled out slowly and lay down beside her. Gazing at her resting face, fresh in the glow of sex and gradually succumbing to sleep.

The morning was much like the others, I hurriedly dressed and recovered all evidence of my presence and kissed her deeply before rushing out the door.

Once in my car, Frank welcomed me once again.

Our next meeting was the following Friday night. We decided to go out to eat and met at a lovely but nondescript local restaurant. We had drinks, good food and laughter a plenty then returned to her house. By then I had become quite used to driving her car and at her urging gave the 280Z a fairly good road test as it screamed down the freeway.

This meeting was so familiar and casual, the urgency gone; we discussed our week's events while casually getting undressed for bed. We got under the sheets and began the familiar petting and snuggling. We kissed and stroked until ready, then she climbed on top of me and we made love. It was the slow, gentle, rocking type of love making, with my manhood firmly planted inside of her. She rocked forward enabling me to gently nibble her breasts as she rocked. The mood was so calm that I was able to keep the urgency from building, and we continued like this rocking and loving until it became obvious that her arms were getting tired from holding herself up and we completed "the move."

The move requires familiarity and can never work on the first few encounters; but, by now we were so comfortable with each other, that without a thought, we rolled as one and I ended up on top of her. We were still intertwined and I was still inside her. I continued the gentle lovemaking now in the standard missionary style.

It seemed to last forever, never building much, no urgency, only the sort of lovemaking that ends only when it is ready to end. Finally, without fanfare, she came explosively causing the surprise of my own orgasm washing inside of her. After the climax, fatigue caught up with me and I collapsed beside her.

We held each other snuggling like spoons until we both fell fast asleep.

The morning routine was the same, I rushed to get ready and get out while she removed my traces before her daughter came home. She kissed me more deeply than usual as I left and our embrace lingered a little longer.

In my car, I saw her daughter being dropped off. I had just missed her.

Safe at last, I slipped in my tape.

Later the next week, I was just about to call her when the phone rang. It was she. She cut right to the chase without the usual pleasantries. "Can we meet for coffee?" she asked. "Of course, I replied." She named a location about halfway between her house and mine. We agreed to meet in fifteen minutes or as soon as we could. I was thrilled at the thought of seeing her again so soon, whistling, I put in my tape.

I arrived at the coffee shop and saw that she was already there. Immediately as I rushed to meet her, I knew something was wrong. I asked, "What's wrong."

"Please sit down" she replied. I did and she began.

Honestly, I don't remember what she said. All I knew was, it took every ounce of my energy to keep from throwing up and to swallow the lump rising in my throat at the same time. The gist, I recall, was "It's over...it's not you...it's me...yada, yada, yada." The buzzing in my ears overtook her words and suddenly she was gone. Gone from the shop and gone from my life.

Lazarus
Lazarus
58 Followers
12