Chapter 9
Dana waited patiently outside the office where Cynthia worked. He peeked through the glass section of the heavy door to try and get her attention. She was busy typing. He waved his arms back and forth so she would see him. She kept typing.
"Yes!" a voice boomed out behind Dana.
Dana jumped a little and looked around. It was a tall, business-type man with a frown on his face. He looked down at Dana, then repeated, "Yes!"
"Oh, hi. I was just waving at a friend." He felt embarrassed and foolish.
"You know, we work up here, we don't fool around," the man said bitterly.
"No shit," Dana replied, aggravated with his impertinence.
"I've seen you clowning around down there with your violin. This is a different place up here. We work for a living," the man spoke, pushing past Dana and going on in the office.
"Have a nice day!" Dana called out after him. "Hey, Cynthia," he called out bravely, "don't you get off now?" Dana felt more adventurous than he had in years. He was proud of his own aggressiveness.
Cynthia looked up at the clock. It was five o'clock. She put a few things away and picked up her purse, punched the time clock and left.
"Who was that nerd that just went past. That guy over there staring at us?" Dana asked, nodding toward the business man.
"Oh, he's just a bookkeeper, why?"
"He came on a little salty to me awhile ago. He informed me that you all work up here ... What the hell does he think we do down there, jerk off?"
"He comes on that way to everybody. Don't pay any attention to him," she said walking down the hall. "Where are we going?"
"The party doesn't start until about nine, after they finish taping. Let's go to my place and I'll cook somethin' and we can listen to music."
"Fine. I'd like that," Cynthia replied. "Just think, I get to meet David Alan and go to a party tonight with a member of his orchestra!" she beamed as they left the ABS building arm in arm.
Dana drove a Mercedes Benz. He liked that car, and had always driven one, since he could afford it.
Dana was one of the lucky musicians in town. He worked steady in the studios and made a handsome living. He lived modestly, only spending money on music and a few luxuries. His car was one of the luxuries he afforded himself. He felt it was a wise investment, though, because he only bought one every ten years. This car was six years old and ran like a top.
Dana reached over and put a cassette cartridge into his tape recorder. Heavy symphony music filled the leather-padded interior of his automobile as they drove toward his house. He lived in the Hollywood hills in an older house. It was covered with ivy and looked like something you would see in New England.
"I love your house," Cynthia said, climbing from the front seat. "It has so much character."
"It's comfortable," he replied, unlocking the front door.
Inside was a thick, luscious carpet adorned with heavy, comfortable furniture. There were large speakers on the walls that looked as though they should have been in a recording studio.
"Like a drink?" Dana asked, going into the kitchen.
It was a bright, cheery room painted white and trimmed in light blue. He had matching curtains in the windows where the sunlight spilled in when the sun shined in the morning.
"Yeah, I'll have a martini, if you have the Gin," she said, sitting at a bar stool beside the stove.
There was a tiny bar, large enough for two to sit comfortably beside the kitchen area.
Cynthia watched as Dana made a pitcher of Gin martinis. He stirred the clear liquid, making a splashing sound against the ice cubes.
Dana reached into his freezer and brought out two frosted martini glasses and put them on the bar. He reached for ajar of olives and distracted two and put these in the glasses, then poured the chilled martini's on top.
"Cheers!" he replied, raising his glass.
"Cheers!" Cynthia chided, clinking her drink against Dana's. She sipped the cold Gin slowly, looking over her glass at Dana. He was an odd man, so completely absorbed in his music that nothing else mattered to him. Most men would have had her on the couch by now, but he was concerned about what records to put on the machine. She wanted to make it with him for her own prestige. She had never known a musician with a big name orchestra and it intrigued her to be with him. He wasn't attractive, but he was a member of David Alan's orchestra ... and this was all that mattered. She would have him before the night was over.
Dana went to his record cabinet and looked at a catalog he had prepared for his own use. He had thousands of records lined completely across one wall in the living room. He thought about Cynthia. He didn't know what she liked, he hadn't asked her. Oh well, he put on some David Alan albums. That should thrill her! he thought, pulling the discs from their jackets.
"That's pretty. What is it?" Cynthia called out from the kitchen.
"It's us ... the David Alan bunch," he called back.
"Oh! How nice!" she commented, remembering another musician she had dated awhile back. He was the only other musician she had been out with, besides Dana. What a difference! she thought to herself, remembering the circumstances and time when she had been involved with the itenerate music maker.
She had been living in a small town outside of Chicago near a resort area. It was summer and there were many tourists spending their vacations at the resort where she worked. The name of the lodge where she worked in the office, was "Back of the Moon." It was a large hotel that had a bar and restaurant with entertainment in the evenings. Cynthia spent a lot of time in the bar at night, one reason being, she was dating the bartender. He was a medical student that spent his summers making extra money as a mixologist.
That is where she had met Slide Parke. He was a trombone and bass player with a small group that entertained in the lounge six nights a week. The hotel policy was to change groups every two weeks, but this group was so good, they had been held over for a month.
Cynthia loved to listen and dance to their music. They called themselves the "Stereo Four" ... She had seen Slide many nights but hadn't met him. She liked his looks. He was about thirty years old, tall and lean. He looked sexy to her and she was curious about how he would be in bed.
One night, about closing time, she went to the band stand and requested a modern jazz tune. She knew this would attract her attention, because everyone else always asked for more commercial melodies.
This turned Slide on immediately. He had seen her hanging around the bartender and had even asked about her and had been told that she dated him, so he had looked elsewhere for a girl. She had big tits and this was enough to excite Slide. He would go out with most anything after a couple of beers, but this chick was nice. She was pretty, and obviously knew something about music. He watched where she sat and after the next set was over he went directly to her table, where she sat alone.
"You usually sit at the bar ... right?" Slide spoke, pulling out a chair from her table. "May I sit down?"
"Sure," she said simply, trying to be coy. "I'm Slide Parke. What's your name."
"Cynthia."
"You look like a Cynthia. Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, offering her a cigarette.
"Sure. I'd love a brandy."
Slide ordered the drinks from a nearby waitress, then looked at Cynthia more closely. She was a pretty girl. She had full, even lips and sparkling white teeth. Her eyes were a little slanted and she had a cute nose. Her breasts pushed out of a low-cut blouse she wore and he could see the tops of them as she breathed.
"How long will you be here?" she asked, sipping the brandy that had been set before her.
"I don't have the slightest idea. I'm sure enjoying myself, though. We've been lucky. The house is packed every night and the manager loves us."
"You're good. I love to come in here every night and listen to the group."
"I thought someone told me you went with the bartender, and I right?" Slide asked, looking at her expression closely.
"I go with whom I please. I'm not connected with anyone."
"Good! Will you go out with me tonight? We can go to my place and dig some sides."
"Well, I guess so. You won't try to rape me or anything like that?" she teased.
"I might let you rape me, if you'd like," he replied with a grin. "I have to go to work now. I'll see you after the next set, then we'll split."
Cynthia nodded to the trombone player as he left. She nursed her drink for the next forty five minutes while she enjoyed the show the group performed. The Stereo Four was out of it. They put on funny hats and sang hillbilly tunes. They left the funny hats on and played a ballad. This cracked Cynthia up more than anything else. They were so serious with those goofy hats! The bass player lay on his back and held the bass between his legs while the other three members of the group all climbed on top of him. They never made a mistake while they played the beautiful melody.
Cynthia was almost hysterical as they finished playing. All three musicians were sitting on the side of the bass, not cracking a smile as they played beautifully. The bass player acted like they were killing him. He made all sorts of facial distortions while he kept trying to play his instrument. Cynthia enjoyed their strange sense of humor. They were truly out of it.
"Did you bring a car?" Slide asked, sitting at Cynthia's table.
"No, I don't have a car. I stay here at the hotel."
"Groovy! I'll go pick up our hearse and meet you in front in ten minutes." Slide stood and left the room.
"A hearse?" Cynthia called after him. He ignored her call and departed through the front door.
Cynthia finished her drink and left a tip on the tip-tray for the waitress, then went out in front of the hotel. She had to laugh when Slide pulled up in a 1940 Packard hearse. He got out quickly and ran around the long front end and opened the door for her. He bowed graciously as she got in the front seat. It thrilled her to see how much attention she received by being with Slide. Everyone watched him and smiled as he ran back around to the driver's side. He donned his head with a long, stove pipe hat, that looked like an ancient undertaker, then drove away.
"Wanta take a drive before we go to my place?" he asked, driving down a lonely country lane.
"Sure. It's a beautiful night. I love your car ... or whatever it is. It's a real camp!"
"Well, we like it. We all four travel in it and sometimes we sleep in it when we're out of work and can't afford a hotel room. We started to buy a goat and some chickens one time, but figured it would start to smell, so we didn't."
Cynthia laughed. "Where are you from?"
"We work out of Chicago. That is when we work. Things have been real slow up until this job and we're really enjoying eating regularly. We were out of work for three weeks before this gig and when we got here we had no money at all. We borrowed enough from our agent for gas to get here, but we had no food. The hotel pays for my room over at this other place, otherwise we'd have to sleep in the car the first week."
"How did you eat?"
"Oh, that was funny! We worked an afternoon session from five 'till seven and they served hors d'oeuvres. Well, the afternoon bartender was a pretty wise old coot and he saw our eyes light up when he put a large tray of these goodies on the bar where we could see them. The chef brought out three trays, just filled with all kinds of things and the bartender hid one behind the bar. After our first set, he motioned for us to come to the bar. We did, and he gave us the whole tray. We took it outside and scarfed like a bunch of savages. He was cool. Every afternoon he only served two trays to the customers and kept one for us."
"How nice. Then after you got paid, you started paying for your meals ... and getting alittle better balanced diet." She laughed, enjoying his company. He was a fun guy and it was a new experience to be around someone so carefree. Usually her dates were so damn serious she was bored to death. Slide was a funny guy.
The hotel was located on the outskirts of the small city and they were in the country when they left the place. It was a beautiful night. The stars were shining brightly and there was a full moon. Cynthia leaned her head out of the window and smelled the fresh countryside. There was alfalfa growing and it's aroma filled the air. They drove for about an hour and then Slide pulled over under a large, spreading oak tree. He turned off the ignition and they both sat still, listening to the quiet. A few crickets made their noise, adding to the tranquility of the evening.
Slide moved over by Cynthia and put his arms around her. She responded by grasping his hand. He kissed her on the cheek and rubbed his nose around in her hair. She smelled good, and felt soft to his touch. He put his other arm around her waist and kissed her directly on the mouth. Her soft lips parted when he touched his to hers. His tongue found her open mouth wanting his pink gland and accepting it gladly. She began to breath heavily when he put his hand on her breast. She pushed his hand away, but he put it on the other side, massaging the mound of flesh as he kissed her. He slid his hand up and down into her dress, filling his hand with a beautiful, thick
"Don't, Slide. Please?" She didn't sound too convincing in her voice. It was shaky and unsure.
Slide pulled his hand out of her blouse and reached around behind and pulled up the material past her brassiere strap. He quickly undid this, letting the huge knockers fall forward. His hands moved underneath the front of her clothing, up under the loose brassiere and found the two firm mounds of smooth skin standing out waiting for his two hands. He pushed the blouse up to her neck, then buried his face between the two hills. He wallowed his head back and forth, kissing and licking the protruding glands, then he put one of the nipples in his mouth and began to suck on it.
Cynthia was going wild! She could feel his mouth on her body and became excited all over. Her pussy was wet, she could feel it. God! Was he a passionate lover! His mouth was back on hers with his tongue in her mouth while he played with her tits. She enjoyed every touch of his and moved around in the seat in a bed of passion.
Slide took her hand and put it on his cock. She pulled away at first, but with his insistence she didn't refuse to hold it in her hand. She squeezed the hard muscle in his pants as he kissed her and rolled her breasts around in a circle with his hands. She was breathing hard when he reached down and undid his zipper, pulling the muscle out of his pants. He put her hand back on the bare joint and hunched forward as she began to masturbate him.
"Oh, God! Cynthia. You feel so good when you do that!" Slide panted, enjoying the passion creep over his body. "Will you suck me off?"
Cynthia sat up suddenly and let his penis fall free. "You want me to put it in my mouth and suck you off? Jesus, Slide, I never did that before!"
"Well, do it now. I'd really dig it if you would. I'll give you some head when you're through. You sure can't have babies that way."
Cynthia looked at the shining knob and leaned down and put it in her mouth. She sucked on the throbbing crown and enjoyed the experience.
Slide moaned as he felt her lips go down on the sides of his cock. He leaned back and moaned loudly as she sucked up and down ... up and down.
"That's it, Cynthia ... Suck it, baby! It feels so good I think I'll scream. Get it all! Suck it honey!" he moaned, thrilling to the touch of a woman's lips around his hard-on.
Cynthia felt his prick stiffen and convulse as the hot, creamy liquid filled her mouth. She kept sucking, swallowing the spunk he had ejaculated into her head.
Slide held her head down on his joint until he finished coming, then pulled his cock out of her mouth.
"Thank you, Cynthia, that was the greatest!" he said, reaching over to his lover. He pulled her dress up around her slender waist, then pulled her panties off. He climbed down on the floor board of the hearse and put his head between her legs, kissing them and licking the tender skin. His mouth reached her vagina and he blew his hot breath into the furry nest, then kissed the opening of her waiting depth.
Cynthia thought she would go out of her mind when he began licking her clitoris with his hard tongue. He was an expert at doing this and she thrilled to his every movement. His chin rested on the lower part of her cunt as he licked and sucked at her tight quim.
She tasted good to Slide, who relished licking the open cavity. Her lips slid around his face, exciting him as he thrilled her with his advances. He could feel her lips tighten as she began to come. She yelled and wiggled around in the seat as he continued licking and sucking on her hard, tiny gland.
"Slide! I'm having another orgasm! I'm coming again!" she screamed, writhing and twisting into his face. "Keep eating me, Slide! Oh, Slide!"
Slide blew and licked and sucked on the wet hole until she went limp. He sat up and wiped off his chin, then kissed her open mouth gently. He had exhausted her with his talent and it made him feel good to see her so completely satisfied.
"Did you like that?" he asked, whispering tenderly into her ear.
"Are you kidding? That was the best experience I ever had. I'm liable to want you to marry me if you do that very often."
"Let's go home and dig some music," Slide suggested, starting the engine.
Cynthia remembered seeing Slide many more times that summer. It had been a beautiful time in her life.
Now she stared at Dana, who sat on the couch in his living room, eyes closed, listening to music. She wanted him too ... and was determined to get him in bed before the day had ended.