Chapter 13
Sheila would look back on the last two months as the happiest in her life. Now under contract to one of Nashville's major record companies, she had the money and freedom to enjoy herself as never before. Each day she wrote songs, practiced her music, and relaxed her body to meet the demands of the night. She looked back on a marathon fuck she and Johnny had enjoyed, his body ready to meet any demand she made. For hours on end she had sucked and nicked his cock like there was no tomorrow.
The entire weekend was spent in lovemaking, with only a few hours reserved for sleep as they lay exhausted, her head in his crotch, sucking him to sleep, only to be awakened shortly afterwards by a hot wad of cum slamming into the back of her throat. God, how she had enjoyed, and still enjoyed, that hard mass of meat slipping in and out of her cunt or her mouth.
She had called Marcia and told her the good news, and like a true friend, she had flown to Nashville and spent a week with Sheila, a week neither would ever forget. They had sucked each other's cunts until they were raw. She introduced Marcia to her friends, who gave her every pleasure they had. given Sheila. When Sheila put Marcia on the plane that bright sunny day, Marcia looked like a contented cat. They had given her a going away party to end all parties. Six writhing bodies sucking and fucking her into oblivion.
As Sheila applied the last touches of the pale-pink lipstick to her full, sensuous lips, she sighed with fulfillment. She had her own apartment, large enough, but cozy and friendly. If only the walls could talk! she thought. Steve and Dave had begged her to stay with them, for very good reasons, but she felt she needed to be on her own. Still she slept over at their place a good deal, or they came to her place. Sometimes together, sometimes singly.
One weekend, all three-Johnny, Steve and Dave-had stayed at her place, and they had kept her busy until her jaws ached. She had sucked more cum in those two days than anyone alive. It seemed as soon as one of them shot his heavy load into her mouth, another was ready to ram his hard cock into her throat and pump away.
She looked in the mirror a last time and liked what she saw. Her complexion was vibrant and clear, her hair arranged expertly to show up the highlights of her excellent bone structure. The joyous eyes in the reflection met hers and smiled. Today, she thought, will be the biggest day of my life. National television! She hugged herself with pride and happiness. Nothing can spoil it for me now!
She walked into the living room and sat on the couch. She propped her feet on the coffee table and rested her head in the luxurious comfort of the soft fabric, her eyes closed. Only one more hour before Dave picks me up for the television taping, she thought, only one more hour! Her mind relaxed in reverie, a million pleasant thoughts racing in and out.
Then there was a hard chill in the air. She hadn't heard a sound, but she sensed that something was wrong. Horribly wrong! Her body tensed in fear as she opened her eyes and turned her head toward the door. The cocky figure with hands on his hips glared at her with loathing. His eyes fairly popped out of their sockets with crazed hatred. She sat paralyzed, her body taut as a steel trap, her voice constricted. It took her several seconds before she could even whisper.
"Charlie!" she moaned, the world closing in on her.
"That's right, you cum-sucking whore!" he lashed out, the words spitting from his lips like bullets.
Then as suddenly as the terror had paralyzed her, it left She stood up, her shoulders erect, her hands to her sides. "Get out of my house, you sonofabitch!"
Charlie was slightly taken aback with her change in mood. He recoiled briefly, then bellowed out, "You cocksucking bitch whore, I'm going to beat your brains out!"
Sheila reached over and grabbed a poker from the fireplace and drew it back. "If you're going to do it," she said evenly, her courage mounting, "then do it. Don't just talk about it, you crazy bastard."
It was obvious that he was drunk, because he stumbled when he lunged for her throat. He fell, crashing on the coffee table, scattering ashtrays and magazines on the floor. And luckily for him he was drunk, because he didn't come within swinging distance of the lethal poker Sheila had every intention of using. He lay on the floor a pathetic heap, foul-smelling and disgusting.
"Get out of my house now," Sheila ordered, the poker still ready to swing, "before I call the police."
Charlie got to his knees, white hatred burning in his eyes. "I'm going to kill you, you mother-fucking whore. But before I do that, I'm gonna fuck the shit outta you!" He yanked at his belt and unbuckled it. "First, I'm gonna beat the piss out of you, till you beg to eat a foot of my shit to kiss my ass!"
As he stood up on one knee, Sheila swung the poker underhanded, slamming the spiked end into Charlie's balls. There was a shriek as Charlie buckled forward, grabbing his crotch, his face white with pain. He fell flat on the floor, his mouth frothing in agony.
Sheila looked down at Charlie, her feelings expressing neither fear, hatred or anything remotely resembling a sense of caring whether he lived or died.
The door opened a few seconds later.
"Hello, sweetheart...." Dave said, his voice trailing off when he saw Charlie on the floor, grunting like a pig. "Who is that?" he asked, his face puzzled.
"That," Sheila said, pointing with the poker, "is Charlie."
"Charlie!" Dave said, walking over beside her. "They said there was some drunk looking for you down at the studio, but I just thought it was an autograph hound. My God, you could have been hurt!" He grabbed her around the waist and kissed her. "Thank God, you're alright!"
"I'm fine," Sheila said, "but he's not doing so well."
"So I see," Dave said, releasing Sheila and walking over to the groaning figure. He reached down and yanked Charlie's head up by the hair. "Hi, Charlie, I'm Dave," he said, smiling into the empty eyes. "By the way, a lot of us are pretty fond of Sheila, and I think you'd better make your business to fuck ass out of this town as soon as possible. Otherwise, you might find yourself in big trouble." He pulled harder on Charlie's bleeding scalp and said into his face, "If ever I see you around her again, I will personally break your back!" With that he drew his right leg back and slammed his foot into Charlie's face with a crunch. Charlie's jaw hung ridiculously, his face bleeding and red.
"Throw his ass out of here," Sheila said.
"With pleasure," Dave said, pulling Charlie to his feet and guiding him out the door. He thrust the limp figure out on the sidewalk and then closed the door. 'That was close," Dave said, wiping his hands, "good thing I got here in time."
Sheila smiled at Dave's obvious male vanity and said mockingly, "Why is that?"
Dave grinned impishly and said, "Otherwise you might have killed the sorry sonofabitch!"
He placed his arms around her and started to kiss her on the mouth, then stopped. "Better not mess your face up, I want it to look perfect for the show."
"Oh, I don't mind," Sheila said, smiling, "kiss me."
Dave dropped to his knees and grinned. "They won't be concerned how your cunt looks, I'll just kiss it, instead."
Sheila moaned with pleasure as she received the best good-luck kiss of her life.