0 comments/ 39908 views/ 3 favorites An Hour By: jthserra Pissed off at his wife who turned him down once again, Jim decided to take things into his own hands literally. After spurning him for the fifth time this week, she announced she was going to take a nap and set her alarm for an hour later. Jim headed downstairs frustrated at his situation. Reaching the bottom step, he came up with a plan. However, it is not to finally convince his wife to give in, but to at least, solve the problem throbbing between his legs. He headed out to his workbench and grabbed a few items, came into their den and turned on the VCR. Searching behind several layers of tapes, he pulled out his favorite porn flick, put it into the VCR and pushed the rewind button. He snuck back upstairs and opened his bottom drawer, pulling some items from beneath the sweaters. Carefully closing the bedroom door, he eased back down the stairs. The tape had fully rewound and after a bit of searching, Jim found the remote control and turned on the TV. He then started the tape and fast-forwarded over the intro and the plot led in. In a few seconds, he was watching a man and woman beginning to undress. Jim pulled his shorts and underwear down his legs and over his tennis shoes. Then he pulled off his shirt and while watching the woman on screen begin to give the well-hung man a blowjob he began to toy with his nipples. Horny as he was, his cock immediately snapped to attention. Before he reached down to touch it, Jim glanced at his watch. Eighteen minutes had passed. Wow… He knew he needed to hurry. He reached down his right hand and made a loose fist around his shaft. He continued toying with his nipple quickly stroking his cock as he watched the TV. Normally, he would delay his orgasm to try to correspond with the cumshot in the movie, but he didn’t have time now. Well, not enough time really, if he was to complete his plan. The woman onscreen was spreading her legs for the man to eat her out. This was one of Jim’s favorite things to watch, so he zoned in as the man’s tongue lapped up her glistening juices. His hand moved furiously, as the woman moaned in beautifully choreographed delight and long before the woman came, Jim shot his wad up onto his chest. Grabbing a towel, he dabbed his semen off his chest, noticing its odd aroma… something like Comet. After cleaning himself up, he fast-forwarded the movie to the cumshot and watched the man’s ample cock spray the woman’s face in its off-white stickiness. Jim let the tape continue as another couple began undressing each other. These two were outside, undressing next to the man’s red Camaro. Jim glanced at his watch, noting that twenty-seven minutes had passed. He needed to hurry. Watching the woman sit on the hood of the car and spread her legs as the man kneeled down with his face bobbing up and down; Jim began to stroke himself again. Knowing it would take longer to come this time he moved his hand quickly over his shaft, while his other hand gently squeezed his balls. The action on screen continued and Jim watched the woman now slide her mouth over the man’s enormous cock as he leaned back against the car. Jim continued and this time, he was able to time his climax to coincide with the stunning on screen cumshot. When he came, he moved his hand slowly while his semen splashed into his pubic hair. Quickly cleaning up, Jim moved both hands to his nipples, working to coax another erection out of his now pink cock. On the TV, a woman in a French Maid costume was entering a motel room where a man was on his bed masturbating. Jim watched the maid’s initial surprise and then her greedy smile as she took the cock into her mouth. Grabbing a vibrator and a massager, Jim turned both on and held them to his cock. The vibrations, combined with the on screen image of the French Maid toying with her pussy as she sucked the man off soon had Jim hard again. He glanced at his watch and noticed that 39 minutes had passed. Kicking the massager and the vibrator to high, he moved them all over his balls and cock while his eyes remained glued to the TV. The maid was naked now, straddling the man and bouncing up and down. Jim surprised himself as he came before the maid coaxed her man to spray her face with his jism. Jim rushed to the refrigerator, opened a beer and took a long swig. He then quickly moved back to the sofa and honed in on the TV. Two women were rubbing their breasts together as he reached over to what he called the cuminator, a half horsepower electric vibratory sander. Holding it up, Jim positioned a towel on his flaccid, red cock. He then placed the rubber pad of the sander over the towel and then wanting to inhibit the noise, he placed another towel over the sander. The women were now rubbing their pussies together while toying with their breasts and nipples. Jim took a breath and flipped on the switch. He was immediately slapped with an incredible vibration that he would feel all over his cock, his balls and through to his asshole. Holding the sander firm on his shaft, he felt his cock harden in response to the incredible sensation rolling over him. His whole body vibrated and he found it a bit difficult to keep the scene on the TV in complete focus. The women were locked tightly in 69 as they writhed and moved around. He wished he could hear the sound over the sander, but it was simply too loud. Jim concentrated hard on the sensation coursing the lower half of his body, especially on his cock. In a few minutes, he felt the pressure building in his balls and as the women on screen were breaking out a double dildo, he came, this time oozing his cum into the towel. He immediately turned off the sander and cleaned up what little semen had dribbled from his aching cock. Glancing at his watch, he confirmed that fifty-four minutes had passed. Four times in an hour… So he still had it, he thought, remembering his college days. Then he carefully pulled his underwear over his throbbing cock and then finished dressing. He tiptoed up the stairs and returned the vibrator and massager to his dresser drawer. He then quietly slipped back downstairs and returned the sander to his workbench in the garage. Returning to the living room, he stopped the video tape and turned the TV to a baseball game. He returned the porn tape to its hiding place. Just as he leaned back on the couch with his beer to watch the game, he heard the alarm go off upstairs. In a few minutes, his wife appeared and instead of complaining about him lounging around, she sat down next to him and snuggled under one of his arms. “I’m sorry about the way I have been lately. I don’t know what it can be, but I promise I’ll do better.” “Oh it’s okay honey, I understand,” he lied. “Come on, let’s go upstairs and make love,” she whispered. Choking on the beer, he quickly sat up and turned to her. His head spun as he wondered what he could do. “Okay, you go on upstairs and get ready for me. I’ll be there in a minute.” She smiled at him and stood up. She swayed her hips noticeably as she walked up the stairs. Jim chugged the last of his beer and then, like a man heading to a firing squad, followed her. An Hour We lay on the bed, bodies entwined, still fully dressed. Ours lips crashing into each other, tongues hungry, searching each other passionately. His hands roam to the edge of my T shirt, crawling upwards he reaches up under the hem and his hand disappears. Up it rises, his body pressing down on top of me, his leg over mine and my arm pinned under him. Fingers pinching through the fabric of my bra, probing twisting each nipple in turn as his tongue darts in and out of my mouth. My own hand, free of him reaches for his jeans, rubbing at the hard fabric as he thrusts against my leg. Loosening his grip on me he pulls me up so I am sitting facing him, he kneels next to me and pulls my shirt free of my body, and in one swift movement removes my bra and sinks his face onto the awaiting nipples. First one, the pressure of his lips on my push me back onto my back. That tongue, lapping and licking. The lips sucking at the soft tissue of my breast, his hand up at the other, he gently copies his mouth and rolls the nipple between finger and thumb, I arch my back and throw my hands above my head, he knows exactly what he is doing. He kisses down my belly and starts to undo the shorts I am wearing, loosing patients he gets up and stands at the edge of the bed, pulling them off swiftly and removing his own clothes before climbing back on top of me. We are now both naked, in the pool of afternoon sunshine that seeps into the house and onto the bed. He lays on top of me, hands on the bed either side of my head kissing me as our bodies touch all the way down. The kisses are now slow and steady, deep passionate kisses, I am so wet, I just want him to touch me, but his hands remain firm holding him up, safe from the weight of his body. I writhe below him, bringing my breasts and pelvis up alternately; reaching for any friction I can get from him. Relenting he rolls off me, laying now beside me, breaking the kiss a moment to look deep into my eyes, it feels as if he is reading my mind, probing my soul with his beautiful deep brown eyes. I feel his fingers brush my leg as he moves back in to resume the kiss. Pushing up against his hand finally he touches me. A single finger dips into my sex, then out, moving the moisture onto my swollen lips. I gasp deep into his mouth as he inserts a second finger and presses his thumb against my clit, he matches my thrusts and kisses down my neck and across my chest, clamping his mouth on the other nipple. This time he sucks hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh and his hand moves faster. I buck below his hand as he knows he is taking me close to the edge. One hand in his hair, the other clutches wantonly at the bed clothes next to me as I scream out and squeeze his pounding fingers. His hand slows but the pressure never eases, I squirm against him, both hands now relaxed at my sides, head back and eyes closed, I bask in the sunshine and my own glow. Lying now between my legs he inserts his huge dick in my wet hole, smiling as I open my eyes and look dreamily at him. He then flips me up to a sitting position astride him, a shock to say the least, but had the desired effect, no risk of me nodding off like this! I rock my pelvis backward and forward, not allowing him any chance of escape. His hands move up behind his head and he looks up at me, surveying the scene about him as if it were a painting. The smile crossing his lips soon fades as I run my fingernails down his chest, nipples to hairline. His back arches and he hisses at me, I know he loves it and I love the feeling of him thrusting just that little bit deeper, the feeling of power I have from up here. I carry on the rocking motion having moved my hands from his chest to my own. I cup both breasts in my hands and finger them gently. This extra stimulation causes me to Cum again. The power, the G spot stimulation of his cock buried deep inside me and the stimulation of my breasts took me by surprise, as I contract around him a gush escapes my pussy soaking both of us. This is too much for him and he pushes me over, back onto my back, a single thrust into me then he withdraws and rolls me over so I am face down on the bed. He parts my legs with his knees bringing one of them up at a right angle to leave me open for him. Holding my hips he entered me, pulling me back and upward to meet his thrusting cock. I could feel another orgasm building and he reached under my leg and began touching my clit. I bucked against him as his rubbing continued; I pushed back, his thrusting and rubbing taking me over once more. I buried my face in the blankets and screamed, the sound muted by the fabric below me, I felt him cum deep inside me. His fingers dug deep into my thighs holding me against him as he let out a loan groan. He collapsed on top of me before rolling to the side and embracing me tightly. He placed small light kisses up and down my neck and shoulders as I opened my eyes and turned my head to face him sleepily. Gently he kissed me on the lips once more then told me it was time to go. Moments later he was gone, time passed so quickly. Till next time I thought, as I drifted off to sleep. An Hour After The Wedding Author's Note: Although this short piece was written to stand on its own, it depicts events which take place shortly after "An Hour Before The Wedding." You can read them separately, together, and in either order because, face it, they don't really have much plot to begin with. ************************ The church bells clanged their joyous sound. Hallelujah!! Bec and Josh ran down the steps of the church, hand in hand. Josh in his black tux, Bec in her virginal white wedding gown, they dodged the hails of rice thrown by friends and family. The solemn wedding ceremony still fresh in their minds, they headed for their waiting limo, laughing and smiling, their new life of monogamous wedded bliss awaiting them. Bec and Josh piled into the back seat of the limo, and eagerly embraced. They kissed deeply, laughing and cuddling. Josh looked into Bec's eyes, and smiled. He was thinking about their wedding night. "I can't wait to get you back to the hotel," he said. "I wish we didn't have this stuffy reception to suffer through. I just want to rip your clothes off and make love to you all night long." "Oh, Darling, me too!" Bec told him. She loved Josh, and was eager to start their new life together, forsaking all others. But still.... she had been quite the slut in her single days. She knew that it would be quite a transition becoming a one-man woman. But Josh was worth it, she knew. He was all that she wanted. But still.... "Yes, baby," Josh told her, "once we consummate this marriage on that great big hotel bed, we will be each other's forever. I can't wait!" Consummate? The thought struck Bec like a thunderbolt. Of course! she thought. Until we consummate, we aren't really married, not completely. That meant that in the mean time, technically, she was still free to fuck around! The possibilities were endless. Her mind raced. Of course she loved Josh, and wanted to spend a monogamous, faithful lifetime with him. But there was no sense rushing into it. She had the afternoon and evening to sow her last few wild oats. Hmmmm.... Soon, they were at the reception hall. Daniel, Josh's brother and best man, was announcing the wedding party as they filed in and took their places at the head table. Bec watched all of the men in their nice fancy suits. She especially noticed if they had a bulge in their crotch. Yes, she thought, there were plenty of nice bulges. She figured she could drain many of those bulges before going back to the hotel room and consummating her new marriage, before entering her wonderful and loving lifetime of monogamous married bliss with her beloved Josh. Eventually, they were all seated, including Josh and Bec in the middle of the head table. Josh sat to Bec's right, and Daniel sat to her left. Bec decided that she wanted Daniel's cock first of all. She had always wanted to suck his cock, and now was her chance. She slid her left hand onto his thigh beneath the table. Daniel jumped slightly, and looked at her. She winked. Daniel stared at her, dumbfounded. "Josh, Darling," Bec said to her new husband, as a waiter poured champagne into the glasses on the table, "I need to run to the little girl's room. I'll be right back." She gave him a chaste peck on the cheek and, gathering up her rustling skirt, ran out of the room. But as soon as she ran out of one door, she doubled around and came back in the door on the other side of the room, and crawled unseen back to the head table. She ducked under the tablecloth and crept along the length of the table. Counting the legs as she went, she came to the crotch that she knew belonged to her new brother Daniel. She reached up and grabbed his thighs with both of her hands, gently spreading them. Up above the table, Daniel jumped with a quick start. What the fuck? he thought, lifting the edge of the white linen tablecloth in his lap. He looked down, only to see Bec holding a finger to her lips between his thighs. He quickly dropped the tablecloth, gulped, and started straight ahead. Bec, under the table, reached up and gently pulled down his zipper. His cock immediately sprang forth, all purple veins and wrinkled skin. But not for long! Bec stroked him in the palm of her hand until he reached full length, and not a wrinkle was left. The she wrapped her lips around the swollen head, and sucked him, shaft and all, into the back of her throat. Swirling her tongue around and around the rim of his cock head, she silently hummed the wedding march, letting the vibrations reverberate all through Daniel's turgid member. Josh looked across Bec's empty chair at his brother. "Are you all right, Danny?" he asked. "Oh, I'm fine," stammered Daniel. "I just feel a slight stiffness coming on. No problem." He gulped again and tried not to show his discomfort. But his cock was jumping and thumping in Bec's talented mouth, and he could feel his cum beginning to rise. Bec continued to suck and slurp, feeling the rigid cock flesh pressing against her epiglottis. She squeezed his balls with one hand, jacked his shaft with the other, and sucked as hard as she could with her throat. She was soon rewarded with a flood of warm, sticky jism, which she quickly swallowed. Ahhh, thought Bec. Pay dirt! Up above the table, Daniel, trying to nonchalantly sip water from his crystal goblet, spat out a mouthful and coughed spasmodically. Josh and several others stared at him. "I'm fine, I'm fine!" he protested. Under the table, Bec smiled to herself and started crawling back toward the exit. She snuck out the back door, ran around the hall, and entered again the way she had left. Trotting back to her seat, Bec kissed her new husband on the mouth. "Miss me, baby?" she asked coquettishly. "Of course, Angel," said Josh. "I thought I would die!" He squeezed her hand as she sat back down. The waiters were just serving the food. After dinner, the band struck up a series of dance songs. Bec and Josh, of course, started things off with the first dance, swirling each other around the dance floor. Josh stared with a longing gaze into the face of his beloved. Bec glanced around the room, wondering who she would fuck next. As the first song ended, and the second began, Bec's brother Jack came up and tapped Josh on the shoulder. "Mind if I cut in, Josh? I'd love a final dance with the sister I am giving away." "Of course, Jack," Josh said, and, bowing, handed her off. Bec fell into Jack's arms and proceeded to dance up close. "I'm going to miss you, baby sister," Jack told Bec. "Not just yet, you aren't," Bec said. She pressed herself tightly up against her brother, her flowing, rustling skirts engulfing his pelvis. As they continued to dance, she reached down to his fly and pulled his cock out. Her hand, and his cock, were well hidden in the rustling folds of the fabric of the wedding gown. Jack's mouth opened in surprise, but Bec gave him a look that shut him up. Still hidden in the folds of fabric, she began jacking his cock, feeling it swell and harden in her palm. Holding it from below, with her thumb and forefinger wrapped around the base, she slowly jacked it back and forth, then gradually increased the pace. Jack felt his sister's smooth, soft fingers and moist palm sliding up and down the tender skin of his shaft. All the while, they waltzed around the dance floor, smiling and nodding at the other dancers and bouncing to the music of the band. The music played on. Bec jacked faster and faster, and Jack felt his cum boiling in his balls. It was all he could do to keep his facial expressions under control as his baby sister brought his engorged shaft to the edge of ecstasy, and beyond. Eventually, he could take no more, and he let loose a stream of pearly white cum into her hand. Bec squeezed him tightly, and caught every drop in her palm. When Jack was finished cumming, Bec lifted her hand to her mouth. Looking him straight in the eye, she lifted her hand above her face, tilted back her head, and let the slimy scum drip slowly into her mouth, swallowing it all down. Jack looked on in awe. "Thanks for the dance, Big Brother," Bec said, and kissed him on the mouth, snowballing a few drops of his own jizz into his throat. Then, laughing, she turned away, looking for her next victim. She quickly spotted him across the room: a tall, Slavic looking bartender, standing behind the bar near the coat check. She rustled over to him and looked him in the eye. "What can I get for you, Miss?" he asked. "It's been a long day," Bec told him, "and I need something good and stiff." "How about a Cosmo? I make the best in town," the bartender suggested. "Not stiff enough," Bec told him, and came around to the back of the bar. Crouching down, she pulled down his zipper and pulled out his cock. "I'm going to kneel here under the bar. You keep serving the customers, but I want you to fuck me at the same time." The bartender, whose name was Stanley, had been a bartender for a long time. He knew better than to argue with a client, especially one who wanted to be fucked. He reached down quickly and flipped Bec's wedding gown up over her ass, exposing her shapely buttocks. With his strong hands, he ripped her panties to shreds. She kneeled on the lower shelf of the bar, invisible to the bar patrons. Stanley pressed his cock against her pussy lips, dangling down below her butt cheeks, and slowly but inexorably entered her moist cavern of love. The huge head of his cock parted her engorged lips, and slowly disappeared inside her pussy. Soon he was swinging back and forth on the balls of his feet, pumping her with all his might, enjoying the slick, sticky suction of her snatch. Customer after customer came for drinks, but he managed to serve them, all the while servicing Bec's needful pussy with his thick hard cock. Bec was moaning silently to herself underneath the bar as Stanley's cock thrust in and out of her, biting her lower lip to keep from making audible noises. She could feel Stanley's cock stabbing and jabbing into her love tunnel. She pinched her own nipples to enhance the sensations, and gripped tightly onto the shelves under the bar. Stanley swung and penetrated faster and faster, and finally reached his orgasm, launching a stream of cum deep into her pussy. Bec, furiously frigging her clit with a swizzle stick, managed to cum at the same time, leaking a copious squirt of pussy juice down the drain beneath the bar. She looked up, waiting for Stanley to give her the all clear signal. When Stanley indicated that there were no customers around, she straightened and turned, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thanks, love," she cooed. "You've got a great cock. Where do you work when you're not doing weddings?" Stanley tucked a business card into her cleavage. Bec kissed him on the cheek and pranced away, searching out her next conquest. "Bec!" She whirled around, to see her new husband Josh hailing her. Dammit, thought Bec, he has his whole life to be with me; why must he bother me now? But, she figured, it's his wedding day, too. So she ran to his side. "Yes, Darling!" Bec cried, throwing her arms around him, and smothering his cheeks with smooches. "Darling, Reverend Brown wants to bless our marriage," Josh told her. Indeed, the elderly gentleman was standing nearby, hands folded before his chest, looking at them beatifically. "Friends! Neighbors!" the good Reverend cried to one and all. "I give you Josh and Bec, two loving children of our community, newly minted in love and unity, forever and always bonded to each other, forsaking all others, in holy and sacred matrimony. Their love shall be a beacon and guide for us all. Amen!" The entire room echoed, "Amen!!" Bec took the good Reverend Brown by the elbow and propelled him toward the exit. "That was beautiful, Reverend Brown, just beautiful!" she told him. "I'm so glad that you could perform our ceremony, and this final blessing here at our reception. I am so blessed!" The good Reverend smiled and nodded. "But I do have some troubles. Perhaps you could come out to the lobby and listen to them in private?" "Of course, my child," said the good Reverend. And he followed her out toward the lobby. But Bec did not stop in the lobby. She guided the elderly cleric through the lobby, out the door, and into the parking lot. Eventually, she had him behind a stand of trees around the side of the hall, well out of view, near a planter full of shrubs. "Reverend Brown," she said. "I want to be a good wife to Josh. The best wife that any man ever had." "That is wonderful, my child," the old man said. "But what is the ..." "But until then, I want to be fucked like the fucking slut that I am," Bec told him, raising her skirts up over her waist and bending forward over the planter. She reached back and spread her ass cheeks. "See this asshole, Reverend? I want you to fuck it. I want you to go through it like Moses going through the Red Sea. Do you understand me?" The good Reverend was taken aback, and started gasping like a trout on the deck of a fishing boat. "Oh, for Christ's sake," said Bec, turning back to face him. "I just want you to fuck my ass, is that so hard to understand?" She grabbed his trousers by the waistband and yanked, ripping them asunder. Then she pulled out his elderly cock, and stroked it to life. Spitting in her palm, she stroked it until it throbbed and the head began to turn purple. "Now, shove that cock up my poop chute, okay, Padre?" She turned back around and resumed her position on the planter. The good Reverend, overwhelmed, was overtaken by his baser instincts. He took his spit-moistened cock in hand, and pressed it up against Bec's winking brown bung-hole. Bec squirmed in delight, encouraging him further. He pressed forward from his hips, and soon felt his cockhead invading her chocolate chakra, pressing deeper and deeper into her colon, feeling her innards sucking him in. Bec wiggled and giggled, and pressed back on his long, hard dick, squeezing him tighter than a silk sock. Soon they built up to an unholy rhythm, with the Reverend's bony hips slamming up against Bec's fleshy buns, and Bec's churning anus sucking and slurping on the padre's twitching tool. Back and forth they rocked, building up to an inevitable orgasm for each of them. Before long, release was imminent. "I'm coming!" cried the Reverend, feeling a delightful combo platter of ecstasy and guilt. "Me too; let me have it!" screamed Bec, her insides afire. "Arghgghgh!!" they shouted together, as wave upon wave of dusty spooge shot out of the end of the Reverend's ancient cock, coating the insides of Bec's rectum. Bec twirled, releasing the old cleric's tool from her Hershey highway and coming into his arms. She kissed him hard on the mouth, nearly loosening the Polygrip on his dentures. "Thanks, Padre," she said. "You're the best ordained fuck I've ever had." As his jaw dropped, to match his trousers, Bec left him standing in the parking lot, cum dripping off his cock, and went back into the hall. By now, the wedding reception was coming to its end, and people were saying their goodbyes. Josh and Bec were hugging and hand-shaking with friends and relations, and reaping well-wishes from one and all. Eventually, they were alone, and headed for their limo. "Driver, take us to the Four Seasons," Josh said, as he and Bec settled into the back seat. As the limo eased into traffic, Josh put his arms around his loving bride. "It won't be long now, darling," he said. "Once we get back to that luxurious hotel room, kick off these duds, and pop open that bottle of Dom, we'll be ready to consummate." He favored her with a lascivious look. "Oh, I can't wait, darling," Bec told him. Her eyes glazed over, thinking about all the cocks she had enjoyed already today. Yes, and about all the ones that she had missed. The limo dropped them off at the lobby, along with their luggage. A handsome young bellhop piled the luggage onto a cart as they checked in at the desk. Bec couldn't help but notice the bulge in the striped black trousers of the bellhop's uniform. "Yes, the Bridal Suite," Josh was telling the night clerk at the desk. He took possession of two keys. "This way, darling," he said to Bec. Josh and Bec rode the elevator to the top floor, along with the handsome young bellhop with the bulge in his pants. The bellhop opened the door, ushered them in, and unloaded the luggage. Then he disappeared. "Darling! What a beautiful room for consummating our marriage!" Josh declared, looking out the large picture window at the gleaming cityscape far below. "Definitely, darling, beautiful!" Bec agreed. "But you know what, I think I'll just run down for a quick cigarette before we turn in, okay? But you get ready for me!" Josh gave her a wink, and was already shedding his clothes on his way to the bedroom of the suite. Bec took the elevator back down to the lobby. The handsome young bellhop was there, bulge in his pants and all. Bec looked at him, sideways, and winked. Half an hour later, Bec was back in the suite. Josh was waiting in the bed, naked. "I missed you, darling. Is everything okay?" "Of course, darling," she said. "I missed you too." She shed her clothes and climbed into the bed. "Well? Are you ready for our consummation?" Josh asked her, all smiles and puppy-dog eyes. "Oh, darling, you know I love you. But I'm really, really tired. Why don't we just sleep for now. We'll have all day tomorrow, you know." "Well, okay, my love," Josh said, disappointed. He turned out the light. Several moments passed in silence. Then, "Whoa!" ""What is it?" asked Bec. "The bellhop," said Josh. "I forgot to tip him." "Oh, don't worry about it, darling," said Bec. "I took care of him." And they fell asleep in each others' arms, each dreaming of their long and blissful monogamous future together. Maybe. An Hour Alone I sat at the piano and idly played a few bars, a couple of quick arpeggios, scales and runs, tuning was fine, it sounded good, I ran through a couple of numbers, a few ideas for my solos. The bar was closed, the lights mostly off. I loved this time before we opened, before the public spoilt it all. I loved performing, just hated the clientele. Sometime after your forties you get used to it, normally I just played on, but lately I was getting really antsy. They come from the offices around, for 'just a few beers before bedtime'. The party guys and girls, leavers, marryers, divorcees, promotees, New Daddys, New Mummys. We had them all, some were the same people in quick succession. They all ignored the band and shouted and laughed and generally pissed about during the set. I liked the later shows, where they came to listen, or at least only talked when a number finished. The irritation had got to me so much lately, I had nearly walked off set one night. It had all started with Kate leaving, we had been around for maybe ten or twelve years playing a soft jazz / rock set. But she upped and left me and I guess I felt cheated. She had me over good, yeah really dumped on me big time. She handled the money, so guess what, she'd stripped the account and was last seen boarding a bus for the airport. Well fuck her and fuck everyone else too. Luckily the boys had their money paid separately so at least some of us could pay our rent and at least I still had a band. I had some money, which went too quickly and I was getting behind on some payments, so this month I borrowed some from my sister, but it came with a catch. She had a friend, who had a daughter, who had a voice. So yes I'd listen to the kid and then I'd tell her to go back to school, learn a trade, or find a career that didn't mean she'd have to endure drunks and arseholes all night. She was due in at four, which was why I was here at three because, as the song goes, "An hour alone spells freedom to a slave" . I remembered the old Pete Atkin / Clive James song and picked out the chords , adding the harmony hesitantly. In my mind I heard the words, "Nobody here yet From the spotlight that will ring her not a glimmer Not a finger on its squeaky dimmer I play piano in a jazz quartet That works here late with a young girl singer.." I extemporized a bit, falling back to the main chorus. But, then thought I heard a full rich contralto deep voice singing the words. "Thirty years in the racket A brindled crew-cut and a silk-lined jacket And it isn't my hands that fill this place It's a kid's voice still reaching into space It's her they're driving down to hear And it's my bent-over back she's standing near.." I stopped and looked up to see a young girl stood by the small dais we have as the stage. She grinned, a cheeky youngsters grin. "Hi I'm Holly. Auntie Gill said I should come and sing for you, it was today right?" "I.. Holly did you just..." "Sure, Pete Atkins, one of my Mum's favourite singers, she's got loads of his albums, I love A King at Midnight, and Thirty Year Man is my favourite track, couldn't believe you were playing it." "Yeah, OK, well now you're here, let's see what else can you do. Do you know, The Girl from Ipenema maybe?" "Yup, sure, what do you want to do, straight in or an intro?" "I usually do a few bars of the bass line, chuck in the main theme, then the band come in and then you launch yourself. Want to give it a try?" "You do your intro and then look at me when you want me in, is that OK?" "Yeah, let's see how it goes, and one, two, ahh one-two-three," I started in and looked up at the second she should hit the beat. She nailed it, in one, and then we were away. She ran through it like she'd been singing it all her life, I was amazed, she was so loose and she really knew how to use that knockout voice. We skidded to an end and she giggled. It was a rich and fruity gurgle and I had goosebumps. "So what now, I have a couple of favourites, do you want to hear "Stormy Weather", or maybe "That 'Ol Devil called Love"?" She looked at me with a smile and I laughed, this girl had the pipes, but did she have the stamina, let's see. "We'll do both, and look here comes the band." Bobby, Mac and Mike walked over and we did introductions, they had a ten minute tune up and loosener, we had Bass, Drums and Brass. Then we set about destroying two beautiful standards. Well we would have done if that voice hadn't kicked in on cue, bloody hell she could sing. The boys actually clapped when we finished. Holly grinned and jumped up and down on the spot. "That was amazing, you guys were brilliant!" "Well we try, let's go talk this over, I'll need to talk to your parents and get contracts signed, but if it's possible, you're in, right boys?" They all signaled affirmative and swung into Happy Days are Here Again, wild but ragged. I grinned and walked over to a booth with Holly. "How old are you Holly? Truthfully." "I'm eighteen in a fortnight, trust me. I bought my birth certificate and you can phone Auntie Gill or my Mum and check." "Holly, I believe you, but I will need to see proof, to protect both of us." Holly dug in her bag and produced an envelope, from this she extracted a short form birth certificate. Holly Elizabeth Arden, born eighteen years ago but a fortnight. She found her passport to support the birth certificate, the details were the same and a slightly younger version of her stared back at me. All seemed in order. I left her in the booth and found Dave the barmen. He let me into his office and I copied both documents. Walking back I heard laughter and then a drum roll. "Summmmmeeerrr Time, and the livin' is eassy." She looked at me as Bobby's trumpet soared behind her. I walked to the piano and joined in. I had those goosebumps again. That voice was like honey, but with steel under it. We forged through it and stopped. "On behalf of the band and myself I'd like to thank you all, and I hope we pass the audition," Holly giggled as she used John Lennon's remarks after a live performance on the roof of the Apple building in London in 1969. "You're far to young to remember that," I grinned. But on behalf of the band and myself I'd like to confirm you've passed the audition." She bowed and went to shake everyone's hands. Coming back she edged onto my stool. I shuffled a bit and she sat with one cheek on the stool grinning at me. She was seriously unnerving me. I'm a little OCD about my property and also personal space. "Sorry am I overstepping the mark?" She looked me directly in the eye and grinned. "Minx! yes you are, a little warning, keep out of my personal space, I have limits." I grinned and she hugged me, I went rigid, now she was well over naughty into danger. I just sat, as she held me. "You OK?" "Not really, I'm not really a touchy-feely sort of guy and I find this a little uncomfortable. Any chance you might back off, say a little or hopefully a lot?" "OK, sorry, I just wanted to thank you for taking me seriously." "Look Holly it's me, not you, I have a fear of contact okay, I don't like being too close to people, especially if we've only just met. It's the same with everyone not just you. I love your voice, I like you a lot, I think we have a good chance here." I didn't add, before someone snaps you up and makes you a star. Me and the boys were just making a living, Holly I suspect could be a real chanteuse, a singer of repute. Try to imagine a cross between Ella and Sarah Vaughn reborn in this girl, maybe not as perfect but damn close for an eighteen year old. I smiled and she slid away a bit. I touched her arm, she grinned. "See, it's not so tough is it?" "Get off, we have more to practice, okay lady and gentlemen, hymn number forty two, "It's that 'Ol Devil Called Love", and threeeeafour." It went well. we'd found a good sound, changed a couple of numbers, switched a couple around and we had a set. I called time and we broke for lunch, it was five thirty and we opened at seven. The bar was ready to go, so we left for the cafe opposite and had the all day breakfast, again. At six forty five, we went back and had a beer on the house, Holly had asked for a large glass of white wine and a pint of water. She sipped the wine and gulped the water. Long may that continue I thought. We mounted the dais and tuned up, ran a number for sound, as Holly scatted a lyric and at seven, we opened the set. We'd decided on "That 'Ol Devil" and from the opening, the few punters in the house stopped and listened. That voice suckered them in and they were hooked. A crowd of new arrivals went quiet as the regulars stared at them and then switched back to the stage. Holly growled to a finish over Bobby's trumpet. The place erupted. We nodded thanks and went into the rest of the set. At the end of the set at eight thirty the place erupted. We bowed and walked off, somehow I had an arm around Holly's shoulder, as we went to the back room reserved for our downtime. Dave stuck his head in and said bar sales were through the roof. He pushed a tray of beers, wine and water onto the rickety table and left, his other barman shouting for help. We sat and sipped slowly, coming down from an incredible high. Each number cheered to the roof, solo's evoking a loud round of applause. It had never been like this. We grinned stupidly at each other. Holly left the wine untouched but gulped the water again. Excusing herself she went to the ladies. A few cheers and whistles accompanied her appearance back in the bar area. Coming back she sat down , then started to shake, her eyes welled up and she began to cry. It was all the pent up emotion, she just let it go. We all looked around sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. One by one the boys got up and hugged her, I waited and then taking my turn sat with her and hugged her small frame. She stopped and sniffed, I found a nearly clean hankie, handing it to her. She giggled and dried her eyes, saying sorry for her outburst. We fell over ourselves excusing her and saying we'd all done it at some point. At nine we trooped out to a packed and enthusiastic bar. As we sat Holly looked at us all and nodded. She launched into the old Janis Joplin number "Try", My God the front row must have felt they'd strayed into a hurricane. She bowled them over with her voice. How could that small frame belt out those decibels. She made that song hers. She gave it everything, you felt all her fears and anxiety, her force and determination. She bossed the number, Janis would have been proud. We tried to rock behind her and I think we were close. The floor erupted again. Stomping, stamping, clapping, screaming, shouting. Holly raised her wine glass and sipped, before switching to the water and taking a third of a pint in one. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen, This is the Don Williams quartet, like to introduce the band. Don on Piano, Bobby on Horns, Mac on Drums and Mike on Bass. I'm Holly and I sing a bit." She giggled and put her water down, the crowd were right behind her. "Would you like some more?" The roar sounded like a Jumbo on the tarmac revving for the off. Holly giggled and looked at me, winking she turned to the audience. "Can't hear you sorry, do you want some more?" The sound made the little dais vibrate and I grinned, she had them at hello, this was just teasing them. I nodded at Mac, he laid down a beat, we roared into "This wheel's on fire." a sixties standard and again, she hit the front and led the way. I had switched to my beloved Farfisa organ and scorched the middle section. Holly clapped before picking up the lead again. Give that girl the baton and she ran and ran. At ten thirty we crashed out of "Mustang Sally" with the house on lead vocals, egged on by Holly strutting and grinding her way about the stage, she was a natural. We stood and linked arms, bowing and waving, then off to the room. The towels Dave provided were used to wipe the sweat off. The next set at Eleven would be a slow tempo wind down, before the finish at half twelve. Dave came in with the drinks, announcing that these were from friends in the 'Audience', could they come in. We said yes and waited until the door opened. My sister and Holly's Mum squeezed in, there were hugs and kisses, hand shakes and a shuffling around so they could sit. They were over the moon with the evening, they'd sneaked in as we came out for the second set and had been blown over by the whole thing. Naomi was a beautiful older version of her daughter and looked very familiar. She kept flashing me smiles and I smiled back, her eyes were bright and bored into me. We talked and sipped on the beers, Holly again sipping at the wine and drinking the water. Gill and Naomi chatted easily with the boys. I looked at Holly she was beaming. Soon we had to go out again. Usually at Eleven only the hardened drinkers were around, tonight the place was packed and an expectant cheer went up. Holly hung back and touched my arm. "Are they going to go for ballads and blues?" She asked, her eyes big and round. "Honey, you could recite the phone book and they'd hang on your every word." I grinned and clapped her back, "Go get 'em tiger." We arranged ourselves and Holly stood stock still, head down and arms by her side. The place quietened. You could here a pin drop. A low growl erupted as she began to raise her head and lift her arms. "Summmmmeeerrr Time, and the livin' is eassy." The place erupted and she smiled her easy smile. Bobby came in and a smattering of applause greeted him, He nodded briefly as Holly's voice engulfed the room, sliding so seductively through the song. Goosebumps time. As the last note died away they were on their feet again. Holly bowed and turned to blow me a kiss. I nodded. The girl done good. The set soon seemed to finish and we stood, arm in arm and took our bows. I pushed Holly forward and we all clapped her loudly. She giggled then turned and clapped each member of the band as she shouted our names. The crowd followed her and we each enjoyed the moment. Finally Holly bowed and led the way through the crowd to the rest room. We fell onto the chairs, towels round our necks, I was drenched, Mac Bobby and Mike red faced and puffing. Holly serene stood and sipped her wine, there were now three undrunk glasses by her elbow. She chugged her water and grinned. Taking a towel she patted her face and neck. "Phew, think I'll wear less tomorrow," she grinned. Mike, Bobby and Mac laughed, suggesting in turn, a mini skirt, boots and scarf. She grinned and sat down. Dave appeared with more drinks and grinned at us. We nodded absolutely drained. A tap at the door and Gill and Naomi came in, they smiled and shook everyone's hand again, then engulfed Holly in turn. Gill found me and hugged me very tightly. I grinned. We were close, but contact was rare, tonight it seemed right. After the bar closed we emerged back into the room. We switched everything off and Mac covered the drums, whilst Mike and Bobby put their instruments into cases, ready for the off. I closed the lid of the piano, then covered my Farfisa. Strolling back to the bar, we all stood whilst we waited for Dave. He came out and looked at us. "The usual three hundred apiece, plus tonight a bonus of two hundred each, for a sensational show." He counted out five piles of twenty's and fifty's, going slow enough that we could all do the maths. Smiling he touched Holly's cheek and chuckled. We gathered up our ill gotten gains and thanked Dave, he waved his arm casually and walked into the back of the bar. We stood aimlessly, not wanting to break the magic of the night. Finally Gill and Naomi approached Holly and guided her out. The spell broken we shook hands and the boys and I trooped out. By the next night the place was heaving as we came back from lunch. Holly excused herself and went to the ladies. We had changed the set slightly and she had contributed a few ideas, which we tossed around and decided to take a chance on. She arrived back a long coat wrapped round her, grinning like a loon. We all just shook our heads and laughed. Stepping out we made our way to the dais. Holly still wrapped in the overlarge coat. We'd agreed to start with a good foot stomper and Holly had suggested the old James Brown number I feel Good. Mac tapped the beat, "Wooahhhhh! I feel good, I knew that I would Now," She flung off the coat to reveal a stunning silver mini dress, silver boots and a blood red silk scarf, which hung from her throat to her knees. The place was in uproar. Shouting screaming, clapping, singing. The place was rocking. We grinned and put the pedal to the metal. Bobby's sax soared into the riff to the bridge. We'd allowed for Mac to do a solo and he destroyed them. How do you do a drum solo to James Brown? Ask Mac because he absolutely aced it. Holly was bumping and grinding, then on cue she went down, I rushed up to her and put her coat over her shoulders, helping her to her feet and trying to get her off stage. Flinging the coat off, she strode back to the mike and hit the afterburners. Finally we caught and held the last note, Holly whooping and rolling that beautiful voice around, soaring swooping and running rings round it. She jumped, we finished as her boots boomed onto the stage again. Not bad for a first number. The place was in uproar, we waited for five minutes before the noise lessened. I nodded at Mac and he clicked out the rhythm, as we went into "Try". Again pandemonium ensued and by the end of the set we were cheered to the rafters and soaked in sweat. Walking off we felt like dishrags but it was worth it for the adulation. Sitting down we rubbed ourselves dry, Mac stood again and pulled his shirt off, rummaging in his bag he produced another. "Wow, is it next month already?" quipped Bobby, avoiding Mac's lazily swung arm. Holly went to the ladies and returned in a burgundy dress that swept the floor. The top half was low at the back and scooped at the front. Sleeveless it revealed the soft clear skin of her shoulders and arms and chest. She looked beautiful. The room fell silent, she looked around. "What? What's wrong?" her big eyes bulging and brimful of tears. "Nothings wrong pet, you look gorgeous," said Mac with a smile. "Perfect," Bobby echoed. "Wow princess look at you, all ready for the ball," Mike said with a grin. "Well?" She looked at me and put her hands on her hips. "Let it Go, Let it Go.." the others chorused, and she grinned. I stepped forward and hugged her. "You look stunning, beautiful, perfect, a princess, all that and more." "Thanks guys you had me worried there for a minute." Dave came in to put the drinks out, paused, whistled and winked at Holly. "That's worth a bonus on it's own. Stunning look Holls." He disappeared, Holly grabbed her water and gulped. I grinned, same old Holly then. We went out for the second set and the noise intensified, they loved us. Holly made them cry, laugh and singalong. We lilted, we swayed, we supported, but that girl gave them her heart and soul and they loved her back for it. We came off, very impressed with our girl. She slipped out to the ladies and came back in a sweater and slacks with flat pumps and a small green beret perched at a jaunty angle. We grinned, a dress for each set, now that was style. We drank and mulled over a couple of points on the final set. We were on again. The set was sublime, she had them eating out of her hand. Fragile, spare, lost, she played it all. Audrey Hepburn with Ella's timing and phrasing, She finished on "Moon River." They didn't know whether to laugh or cry as she whispered the last note. Another brilliant set, we were all back in the room, easing down when a knock came. A large well dressed man appeared, wanting to speak to Holly. She said anything he wanted to say could be said in front of the band. He was an agent and wanted to represent her.