Rock Me Baby

by Jesse Jordan

  The only bright spot is that I had a good date earlier this week, with a guy who seems to be interested in me.

  Ian. He's not cute in the traditional sense, his forehead's a little too strong, his eyes are a little too deeply set to be cute. If I were to describe Ian in a single phrase, it'd be quiet intensity. When he speaks, he doesn't waste words. He's powerful, towering above me with shoulders that seem to blot out the sun when he casts a shadow, and his face... Ian's got the sort of face that should be on a statue of a gladiator, a rivulet of blood dripping down his forehead to mix with his enemy's as he lay at Ian's feet. The two times we kissed I felt like a doll in his arms.

  Despite the fierce, gruff exterior there's little things about him that are even better. Like the way he carried me over a puddle or the way he told the bar girls to just fuck off, even though in my opinion they were more traditionally 'hot' than I am.

  I lean back, stretching out on my couch and trying to find something to smile about. My mind attaches on the memory of Ian dropping me off from our date, his last words to me. “You are very beautiful tonight.”

  Beautiful, huh? I look down at my black tank top and pull it off, looking down at my breasts. Not too big, actually kinda skinny in my opinion, but they do the trick for me. Hmmm... a few ribs showing, I could use an extra sandwich or two, but not as bad as when I was busted by the cops. My hips swell outward, and as I unbutton my jeans to push them down I know what I'm doing, but it's okay. I need this right now.

  “Mm... so you think I'm beautiful, do you, Ian Ivory?” I teasingly ask as I push my jeans down. “And what would you want to do with me?”

  My hand cups my mound through my panties and I hum, feeling a natural warmth. I just let my hand lay there while I think about Ian, how good it would feel for his lips to be somewhere besides my mouth, how strong his hand was as he squeezed my ass...

  I take my time, my fingers massaging my pussy slowly, letting the warmth become a wet heat, my heart speeding up as images of Ian's arms, his hands on my skin, the rumble in his throat as he does things to me, pulling me down on top of him, dwarfing me in his arms.

  “Mmmmmm…. Ian….” I moan softly as I stroke my lips through the thin cotton, feeling them soak through. I pinch my right nipple, gasping at the pain and the wonderful tingle as I rub my fingers up higher, finding my clit. I stroke quickly, my fingertips fluttering over my stiff nub and leaving me quickly gasping for air.

  Oh god I need this, I think as I slap my clit with three fingers, my hips jerking in response. It’s good, and thinking of Ian makes me hotter and hotter, my pussy quivering as I stroke my clit again, so close I want to scream. I think of showing off for Ian as I stroke again, and the memory of the feel of his cock pressed against my belly sends me over the edge.

  My first orgasm snaps through me hard, but instead of dulling the fire inside me, it starts me on a chain reaction, and I start rubbing harder, faster. I pull my panties to the side and slide two fingers deep inside me, moaning as I wish it was Ian's cock splitting me open, his teeth biting my nipple instead of me pinching, pushing my body harder and harder. Sweat trickles down my neck as I close my eyes, seeing him above me, that same craggy, protective look on his face as he drives his cock into me over and over, my pussy stretched and strained like never before. Suddenly I'm there again, this time coming hard enough that I feel a little wetness on my fingers, and I shake, my heels drumming on the far arm of my couch as it rolls through me.

  It's enough. I pull my fingers out of my pussy, smiling lazily as I smell myself in the air. It's not as good as if I could smell a man's sweat, but it's okay. What's not okay is the wet spot underneath my butt from my squirting, but a towel will take care of that too before it's time for me to go to sleep.

  I sit up, adjusting my t-shirt and looking at my panties. Nah, they're too soaked, laundry bag time for you. Actually, I could use a shower, and then maybe an early bed. No way am I getting the rest of my homework done tonight.

  Chapter 6

  Ian

  I was thnkin abt u 2day. How was ur day?

  I read Mary's text a second time, smiling as I sip my coffee. It's break time at the support group, and I agreed to make a little speech to the group. A lot of the guys, our group is almost totally men, go through problems that the lack of energy and moodiness from their SA affects their family life or their work life, or both. Since apparently I'm a 'success story,' they asked me to speak.

  I hit the reply button on my phone and type back quickly, or at least as quickly as my fat thumbs lets me type. Good. Hey, wanna go out tmmrw nite? Burgers and music?

  No drinks? Mary texts back in a moment, and I grin. I wonder if she's asking to avoid the problems we had last time, or if maybe...

  No drinks. Nthng hrdr than Pepsi.

  Aww.... and I tht I had more effct on u than that.

  I can't help it, I laugh at her flirty words and send her back a winking emoji along with my reply. We'll see. Tmmrw, 8. CU.

  I put my phone back in my pocket just as Charlie, our group coordinator, gets to the front of the room and behind the mobile pulpit that the church has for us to use. “Okay everyone, have a seat. Obviously, it takes a lot of guts for our next speaker to come here. We say that we're supposed to be anonymous, but Ian... well, a lot of you know who he is anyway. I asked him to speak on the struggles he's faced with balancing his career with his problems from apnea. Ian?”

  There's a few people clapping, but looking around the group of thirteen men and two women, I can see that my initial idea was correct. Charlie's being nice and maybe I can deliver a little rah-rah, but these people know that our lives are different enough, it's hard for them to find a connection there, so I go with my gut.

  “Charlie, thank you for asking me to talk tonight. Okay everyone, let's get it out of the way. No, my job is not the kind of job that requires me to get up at six in the morning and fight morning traffic. Actually, while I've seen quite a few sunrises, they're normally at the end of my days.”

  The little joke gets a chuckle from a few of the group, and they lean forward, glad that I'm not being pretentious. I nod, then continue. “So unfortunately for Charlie, if you guys want advice on how to handle that.... I've got no fucking clue. Normally, on the days that I had bigger headaches and a lack of energy before getting my BiPAP, I did a double dose of aspirin and slammed energy drinks. Not a good idea, but it got me behind the drums. From there, I let my love of the music carry me the rest of the way.”

  “Did you ever play when you were wiped?” someone asks, and I nod.

  “Damn straight I did. About half of our gigs on the Four Letters tour I was a fucking zombie. It was especially bad after the nights when we had to fly. Throw in jet lag and time changes, and I was not a nice guy to deal with during that tour. Honestly, the biggest hero of the whole thing was Cora, our manager and Rocky's girlfriend at the time. She and Joey kept us more or less at peace.

  “As you all know, I first tried to get by with just surgery, but it didn't work a hundred percent for me since I'm also a little CSA. So I'm going to be one of those folks who's on the BiPAP until new treatments come around. And I understand, I've spent a lot of time and wasted a fair amount of money the past year trying every wacky thing that comes out on the Internet about possible treatments. I'm still going to bed with a rubbery mask every night though, so fuck wheat grass.”

  That gets a bigger chuckle, so I continue. “The biggest thing, and something that I think is hard for a lot of us, is being up front with our loved ones about it. I was lucky, I got a diagnosis via Joey Rivera realizing I wasn't breathing, so my brothers in the band knew about it quickly. For a lot of us though, being up front is hard. I mean, we already feel like we're going to bed looking like Darth Vader, right?”

  There's a few more chuckles, and I nod. “Yeah, I remember the first time I took my machine with me on tour, feeling like a total idiot strapping it on in a hotel, but you know what? The next day was great. There was no fuzzines
s, no need for mainlining caffeine, none of it. I actually took a nap that afternoon, the machine on the band's bus we were using, and it was great. So I can't stress for you more, it may be rough, but seriously, whatever CPAP or BiPAP you are on, use it. If the noise bothers you, try some lightweight ear plugs. Trust me, you get used to them.”

  “How do you know?” someone asks, and I laugh.

  “Because I wear a heavy duty triple flanged set for every concert. They even have custom made sets out there, the doc puts some goop on a stick in your ear, lets it harden, and presto chango a set that fits every curve and wrinkle, right down to the curly hairs. But getting back to my main point, be up front about it with the people who are important to you. You don't have to be a jerk, but saying that you need to take your BiPAP with you on the family vacation or something isn't being a jerk. Telling your partner that you need to strap up before you go to sleep after sex isn't being a jerk. It's being considerate. That is, unless you want to be a grumpy asshole the next morning when you wake up.”

  There's a general round of laughter, and I continue my little speech. It's not much, mostly a few tips on how to get a BiPAP into various situations, most of which boil down to 'pre-plan and make it happen.' But still, I wrap up on a good note. “Again everyone, I can't even begin to say that I know what you go through. We all have different struggles. But that's what groups like this are for. Jason's little hint about quiet time two weeks ago helped me with getting not so much more sleep but better quality sleep with the time I'm able to get. Valerie's talk a month ago didn't give me any hints, but helped a lot the day after getting back from a long tour and being jet lagged out of my damn mind. So I thank you all, each of you.”

  After the meeting, I help Charlie and everyone else clean up quickly, Charlie pulling me aside at the end. “Thanks, Ian. Seriously.”

  “It's no big thing, Charlie,” I whisper, looking around. “Thank you, guys, for being here when I need help too.”

  Charlie and I are about to go out into the hallway when the door opens and a trim man in his thirties, looking like a total Ken doll or maybe a televangelist when you include the silver cross pin on his lapel, comes bursting in. “Where's Ian?”

  “I'm Ian,” I reply, alarm bells immediately going off. Group leader, it's a Thursday night.... and behind him is a short Chinese girl about Mary's age, a little younger maybe. “Who's asking?”

  “You asshole!” the man screams, getting right up in my face. “She's mine, you stupid thieving son of a bitch! Mine, you hear me?”

  “I assume you mean Mary,” I reply, trying to keep my calm. I don’t want to start stuff in a church of all places. “First off, she's a free woman, she doesn't belong to anyone. Second, you're in my face. Go fuck yourself.”

  I go to step around him, but the man, I can only assume it's Carl, tries to grab my jacket. “Don't you walk away from me, boy!”

  He gets a grip on my jacket, but that's it, as I spin, the two of us looking like a pair of insane ballroom dancers as we cross the room. I pivot right at the end and slam Carl against the wall, pinning him there with my left forearm on his collarbone, where I can easily slide it up into his throat. “I don't like to be touched, Carl. You are Carl, right?”

  “Leave him alone!” the Chinese girl says desperately, and I give her a glance. Yeah, she's definitely a junkie, I can see the look in her eyes, one part of her happy that this asshole's getting jacked, while the other half terrified that her supply is going to get taken away. Sadly, the addict side wins out. “Please!”

  I look back at Carl, who's struggling, but I have easily eighty pounds of muscle on him. In fact, he was pretty much out of his mind to even attack me as it was. “Are you going to behave, Carl?”

  “You fucking asshole!” Carl hisses, his eyes desperate. “Dirty shit-stain asshole!”

  “My Charmin tendencies notwithstanding, do you calm down or do I pin your ass here until Charlie gets Pastor Dan and we call the cops?” I ask again, quietly.

  “Fine, I'm cool,” Carl says, his struggling stopping. “This isn't over though.”

  I nod, leaning in. “Yes, it is, fuckstick. Listen very, very carefully. I might be on easy street now but don't for one moment think I'm just a pretty boy in music. You leave her alone. She isn't mine, but she ain't yours, not by a long shot. I even hear of you going near her or even contacting her ever again, you're going to need the help of Pastor Dan's boss to ever walk again.”

  I see the fear in Carl's eyes and I step back, keeping my hands up but not making fists. I glance over at Charlie and see that Pastor Dan's actually joined us already, probably after hearing the ruckus in the room. I back away another few steps before turning and leaving the room, Charlie coming up behind me with Pastor Dan. “Ian, what was....”

  I see motion out of the corner of my eye and I duck while stepping back, and Carl's fist slams into the cinderblock wall right where my head had been. The snap of bones in his hand is clearly audible over the sound of him hitting the wall, and he screams, clutching his wounded hand and backing away. “You son of a bitch! Nobody does that to me, you hear!”

  “Carl!” Pastor Dan yells, clearly angry. “I will be speaking with the church elders about this, but for now, consider your position as the NA group facilitator suspended indefinitely. Get out of here before I call the police.”

  Carl backs away, his eyes streaming tears of anger and humiliation. “This isn't over, drummer boy! This is all your fault!”

  I say nothing, keeping my eyes on Carl until he heads up the stairs when I see that the Chinese girl is still there, her eyes still confused. Still, I don't feel any pity for her. She had a chance. “So... that's the kind of men you like hanging out with instead of doing what your best friend offered? If I were you, I'd go beg her for another chance to try and make things up to her, and find yourself another group. Brenda.”

  At the use of her name, Brenda's face crumples with shame, and she turns, running towards the stairs. Part of me says I should go stop her, she's chasing after the same asshole who just tried to sucker punch me, but another part of me doesn't care. In the end, that side of me wins and I watch her go without saying anything.

  In the silence that follows, Charlie and Pastor Dan look at me quietly, still shocked. Finally, Pastor Dan speaks. “Ian, what in the name of the Lord just happened?”

  I turn and look at him, sighing. “Dan, I think you and I need to have a little talk in your office. You might have a wolf in your flock, and while I'm not exactly one of your big members, you don't need that.”

  Dan nods, looking around. “I suppose it'll be a late night for me. Okay, let's talk. Charlie, do you mind locking up the basement?”

  Charlie's good, and I follow the Pastor up to his simple office, which is none too tastefully done in what I can call Early Millennium Cubicle Revamp. Well, I've seen worse. I sit down in the chair Dan offers, but refuse the coffee. “Okay, so it started about a week ago....”

  Chapter 7

  Mary

  “Wow, you clean up really well,” is the first thing out of Ian's mouth when I open the door for him at my place. I can't help it, I blush and turn a little to the side, twisting up on my toes. I don’t have a classic model’s pose, but it seems to work, Ian’s grin widens.

  “Stop, it's just that I'm wearing a blouse instead of a ratty ass t-shirt,” I laugh, biting my lip. “It's still Goodwill Chic, no need to be too complimentary about it.”

  “You are totally a case of the clothes not making the woman, but the woman making the clothes,” Ian says, smiling. He tried to clean up too, his jeans are freshly cleaned, and his shirt is nice, black with a subtle pattern to the texture that you can't see until he moves. “I'm kinda glad I decided to put on the good shirt.”

  “Don't tell me you don't have a suit at all,” I joke as we go to his car, my heart skipping a beat when Ian reaches out and takes my hand. “I mean, two of your friends have gotten married, and I doubt that a lot of places have rental tuxes for guy
s your size.”

  Ian shakes his head, laughing. “No, no rentals. So yeah, I guess I do have a suit, but there's no way I'm wearing that for tonight.”

  “Yeah, you didn't really tell me what your plan was for tonight by the way. Your message this afternoon of be hungry and dress up little leaves a lot to be desired,” I mock complain as we sit down. “I mean, hungry I can always do, dress up a little is kinda vague.”

  Ian stops and thinks, then cranks the engine on his Caddy, nodding. “You're right, my bad. I wanted to not give too much away, guess I kept it too secret. First, I thought we'd fuel up, I got a friend who runs a pretty good gourmet burger joint on the edge of Studio City, and then my label's running a local contest, a battle of the bands. Of course, all the Fragments were invited, but Joey and Rocky were busy, and it's not one of those events that kinda requires our attendance, but I thought... well, the music should be fun and we can just enjoy ourselves. What do you say? Or we can hit up a movie theater, there's a new superhero flick opening this weekend we can probably enjoy.”

  I think about it, then shake my head. “Nah, I like the first idea better. Uh, can I ask you something about that, Ian?”

  “Sure,” he says, relieved as he pulls out into traffic and heads towards the 101. “You don't like burgers? I figured after the diner you were a burger girl.”

  “Burgers? I love a good burger, that's not going to be a problem at all,” I reassure him. “As this is our second date, and well, I'm having a great time talking with you and all... never mind.”

  Ian glances over, his lips quirking in a grin. “You're wondering if I'm trying to keep you on the DL or something. It’s the opposite, I told the guys about you after our very first date. They caught me looking at flowers, apparently.”