by Dee Dawning
She thrived in the bawdy, frenetic environment in which she found herself.
What's happening to me? Am I a slut?
His throbbing prick, played a serenade with her hungry, lust-moistened depths. He stroked her lazily and sensually—each stroke titillating her mind with pleasure strands. Every stroke of Hogan’s cock sent waves of pleasure from her pussy through her body and brought forth a soft yelp from her throat.
Endless as the sweet torture seemed, eventually Hogan pushed her to the brink of orgasm. Spasms of joy surged through her body and coalesced at her core, the impending climax building layer upon layer. And then it came bursting forth in a blaze of red hot glory, a level of intensity she’d never felt before. “My God, I'm coming. Don't stop. Fuck me harder—faster.” Frenzied, she moved erratically as a psychedelic rainbow played across her mind and an explosion of blissfulness careened through her.
Carol's climax had barely finished when Hogan flipped her onto her elbows and knees like she was a feather. She gasped, when he spread legs and shoved two fingers into her from behind. Next, he replaced his fingers with his cock and drilled her doggy style. His hefty cock pummeled her at a medium tempo and she welcomed every pounding thrust. "Rossi, I'll bet Carol would like it if you massaged her love button."
"You goy it, Hogie." Rossi did more. He slid underneath her, kissing and tonguing her sensitive pearl. Every kiss, every lick spurred a delicious throb of jarring pleasure through her body, matching the enjoyment Hogan was giving her.
Petey observed, "Wow, Carol's primo breasts are rocking back and forth as Hogie pounds her."
Al Looked over. "That is so fucking hot."
Petey took one of the orange sized breasts in his hand and played with it.
Carol was overwhelmed by the sensations that showered her mind and body. In a breathy whisper, practically sobbing from emotion, she encouraged Hogan. "Fuck me, fuck me hard, lover. Give me every inch of your big fat dick."
Zach knelt down in front of her and stuck his shaft in her mouth. Grabbing fistfuls of her long hair he guided her mouth up and down his cock, while Al massaged her behind and worked his forefinger into her ass startling her with the dark need she felt there.
With each stoke feeling like a whip of delight, her mind clouded with lust, and the tickly stirrings of an orgasm began. "Jesus, I'm coming again." It came in a white hot blaze of glory. Her pussy rippled along his length, sucking at him as she erupted into a nugget of screaming pleasure. "Don't stop baby, pound my hot pussy." Supersonic pulses of energy shot to every outpost of her body. Waves of pleasure flooded over her, climaxing in a sudden exhilarating, erotic explosion
To her surprise after only a few dozen strokes Hogan followed her. "Oh fuck baby. I can't hold it anymore, I'm coming." He brutally ground into the backside of her pussy. He groaned loudly and jerked spasmodically as waves of delight obviously shot through his body.
No sooner had Hogan pulled out than Al filled the void sliding his thick hardness into her passion-moistened depths as if they were in a tag team fuck-a-thon. Carol cried out in unadulterated pleasure. He wrapped his arm around her waist and rolled to the left, dragging her with him. She started to panic, but Al calmed her, "Easy baby. We're just going to do something a little different."
Ending up on their sides he fucked her from behind and played with her right breast. She continued to suck on Zach's cock and he kneaded her other breast and flicked her sensitive nipple.
"Petey could you raise her leg and rub her love button?"
Petey did even more. He bent down and while Al fucked her with his big dick, he licked and sucked on the most sensitive thing on her body, her clitoris, bringing on another orgasm.
Carol loved the passion she felt and received. She was their willing plaything and she reveled in it, for everything she gave to them she received back five-fold. This was the way sex should be enjoyed, intense, constant, and uninhibited with multiple stimulation.
However, as they went on, fucking her for hours, she began to feel overwhelmed. The quantity and intensity of erotic sensations bombarding her in the form of hands, lips, tongues and writhing, slick friction overloaded her. A fog descended over her as she slipped into an erotic haze. Everything slowed and melded together. She still felt every fantastic thing that happened, but remembered less and less…
* * * *
Carol couldn't have had more than three hours sleep when she woke. She rose onto her elbows and surveyed the scene. The boys obviously shoved the beds together, because all the Maidenheads were in bed with her. She glanced down. Rossi's hand rested on her left breast and Zach's hand covered her blonde pubis. She gently moved their hands and slipped off the bed.
If she moved furtively she might be able to leave without disturbing them. She grasped her suitcase and slipped into the bathroom dressing quickly and quietly in low rise bells and a fringed vest. She'd stop at a restaurant on the way back to LA to put her make up on. She did take her coral lipstick out and after applying it to her lips, wrote a message on the mirror.
I WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER LAST NIGHT. SORRY TO FUCK AND RUN, BUT IT'S BETTER THIS WAY.
LOVE, CAROL
Carol managed to leave the room without disturbing any of her sleeping lovers. As she quietly closed the motel room door, she admired her brand spanking new, pink Thunderbird. Wasn't it lovely? All she had to do to get it was say, 'I will'. It had been an engagement present. That was eight months ago. In a week she would have to complete the other half of the Faustian bargain by saying, 'I do'.
She was about to marry a man thirty-seven years older than her, a man she didn’t love, all because he’d promised to make her a star. She was a good actress and she knew it, but the rules were stacked against beautiful women.
She threw her suitcase in the trunk and her carry-all bag on the passenger seat and started the car. After she backed out, she looked longingly at the door, from which she came and cried a single sob, then drove off.
As she wove her way down the coastal highway, images of her magical night played across her mind like a pornographic slide show. She had no idea how many orgasms she'd had—she'd lost track at ten—maybe twenty, maybe fifty. She did know one thing though. Her sexy liaison would live in her memory until she took her last breath. It was the way sex should be, passionate, uninhibited, erotic with no interruption of the overwhelming stimulation.
Now that I know just how fucking hot sex can be, will I be able to settle for one man—one old man?
Carol had a lot to think about on her five-hour trip to LA.
Epilogue
After raising a minor stir in the music industry, Maidenhead broke up, their shot at stardom killed by Viet Nam. Hogan, Al and Rossi got draft notices. Hogan headed for Canada, as Rossi headed for Da Nang after boot camp. Al picked his torture and joined the Air Force. Petey, attended a big East Coast college and got a deferment. And Zach? He skated with a four-A deferment, because he'd once had hepatitis.
Zach kicked around Wichita for a few months, and then decided to see it he could succeed solo. He earned a living, but Wichita was no place to make it big or even small. Besides he couldn't get her out of his mind. He'd only known her for one night, but she'd become the standard by which, he judged sexy, beautiful women. Some would say Carol was a floozie, a slut, a tramp. But he didn't see it that way. She’d only done what any man, if he was truthful, wanted her to do—let herself go and experience something totally amazing.
His friends were all gone and the women he went out with didn't measure up to Carol. He was lonely and after giving it some thought, moved to Hollywood. Carol still burned brightly in his memory, so he guessed he'd write a song about her. It took fifteen minutes to pen, One Night With Carol, and eleven months to get anyone to take a chance on recording. It hit number eighty-nine nationally and thirty-seven in the Los Angeles top forty. Very disappointing, but someone from a movie studio liked it and called his agent.
April 15, 1971, Dorothy Chandler Pavilion
&
nbsp; Zach and his date, Carol sat about fifteen rows back on the right side. Not thee Carol, but another, beautiful, long legged a starlet named Carol. It was amazing how much your popularity increased when you were nominated for an Oscar and One Night With Carol had been nominated after being picked and featured in a movie called Carol's Adventure. I wonder if my Carol has seen the movie or even heard the song.
Four songs had been nominated and performed on stage. His was second. After the last song had played, the mc announced the next presenters. "To present the awards for best musical score and best song are comedian Bill Richards and rising star, Carol Lansing."
As the pair walked gracefully out, Zach's stomach jumped into his throat. My Carol. It was her, elegant in a flowing, full length, black, evening gown. Her hair was up, but he would know her anywhere. He'd heard the name before, but had failed to put it together with his Monterey dream-girl.
After the winners for best musical score had given their thanks and exited, the presenters remained and approached the podium. The comedian Bill Richards spoke, "And now to present the best song in a movie." He handed the envelope to her. "Carol would you like to have the honor?"
She snatched the envelope. Said, "Damned straight," then smiled at him demurely.
A smattering of laughter filtered through the audience and died.
Carol opened the envelope and announced, "The winner for best song is." She pressed the announcement to her breasts as her other hand went to her mouth. "One Night With Carol, by Zachary Reynolds. Oh, I love that song."
She knew the song and he bet she knew it was for her. Zach smiled like he'd never smiled. He'd hit a milestone—the Oscar—and…discovered who his dream-girl really was. As Zach rose to accept his award, everyone including his date congratulated him. His mind spun, yet focused on one thing. There would be galas and parties tonight and for perhaps the rest of the week. Lots and lots of celebrations, and she would be at some of them.
The End
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Playing With the Band
Copyright © 2011 Dee Dawning
Cover art by Dee Dawning
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are eighteen or older.
Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, New Dawning International Bookfair.
