- Your Eyes
- Published: Nov 1, 2009
- Author: Alan W. Jankowski
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- Category: Short stories
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"Her small pink nipples stood at perfect attention just waiting for my lips and tongue to come along and caress their delicate surface"
One of the things I have always derived pleasure from throughout my life is music. Both listening to music and making it have always been a source of great satisfaction for me. I have been playing guitar and writing songs since I was a young teenager. Like other guys my age I worshiped the rock stars of the day. I watched in awe as they strut their stuff onstage before thousands of screaming young girls who seemingly would have done anything to spend the night with them. Like other guys my age, I went home and practiced my guitar for hours hoping some day that I would get my shot at stardom. Alas, it was never meant to be. Marriage, kids and a host of other responsibilities found their way into my life and soon the only rocking I was doing was rocking my kid to sleep. Somehow, in the back of my mind, I never really did let the dream die.
When I got my divorce at the age of forty five, I was once again free to pursue my favorite pastimes. My hobbies that I had been forced to neglect once again took center stage in my life. I began playing my guitar again on a regular basis and was deriving quite a bit of satisfaction from it. In a few months I had regained most of my dexterity and had a renewed confidence in my playing.
I soon placed an ad in a local music paper looking for other musicians to play with. Most of the guys I knew from my school days were married or were just no longer interested. Starting a band again seemed the furthest thing on their minds.
In a few weeks and several auditions later, I managed to assemble a group of guys who were around my age and seemed to share my enthusiasm for music. This was a real good thing as proper attitude is as important as playing ability in my book. These guys not only played well, but they sincerely enjoyed what we were doing. I could not have asked for anything more.
After a couple of months of regular rehearsals in the basement of our drummer's house, we felt we were ready to show the world our stuff. We auditioned for a local bar and got a regular Wednesday night gig. It was all very fun and quite exciting after twenty years of domestic tranquility.
After a couple of months of playing standard cover tunes at the local bar, I decided we should expand our repertoire. I had written a bunch of songs some years back and shared them with the group. They actually seemed quite impressed with my writing ability though it was unanimously agreed that not all of my material was suitable for the group. We chose four songs originally and started to rehearse these along with our usual selection of rock and blues standards.
While sorting through all my songs I had composed in the past, it occurred to me that I did in fact have quite a variety of songs to my credit. Some were actually quite good if I say so myself. The only one that ever made it onto an album was an anti-drug song I had written some years back called 'My God And Devil'. It was recorded by a friend of mine named Joe Malgeri and appears on his album 'Back In Time.'
I thought about it and thought that maybe there was something I could do with all these songs. Most were never copyrighted. I started to record them all one by one on an old four -track recorder I had. The first thing I had to do to get them copyrighted was to make a recording for the Library Of Congress. Amazingly, they have a copy of every copyrighted book and song ever. It did not take me long as it was done simply with an acoustic guitar and drum machine. It really did not matter that my singing really sucks, as the tape was just for copyright purposes.
After I mailed off the tape and copy of the lyrics to Washington D.C., I started to think of how I was going to attempt to market my wares. I started to send copies of the lyrics to various record companies I thought might be interested based on the type of artists in their roster. The internet sure made life easier in this regard. No postage or hassle of packing cassette tapes and taking them to the local post office to get weighed and stamped.
In a few weeks I actually got a response from one of the record companies. I was elated when I read the news. I danced around the condo in a way totally inappropriate for a grown man. I really did not care. This was very exciting to me, to actually get acknowledged for something I had created. That day I did not care who saw me dance around the living room doing the funky chicken. This 46 year-old was never happier.
The song the record company was interested in was something I had written some time back called 'Your Eyes'. I had written it for acoustic guitar. The artist they wanted to record it was a young folk singer named Cheryl Conroy. She was a 23-year-old who had a regional hit on the east coast. She was popular in the New York metro area but had yet to really make it big. Of course I gave my approval. The song they were interested in went like this:
All that we have been through, All the time we shared. The good times and the bad, It always seemed you cared. Now you're growing distant, Starting to tell lies. You're starting to go away from me, I can see it in your eyes.
We used to love together, Love like we were one. Now we are apart, Our love has come undone. I thought we'd be together, Make the perfect pair. Always thought you'd be there, Always thought you'd care. Now I'm left with questions, A thousand whats and whys, You are no longer mine, I can see it in your eyes.
I'm left with only memories, Of good times that used to be. A thousand laughs and smiles, Will always stay with me. But never again will I feel your arms, Holding me at night. Or experience your charms, Or savor your delight. You walk away and leave me, We say our sad goodbyes, Never to come back, I can see it in your eyes.
It was not a happy song, but folk music is not always happy. It would be touching to see it performed by a beautiful, young blonde haired folk singer. I really was quite elated over the whole idea.
About a month later I was informed that the song had been recorded and was sent a promo copy of the CD. I was really impressed with the job she had done. I played that demo CD over and over for anyone who would listen. I was really quite proud.
A couple of weeks later I heard the song on the radio. I was in my car at the time and had to pull over. It was hard to do the funky chicken while driving down the Garden State Parkway at eighty miles per hour. I was ecstatic.
Shortly afterwards I was informed that Cheryl would be starting a tour of the country to promote her latest CD. I was told that her first concert would be in a club in New York City. This seemed appropriate since she was originally from this area and this is where her fan base was centered. I was also told that Cheryl wanted me to be there as her guest of honor. Two tickets and accompanying back stage passes arrived in the mail shortly afterwards.
It was a bit much for me to take in really. I had always wanted to achieve some level of accomplishment in the music field and this was fine with me. Even though I was 'only' the author of a single by an up and coming young folk singer, it was an amazing achievement for this middle aged guy.
By the time the concert date came around, the song 'Your Eyes' had achieved commercial success as a folk song and had even crossed over into the pop charts. Quite a feat really for a folk ballad. Saying that I was proud did not begin to describe my feelings. Every time I heard it come on the radio a big grin formed on my face. I no longer felt the need to do the funky chicken, but inside my heart and mind were dancing.
The night of the concert arrived and I went with my friend Joe. He was the same guy who had recorded the album with another of my songs on it. He was more knowledgeable about music than just about anyone I knew. He too found it quite impressive that a song I had penned was getting airplay on the radio.
The seats we were given were quite good. The record company had put us right up front and it felt real cool to be wearing my backstage pass around my neck. I felt like a teenager again, sitting there waiting to be awed by a performer on stage.
Looking around at the audience, I could see that her fans came in all colors, sizes and ages. It was not like some of the concerts of my youth where everyone seemed to be a screaming teenager. These were responsible adults, most likely with kids at home or at a friends house. I really had not been to a lot of folk concerts in my life, but I felt I was really going to enjoy this one. It certainly did not hurt that I had written her latest hit single.
There was an opening act that came on about half past eight. She was really a true unknown, but I enjoyed her music. I believe the other members of the audience felt the same as they politely clapped after each song. This was certainly no heavy metal crowd. She played for about forty minutes before acknowledging Cheryl and taking a last bow before leaving the stage.
Finally, about ten o'clock Cheryl took the stage. The audience suddenly became more alive and attentive than it had been previously. These truly were her fans and they came here for one reason and that was to see her perform.
Her onstage presence was really quite riveting. She came out in a peasant dress, her long blond hair dangling in a very seductive fashion on her shoulders. When she turned her back to the audience, which she did a few times, you could catch a glimpse of a rose tattooed on her left shoulder.
Her choice of songs was equally fascinating. She started off with an old Bob Dylan classic and continued with a repertoire that included songs by Kris Kristofferson , Leonard Cohen and Pete Seeger. I wondered how a girl her age could be familiar with such old classics.
Equally fascinating to myself and Joe was her guitar. It was an old Martin HD-28 herringbone acoustic. They are known as such because of the herringbone pattern on the binding that adorns the edges of the instrument. The guitar is old and quite a valuable classic. I was naturally curious about it's history being a fan of classic guitars myself.
As her performance went on, it was clear she had the total attention of everyone in the house. It would be hard to take one's eyes off of such a beautiful young woman singing her heart out on stage before so many people. She held everyone spellbound as her voice conveyed her every emotion. Her voice was as beautiful as her, which really says something.
After her final song, she took a bow and left the stage. The audience rose to their feet and applauded quite loudly. There was a certain amount of hooting and hollering which was a bit of a surprise from this otherwise sedate crowd. After several minutes Cheryl returned to the stage with a bottled water in her hand. She resumed her position in front of the microphone as her guitar roadie handed her guitar to her and took her bottle of water. After placing the colorful woven guitar strap back around her neck she began to sing once more. The first words she sang caused my heart to rise up into my throat. The emotions were very powerful.
"All that we have been through, All the time we shared."
My heart started to race in my chest with excitement. Her voice was so incredibly beautiful and the emotions so powerful. The audience was held spellbound.
"The good times and the bad, It always seemed you cared. Now you're growing distant, Starting to tell lies."
My own emotions were causing my skin to crawl. I was proud of the song, no doubt, but hearing it sung as it was by such a beautiful young woman with such an incredibly beautiful voice was almost too much to bear. I felt so proud. Her moves were so seductive as she stood before the mike. A young, beautiful woman with a guitar is so sexy. It wasn't just her words that were seductive as the emotion was displayed on her pretty face before the crowd of thousands. Suddenly, she glanced my way as she continued to sing.
"You're starting to go away from me, I can see it in your eyes."
Her eyes caught mine as she voiced those words. Her vocals were accompanied by a sly, seductive glance that was clearly aimed at me. I cannot recall a woman ever looking so sexy, nor could I imagine how one could.
As she finished the song the audience rose to it's feet once again and started applauding loudly. It was clear they were all impressed by what they had just witnessed. As Cheryl removed the guitar strap from around her neck and handed off her guitar, once again she caste a sly glance my way. Her deep blue eyes seemed to meet mine. I was once again spellbound.
After a few minutes of applauding, Joe reminded me of our backstage passes. My mind was in another world as I watched Cheryl walk off, a perfect rear view if there ever was one.
Joe and I grabbed a quick hot dog and a beer before heading towards the backstage area. We flashed our backstage passes to the guard and were allowed access.
Once we entered the room, I quickly surveyed the scene. There were plenty of press people and people from the industry. Cheryl noticed my entrance and quickly came my way.
"What did you think?" She asked in an inquisitive tone.
"I loved it. You were wonderful." I answered.
"Yes, that was great." Joe added.
Cheryl smiled at me with a huge toothy grin. Her deep blue eyes met mine once again. I almost could not believe how incredibly sexy she looked up close. It was hard for me to believe she could actually look sexier than she did onstage.
Cheryl led me around and introduced me to everyone that mattered. I was proud to be introduced as the guy who wrote her hit song, but my mind was roaming elsewhere. I was truly captivated by this young woman. Her every move, every word was incredibly seductive. She looked so casual in her peasant dress and flat shoes, yet she had a sexiness that was indescribable. The phrase natural beauty may have been coined to describe her.
After the introductions ended, Cheryl went off to talk to some friends. I continued to converse with some of the industry people while Joe went off and did his thing. I was mostly talking shop and discussing how I could further promote some of my material. It is amazing how willing to talk to you some of these music executives become once you have a hit song to your credit.
After what I would guess to be about an hour Cheryl came over to me. She touched my shoulder and led me aside. I had been somewhat absorbed in my music conversations but could not resist such an attractive young woman.
"Want to go someplace more quiet?" She asked. She smiled as she spoke.
I answered in the affirmative. I doubt any heterosexual man could have done otherwise.
I followed Cheryl out of the reception area. She had her guitar sitting on the floor in it's hard case. She grabbed the instrument and I followed her out a back door.
"Those things always get boring after a while." She noted.
Once again I agreed. How could I do otherwise?
We hailed a cab and she gave the cabbie directions.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Back to my hotel." Was her response, "You don't mind, I hope?"
I didn't mind and made that perfectly clear. I figured Joe could fend for himself at this point. Not that I really cared. My mind was racing in other directions.
We arrived at the hotel minutes later. I paid the fare and we walked inside. Once we got up to the room Cheryl seemed more relaxed. She had a comfortable look on her face that only heightened her appeal. My thoughts were racing out of control.
"Have a seat." She told me.
I did as she said. Cheryl then got us both a drink from the mini-bar and handed me one. She then sat down and opened the guitar case. She started to strum the old Martin. Her turning the conversation towards music made me feel more relaxed. As much as I wanted her, I was not sure it was appropriate. But a hot looking young woman did invite me up to her hotel room nonetheless.
"That is a beautiful old Martin." I remarked.
"Thank you." She replied, "It belonged to my uncle."
Cheryl began to explain how her uncle had been a huge influence in her life. He taught her how to play guitar and taught her many of the songs she now performs. By the time she was a teenager she knew how to play literally hundreds of folk songs on guitar.
"My uncle loved folk music. And the Beatles." She smiled as she spoke.
"I know some Beatles songs." I said somewhat proudly.
She handed me the old Martin. I took hold of it carefully. It was quite a beautiful instrument. All the varnish on the neck was warn smooth from years of playing. The guitar was in remarkable condition save for areas like the neck which were warn smooth from years of loving use.
"Do you have a favorite Beatles album?" I asked.
"Rubber Soul." She answered.
"Really? Mine too." I was surprised in a very good way.
I held the gorgeous old Martin and began to strum as the gorgeous young Cheryl looked on.
"I just seen a face I can't forget the time or place Where we just met She's just the girl for me And I want all the world to see."
I started singing as Cheryl looked on smiling. When we got to the next part Cheryl joined in.
"Falling, yes I'm falling And she keeps calling Me back again."
I continued my singing of the album as Cheryl looked on approvingly. It was hard to believe she actually approved of my singing, but we were both having fun. Must have been the drinks.
When I got to 'Norwegian Wood' it was clear from her expression that Cheryl had a special fondness for the song.
" I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me... She showed me her room, isn't it good, Norwegian wood?"
Cheryl just smiled at me and glanced my way with those big blue eyes. As I sang the next line, Cheryl suddenly joined in.
"I sat on a rug, biding my time, drinking her wine, We talked until two and then she said, "It's time for bed"
Her exuberance stunned me. She suddenly caught herself and reached out and touched my hand. It was very clear we were both thinking the same thing.
I laid the old Martin carefully back in it's case. Cheryl took my hand and started to lead me to the bedroom. My exuberance overtook me and I suddenly grabbed her and hoisted her over my shoulder. She let out a loud laugh.
"Oh, what's up?" She giggled as she spoke. I thought this a loaded question.
"It's your eyes." I answered, "They drive me wild."
I carried her into the bedroom and put her down before me on the big bed. I looked in her eyes. They really were stunning. Her young face with it's perfect features was a feast for my eyes.
I eased forward and embraced her luscious lips with mine. Her long blond hair teased my face and shoulders in a seductive manor. I savored the flavor of her lips as our tongues began to dance a lover's dance.
I began to take my own clothes off as Cheryl watched and smiled. She was kind enough to help me with my underwear.
As I stood before her in my nakedness, I began to remove the soft dress that covered that perfect young body. I took my time as I removed every article. As each inch of flesh became exposed, I delicately caressed the newly exposed area with my finger tips and tongue.
I carefully reached back and un-hooked her bra. I removed the straps from her shoulders with my teeth revealing perfect round orbs of delight. Her small, pink nipples stood at perfect attention just waiting for my lips and tongue to come along and caress their delicate surface.
I once again kissed her on those inviting lips then made my way down her chest as my hands lovingly fondled those perfect globes. I traced a coat of saliva down her smooth, flat stomach inching ever closer to the prize that awaited me.
I grabbed the top of her lace trimmed panties with my teeth as I inched them down slowly, my fingers caressing her lovely smooth thighs and butt. When my efforts were rewarded with the sight of a neatly trimmed bush, I worked my lips and tongue back up her inner thighs, occasionally pausing to nibble delicately at her gorgeous skin.
The delicate, blonde hairs teased my face as I began to caress her every fold with my tongue and lips. I parted the soft, moist entrance to her waiting love canal with my fingers as I slowly inserted a couple digits and began to apply massaging pressure to her G-spot. Cheryl began to moan with delight as I worked my finger tips in rhythm with my tongue movements on her clit.
Her moans began to increase in frequency and intensity as I worked her over with my loving moves. Her responses were a signal to me that she needed more than my tongue and fingers. I took my fingers, which were now quite wet with her love juices, and grabbed my engorged member and slowly guided it into her tight, young pussy. The feeling of our melding together caused us both to emit sounds of pleasure.
I began to thrust into her slowly at first, then my thrusts became harder and more urgent. Cheryl wrapped her legs around me like she never wanted to let go. Our thrusting turned to wild abandon as we both attempted to get closer to each other. For a time, it was as if we had become one. Her tight, young vaginal muscles gripped me as if holding on for dear life as she squeezed every last drop out of my throbbing member. The pleasure overtook my body as my mind was overcome with sheer delight.
When it was over, we laid on the bed and cuddled for some time. After a while we got the old Martin and sat on the bed taking turns strumming the guitar and singing while naked. It was a delightful sight to see her young breasts rest on top of the old guitar as she sweetly serenaded me with her beautiful voice.
When morning came, we kissed and parted ways. Cheryl had a concert tour to complete and I had other obligations. It was however, a great time I will never forget. Nor will I ever forget those eyes.
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