Fiddling Around, pleasant -- Part 3  

PathAddict 45M
12 posts
4/15/2006 9:25 am
Fiddling Around, pleasant -- Part 3

(See Parts I and II in previous posts)

Finally… “last call!”

She finished her drink, and ordered herself another. I tried to pay, but she coolly declined; I was beginning to worry that I had misread her signals, or that I had crossed the line and was getting the brush-off. I had already begun to entertain fantasies of how our rendezvous would unfold ‒ would we undress slowly, or all at once? would she be a bold lover? in what position would she ask to be fucked? ‒ and in the possibility of having miscalculated the situation, my arousal was turning into panic.

Half of the guys in her band had already returned to their suites, as had a couple of my bandmates. I wished desperately that the hold-outs would take the hint and leave, even though I was bending over backwards *not* to drop any hints: a lose-lose situation if there ever was one. I was beginning to conclude that the evening would go down as one of unconsummated titillation.

An uneventful hour later, the five of us climbed up the dark stairwell to street level and made our way up the paving stone street toward our suites. The sky was clear, but it had rained at some point during the evening: the road was damp, and the air was crisp with the fragrance of stone and mulch from the surrounding flowerbeds. The conversation among us was quiet and intermittent; perhaps each was comfortable in remaining privately attuned to the air, the post-club ringing in our ears, and the light euphoria of alcohol and second-hand drugs. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have felt virile and invincible. Given how events had panned out with her, however, I felt like I had lost a winning lottery ticket.

The contract that we had with the resort afforded us enough rooms for every two or three band members. In my band, this meant that three guys shared one two-room suite, and my best friend, Adam, and I shared another. There were six members in her band, which would have divided evenly among three rooms, but she had insisted that, being the only woman, she have a suite to her herself. And so she did, end of discussion.

We arrived first at the complex of suites where her band was staying, at the end closest to the guys’ rooms. As they went in, one threw back a half-joking caution: “Make sure she gets some sleep!” “No fucking each other without protection!” she retorted. Their laughter disappeared behind the lobby door. Adam, she, and I continued up the road to her end of the complex.

The entrance to her suite was in view, and I was reveling in self-pity. Sensing that I was being watched, though, I looked toward her, and found her staring at me, much like she had been earlier that evening. Instinctively, I leaned slightly towards her, as it seemed to have something to say.

The message came clearly, but quietly: “see you here in a few minutes.”

... more later

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