dreary London. My eyes close and I begin to think of Marcus - with me, sitting in my front room. He's kissing me and running his large hands all over me. Soon I am hot, bothered and throbbing and I bring myself off. Two or three more times before I'm satisfied.
Truth is, my whole life I've had several guys interested in me. When I was in school, I dated a fair bit. I'm not too bad-looking. I have brown hair with purple highlights dyed in. I have large, deep brown eyes and I'm what you'd call petite. I've liked guys before and I've always wondered if a serious relationship would form. But either they weren't in a position to get into a relationship, or I wasn't in a position to commit to a relationship. When I hear about them from mutual friends, I'm grateful. But I knew from a very young age that music was going to be my life, so I have little patience for anyone who's not worth my time. I'd just as soon be a singlet. Of course, when I meet the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life, I'll figure that out. I've never been a "love 'em or leave 'em" type of girl. Once I get to know someone - if he has the qualities and beliefs I'm looking for - I'll know if it's okay to give him that most special gift.
Still, time rolls on and finally, we're on the road again. Nigel Bosley, our manager, listened to our practice CD and agreed that Laslow is ready to be introduced to our fans, so we are putting on concerts in three towns here in Great Britain. Before the first gig, Laslow is understandably nervous - he runs to the men's loo to lose his stomach before we start. I make a cup of hot ginger tea for him and it settles him right down. When we get onto the stage, we're all nervous and keyed up. We want this concert series to be a success - for me, it's a matter of proving Gemma wrong.
It goes perfectly.
After the first concert, we're wired up. We stop at a pub that's still open and wind down with several pints. I become tipsy and Marcus offers to drive me home. It's a cold night out, so the night air helps me get sobered up pretty fast. By the time Marcus arrives at his flat, I'm back to normal. Still, he invites me in for some coffee before he takes me home.
"Sure, thanks. I know Tim's going to want to go through every second of our concert and critique everything. I need to have a sober head for that," I tell him.
Inside, he makes the coffee, as I sit in his living room. My heart is hammering so heavily that I'm sure he can hear it. I force myself to appear perfectly calm as he puts cups, spoons, creamer and sugar on a tray. The coffee finishes dripping and he brings the carafe to the living room table and pours both of our cups. After we flavor it to our liking, we sit back, sipping and chatting.
Marcus' hand lands on the back of his couch, very near my head. After I finish a sip of my coffee, he begins running his hand through my hair. I panic a bit on the inside. After the concert, I pulled my hair out of its braid and just let it cascade down my back. I really enjoy how his hand feels running through my hair. My eyes close and I breathe in, trying to keep my body from betraying me. It's to no avail - my nipples are growing rock-hard and I'm afraid he's going to see them through the lacy top and cover I'm wearing. I feel my pussy beginning to throb heavily and hot droplets leak out, wetting my thong. I look at Marcus and see that the black of his pupils has almost completely overtaken the emerald-green of his beautiful eyes. He's developing a definite hitch to his breathing. He sets his coffee cup down and takes mine out of my nerveless hands - which are good, because I'm this close to dropping it all over his sofa. He wraps his large hand around the back of my head and slowly pulls me closer to him. Closer, closer, closer we get, until our lips are a hair's breadth away from each other. I feel his warm, coffee-scented breath on my face ...then, oh, glory, he's kissing me! All the strength seeps out of my muscles as I
Truth is, my whole life I've had several guys interested in me. When I was in school, I dated a fair bit. I'm not too bad-looking. I have brown hair with purple highlights dyed in. I have large, deep brown eyes and I'm what you'd call petite. I've liked guys before and I've always wondered if a serious relationship would form. But either they weren't in a position to get into a relationship, or I wasn't in a position to commit to a relationship. When I hear about them from mutual friends, I'm grateful. But I knew from a very young age that music was going to be my life, so I have little patience for anyone who's not worth my time. I'd just as soon be a singlet. Of course, when I meet the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life, I'll figure that out. I've never been a "love 'em or leave 'em" type of girl. Once I get to know someone - if he has the qualities and beliefs I'm looking for - I'll know if it's okay to give him that most special gift.
Still, time rolls on and finally, we're on the road again. Nigel Bosley, our manager, listened to our practice CD and agreed that Laslow is ready to be introduced to our fans, so we are putting on concerts in three towns here in Great Britain. Before the first gig, Laslow is understandably nervous - he runs to the men's loo to lose his stomach before we start. I make a cup of hot ginger tea for him and it settles him right down. When we get onto the stage, we're all nervous and keyed up. We want this concert series to be a success - for me, it's a matter of proving Gemma wrong.
It goes perfectly.
After the first concert, we're wired up. We stop at a pub that's still open and wind down with several pints. I become tipsy and Marcus offers to drive me home. It's a cold night out, so the night air helps me get sobered up pretty fast. By the time Marcus arrives at his flat, I'm back to normal. Still, he invites me in for some coffee before he takes me home.
"Sure, thanks. I know Tim's going to want to go through every second of our concert and critique everything. I need to have a sober head for that," I tell him.
Inside, he makes the coffee, as I sit in his living room. My heart is hammering so heavily that I'm sure he can hear it. I force myself to appear perfectly calm as he puts cups, spoons, creamer and sugar on a tray. The coffee finishes dripping and he brings the carafe to the living room table and pours both of our cups. After we flavor it to our liking, we sit back, sipping and chatting.
Marcus' hand lands on the back of his couch, very near my head. After I finish a sip of my coffee, he begins running his hand through my hair. I panic a bit on the inside. After the concert, I pulled my hair out of its braid and just let it cascade down my back. I really enjoy how his hand feels running through my hair. My eyes close and I breathe in, trying to keep my body from betraying me. It's to no avail - my nipples are growing rock-hard and I'm afraid he's going to see them through the lacy top and cover I'm wearing. I feel my pussy beginning to throb heavily and hot droplets leak out, wetting my thong. I look at Marcus and see that the black of his pupils has almost completely overtaken the emerald-green of his beautiful eyes. He's developing a definite hitch to his breathing. He sets his coffee cup down and takes mine out of my nerveless hands - which are good, because I'm this close to dropping it all over his sofa. He wraps his large hand around the back of my head and slowly pulls me closer to him. Closer, closer, closer we get, until our lips are a hair's breadth away from each other. I feel his warm, coffee-scented breath on my face ...then, oh, glory, he's kissing me! All the strength seeps out of my muscles as I