Covert.

All that takes place here is much like the credits at the beginning of Star Wars.

Well,if Star Wars was a porno with a fine line in longing,a tasty soundtrack,Gibson guitars,the tirany of distance and secrecy.It takes place long,long ago and in a galaxy far away.(Libido centuri?)  I wish that this text was yellow and scrolling back into the ether just to set the scene…..

I wanted him more than he wanted me.I always did or so I thought. My desire was far too raw,a butchers bloody window of fleshy desire, no subtlety to me whatsoever. He was far too cool for that kind of action and I wanted him far too much to put on the dog and try to play some bullshit reindeer game.It was never my forte. Me,raised around too many men,sturdy with logic and no time for my whims or locked in my imagination I had neither the protocol let alone the right wiles. In hindsight and much retrospect I cant be sure if he really ever wanted me at all or if the blunt force trauma of my determination KO’d him and got him disorientated and high on the attention.

Had him on the ropes.

Who can say?

I would spend weeks working out what I would wear when I saw him again (“Aw! This old thing?….”) and hope that he would be nice to me. Smartypants lads are often cruel in their majesty and  what can I tell you ? It got me wet. He realized that he had the upper hand all along and he was merciless and cruel with it.Me,used to hanging out with dolts and dullards,used to settling for dim asses ,chock-o-block full to the dizzy limit with wasted potential was floored by his desert dry and staggering wit not to mention his ferocious intellect.I would get sweaty at the mere thought of our next conversation.

That look that could stop me in my tracks.A casual hand in the small of the back dropping to cup my over aerobicized runners ass when no one was looking.

Did I bewitch him? I bloody well hope so. He did me.

He inspired fantastic songs and x-rated journal entries .Postcards from around the world. Bottles of wine sent express.Incredible birthday gifts wrapped in tissue paper the color of angel farts and expensive lingerie of the black and lacy persuasion to be worn under my rock finery ,you know,just in case. We would run into each other in the dark borne on bass heavy waves of sound. At shows. Heat seeking missiles. The 1st time he ever kissed me was in a doorway outside of a Slayer show.I had been waiting for it for years and when it happened he pulled back smirking and I begged for another chance as the shock had been to great to adequately respond…

“Next time” he grinned,tucking my teen-aged heart into his pocket next to his cock and car keys and strolled off leaving me dispirited,my ears ringing and jelly kneed  in the echoing shadows. The prick.

The illicit link stayed forged and filthy between us for years.It was perfect to me as it did not exist and we as a quantity remained unknown and undiscovered.I have no idea why this was so important but it was spicy as hell. He didn’t want me,well maybe just a little ( just enough?)…so it was never solidified outside of us. No one ever knew what we meant to each other.It was ours alone. In a time of mass information and over-sharing I can’t stress how precious this was.

I knew of a  shadowy permanent thing in his real life and I am ashamed to say that I didn’t really care. There was no practicality in us.As two alphas we would have burned each other out.Boys like him went for more docile options on a day to day basis but I loved that as time went by that he wanted me more and more,as I did him…..

Our chemical reaction to each other scary in its intensity.

I would see him hanging with other girls with slightly unfortunate profiles and heavy thighs at various shows,our world so small when ever I was back in the country fresh off tour. Flattered by the fact that they were blurred facsimiles of my essence,the hair,the clothes…That I was his type come hell or high water….I would go and say hello looking devastating and being ever- so -sweet to the little chicky-poo by his side.

Flicking my hair and saying “How nice to meetcha” I would kiss him clandestinely on the cheek and saunter away leaving the girl goggled eyed in my wake “I didn’t know you were friends with her!” they would say and I would catch him rolling his eyes .He the same height as me,as fast as me,as smart as me…. and mooch back to my friends feeling his eyes burning into my  back as his ding-a-ling-du-jour twittered away by his side.

“You hot bitch!” the screen on  my phone barked as I looked up and locked eyes with him looking dangerous by the cigarette machine.

“Wheres your date?” I typed back flicking my mile of midnight hair.

“Her friends dragged her to some bar”

“Aw! Poor you….”

“Fuck you Michele,meet me upstairs in five”

“Say please….”

Of course I did.

Can I tell you that these were the stolen moments that sustained me? Over many oceans,continents and tours. Precious and seemingly eons apart.I horded them.I would have killed with my bare hands to protect them. That he had told me that I was too much for him? But that my satisfaction came from the fact that he couldn’t stay away.That we couldn’t leave each other alone and that I abstained from all other folly because no one else could come close so why bother? That we wove a world with words,riffs and electricity.That we were friends first and foremost. That I admired him as much as I desired him.That while he was out fucking all and sundry for all I know ( oh you faithless rock and roll boys…) that I actually stayed faithful to something that consisted of ,at this point, five kisses over four years.

I am not kidding.

And then we did.

Inevitable really….

And that it was as great as I knew it would be.

After six long years of mutual mental masturbation,about a zillion emails and  great friendship.It was amazing. We stole time.Two thieves. Me from my pirates life, he from his high powered civilian shackles.All care and no responsibility taken.Honey dipped bulls let loose in the china shop of fuck. We met half way and detonated. He came to me wrapped in a suit for one stolen hour. I opened the door,looking like a tight laced secretary,hair up and panties soon to be down and swooned,our eyes nothing but pupils dilated with pure greed.. He walked straight into my arms and my mouth,swept me off my high heeled feet kicking the door shut behind him.

I am surprised that we even made it to the bedroom as he tended to inspire rug burn and impassioned middle eights.

I lay half tangled on the bed,black dress peeled open,hold up stocking and black lace underwear covering all the fun parts.I got up on my knees and crawled slowly to him and stood behind him as he  undressed our eyes locked in the mirror,I draped myself over him and we burned.I licked his shoulder,his salt on my pointed tongue.My hair fell like a chestnut curtain and I smiled from behind it.I drank his scent.He turned and pushed me down onto the bed,the long awaited weight of him,his skin hot on mine.

I got slowly unwrapped by maddeningly patient and slow hands,his lips and fingertips burning me,that eternal smirk on his face going lower and lower. My cool non existent,his power and dominion complete.

He propped himself above me “Look at you” he sighed.

When we kissed I tasted my cunt on his tongue and came undone.

He made me beg and I did.

He fucked me senseless.

His hands over mine,pushing them deep into the mattress.I watched our string callused fingers endlessly explore each other.I wanted it to last but I knew I couldn’t hold back any longer.Too many years in the making you see? I came so hard I saw stars and with a shuddering sob deep into our unbroken kiss.I felt his lips curve upward into a satisfied grin beneath mine and wrapped my mile long fishnet clad legs around his waist pulling him in deeper as he followed my trailblazing ass to orgasm city.

It was as earth shaking as I imagined it would be. Eye to eye in the shower we kissed under the spray,hands hungry and slick with soap.I tried to horde every second before he donned his grown up disguise and left me leaning jelly legged in the front doorway like a low rent Blanche Dubois,hair wrapped in a towel,newly extracted heart bloody and dripping from the sleeve of my robe……

When I saw him next we brought our A-game. Surrounded by our friends in public at his show.

” Hey!” he exclaimed hugging me breezilylooking like butter wouldn’t melt in his pants  “What have you been up to?”

“Oh,you know” I smiled back into his eyes “Not much…”

He just laughed as I stood there moist and hungry.

We made out in the bathroom before he played.

Of course.

Fumbling thumbs text clumsy post stolen moment. “You are still the best kisser” I type as I let the wall hold me up side of stage as I watch you up there yet again. You reply hours later coming down in a van on the way back to your life post show. I am in bed,slightly dazed from both the make out and the music,my ears ringing and my phone beeps.

I reach over and open the message smiling at your name on my screen,

“Duh.x”

I laugh out loud and know that I will know you forever.