Compensation, an erotic tale by AchtungNight. Celebs: Lindsay Pagano. Codes: MF, oral, interracial, cons. Disclaimer: This story contains graphic sexual situations and adult themes and is therefore not suitable for those under age 18 or the close-minded. It may be illegal in some areas too. :( Please also note that it is not a true story, instead merely a fantasy. Real events may be referenced and real names, likenesses, and other personal details of celebrities and other real people may be part of the story- however they are used in a fictional manner styled to the author's liking that may be satirical at times. The author has never met any of the celebrities used herein, so he has no way of knowing if they really act the way they do in the story, and is confident that they probably don't. One hopes that these facts do not keep you, the reader, from enjoying the story. Acknowledgements: Thanks as usual to all who have aided in the creation of this story, even those who have done so without knowing it. Thanks also to those who maintain sites for stories like this, and to all those who write for them, read them, and otherwise keep them alive. Thanks especially go out to those who have sent this author feedback. If after reading this story you desire to do the same, please email feedback to me at the address in my profile (DougElder21@yahoo.com). All feedback, with the exception of flames and spam, will be answered and appreciated. I hope you like this story. If not, please tell me why you didn't so I may learn of my mistakes. Copyright: This story is my creation. All other stories which are referenced or otherwise paid homage herein belong to their respective creators. This story may be posted anywhere on the Internet that is free to access and has my permission- please email me for such. The inclusion of this disclaimer and proper credit will be all that I ask. Notes: The star of this tale is Lindsay Pagano, a great young singer whom I hope will continue to gift us fans with her talent. The songs quoted herein are hers. Hope you enjoy this story. It is dedicated in memory of the late Clifford Antone. That said, on with the show! *********************************** Compensation July 2006 Austin, TX "All I need... is everything you are, everything you are..." Do you remember that song? No, I didn't either. Not until I met the singer, and she reminded me. Now I recall it from a while back, a few years ago. Wasn't it on some Internet service commercial? Yeah, it was. The song's still around, still a good one even if people don't remember it. There's emotion in it, heart, feeling. Great lyrics also, and a tempo of diverse chords stunningly blended together. For good reason, the song was a hit in its day. It's not the only good tune on its album either- just the only one that ever made it to the big time. All the other songs are also good. Some are mellow, others are sweet. Still others put forth an important message. None are typical teen pop, they're more rock or blues. All can be catchy. But they are rarely heard, even though the emotions in their words are often felt. Why? Time, idiots, and other stupid reasons. "Love can be complicated, too often mistranslated. One word for all dynamics leads to problematics. Emotions and affections, feelings in all directions. Sometimes a simple action creates satisfaction..." Have you heard that part of the song? You wouldn't unless you heard it on the radio or the album. The commercial only used the chorus. That's how it is with songs sometimes- you pick out the parts you like and disregard the others. Occasionally you may even lash out at the singer for even including those others. But to them, all the words, all the notes, are important. Ask anyone who creates- any engineer, any artist, any writer. They'll tell you they're proud of every little piece they put into their final product. Every single little step they take on their journey is one they cherish, whatever its benefits. The witnesses to their creation, they believe, should also be willing to appreciate every step. But of course we're not. We pick and choose. We take the parts of the picture that make sense to us and we interpret them how we will. Some we remember and praise, others we mock and then seem to forget. The girl who sings this song got a lot of bad reviews when her album came out. It sold a lot of copies, but the critics hated it. However, she still kept her career despite their opinion. She did not let them boo her offstage. For every critic, she knew, there were a lot of other people who loved her. They told her so in letters, in interviews, and of course every time they listened to her sing. "And as long as you are mine, I will take the time... to let you know what I feel, cause... All I need... is everything you are. And if you ever fall, I'll be here.... Standing in the shadow of my heart..." Her name is Lindsay Pagano. She's a nice-looking little thing. Long black hair, Italian-Jewish descent, dark eyes that frequently have a knowing look in them. She's small and young, but you can tell she has experience. She has great wisdom in her- it's evident in everything she does. The girl's just twenty years old, and she's already successful. They didn't just use her hit song in a commercial. It also made it onto the soundtrack of a popular movie and became the theme of a short-lived TV show. Paul McCartney himself sang with Lindsay on the album. She's also worked with a lot of other industry professionals, all of whom appreciate her. Everything she puts out is full of her own personal style, soul, and attitude. I may not have remembered her music that much until recently, but now I know I love it all. Other people don't love it. She's gotten bad reviews, like I said. There have also been lame emails, stupid parody songs, and other disappointing bits of so-called fan mail. I know because she told me. We've talked quite a bit in the past couple weeks. "Cherish his love for chatter, mind games over matter... I'm not looking for suggestions. More answers- with questions!" My name is Nick Shang. I'm a roadie, specfically a light and sound engineer. I work for musicians in Austin, Texas, a city that is often called the Live Music Capital of the World. I do most of my work here at Antone's, one of the city's best nightclubs. It was the breakout arena for many great stars, including Stevie Ray Vaughn, the Fabulous Thunderbirds, and Guy Forsyth. Numerous rock and blues legends have played here, everybody from old favorites like BB King and Muddy Waters to newer talents like Del Castillo and Wide Awake. Every time a famous musician comes to Austin, they usually end up visiting this place. They are always welcomed, and many are blessed. Clifford Antone, the man who built this club, died earlier this year, but his legacy lives on. As do the musicians he's helped. One of them, Lindsay, is here performing at his club tonight. There are many fans of hers in the audience, and those who aren't her fans are probably becoming so rapidly. If not, well, at least most of them seem to be sticking around for the show they paid for. And they seem pretty enthusiastic too. Some seem to have been enjoying the performance, though with most I can't tell. But one thing is evident. They're all paying attention, eager for what comes next. "There's nothing you could ever say, boy, to make me wanna walk away. And as long as you are mine, I will remind..." I take that back. Maybe they're not really full of anticipation. Perhaps they're impatient for this to be over with. I think about all the possible reactions as I shake my head and crack my knuckles. I've had to do this several times throughout the concert. The routine of flashes and noise I'm doing is complicated. It requires a lot of attention and on-the-spot innovation. Lindsay wanted something that would get the public's interest, yet was in keeping with the low-key image she likes to project. I was glad to help her, I've given similar assistance to a lot of musicians during my career. What, you want to know more about me? Ok, let's see. I'm twenty-three, Asian-American, well-built. I'm told I'm good-looking. Fill in the rest of the picture however you like. The important thing is that I'm well-versed in my craft. I studied the science of special effects at UT-Austin and I've been practicing my art since I was a kid. Just like Lindsay, I may seem young, but I've really been in this business a while. I am not an amateur. She isn't either, I think to myself as she finishes her song and bows for the crowd before starting the next one. They clap for her, and for me too, I hope. I've been doing quite a bit of work for Lindsay this night. Every flash of light on the stage, every sound from her voice, it's all been thanks to me that the audience has heard it. I set up her speakers, her lights, her background noise. The keyboard I've been playing broadcasts her tunes. Yes, this is her concert, it's her that brought them here. But me, I'm the one who's making things happen. The audience just doesn't know it, or if they do, they're ignoring me, concentrating on her. It always happens. I sometimes wish... "Romeo, lay down your ego..." Thanks, Lindsay. Good reminder. It's not all about me. This is about you. The crowd knows that, and so should I. I'm just a little symbiote, a necessary part of the magic you're making. I didn't create the magic alone. You laid it all out with me before the show got started. Now I'm helping you bring it forth. And just like you, I love my job. *** An hour or so later, the concert's over. The crowd has clapped and cheered, then most have gotten up and left. A few have stayed behind, and Lindsay's been signing autographs for them. I've been watching as I nurse my drink at the bar. Right now she's speaking with a dedicated fan who's telling her how much he loved the album she put out all those years ago. He still listens to it often, he says, and thinks fondly of its songs and of her. Lindsay smiles, gives him a hug, and tells him she'll have more music out one day soon. She's still weaving tunes and delighting most who listen. The few who dare to speak out negatively don't get her down, nor do the many who seem to ignore her siren's call. "Nick! Hey Nick!" I turn and see her standing beside me. "Lindsay. Can't take my eyes off you for a minute." She beams, returning my grin. "Thanks for the show. You did a great job." "You too." I salute her with my glass. "What you drinking?" she asks. "Vodka and tonic." I take a sip. "You're a little young for it." "In this state, yeah," Lindsay sighs. She gestures at the bartender on duty tonight. "You have any carbonated water?" He nods and puts some down. I glance back at the fan she was talking with, see him give me a thumbs-up before he walks away. Thanks, I think in his direction, raising my glass in a toast. Nice to be appreciated. "That was a local writer," Lindsay says. "He said he was anyway. I'm not sure I've ever heard his name before tonight." She speaks the name and I frown, finding it somewhat familiar but not easily placed. I shrug. "There's a lot of writers in Austin." "A lot of strange people too," she agrees. "I like it, though." I nod. "So do I." "Well, of course. You grew up here." I smile, glad she remembered. We've become fast friends, Lindsay and me. She's only been in Austin two weeks, but the concert she just finished took a lot of setting up. We got to know each other during the preparations. She likes me, I sometimes think. I flirt with Lindsay as much as I do with any young pretty girl, and she always smiles and laughs. Never once have I had to assure her to calm down, remind her I don't really mean it. Or do I mean it? In my fantasies, maybe, I chuckle to myself. She returns my smile, then sits down next to me. "I was thinking about my next album." I recall that album's the reason Lindsay's in town. Her fans have been clamoring for the release almost two years, but she hasn't had much time to work on it with college and everything else in her life. Lindsay's talent is important to her, but it's not the only thing that is. She has to find a way to settle herself to exercise her talent. That's why she left home and decided to spend most of the summer in a place that has nurtured many musicians. She's been working on her next album a lot recently, and she thinks it's really starting to flow. "Have you decided on the title yet?" "No," Lindsay says. "But I'll have something soon. The rhythm is more important to me." "Yeah," I laugh. "You vary it so much people sometimes have difficulty keeping up." She smirks. "You did well enough." She takes a sip, then regards me with her eyes. "You know, I have a few more concerts while I'm in town." "Right. Cliffy set them up before he died." Lindsay nods. "I wish he could have been here to see them. He was good to a lot of musicians." "Truly a patron saint of the blues." "Yeah," she agrees. "And so many didn't even know who he was until after his death." "That's true of a lot of folk who help stars shine," I say. "People approach to look at the stars, and rarely they regard their supporting players." "But the supporting players are always there." "Yeah." We stare at each other for a moment, then look away. For a second her expression troubles me. No, I tell myself, we're kidding acquaintances, nothing more. She did not just give me the eye. "Nick?" I turn back to her. "Yeah?" "I want to hire you. These concerts are going to take a lot of choreographing, so is my album. You did good tonight." "I always try to create the best show I can." "I know. And you did it all by yourself." Not entirely true, actually. I had helpers assisting me with the setup before and the takedown after. A supervisor was watching my every move too. Someone always is. "I'm thinking we should work together again," Lindsay says. "I could use a good light and sound man." "Don't you have a couple of your own?" "No," she replies, grimacing. "When you don't put out an album in several years, and the one you did generate didn't get the best reviews, people start to desert you." "They start to think of you as a one hit wonder." "Yeah." She tosses back her drink and sets down the cup. "But you know what? I'm still here, making music. I have a lot of talent, and I'm not forsaking it." "Good." My heart echoes her fervor. "And I'm thinking this album will be just as great as my first one. I tried out one of the songs tonight, and they liked it." "I did too." "It's not the only song that's close to being ready. I have the words written out for most of the others. I just need to find the proper pitch." She takes another sip, then looks at me. "I was hoping you could help me with that. You've compiled albums for a few people." "Not many. Most of my work has been at concerts." I sip my drink. "And I'm afraid I'm booked up for quite a while. I'd love to work with you again, but..." "Surely there must be some way for you to find time." She smiles as she says this, and I feel myself searching for one. No, I shake my head, not a good idea. My business is too important to reschedule. "I really can't see a way," I tell her with a sigh. "Albums take a lot of work. I don't have time for one right now. As for the concerts, well, I'm not on staff at the places they're at." "Don't worry about it," Lindsay grins. "I tell them I want you, and you're in. They always listen to the star." "True," I chuckle. She has that right. I mentally go over my schedule again. "I think I might could fit the concerts in. The album, though... I'm sorry, I can't do it." Seeing her crestfallen look, I add a tease. "Not even if you slept with me." "You want to sleep with me?" She looks me up and down, then smiles again. I feel my voice catch all of a sudden, and try to recover. "I was joking, Lindsay." "I wasn't." I stare at her, images flashing in my mind. Do I want this? Can it happen? And should it? No. I have to stop this now. "That really won't be necessary," I say, again with the joking tone in my voice. "And what if it were offered?" she replies. "I'm not innocent, you know." "I know. I just..." I stop, not knowing what to say. We're friends, we have a business relationship, I'm not sure it should go farther. All this comes into my mind, but I can't get it out. "It'd probably just be a one night stand," Lindsay says. "If that would make you feel better." A one night stand, I think. I find myself relaxing a little. I've had quite a few one night stands in my time. I've forgotten a lot of them. This one, I think, would definitely be one to remember if I had it. Now that it seems easier, I consider the idea. "We'd stay friends, right? No matter what happens?" She nods. "Hopefully. And if not, I can always dedicate a song to you. I did that on my first album with a few guys I've known." That explains a lot, I think, recalling some of the lyrics. "And of course you'd get paid the usual amount too. It would just be additional compensation." Is that all I am to you? I almost ask her. Then I look at her eyes and see that it's not true. Damn, I think to myself. Does she really know what she's asking here? "Are you sure about this?" I ask her. By now I think I like the idea, but... Again she looks me over intently, then smirks. "Yes. I like you. I know you won't hurt me if things go wrong." I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. "Well..." *** We talked at the bar for another hour or so. By the time we were done, I was ready to rearrange my schedule. Part of me still thought I was taking a bad risk, but the majority was ruling otherwise. Lindsay had made things easier when she agreed to give me a one night stand, album or no album. She liked me enough, she said. I found I felt the same way and wasn't surprised. So much easier to let go your guards when you find out you have an attraction in common with a friend. For a while I took the tack that I wasn't the right person for the album she had in mind. She quashed that idea quickly. "You're the nicest guy I've met in this town. And you're a professional." I was happy for her praise, but with the contract between us... No, I told myself. This has nothing to do with business. It's a friendship taken to the next level. I can't let myself think of it as anything else. I am thinking of Lindsay in different ways now, though. Before, our relationship was casual. Artist and assistant, just friends and colleagues. But since then we've come farther. The speed of it has both shocked and delighted me. Just like every detail of her person. I stare at her body now and think of it pressed against, then lying next to, mine. That pale skin and how it will contrast with my own. Those warm little breasts and hips, and how they'll feel in my palms. That soft hair and how I'll entwine it around my fingers as I rub her neck. Her voice, singing to me alone instead of an audience. Stop, I tell myself. She wouldn't want you thinking of her that way. Few women really do. It wasn't her looks that attracted you in the first place anyway, it was her talent. And of course, I add to the doubts in my mind, I've been thinking about that too. Lindsay's really good on stage, no matter what people say. She's got most of the experience and imagination she needs, and she's gathering more as time goes on. She knows she can sing, and so she does. She doesn't let the crowd of other stars distract her, or the harsh cries of the critics. She just keeps doing what she feels she must. That's what I like most about her, that drive. Her beautiful voice and body are just nice additions to it. "You like that song?" she asks. It's another hour after we've left the club and driven back to her studio apartment. We've been sitting together on her couch, going over her plans and mine. We've eyed each other several times during the exchange, smiled, but nothing else. The lust between us is in the open now, but we haven't indulged it yet. Why? I have to say I'm not sure. Maybe it's just that we're both tired from a hard night's work. Maybe she doesn't think she's ready yet. I'm not about to pressure her. I wasn't sure the relationship between us should come this far, I wasn't expecting it. But I know I was hoping for it, and now that it has... She reaches out and touches me on the wrist. "Nick?" I blink. "Sorry. It's just these words." I wave the page I'm holding. On it are lyrics that express much of the emotions that just went through my mind. "Did you write this?" "Yeah," she says, "and I intend to sing it." Her hand remains on my arm as she says this, and I decide I like the soft warm feeling it leaves there. I've thought that many times when Lindsay's touched me before, but now it's coming to the forefront of my mind and not staying in the background. "It's a little similar to what some other artists of your generation have done," I point out. "I think Britney Spears and Ashlee Simpson have both had songs like this." "Yeah," Lindsay shrugs. "A lot of music's about the same stuff. I'm putting my own spin on these themes though. I'm going with my style, not theirs." "Good. You don't want their bushel to hide your light." She laughs. "That's beautiful. I'm using it. So you really think these songs are good?" "They're definitely worth publishing." I could add more, but it's better to keep it brief. Most of what I could say she probably already knows anyway. "Thanks," she says, rubbing my forearm. "Do you think you could do something with them?" I am distracted for a second by her fingers. Then I respond. "Sure. It might take some experimenting, but I can do it. You're giving me a good rate." "Yeah," Lindsay says. "That and the other thing." She smiles and leans in closer to me, the black waves of her hair nicely framing her face. "You want to do that tonight?" I ponder it, feeling her breath on my cheek. Not necessary this soon, I think to myself. Not necessary, period. It's also late. I don't have that big a day tomorrow, but I do want to get some sleep. She probably needs it too. Even so... "Nick?" I turn and see her eyes on me. They look interested, as does the rest of her face. All my other concerns flee in seconds. Yes, Lindsay, I decide. I do want you tonight. I don't answer Lindsay with words, though. Instead, I move closer into her, take her hand and then touch her lips with mine. I prefer language without conversation at these moments. So does she, I imagine. Whatever her feelings, she's kissing me back heatedly, her arms locking around me and pulling me close. Her lips are eager and insistent. I rub her sides as our bodies touch and feel my hunger start to rise. Her touches show her own hunger, and I am pleased to sense it. No longer am I doubting the joy of this event. Instead I am living it. I am listening to the music, the rhythm of her breath into mine, our bodies flowing together as frenzied thoughts flash into our heads. Lindsay breaks the kiss and smiles, then reaches down and grabs my shirttail. I accomodate her, settling back into the couch and letting myself relax. She pulls my shirt over my head, and my vision is blocked briefly. Then the barrier is gone, and I see her smiling again as she regards my chest. "You work out." "Yeah," I say, caressing her face. She beams and kisses me again, her lips insistent. I feel a wall form in my mind, then collapse. I move my hands down as she pushes into me, gripping her shoulders and squeezing them. I take hold of her sweater and slide it off. I feel its soft warm cashmere as I do this, and her softer warmer skin beneath. Only a thin layer of light blue cotton now seperates it from mine. I run my palms over this layer, touching it and feeling the surfaces underneath it. Her skin is flushed, her heart beating quickly. I can feel her nipples hard like spears even through her shirt and bra. I take hold of them and press down, then press again higher. I hope to invoke the proper reaction. "Yes," she gasps, kissing me once more. I feel her anticipation against me, her legs pressing into my lower body. Lindsay's jeans are thick, but they cannot hide the warmth I sense in her. Neither can mine, I'm sure. I already feel hard and excited. Judging by the way she's grinding herself into me, she likes that I do. She feels the same, I think, and I want... I want... My thoughts disappear as our lips touch. Her tongue licks across my teeth, accompanied by a deep moan broadcast directly into my lungs. I touch her breasts, and she shakes. I massage the undersides of her arms, and she quivers. As I do this, she keeps pressing herself against me, running her hands up and down my flanks while we kiss. Then her movements start to change, head inward and around me. Her fingers flutter against my groin, and next thing I know my belt is being unfastened. My pants are unbuttoning, then the zipper is being moved down. Lindsay's expression is mirthful as she does this, surprised and happy. I wonder if she'll like what we're doing as much later as she seems to now. Then that emotion vanishes as my jeans and boxers are both simultaneously shoved to the floor. "Nice," Lindsay says, looking down at my organ. She moves up and pushes her pussy against it, turning her eyes back to my face and touching my lips with hers in a matching motion. I return her kiss as she moves on me, licking at her tongue with my own. Our breaths mate as well, and I sense wonder in the rhythm she sends into me. I can feel her body against mine, emotion tingling through our flesh. Her fingers play a tempo on my ribs, and it stirs something within me. I shake at the sensation, stroke her hair, then push her back. "I need to see you." She grins, and I take handfuls of her shirt. I pull it off her, then throw it away to land somewhere near mine on the floor. Her black bra is revealed beneath, the orbs inside gleaming with sweat and flush. Lindsay reaches behind her torso and unsnaps the catch, then shrugs the garment off, tosses it across the room. I don't know or care where it lands. I'm just staring at her hard dark pink nipples, smiling as I lean in and kiss each one. She sighs and rubs at my upper back as I do so, and I feel myself getting bolder. Open come my lips, out comes my tongue. I suck on her nipples, lick around and on them. As I do so, I massage her breasts and her sides. My fingers and tongue writhe against her, and she grows more intense in her gasps and movements under their attention. Her hands move faster across my torso, fingers pressing deep into me as her voice lets out a chorus of joy. "I thought this would be good," she whispers as I touch her. "I've longed for it. I had faith in it." I nod, keeping up my movements as I start to kick off my shoes and pants. Lindsay helps me by moving aside slightly and smiling, breathing into me. Once I'm naked, I turn my focus back to her. I want to see the rest of her body, touch it. I continue to lick at her breasts as I reach down and undo her fly, then push down her jeans. Her panties are black like her bra, obviously a matching set. Her legs are as pale as the rest of her, flushed and slightly freckled. I massage her thighs, enjoying the feel of them. They shake slightly, moving back and forth under my palms. "Yes," she says again. She does not follow the word with a kiss this time, she just smiles at me. She keeps watching as I rub her, touches points on my lower torso and thighs. She briefly grabs my cock again, and I feel it leap forward. She chuckles, strokes the head. Soon, I think. Then I feel her body quiver as I stroke higher, closer to her center. Her hands leave my groin and move up, resume touching my arms. She licks her lips, laughing. I can feel her nerves unfolding, something stirring within them. The emotion between us, in the air around us, tells me she may be close. Not wanting to wait any longer, I grab the edges of her panties and ease them down as Lindsay squeezes my shoulder again. I look up at her briefly, see her mouth open and face happy. She blinks at me, then her lips remain apart but slide into a grin. Her thighs come apart too as I look back at them. I feel myself smiling at the mass of dark hair between. I put my fingers into that mass and touch it. The sensation is wonderful, especially as Lindsay shakes around me. I can feel her closing tight, then opening again, growing warmer and wetter with every move she makes and every breath she lets out. I echo those breaths with mine, match her movements, press hard on the sides of her cunt. I reach up and locate her most sensitive point, then fondle it. She sighs heavily, then looks directly into my eyes. "Not yet, Nick," she says. I shrug and pull out. Okay, Lindsay, whatever you want. I look at her again, making sure she hasn't changed her mind. She nods, and I smile. Then I move my hands up and grip her shoulders, pushing her down into the couch. Her jeans slide off as I roll on top of her, her body moving back and forth against me. She is not resisting, just holding off, prolonging a bit. I can understand that. You don't need to worry, I want to tell her. This will be something I will always remember, no matter how fast or slow it goes. No matter the pace, it will be a wonderful thing. Lindsay grips my cock, pulls on it as I kiss her. Our bodies touch, moving as close as possible. Our legs rub together and wrap around each other. Our hands continue to caress each other, finding nerves and drawing forth moans. Soon our routines are moving together as effectively as they did at the concert earlier tonight. Her voice and body are shaking before me, and I am swept up in their feelings. I can't predict them now. I can only try to match them as best I can with what I think will go right, what I hope is the proper combination of signs and grips. Her movements tell me it's working, and I feel myself rewarded. As she continues to massage my chest, I look to her for assurance. She nods, and I move back down. I kiss her neck, then her throat, then the sides of her orbs. I tangle my fingers among her curls as I do this, acting out my thoughts from before. Her hair is softer than I imagined, her skin warm under my touch. Her nipples press into my lips and she sighs as I fondle them. This is good, I think to myself. It's everything I wanted, and more. You're all I need, Lindsay, I tell her with my eyes, thinking of her music. You're all I need tonight. She thrusts her palms hard into my chest, returning my feelings. I smile, then push them aside as I move on. "Don't stop," she breathes out as I lick across her stomach. Her squeezes of my biceps lets me know what she wants next. I grin up at her, then push her thighs apart and put my lips to her snatch. She gasps as I kiss it, then open my mouth and start lapping. Her hair is rough against my tongue, her juices flowing into me. She is tight around me, then loosening. Her clit presses into my tongue just as her music pressed into my mind earlier tonight. I can feel her fingers pressing into my shoulder muscles, while her voice continues to urge me on. "Yes, Nick. Yes, that's it. Suck me!" I gladly comply, moving harder and faster against her. Soon she is shaking around me again, coming close to but not actually erupting. She grips my forearm, then my shoulder, and I look up at her. Her jaw is clenched, her eyes blazing a welcome. She's ready, I think. Good. She clasps my manhood again as I withdraw my mouth and start to line up our bodies. I look back at her face and frown as she holds up a hand. What? I wonder. "Condom," she speaks. Oh, I grimace, right. Good that she remembers in this day and age. I do too, I just let myself forget in the heat of what we were doing. I reach down now and grab my pants, fumble at one of the pockets. We stopped off at a gas station on the way here and I purchased some. I still was disbelieving this was going to happen at the time, but it pays to be prepared. Lindsay nods when she sees me pull out the package of Trojans. She rubs my cock as I open it, her fingers keeping me hard even as I'm distracted. Soon I have one out, and the wrapper is dropped back to the floor. "Let me," she says, and I hand it to her after removing the foil. She places it at the head of my cock, then starts rolling the edges down. Her fingers continue to caress my balls, and I too concentrate on maintaining my feeling. I touch her body while she puts the condom on, reminding myself this time is glorious and I'm with a beautiful amazing woman. She has experience too, I'm coming to see. Yes, she's not that exposed, but Lindsay Pagano is nevertheless a master at her craft. And I am with her. I am her partner, her lover. Yes. The sheath is pulled around me, then Lindsay moves up and presses her groin against mine. "Now?" I ask, and she nods. I grin and shove myself down, forward, and into her. Her fingers sweep up and grip my arms, helping me move. I put my hands on her hips, feel them warm and welcoming. I flick their folds back and forth, opening her wider as I press my organ into her groin. Soon her tightness locks, encircling me. She grins, then once more begins to move. I grin back, thrust forward, and move with her. "Ah!" Lindsay gasps out. I kiss her sigh. I move up and down in her, pushing hard. I try to go as deep as I can every time, yet match her own motions. Her body tingles, her breath comes faster. Again I am enthralled by this act, living it. I wanted her, I say to myself, and now I have her. She was my friend, and now we are closer. We are more. I'm still shocked it happened, but I'm glad. I was hoping so badly for this moment, for it to be this good. She smiles, then voices a soft insistent moan. A second passes. Then she starts to vibrate wilder than before, her juices flowing around me. I can feel her body quaking, and know what is happening. Once again I am hard-pressed to keep up with her movements. I try to match the beat of my thrusts to her shakes, alternate my kisses with her cries. They say roadies aren't really part of the act, but ask any of us and we'll tell you otherwise. We have to be as into it as any musician, as dedicated and imaginative as the artists we aid. I knew it at the concert, and again I see it now. "Come on," Lindsay prompts, subsiding a bit. I move into her again as she slows down, gasping in time with her. We wasted our time so long, I think. I wanted this, she wanted this, we both skirted the subject until this moment. Now here we are, together. Things have changed. It is good, like her music. Our relationship has grown, as has she, and... My thoughts flee as I feel her body clench hard around me once again. I look down. Her eyes are shining at me, proclaiming her hopes and needs. Stop thinking, I tell myself. Just settle into this. Enjoy it. This moment is great, an unnecessary but nonetheless welcome part of the music you and Lindsay are making. And what we will make, I remind myself. This isn't over yet. We haven't even started recording her new album. We've only had one concert together, but I know I am going to do my best to make it not be the last. At that declaration, I feel myself spurt. Everything I was holding back bursts forth, juices and emotion. Only the latex around my organ stops the former from impacting into Lindsay. She seems to sense and feel the latter, and echoes it with her grin. We both gasp, then calm, smiling at each other. I hope you share my thoughts, I tell her silently. I want to help you, Lindsay. I want to make your talent the success it deserves to be. I also want you to screw me again, I can't deny that, but like you said, it's just a side benefit. Nothing more than compensation for a great friendship. And nothing less. "Nick," she says, and I look back at her. The mere sight of her face sets my heart beating heavily as I recall all that we've gone through and my dreams of what lies ahead. "Yes, Lindsay?" "Can we keep doing this? While I'm in town working? It's helping me, I think." "Sure, Linz," I reply. "Whatever you need." Yes, I think, my fears vanishing for the moment. This will go right. It will be a perfect combination, an amazing high, and every other good thing you've ever sung or will sing about. It may be temporary, but I will remember it. I will treasure it always. I know Lindsay has similar feelings as she beams and moves forward to kiss my lips. *** The End Afterword: Liked it? Let me know if you did or did not. I did a few things differently with this one. All feedback appreciated! (Email DougElder21@yahoo.com)