Shelby

"You're kidding me. Like, really? They couldn't put that on any other night but Thursday?"

"I'm not kidding. And we're booked every single night this week, with rehearsals and press. The new single is out Tuesday, the new album is coming along pretty quickly. Tour'll be here before we know it."

Shelby paced her kitchen from one end to the other, cursing under her breath, tempted to throw the phone across the room. Rod and the Band and, apparently, JC had some kind of engagement coming up that week. Some thing where they had to show off the new single being premiered the following week, and rub elbows and shake hands and pretend they really care what people think.  On Thursday. Their date night.

Shelby had worked so hard to plan around Thursday nights with her classes, her shifts at Antigua, and everything else she had going on with her new life in Orlando. Every other night of the week was packed full of the things she didn't want to do on Thursdays. And now her Thursday night was dry as a bone.

"So, what time do these things usually end?"

"They can go all night if you want them to, but here's part two of the bad news. We have a photo shoot and a morning show radio interview the next morning.  I wouldn't have been able to stay, anyway."

"I could have come over." She sighed heavily, putting on her saddest voice. "I know I sound spoiled. Because I am!"

"I know," he said, laughing at her tantrum. "I'm the one that spoiled you."

"It's not funny. You're a habit. I'll feel all... out of place."

"Honey, I'm feeling your pain. It's not like I'm all ‘yay I get to go another week without sex.' I'm pissed about it, but there's nothing I can do. I'm sorry."

"I know." She pouted, leaning forward onto the counter, wearing one of his t-shirts. The day was already warm and it was only 10 am. "I better get in the shower, I guess. I have to go serve alcohol to people in the middle of the damn day."

"Oh, you're working today. Well uh... You enjoy that shower, then."

Shelby chuckled that low, sexy laugh he liked. 10am or 10pm, it got him every time. "I'll think about you, when I'm in there."

"Yeah?"

"Mmmhmm...."

"What... uhm... what are you gonna be thinking about?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?  It hasn't happened yet, but it's a guarantee that certain parts of your anatomy will be running through my mind. It'll be hot, and it'll be awesome, and I'll tell you about it Thursd-oooohhhh. I won't see you Thursday!  Damn!"

JC swore under his breath, almost growling. It sounded even more menacing over the phone line. "You're a fucking tease. That's what you are. You know that, right?"

She laughed, an evil cackle coming from deep in her throat. "Yeah. I know. I actually work hard at it. Have fun this week I guess. I'll see you soon, I'm sure."

"Maybe I can carve some time out this week, or sneak away early from something. I can't go a week without you. I'll explode."

"And not in the good way. I gotta go, love. Shower time!" 

She ended the call and turned the phone off, bouncing to the shower, laughing all the way. She was still pissed, but her plan was set in motion. If she knew him at all - and she had a pretty good grasp on him by that point-- he would find a way to work it out.

JC

"Shelby! Shel-fuck!" She hung up. Fucking tease.

JC tossed the phone to the edge of the bed and laid there, enjoying the last few minutes of peace before he had to get up and get moving. Early rehearsal to make up for the time they were losing Thursday. Fuck, he hated Rod's manager. And his manager, for confirming that he would be at Thursday's event. It was nothing more than some glad-handing and grandstanding, smiling and shaking hands and uttering phrases like ‘we're really excited about this new record'. Blah blah blah.

The promo machine was already huffing, just waiting to rev its engine. It looked like from then until the album release, promotion would be his middle name. And because this album was being touted as such a big event, masterminded and orchestrated by him, all eyes, ears, microphones and cameras would be on him.

‘Great. Just when I don't need attention.'

JC tilted his head up to look at the time on the new clock radio that sat on the side table. He had finally replaced the one that he'd smashed against the wall within days of arriving in Orlando. 10:30. He didn't even really have to be up and out of bed until 11 o'clock, 11:30 if he wasn't showering. Which was gross, but if you were lazy and didn't want to get out of bed until the very last second...

"I can't believe I'm missing out on Shelby on Thursday. Gonna be in pain by the end of the week."

As if in agreement, his dick stirred and twitched in his briefs. Checking the time again, JC slid a hand down under the band, closing his eyes, picturing her in the shower. Visualizing her body, slick and wet and soft, wishing he was there with her, soaping up that bath puff thing she used with that shower gel, the kind he liked that smelled good but didn't taste bad.

A moan rose from his throat, forced its way out of his mouth as he pushed the briefs down his hips and kicked out of them, tossing the sheet back as well, his dick standing tall and proud for him. His chest tightened with the breaths he wasn't taking, but he couldn't spare a single drop of energy, concentrating all of his effort through his arm, through his hand, around his dick, rubbing so fast and so hard he thought he might start a fire, soon. Just as he felt like he might pass out, that tingling, euphoric feeling overtook him and he stroked through an intense climax, making a mess of the sheets, finally able to breathe but only after a hard, loud, guttural grunt.

Panting, heaving, lightheaded, he fell back against the mattress. Sweating. Who sweats from masturbating? Did other guys do that? He didn't even know who he could ask about something like that.

Not even close to really satisfied, JC rolled out of bed and stumbled toward the shower. He was going to have to work something out, about Thursday. No way was he going two weeks without her.

Shelby

Bored. Bored, bored, bored. Shelby lay on her back, on the couch in the den, her legs hanging over the arm, staring at the dust on the overhead fan, listening to the TV drone on and on. Something was on... she wasn't paying attention to it. It was boring. She was bored.

She had run out of things to do to distract her from the fact that it was Thursday and she wasn't with JC. This part of the day was normally spent trying to get things done so she could concentrate on him later-cleaning up, going shopping or to the salon if she needed to, getting a little ahead on her Business class, which was turning out to be quite interesting.

Her mind had been wandering lately and her hands had been idle. She had to do something with herself and with her money, something that might alleviate some of the guilt she felt about having it and spending it. Her shifts at Antigua were just to get her back in the business, back in Bartender mode. The classes, she hoped, would give her insight into opening her own bar, running her own show. The thought excited her, made her heart go pitter-patter. It was the first thing, besides JC, that she'd been excited about in a long time.

She had already read ahead in her course materials, though. Studied for the exam the next week-she knew the subject matter backward and forward and backward again. The house sparkled, even the garage was clean and organized and the lawn was clipped and the pool was clean. The last of her boxes had long since been unpacked, her media organized by genre and then alphabetized by title. There was not a speck of dust or dirt anywhere.

Shelby rolled her head toward the TV, trying to remember what was on, what she was watching. It must have gone off, because she'd never in her life seen That 70's Show.  She let it distract her for a few minutes, laughing at the fashion and the humorous one-liners until it went off and something else came on. She reached for the remote and snapped it off and the house was silent.

Bored.  ‘I could go out,' she thought. ‘Just go hang out somewhere. Have some drinks. Relax. Remember this feeling of being by myself, having my own life, doing my own thing.' It was not a bad idea. Not the thing she wanted to be doing, but not a bad idea.

Shelby hopped into the shower for a few minutes, psyching herself up for going out alone. Her body was conditioned, accustomed to a certain schedule. She felt a little off, like there were things she was supposed to be doing, but she wasn't. Maybe a trip out of the house would take her mind off of those things. And pass some time. For sure, she probably wouldn't sleep that night.

She tossed on some clothes, not even really paying attention to what she was wearing-a t-shirt, some jeans, some slip on sandals. She needed a jacket, or something, in case she ended up by the water, which was always a little cooler than being in the city. Her fingers brushed across something soft. She grabbed at it, pulling it out, a familiar scent woven into its fibers. One of JC's zippered hoodies had somehow been mixed up with her laundry. She smiled at it and sniffed it, catching his scent. She pulled it on and zipped it up, rolling up the sleeves a little. It was way too big on her, but she felt warm and comforted by it.

She got into the car, pulled out of the garage and onto the road, headed toward Orlando, listening to the pop station on the radio. One of Rod's older songs was playing. She turned it up, singing along, smiling. She drove and drove, windows down, a breeze blowing through the car, music on. Past nightclubs and bars and watering holes. When she saw someplace and felt she just had to stop, she would. So far, it hadn't happened.

Nothing sounded good. Normally JC would have a place in mind, and she would meet him there, or at his house and they'd go together. He'd give her some history on the place, or talk about a memory he had of the first time he went there, or when one of his friends got drunk and did something stupid there, and that's why he liked or remembered it. They'd walk in, hand in hand, bold as anything despite his face being a familiar one, especially around Orlando. Sometimes people recognized him. Most of the time, people just walked right on by, or just gave a smile and a wave. He'd smile back, wave back, nod back, and go on with life. So unassuming and not ‘celebrity' like. He never acted like he was too good for a dive bar or for a six inch Subway sandwich. He ate a turkey and swiss the same way he ate a parmesan crusted sea bass. Shelby had no idea what living in LA was like, but it was weird to think that he would go back to being basically stalked all the time. It seemed like things in Orlando moved at a much slower pace and people were way more laid back.

After dinner, they would hit up Dessert Lady, or some other place where they served decadent and delicious food. Sometimes they would eat in, and have coffee or wine and sit and talk and stare into each other's eyes. Putting off the evening on purpose. Dragging it out. Teasing each other. That was the part she liked the most. Well, not the most. But a lot. He knew how to make her feel wanted without having to say it, just by the way he looked at her, the way he let his eyes dip to parts of her body and slowly climb back up to her eyes, her face, her smile. It was in the way he would grab her and pull her up against him, or stand behind her and press himself into her. Knowing what she was doing to him was the best turn on, ever. She'd never met a man like him, so confident in himself but not at all cocky. The expectation was always there but she never felt like she had to be with him, or that she should feel lucky he chose her.

That was the difference between JC and Rod Phillips, she imagined. Girls with Rod were probably made to feel like if they didn't fuck him, they'd be ruined for life. Or at least for another celebrity. Some of those girls made a living out of making the rounds. Like the chick Michael Jackson wrote about in Dirty Diana. ‘She likes the boys in the band, she knows when they come to town/ every musicians fan after the curtain goes down.' Shelby shuddered at the thought of making the rounds. JC was more than enough for her.

Boredom was setting in, again. Shelby was still driving, and hadn't found anything she wanted to do, or anywhere she wanted to go. She pulled into a coffee shop off of International. Maybe a hot cup of coffee or cocoa, some relaxation, and a few minutes of quiet time would do her some good.

The tinny sound of a bell tinkled overhead as the door swung open and she stepped inside. The shop was about half full, mostly with younger people taking up the tables on one side of the place, texts open, paper coffee cups scattered about, heads in hands and eyes on notebooks. The college crowd.

It was, but wasn't her peer group. She'd never been the ‘sit in the coffee shop and cram' type of student. Even now, she was ahead in both of her classes. She laughed, then, thinking back to the first time she was in college. Students like her-older students-were annoying, with their reading ahead and working ahead and setting the grading curve too high. Now, as an older student, she got it. Getting ahead meant survival. Getting behind, while juggling other responsibilities that most 19 year olds didn't have to think about, could mean having to drop out. It was a necessary evil.

"Can I help you? You know what you want?" A short perky girl with a green apron and a name tag that read ‘April' was standing behind the counter, smiling too wide, like she'd had one too many frappucinos or something and she was all hopped up on caffeine. Shelby smiled back, ordered a latte with whipped cream and a slice of cake, and slid a $10 bill across the counter.

Shelby settled into a worn, comfortable chair in corner of the shop, right under a lamp and against the wall. She set her coffee and cake on the table next to her and pulled out an old book she had left in the car. She had been reading it on the way from Miami, while her mom drove. It was a romance, the bodice-ripper kind. Every girl needed a fantasy, and if she couldn't have a steamy, dramatic love affair, she could always read about one. Besides, the dialogue and the premise were always amusing.

Ten pages into the story of a young woman with a snappy attitude and a chip on her shoulder, her phone buzzed in the pocket of the jacket. She dug it out and smiled at the screen.  

muzicman: Hey sexy. What you doing?

Shelby flipped open the phone, slid out the keyboard and typed a response.

shelbyj: was bored stiff at home.

shelbyj: drove around a little, now at a coffee shop.

shelbyj: about to have a latte and some cake. You?

A minute later, the phone buzzed again.

muzicman: Chocolate? Not fair. Sitting next to Rod. He's talking about the album making process.

muzicman: He makes it sound so boring. All he does is show up and sing. Wishing I was with you.

shelbyj: Believe me, I wish that, too. So you have to sit there all night next to him, listening to him talk?

shelbyj: Why do you even have to be there?

A few minutes passed and Shelby went back to her book. The heroine, Janine, had just lost her father to a tragic accident, of course. There's always a tragic accident. Book writers always thought tragic accidents were great points to write around. They added emotion and drama, something to write about and really show angst. Shelby thought they should try living through a tragic accident, sometime. Really get a feel for it. This shit was nothing to play with. The phone buzzed again, in her lap.

muzicman: not all night.  Just was there because he introduced me to one of his buddies, said something about us all working together.

muzicman: Then talked about himself for ten minutes, so I excused myself. Working the room, now.

Shelby smiled at the thought of JC hobnobbing and pretending to care.

shelbyj: HA! Work it, baby.  

muzicman: Careful. Don't get me worked up. These pants are too small for that.

Shelby laughed aloud, and then remembered she was in public. She glanced around but no one seemed to notice her.

shelbyj: I wasn't even thinking that. I was just picking on you.

shelbyj: You made me laugh, though.

muzicman: You have a great laugh.

muzicman: Gets me going, every time. I miss it.

muzicman: I miss you.

muzicman: What are you wearing? So I can get a picture of you in my mind.

She couldn't even remember. She had to look to check.

shelbyj:  uh...Jeans, T-shirt, sandals. Your gray zippered hoodie thing.

shelbyj: I must have stuck it in my drawer.

muzicman: That's where that thing is. Bet you look good in it.

shelbyj: I bet I do.  It's too big. But warm and comfortable. Smells like you.

muzicman: Hope I smell good.

shelbyj: You smell delicious. Makes me really miss you. I'm so used to being with you on Thursdays.

muzicman: You too. Thinking about you right now.

muzicman: You thinking about me?

shelbyj:  I never stop thinking about you.

muzicman: Is that right? What are you thinking about right now?

Shelby grinned at the screen and looked around again. She was up against a wall, so no one was behind her. People around her were oblivious. She was just another one of those people addicted to the cell phone, laughing at something funny. Shelby slouched down in the chair anyway, the phone flipped open and under the book, which laid open, face down on her lap.

shelbyj: You sure you want to get into this right now? I'm thinking some pretty hot stuff about you.

muzicman: I definitely want to get into this right now. I want to get into you right now.

muzicman:  This thing is so boring and I'm pissed I can't leave and come to you. Hiding in a corner.

shelbyj: Actually... I'm seeing your smile. I like how your whole face smiles when you're really smiling. Or laughing. You're cute when you're really smiling.

muzicman: You're a sweetie. You have a pretty smile too.

muzicman: I like that dimple in your left cheek. I think I'm gonna name it.

shelbyj: Really. Name it what?

muzicman: Haven't thought of it. Something sexy. Let ya know when I come up with it.

muzicman: So that's all you're thinking about on a night when we're usually together? My smile?

shelbyj: Haha. No. Trying to stay tame so you don't rip your pants.

muzicman: Rip a hole in them honey.

Shelby was nervous and embarrassed and interested and intrigued all at once. She laughed a loud burst of giggles, much louder than she intended, then slapped a hand over her mouth and apologized with her eyes at the two people that glanced her way. "Sorry," she said, and went back to her phone.

shelbyj: You just got me in trouble. Stop making me laugh!

muzicman: Sorry. How about I make you wet instead?

Shelby's eyes bugged out and she was sure she blushed a crimson red. She gulped and glanced around, again. Just making sure no one could see the phone. This was... new. To her, at least but they hadn't done much texting, lately. Shelby was always afraid someone would find the transcript, because JC never deleted them.

shelbyj: How would you do that?

muzicman: I'd tell you things. Things I'm thinking.

muzicman: Sexy things I'm thinking about sexy you.

shelbyj: Okay. You tell me something, I'll tell you something.

muzicman: Okay.

muzicman: Right now, I'm in a room full of the fakest tits ever. Lots of girls hanging around, hoping to go home with someone important. I'm missing yours and how soft they are and how good they feel in my hands.

muzicman: And in my mouth. I would love to see them, right now.

An eyebrow rose. Shelby typed back, smirking.

shelbyj: Pardon? How do you know their tits are fake?

muzicman: They look fake. I'm an expert on this, honey. And they feel fake.

shelbyj: Wait! Whose tits are you feeling?

muzicman: We're getting sidetracked...

shelbyj: Answer me.

muzicman: Any idea what it's like to be standing somewhere and have a chick press her hard as shit "perky when everything else sags" melons into your back?

muzicman: And you turn around and it looks like she's smuggling two cantaloupes under a shirt she should not be wearing, what with sunspots and all.

muzicman: Ew.

shelbyj:  Yeah, it's like  waiting tables and having a guy pass you and press his limp gherkin dick  into your ass like he's Ron Jeremy or something.

muzicman: Right. So you get me.

muzicman:  Anyway.

muzicman:  Did I mention I wanted to see yours?

shelbyj: Yeah you mentioned that.

muzicman: So?

She smiled, trying not to laugh aloud.

shelbyj: So, what? Come see ‘em.

muzicman: Can't. Send me a picture.

shelbyj: Of my boobs?I can't,  I'm in public.

muzicman: Go to the bathroom.  Send it to the private address.

shelbyj: Are you serious?

muzicman: I'm kidding, honey.

muzicman: Unless you're gonna do it.

Shelby started to type a response, and then deleted it. Then bit her lip and looked around her. No one was paying attention to her at all; she wasn't sure what there was to be so paranoid about. She gave his request some serious consideration. It could be fun. He might not actually expect her to do it.

Before she lost her nerve, she grabbed her purse, leaving her book next to a half eaten piece of cake and her latte. She unzipped the jacket and left it in the seat, to mark her place. She wouldn't be gone, long. Hopefully it wouldn't disappear.

Shelby slipped into the ladies restroom and locked the door, hands shaking, feeling a little giggly. And a little excited. Her nipples were standing on end in anticipation. Her boredom was way past gone. In her hand, the phone buzzed over and over.

muzicman: You there?

muzicman: Shelby.

muzicman: You mad? I said I was kidding.

shelbyj: I'm in the bathroom.

shelbyj: Feeling naughty. Adventurous.

muzicman:  Oh? Do tell...

She  imagined him grinning, biting his lip, trying to hide his expression from the room. That and the uncomfortably noticeable bulge in his pants. Suddenly, she wasn't so bored.

muzicman: You sending me something?

shelbyj: Maybe. What do you want to see? I'm wearing a t-shirt. It's not very sexy.

muzicman: Everything you own is sexy. You got the Midas touch, but for sexy. Everything you touch is sexy.

Shelbyj: this is true. I touch you a lot and you're pretty damn sexy.

muzicman:  See? Help a brother out. Send me something good to look at.

JC had a way with words, even when those words were crude and base and overtly sexual-- at least where her body was concerned. Her heart beat faster as she reached up under her t-shirt and unhooked the bra-plain and simple because she wasn't going to be seeing him, and could be comfortable-and pulled it out of the sleeve of her shirt. She folded the cotton material and shoved it into her pocket, then adjusted her shirt, positioning herself in the mirror, filling the viewfinder with an image of round breasts outlined in the material, swollen nipples poking through thin cotton of her shirt.

Holding her breath, she snapped a few pictures, picking the best one, deleting the others and sending the one she chose to a super secret email address. No one else had that email address. It was just for her. She had one just for him.

shelbyj: I just sent it. Hope it's what you wanted.

muzicman: Hang on. Email just came. Wait a sec, okay?

shelbyj: K.

Shelby paced in the bathroom, waiting. And waiting. And waiting! He must have been roped into some conversation with Rod, again. She wanted to get out of there, but her nipples were embarrassing and ridiculous. She wished, now, that she'd brought the hoodie in with her. Then she could hide her obvious arousal under the thick material. The phone buzzed and she snapped it open.

muzicman: Oh, shit. Those look ripe for the picking.  Driving me crazy.

muzicman: I wish I could leave. I'd come get those, right now.

muzicman: Would love my face to be right there.

Shelby smiled, leaning against the wall with the phone, the cold, hard tile doing nothing for her body temperature.

shelbyj: Want you to.

shelbyj: I would love that. I wish you were here to do that.

shelbyj: And suck on them and flick the tips of my nipples. That feels so good. Craving that, right now.

shelbyj: Shit, I'm lit up, now. You're mean.

muzicman: I'm not mean. Welcome to my world. At least you can leave.

shelbyj: True. Sorry.

muzicman: Are you wet?

She didn't even need to check. She could feel the warmth pooling between her thighs, soaking the crotch of her plain cotton panties and sticking to her skin.

shelbyj: Very. You hard?

muzicman: Mission accomplished. I'm trying not to stand up. I'll put someone's eye out.

shelbyj: Okay, where the fuck is this event? A whorehouse?

shelbyj: You're feeling chick's tits and someone is close enough to you that your dick is at her eye level?

shelbyj: Are you at a strip club?

muzicman: Made me laugh. I was kidding.

muzicman: What are you thinking about right now?

shelbyj: Not sure you want to know.

muzicman: I do. I promise, I do. Tell me.

Shelby punched at the keys, tongue between her lips, eyes half open, her mind on a sexy visual.

shelbyj: Would you believe I have never had sex in car? Always wanted to.

muzicman: I'll believe whatever you tell me to believe. Are you thinking about us in the car?

shelbyj: More than that. Thinking about driving to wherever you are.

shelbyj:  Making an excuse that I'm your long lost cousin or something and there's an emergency and you have to leave.

shelbyj:  And then driving us to some dark patch of road, where it's pitch black.

shelbyj: dragging you into the backseat

shelbyj: unzipping your pants and letting that beast roam free. I bet it would feel good after being caged for so long.

shelbyj: I'd take that in my mouth and suck it like a hoover.

muzicman: Damn....

shelbyj: and then I'd pull my jeans off and slide my thong down. Or better, to the side and climb on that dick and ride it until I come.  

She was almost panting and out of breath just typing it, let alone imagining it. Knowing it couldn't happen, at least not at the moment,  was driving her out of her mind.

shelbyj:  That's what I'm thinking about.

shelbyj: Are you there?

shelbyj: Fucker. Why are you doing this to me?

muzicman:  Cause it's fun and I'm bored.

muzicman: You make car sex sound hot. I would love that right now. Every second of that.

muzicman: You have an incredibly vivid imagination.

Shelby smiled, knowing he was thinking about it now, too. And probably trying hard to hide the bulge by now, wishing it could really happen.

shelbyj: That's just the beginning. I have an incredible sex life from which to draw such imagery. Okay to leave the bathroom? I've been in here awhile.

muzicman: I guess, if you're done in there? Lol.

muzicman: Keep talking though. Don't get shy on me.

shelbyj: Not a chance.

She walked and typed, unlocking the door and opening it, almost knocking someone over on the other side. "Oh, sorry about that," she said over her shoulder, rushing back to her seat, hoping her arms covered her nipples jutting out of her shirt.. It was still empty, grey hoodie crumpled there and still marking her place. She picked it up and put it on, feeling more comfortable now that her rock hard nipples were hidden beneath it.

shelbyj: Back to my seat. Shop is half full. They almost got a peek at what you do to me.

muzicman: I want a peek at what I do to you. Trying to think of puppies and rainbows so I can stand up.

shelbyj: You should send me a picture.

muzicman:  Of me?

shelbyj: Yep. I sent you one. Send me a picture of those pants almost ready to bust open.

muzicman: Nice try, honey.

shelbyj: Come on, I did it. Please?

Seconds passed. He was thinking about it. Otherwise he would have changed the subject.

muzicman: Gonna regret this. Let's see if I can make it to a bathroom.

Shelby almost squealed, her heartbeat speeding up in anticipation. She didn't actually think he'd do it. In fact, she bet herself a dollar that he would get to the bathroom and chicken out. He'd take the picture but she probably wouldn't see it until they were together again. He got paranoid about sending pictures. They always ended up somewhere they shouldn't be, eventually. The phone buzzed again.

muzicman: I can't believe I'm doing this.I know I shouldn't.

shelbyj: But you're going to, aren't you?

muzicman: You only sent me your boobs.

shelbyj : You don't have to send me your dick. Just the dick print. Lol.

muzicman: Bad influence. Really bad.

muzicman: Okay, I know you know this but I have to say it.

muzicman:  Don't send this anywhere. Don't even email it to yourself. Delete it soon as you're done... uhm. doing whatever it is you're gonna do. Looking at it, or whatever.

 Surprised that he was even going through with it, she agreed, and then waited for the notifier that she had received an email.

shelbyj:  Pic is here. One sec.

Shelby navigated to email, and then to the private email address she created for him. Two emails were there, the second sent minutes after the first. There was no subject and no text in the body of the first email, just a picture from a bathroom of the front of him. He was wearing dark slacks, so he had to turn sideways otherwise the bulge was camouflaged. That effect probably saved him a little embarrassment. From the side, though, it looked like he was smuggling a small child in his pants.

She knew it was supposed to be sexy, but she laughed, quietly, this time. She opened the second email and her eyes slammed shut at the image, and then opened again. She pulled the phone in, close to her chest, just in case people around her could see. Except there was no one around her, she was just being paranoid.

The screen was filled with an image from the inside of his briefs. He'd simply pulled the band away from his body and snapped a photo. He was almost fully erect, the length curled along his groin, against his body. She recognized the girth and the color, the angle of the tip. She could pick that dick out anywhere.

Shelby took a deep breath, wiping away a drip of drool from the side of her mouth. She deleted both emails, making sure they were gone.

muzicman: See what you do to me?

The message was waiting for her when she closed the email function and navigated back to texts.

Shelbyj: oh my God! You have lost your mind!

shelbyj: Not that I'm complaining.

muzicman: Do not believe I did that. Delete that shit forever.

shelbyj: I don't want to.  You're beautiful. I love that part of you. So hard but so smooth and so warm. Feels good in my hands. Feels good in my...

muzicman: See. Now who's being mean?

shelbyj: It's killing me that any other week, I'd have that in my mouth by now. I want it. God, I'm dying. 

muzicman: I'm right next to you. Hang on, someone knocking, have to leave the bathroom.

Shelby waited impatiently, tapping her foot, watching the patrons in the coffee shop study and talk and drink coffee and read the paper. None of them had any idea that she was having a dirty IM conversation on her phone. It was fun. When she wasn't throbbing and missing him.

About a minute later, the phone buzzed again.

muzicman: Okay. Back to the shindig. Hanging out in the shadows though.

muzicman: I don't understand why I had to be here. No one wants to talk to me.

muzicman: No one here gives a shit about who wrote the song just who sings it.

muzicman: Do not want to be here.

shelbyj: I'm sorry you have to be. Am I helping to distract you?

muzicman: Are you ever. Having fun thinking of all the delicious ways I could lick you up.   

muzicman: Am I helping keep the boredom away?

shelbyj:  You have no idea. Not bored anymore at all.

muzicman: Still wet?

Shelby squirmed in her seat, feeling the liquid heat between her thighs again.

shelbyj:   Horny as *fuck* right now. Thank you very much.

muzicman: Me too. Thinking about you. Wishing I was with you, right now. I just want to hug you. I want to hold you and feel you next to me.

Muzicman: I want hard nipples up against my chest.

muzicman: Wouldn't that feel nice?

shelbyj: Hmmmmmmmmmmph..........

She wanted him to stop, but didn't want him to stop. She was hot, almost sweating with the hoodie on but didn't dare take it off, now. Her nipples were so hard and her breasts were so swollen that she was sure she would look like a circus act, sitting in a corner of a coffee shop, glistening with sweat, pretending not to notice how turned on she looked.

muzicman: Hahaha. Is that a yes?

shelbyj: Mmmmmmmm.Fuck.

muzicman: You okay?

muzicman: Shelby?

Shelby crossed her legs and squeezed, almost moaning out loud as her hips, ever so slowly, she hoped imperceptibly, pressing the seam of her jeans up against her clit. It throbbed in response, wanting her to rock hard and fast and put her out of her misery. She wished she could. But she couldn't. Knowing that turned her on even more.

shelbyj: So, I've never done this before.

shelbyj: Getting extremely hot and very bothered over here.

muzicman: What does that mean?

shelbyj: Means I think I'm gonna come.

The response from JC came lightning fast.

muzicman: No way.

shelbyj: Mmhhmm.

muzicman: Shelby, you're serious? You're not playing?

shelbyj: I swear, I'm so close. Fucking throbbing.

muzicman: Tell me. What are you doing?

shelbyj: Slouched in this big ass chair in here. Kind of turned away from everyone.

shelbyj: In a corner. People in here but not around me. Can't be too obvious, but I feel so dirty. In a good way. : )

shelbyj: My nipples are so hard So sensitive. Driving me insane. All I want is a tongue to run across them. Just once.

muzicman: I would volunteer, but...

shelbyj: Crossed my legs and squeezing my clit so hard. Feels good. Pressure feels good.

shelbyj: Working my hips but have to move slow. Tiny circles.

shelbyj: mmmmmm....

Shelby had to lean over a little, against the armrest of the chair, blinking to keep her eyes open, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from moaning out loud. Inside, her mind was screaming for release.

muzicman: You there?

muzicman: Shelby?

muzicman: Did you?

shelbyj: Not yet.

shelbyj: But close...soooooooo close.

She slid further down in the seat, the seam of her jeans, once just a tease, now applying very steady pressure. Her pulse throbbed there, sending a rushing feeling to her ears. It didn't take much movement of her hips to accelerate the pressure, sending waves up her body.

muzicman: Please don't stop.

shelbyj: Couldn't stop now if I wanted to.

shelbyj:  Really close.

shelbyj: Lightheaded. Squeezing, working my hips around and around, up against the seam of my jeans.

shelbyj: Feels so fucking good, baby.

shelbyj: Gonna come so hard. I can barely breathe.

shelbyj: omg I hope I don't scream

The phone buzzed with a message from him.

muzicman: Have to go back to the bathroom!

Shelby smiled, slowing her movements.

shelbyj: Hurry. Catch up.

Communication lapsed for a few minutes. She sipped her latte, took a bite of her cake, pretended to read and look normal, like she wasn't teasing herself to what was going to be an incredible climax, waiting for this guy on the other end of the phone to hide in a bathroom stall and do the same. Perfectly normal. Totally hot.

muzicman:  Hiding in a different bathroom.

shelbyj: Sneaky fucker.  

shelbyj: By the way, I don't want to hear about how hot it was the last time you did this. This is my first time. Don't ruin it.

muzicman: Got it. Don't wanna ruin it.

shelbyj: What are you doing?

muzicman: What do you think? Haha. Silly girl.

muzicman: But I can't type to you and do this. Just keep going.

shelbyj: Ha, one of the benefits of being a woman. Hands are free but I'm going to town.

shelbyj:  Had to slow it down so you could catch up, but working my way up, again. My thighs are getting a workout.

shelbyj: Clit feels so good, though. I'm so wet, it's like a marble in oil.

shelbyj: Mmmm...I'm  rocking my hips up. Imagining us. In the backseat of a car. Yours, mine, doesn't matter.

shelbyj:  riding that amazing dick.

shelbyj: Can almost feel you inside me. Getting closer. Feeling so good.

The phone buzzed but all she got was ‘......   ......... ................'  Shelby giggled. He only had one free hand. Hopefully, that was code for ‘sounds good, keep going'.

shelbyj: So wet. It's warm.

shelbyj: Feeling a tingle.

shelbyj: Tingle stronger.

shelbyj: Shit. mmmmm

shelbyj: Wishing I was with you.

shelbyj: Under you.

shelbyj: On top of you. Riding you.

shelbyj: Your breath on my skin.

shelbyj: Your chest pressed up against me, heart beating crazy fast.

shelbyj: Your voice in my ear, asking me to come for you.

shelbyj:  Fuck, I'm close.

The phone buzzed. 'Close,' was the only word that popped up. Her hips sped up at the thought of JC, tucked into a bathroom stall pulling and twisting and rubbing with one hand, trying to type with the thumb of the other, all because of her words appearing on the screen in front of him. She felt powerful. And sexy. Electric. On fire.

shelbyj: Gonna come.....

Shelby's fingers flew across the keyboard, her hips moving so fast in small, tight circles. She hoped to hell no one noticed, but even if they did, she didn't dare stop.

shelbyj: Close. So close.

shelbyj:  omg. Oh my holy fuck, I'm gonna come right here.

Her breath caught in her throat as she pulsed, and felt an intense clench and then contracting, over and over and over. She gripped the arm of the chair so hard a fingernail snapped, slouched in the seat, hugging the phone to her chest, her hips still writhing and convulsing through the longest, most intense orgasm she had ever had.

shelbyj: omggggggggggggggggggggggggggggccoming!

shelbyj: omg so fucking hard

shelbyj: still. shit!

An email message popped up for her, to her secret account. She opened it without thinking, the image enclosed making her almost want to scream. She settled for a tiny, quiet whimper, deep in her throat. JC had a death grip around the head, bulbous and red. Pooled around his head and his hand was the evidence that he was every bit as naughty and dirty and kinky and daring and turned on as she was.

‘Thank you,' was the message in the body of the email. ‘Delete this, right now.'

She hated to, but she deleted it and went back to the text function.

shelbyj: That kind of just made me want you more. I am out of my mind.

shelbyj: Are you sure you can't leave? I just want a good, hard fucking right now.

shelbyj  RIGHT NOW.

muzicman: What side of town are you on?

shelbyj:  International and Orange.

muzicman:  Wanna see if I can make your fantasy come true. Hang on. Will be a few minutes.

shelbyj: K.

Since he was occupied, Shelby tried to compose herself. Sat up straight, finished her latte-cold by now but it was wet and she just needed something on her throat. Marked her spot in her book, popped the last bite of cake into her mouth and headed toward the door, legs wobbly as jello, feeling so very naughty. She'd sat in that chair, the one over there in the corner, and totally did something she'd never dream of doing before. JC was bringing a lot of firsts, to her life. Definitely a good addition to the new and improved Shelby. Something in her hoped there were a lot more new things she'd do with JC.

She slid behind the steering wheel, started the car and let the cool air circulate. Orlando could be so muggy sometimes. Hot, the air thick with moisture. She was sweating and so worked up, heart still beating madly in her chest, which didn't help.  

"I hate today," she said aloud, pounding the steering wheel. "I miss my man. I should be up against a wall, or on a table, or on a counter or on a floor, or for a change of scenery, in a bed. Instead I'm in a car! And even that's not fun!"

Shelby banged her head against the headrest, screaming out her frustration. Her phone buzzed, interrupting her, alerting her to a message.

muzicman: Was gonna have you come get me, but I'm sprung. Go to my house.

muzicman: Key under the cinder block on the right side, by the shed.

muzicman: I'll meet you there. Can't wait to see you.

‘K,' she typed back, casual and calm. That was nowhere near what she was feeling, as she peeled out of the driveway and got on the road, back to Winter Park, toward Lake Virginia, grinning the entire way.

JC

He'd had enough. This event was boring, at some fancy hotel, arranged by Rod's record label rep and his manager. Some deal they set up to get the word out, keep the hype running about the new single. JC hated schmoozing and hyping things up. Either it was good, or it wasn't-and the single was good. It stood on its own two feet just fine without promotion masquerading as a social event. He knew none of these people, though Rod and the rest of the band hadn't stopped talking to people since they walked in the door.

"I'm leaving," he said to Dave, Rod's manager. "I got some stuff I could be doing, before tomorrow's shoot. No one cares about the producer or the music man. This gig's a waste of my time."

"Fine, fine," Dave answered, his beady eyes bulging out of his head, waiving him off and returning to his conversation.

‘That was easy. I wish I would have known it was that easy an hour ago.  Could already be with Shelby right now.'

He felt a twitch and suppressed a groan at the thought of her. He'd already taken care of his problem, but it was growing back, and he had no intention of wasting it on another handjob in a hotel bathroom. He wanted to be home. Needed to be with her. Not that the night wasn't already a raging success. It was fun and kind of exciting, going back and forth with her. No one had any idea that he was sending and receiving sexy missives, getting him all worked up so bad he had to go hide in a bathroom at the other end of the hall and jack off. There was something exciting about sneaking around, having a clandestine interactive encounter. Shelby was something else.

But he'd had enough. He was doing nothing, accomplishing nothing, didn't need to be there and could have a hot and bothered young woman under him in about an hour, so as he stepped out into the muggy evening, he didn't feel bad at all for ducking out on the guys.

A line of taxis sat outside the hotel, the cabbies all gathered around one car, talking and smoking, waiting for fares. JC caught the eye of one and nodded at him. "Windermere," he said. Had to go pick up his car at Rod's first. They had all come together in van provided by Rod's manager.

The long ride to Rod's and then the long ride across Orlando to Winter Park gave JC a lot of time to think. Against his better judgment, he was falling for her. She didn't want him to, but it was happening. He wasn't sure how to tell her, or if he should tell her, or if he should just keep it to himself. Maybe telling her would give her the confidence and security to open up. More than being curious, he felt like he was on the outside of her life, looking in. He wanted to be on the inside. He wanted her on the inside of his life, too.

He tried to guess what she was hiding. It was like a game, when he was bored, to think of all the crazy things she could be keeping from him. It had something to do with her ex fiancé, he knew that. Maybe the guy was a member of the mob, and she had to hide from him. Maybe he was a drug dealer and she made off with some of his good stuff and if he found her, he'd kill her. Maybe he was a politician with a wife and kids and a good life and he sent her away with a bunch of money if she wouldn't say anything. He had to wonder what a former Bartender was doing that she could afford the house she lived in and the car she drove. He didn't figure she was from money-at least she didn't act like she was from money. She didn't work, except for a few shifts a week at Antigua. She was going to school. Shopped every week, showing off some sexy new thing every time he saw her. She was having a good time, and didn't seem to be worried about what she was spending. Either she was nuts and tits deep in debt, or she was loaded.

His head reeled at the possibilities. Some of them were outrageous. Some of them could very well be true. He wished he could know for sure.

Lights were on, at the house. Porch, living room, and upstairs that he could tell. Shelby's car was in the driveway. He twitched, straining against his jeans. That made it official. Every part of his body was looking forward to seeing her.  He pulled into the garage and got out of the car, headed toward the interior door that led to the kitchen.

He hadn't even fully entered the house before a blur came into his vision and something-someone, rather, had climbed him. Was hanging off of him. Legs wrapped around him, arms around his neck, lips on his cheek, hair in his face. He felt the rumbling of her moans in her chest, the twitching in her body.

"Hey, hey. Hi."

"Hi," she answered, her face shoved into his neck. "I can't believe how much I missed you."

"I missed you, too. You okay?"

"No."

"No?" She shook her head. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No," she answered. "Take me upstairs."

Sounded good to him. "Well. Okay, then. Hang on for the ride." He snapped the lights off in the kitchen and the hall and climbed the steps, cupping her against him the entire way up the stairs, down the hall to his bedroom. A single lamp was on, the TV was on but muted, the bedspread showed evidence that she'd been laying there until he got home.

"This is kind of nice," he said, dropping her gently onto the bed, beginning to unbutton his crisp white dress shirt. "I like that you were here when I got here."

Shelby laid on the bed where he dropped her, watching him undress. Her eyelids were heavy, but her eyes were open and didn't miss a thing. He finished undressing, peeling off the soiled briefs and tossing them toward a basket in the closet. Shelby was undressed, wearing one of his shirts and a plain cotton pair of panties. Oddly he found them just as sexy as her lace or mesh ones, especially when she wasn't wearing anything else.

Things didn't feel as urgent as he thought they would. Maybe because they'd already had a climax earlier, and could take their time with each other, but he didn't feel rushed at all. He was even home pretty early so they'd have lots of time to take it slow and do it right.

JC reached up toward the top of the bed and folded back the light bedspread and sheets. Shelby got up and climbed inside them while he rescued the remote from the certain death of being kicked under the bed. He navigated to a music station and turned off the display, just letting the audio play through the speakers mounted throughout the room. Soft music drifted through the room, circling them, enveloping them in a mood. He slid in between the sheets, toward the warm figure in the middle of the bed waiting for him.

Shelby's voice was soft in his ear. "I just want to lay here with you for a little bit. I don't want to rush it, you know?"

"Sure," he said rolling toward the edge of the bed, leaning out of it toward the drawer, retrieving the small, square package, ripping it open and rolling on the thin latex material in the dark. "Whenever you're ready, we're good," he said, moving back toward her.

Her head found his chest and he felt her relax against him, a deep sigh coming from her body. He dug his fingers into her hair and kissed the crown of her head. He had no idea what was going on in that brain of hers, but he was just going to give her some time. Be close to her. Feel her heart beat on top of his and her body close to his. And even if they feel asleep and didn't do anything, he was so much happier than he would have been without her.