Just a Hick Town Guitar Player

When it came to sex, Clara continued to surprise me; she rang me on my cell phone one afternoon, and with low husky sultry voice, suggested that I should invest in a few sex toys before I came home. There only two adult shops in town, and I drove to the one at the other end of town in case someone I knew saw me go in. Clara was waiting eagerly for me to arrive home; she pounced on the brown bag and emptied two vibrators out on to the couch, and removed them from their packets. Without a word, she slipped her tracksuit pants and panties down to the floor and stepped out of them. Slipping a finger into her mouth and then down to her bald pussy, Clara then spread her legs wide and placed the vibrator between her lips. She smiled and briefly closed her eyes as the first shivers of pleasure flowed through her.

"Mmmmmmmmmmm, feels nice." she whispered. "Bring your cock over her so I can suck it."

Seconds later I was kneeling on the couch with Clara's warm mouth was around my cock sucking gently as she toyed with her pussy below.

"Mmmmmmmmm, fuck my mouth, and cum over my face." she asked. "Race you to cum."

It was a race that I lost convincingly, for Clara raked up two orgasms in quick succession before I even got close. Slipping her new toy inside her and closing her legs to keep there, Clara then turned her attentions to me, with her mouth wide, she allowed my thrusting cock to fly back and forth in her mouth until I cum. She took the first shot into her mouth, but promptly closed it taking the second and remaining on her lips and chin. She then sat back on the couch as my cum dribbled down her chin and hung disgustingly below. She wiped it from her chin with her fingers and smeared it between her pussy lips before making an even bigger mess with the vibrator.

"Mmmmmmmmm, gooood fuuun. "I'm always horny this time of the month." she commented with a sultry smile.

I looked down at her with an evil grin, "Can't wait for next month."

"Honey, this month ain't finished yet, I'm like this for a couple of days."

I hope you've made dinner." I joked. "I'm hungry."

Clara laughed, "Not a fucking chance, make it yourself."

At the time, I didn't realise Clara's interest in writing music had returned. She had recorded and burnt some of my own guitar stuff onto a CD, and spent some time writing lyrics to it while I was at work. I was kind of surprised when she sprung it on me, mainly because I didn't think it was good enough. But over the next few weeks, I played along while she refined her lyrics, and the end results were impressive. Clara had also written some of her own material, and between us we had a compilation of about ten songs, nearly enough for an album according to her.

It was a good time for both us, our relationship had slipped into that nice comfortable mode; we wined and dine at restaurants at whim. I was allowed to drive the Cayenne anytime I liked which was a buzz. But like all good things, it eventually had to end.

It was a fine Sunday morning when Clara told me she had to leave for a few days. I guess I was a little downhearted, for I thought Clara might not come back. She laughed and asked me to drive her to the airport, and if she didn't come back, I could have the Cayenne, a fair swap some might say. To cut a long story short, Clara dropped a CD of our music into her record company, and after listening to it and a little negotiations, a deal was struck. Over the next few weeks, Clara came and went like the wind, I was invited to go along, but my job held me back.

Once the concert promoters got wind of Clara's reappearance and a hint of new material, the pressure was put on for a concert. At first Clara declined all invitations, for she didn't feel up to fronting up to the world again, but nearly a year after she disappeared, she stood for the first time in front of an audience of three thousand people in a seated theatre. From the rear of the stage I watched with some pride as Clara stood in front of her old band and delivered some of her old songs, her powerful voice stunning her wide eyed audience. So enthralled was I with her performance, I was completely unaware of the conspiracy that was about to befall me. After four songs, Clara smiled at her appreciative audience and waited for the applause to stop before stepping to the microphone.

"Thanks for coming along tonight, its good to be back after such long break."

Again she waited for the clapping to stop.

"Been doin a lot of thinking while I've been away, guess I've made a few silly mistakes, but its all behind me now. I've got some new songs for you tonight, hope you like them. Before I go any further, I want to introduce you to my inspiration, a man who's kinda changed my life when I most needed it. When I first met him, he asked me what it was like to stand in front of thousands of people and wow them. He don't know it yet, but I'm gonna ask him to step on the stage and accompany me on an acoustic version of some new material."

The next thing I know is that I'm being led out on stage, Jeff Mills was waiting and handed me my guitar with a big grin.

"Tuned and plugged in, ready to go. Knock em dead."

Two tall stools had been placed in front of me; Clara was waiting in one and pointing to the other. I managed to stumble onto the second stool, I played an A cord to ensure everything was as it should be. Clara grinned at me before giving me a wink; then turned to the microphone.

"This song we've named 'Forgotten Yesterdays'."

They told me that I didn't open my eyes until the end of the first verse which I guess was probably true. The excitement then overcame my nerves, and my eyes turned to Clara who was holding the microphone and singing with that deep pure voice. With bright lights focused on the stage, I couldn't see out into the audience, which was probably a good thing. We'd practiced our new material time and time again getting it right, but hearing it amplified out into that theatre was surely something else, the mellow sound of my guitar complimenting Clara's powerful voice as she mesmerised our audience. I accompanied Clara with three songs before I took my shaking knees back to the rear of the stage, but only after rapturous applause. Clara gave me a little peck on the cheek and whispered into my ear that it was probably time to give up my day job.

My life changed dramatically after that night, for I did indeed leave my day job. Over the next year, we produced a studio album which did very well, and then hit the road on a concert tour. Half way through each concert, I would do four ballads with Clara, and then she would get the band back on stage for the more rocky material.

Clara never failed to amaze me with her almost Jeckle and Hyde type behaviour. During the day she could be an uncompromising bitch, pushing the band with rehearsal after and rehearsal until everyone was ready to drop, an uncompromising young woman who would stubbornly stand her ground against anybody to get what she wanted. But it was the same woman that would curl up into bed beside me at night and cuddle up like a child. Over that time, we grew very close as a couple, her affection towards me was always there, the holding of hands, or the tiny pecks on the cheek, or those lovely smiles that would instantly turn my heart to jelly.

As time went on, I thought more and more about formalising our relationship; and on a whim purchased a very large engagement ring. I carried that ring in a box in my pocket for nearly two weeks before I conjured up the bravery to pop the question. We were in a fine restaurant when I knelt before her on one knee and offered her the engagement ring. I guess Clara was surprised as most of the other diners at my gesture, and looked down at me with her big soulful eyes for a few seconds.

"Will you marry me?" I asked.

Clara got down off her chair and knelt in front of me, taking my face in her hands, she kissed me passionately for a few seconds.

"You're a silly, silly man." she muttered ignoring our audience.

"Why silly?"

"Cause you didn't have to wait for this long to ask me." she replied while offering her finger for the ring.

We got a standing ovation from the other diners which looking back was kind of embarrassing, and the restaurant gave us our meals on the house. But Clara later told me it was the most romantic thing that had ever happened to her.

Isn't it funny how life turns out? I hated the person who stole my trusty guitar from my car those so many months back. But if he hadn't, what would have been the chances of me meeting Clara, probably none? I'd still be working as an insurance investigator, probably without a girlfriend and minding my own business in an otherwise boring existence. I never expected to see Clara again after I'd been beaten up; the fact that she remembered me enough to try and find me is something I'll always cherish. Clara once told me that having someone to love has made her life that much more worthwhile, and I'll make sure that I'm a good friend as well as a lover. Her sense of humour hasn't waned, for she still loves to shock me with her sometimes crude proposals and mannerisms, but I love her heaps and wouldn't have it any other way.

I'm bright enough to realise that our happiness will depend on how much effort we put into our relationship which our unusual lifestyle will no doubt put added pressure upon, but I've got this real good feeling its going to work out okay.