Surrender

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My time in a U2 cover band.
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GC66
GC66
28 Followers

Everyone in this story is aged 18 or over. Names have been changed, however.

This happened in 2002.

I'm a bass player. I was buying strings at a local music store and chatting with the guys about the local music scene and where we'd played recently. I hadn't played out in over two years. An acquaintance named Eric came in the store. We chatted for a while. Eric said his younger brother, who sang and played a little guitar and piano, was forming a U2 cover band and they needed someone to play bass.

"Interested?" he asked.

"Yeah!" I replied enthusiastically. "I love U2!"

"Well, let me make a call," said Eric. After about seven or eight minutes, he returned.

"They're having a practice tomorrow at three. My brother's name is Denny. He's been playing bass, but he hates it. He just wants to sing and occasionally play guitar," said Eric. He asked the clerk for a piece of paper and scrawled Denny's address on it. "I'll let him know you're coming."

I thanked him. The next day, I showed up with my trusty Fender and after several not bad renditions of some U2 songs, they invited me in the band.

At 36, I was easily the oldest member of the band, which we ultimately called Surrender. After a month of practices, we got tight and we'd compiled a two-hour setlist of U2's big hits, some live favorites, and a few songs they rarely, if ever, played live.

The drummer, Paul, who was also the business manager, booked our first gig: a private party for a group of university students. We charged $300 and $5 for admission. Okay, the gigs probably weren't going to make me a millionaire, but I enjoyed playing.

Halfway during the first show, I noticed a little blonde girl who had moved to near the front of the stage. She was probably around five feet tall. She was not the dainty waifs many girls her size were, but she was not chunky like she needed to drop some weight. She had an pretty face, long straight hair, big brown eyes, wide hips and wide shoulders, and perfectly proportioned breasts.

Very cute girl, I thought. I kept glancing her way and she smiled a few times at me.

Following the show, we showered in the nearby men's locker room to wash off the sweat of two hours of playing under hot lights in a room with so-so ventilation. Afterward, we mingled with the audience. I'm not exactly comfortable in such situations, but I tried to be polite, answer peoples' questions and accept praise with grace.

The little blonde walked up and introduced herself as Natalie. "My friends call me Nat," she said, extending her tiny hand.

"George," I said, shaking it. "A pleasure."

"Wow! You guys are sooo good!" she gushed.

"Thank you."

"How long have you been together?" she asked. "I've never heard of you guys before."

"Oh, a little over a month I guess," I said. "This was actually our first gig."

"No way!" she said.

"Yeah," I insisted.

"You guys sound like you've been together for years."

"Well, you get a group of good musicians together and work hard and play for the music, and good things just tend to happen," I said.

"Oh," Nat replied. "Well, I just wanted to say you guys are really good. The band we had last year sucked. And they even had a record deal!"

"Say, Nat," I said, feeling bold. "Want to grab a bite to eat? I'm starving. My treat. Unless you're with someone."

"No, I'm alone," she said sadly. "The only thing open right now is the Pancake House or Mickey D's."

She implied she wouldn't be caught dead at Mickey D's.

"Okay," I said. "The Pancake House it is."

"Yeah!" said Nat excitedly.

After loading my gear in my car, Nat and I drove the mile to the Pancake House.

As we waited for the food, we struck up a conversation.

"Single or divorced?" she asked.

"Single," I said. I commented that I was surprised that she was alone on a Saturday night.

"Dating! Ugh!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "You know, I've had three dates in two years here!"

"You don't get asked out a lot?" I asked surprised.

"Not really," she said. "I get asked out a lot by the creeps, that's it. No way! All the best guys are taken."

"Why?" I asked, genuinely perplexed.

"Why?" she asked. "Look at me!"

"I am, Nat," I said. "What's wrong with the way you look? You're a very beautiful woman. Any guy who wouldn't be interested is a fool. And for the record, I don't consider myself a fool."

"Thank you," she said. "I've always been... I dunno... Weird looking. And I don't slut around. There's plenty of girls here who do, let me tell you."

"Nat, trust me," I said, realizing what her issue was. "You are beautiful. Don't judge yourself by the women you see in magazines and don't judge yourself by others' opinions on what makes a woman beautiful. Just be yourself."

"Thank you," she said. Her cheeky smile lit up the restaurant.

The food arrived and we had a nice talk. I dropped her off at her off-campus apartment and saw her to the door and exchanged phone numbers. The night ended with a kiss on the cheek. Soon, we became an item. Some of her friends distrusted my motives because of the age difference. I didn't care one whit. Nat was an adult and she could make her own choices. But I moved slowly, not wanting to appear that my only interest in Nat was sexual. I genuinely loved being with her.

Then one night, it happened. We were at her apartment on her sleeper sofa watching a DVD with little interest.

"Um, George," said Nat shyly. "Can I do something?"

"Like what?" I asked, hitting the stop button on the remote.

"This!" She suddenly straddled my lap and began kissing me roughly. Nat may have been tiny, but she was surprisingly strong.

"Slow down, huh?" I said laughing. "What the...?"

"You're getting laid tonight, mister!" she said giggling.

Music to my ears!

"Okay, but slow down. Let's make this last a while," I said.

I pulled off her shirt and unclasped her bra. Her smallish round breasts were so firm they barely moved.

"Love these tits, Nat," I said as I sucked on her nipples and kneaded her beautiful ass. She moaned loudly.

She reached behind herself and began stroking my cock through my jeans. Then she not-so-gently unbuttoned them and pulled them and my boxers off. Eventually she was down near my erect cock. After she gave it a few pumps, it looked like she was going to go down on me, but hesitated.

"Something wrong, Nat?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm not really good at giving head," Nat said. "Oh, man, you're thick!"

"Just get it all wet," I said. "Lick it everywhere. Spit on it."

Within a few minutes, it was from base to tip.

"Alright," I said. "Put the head in your mouth and just slowly work your way down."

It took a while and several attempts to get past her gag reflex, but Nat got nearly all six-and-a-half inches in. Her second attempt was much smoother; she only gagged once. I felt an orgasm coming on and stopped her.

"Stand up, Nat," I said. She did. I unbuttoned her jeans and pulled off jeans and her barely-existent panties to reveal a puffy, pink, shaved, and very wet pussy.

"Oh, that's beautiful," I said.

I pushed her onto her back and pulled her legs apart. She panted and moaned as I pleasured her. She bucked and groaned loudly as she came.

"Oh, no one's done me like that before!" she cried. She came again a couple of minutes later. "God, George...!" she panted.

I moved and put my cock at the entrance to her pussy and slowly buried it in her. She was tight. Really tight.

"Ohhh fuuuck!" she moaned in ecstasy as I slowly filled her. She went wild as I fucked her for what seemed like an hour. Catholic or not, I regretted not buying condoms and I didn't want a kid.

"Oh, damn!" I said. "You on the pill, Nat?"

"Nope," she said.

I reached for a wad of tissues from the table, hoping that it would hold the major load I was certain was coming.

"I wanna try and swallow it!" she said suddenly.

"Okay," I said.

Nat took about half of me in her mouth and ran her tongue under the head. I came violently in about thirty seconds. She took about three-fourths of it. The rest dripped on her beautiful chest and belly.

"Damn!" was all I could say.

"It's not as bad as I'd heard it was," Nat said a little later. "Little salty." She walked to the kitchen for a glass of water.

"Huh? You never...?" I asked incredulously.

"Nah. First time," she said.

Nat and I were together a little under a year, but Nat was a too career-minded. We drifted apart.

The band stuck together for a couple of years, but we broke up, too.

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