6-Month Waiting Period

There's a fine line between losing your shit and actually tumbling over the edge. I have spent most of my life teetering on the edge, desperately trying to avoid the inevitable tumble. But fuck, the fall is fun sometimes.

"Sara, I'm gonna need you to hang back for a few after the show. We've got some stuff we wanna throw at ya."

Shit.

I'm 27, right? Well, Charles thinks I'm a fucking child. We've spent 3 of the last 6 months in a musty-ass van, sharing canned foods that his grandma left in the cupboard of his now impounded Winnebago. So much for seeing the country.

When I signed up for this gig, I was enamored with the musings of "tour life". Charles was a singer-songwriter who used his guitar and grisly, middle-aged voice to take you on some of the greatest lyrical rides you can imagine. I packed up my P-Bass and gear, hopped in, and here we are.

Oh. Where are my manners? I'm Sara. And my life is pretty fucked up, but fun. I guess you could say I have dumb luck, though I like to call it a twist of fate.

Anyway.

I walked into the green room of the venue expecting to find Charles with a scolding look but was surprised to find Bailey (our fucking gorgeous drummer) sitting alongside his brother—I later learned his name to be Brad. The room swirled with smoke, and Bailey had a wild look in his eyes. His wispy, dishwater blonde hair was damp from the show, and he sat with his legs crossed in a fashion that would make any sensible woman weak at the knees.

For years, I've secretly wondered what he carried underneath those hippie-clad clothes. And let's be honest...he was a tease. More times than not, I would notice his side-ways glances when I would emerge from the shower in an oversized tee. If it weren't for the awkwardness of traveling the country together playing music, I would've already tried my luck, if you know what I mean.

"So, Sara. Brad and I have a bet going. He thinks he could get you to fuck the both of us, and I think he's full of shit. Which one of us are right?' Brad. Fucking narcissist. If I ever had a chance with Bailey, he would be the one to sabotage it.

"Well, you're definitely wrong, you arrogant son of a bitch." I couldn't stand the thought of giving him the satisfaction, but damn.

When Charles finally caught up to me, I was a little flushed and feeling flustered. We discussed some changes we wanted to make to the set list for the remainder of the tour, and I had a hard time focusing. The wild look in Bailey's eyes mixed with the adrenaline that was rushing to all of the wrong places had me wondering and hoping for the hypothetical. Lame, right?

It was around 1am before we finally got to the small hotel outside of Stillwater. Our next gig wasn't until the next weekend, but we decided to hole up and do some sight-seeing before going back at it full-throttle. Charles rented two rooms—one for the guys and one for me. But more nights than not, Bailey would end up in my room. Charles was one hell of a snorer.

I unpacked my stuff from the van, and Brad helped carry my things into my room.

"He wants you, you know. He talks about you all of the time. Won't shut up about you, really. Mom thinks he should tell you." Holy shit. He told his mom about me? Play it cool, Sara.

Bailey walked up shortly after, with the last of my stuff in hand.

"Here you go, bitch."

Ok. He's not so smooth. But with those looks, why would he be, right?

His crooked smile returned, and I felt myself for the first time blush. Damn. What the hell was this boy doing to me?

After we were settled, I took a long, hot shower. I could feel myself becoming more and more aroused at the thought of Bailey...his thin, sleek figure with his arms wrapped around me as water cascading on and around our warm bodies. I trailed my hand down and around my essence, feeling a tinge of expectancy. With a jazz playlist bumping on Spotify, I talked myself into a mood. There was no turning back. I teased myself for a moment before becoming weak in the knees. I shut off the water and grabbed a towel when I heard a knock on the door. To my surprise, I saw Bailey's beautiful green eyes through the peephole.

"Hey...Brad is super fucked up and Charles won't stop snoring. One more minute of that and I may lose my sanity." He laughed as I welcomed him in, dripping wet in more ways than one.

I went into the bathroom to get dressed and I heard him laugh to himself.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing, really. Just thinking about how Brad was being such a dumbass earlier. I shouldn't have said anything." I could hear the sincerity in his tone.

"Ya know, I wouldn't mind. As long as he wasn't there." We both awkwardly laughed and simultaneously said 'anyway'.

I laid down next to him, our bodies close enough to feel the warmth of each other. I could feel an urge continuing to rise up.

"So, would you? I mean, if Brad weren't—"

He stopped me mid-sentence by placing his lips firmly against mine. I could feel a desire from him, and every fear imaginable went racing through my head. After a few seconds I pulled away.

"Bailey. Are you sure?"

He paused briefly as the crooked smile formed once again on his face.

"I'm certain."

In a whirlwind of moments, our bodies were naked and pressed against each other. He was gently kissing me, using his hands to bring me to the brink of explosion. I reached down to find he was already hard as a rock, and the thought sent me into a state of absolute euphoria. I stroked him gently, careful not to push him over the edge. He stopped long enough to tuck the stray hairs behind my ear as he gently caressed my face with his free hand.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, Sara. Why the hell have I waited so long?"

I laid down, eager to feel the length of him inside of me. This moment was one I had played and replayed in my head on nights I needed a release. Bailey in bed with me was one thing. Bailey fucking my brains out? That was another.

He gently fell into rhythm with my body, each and every thrust as gentle as the last. I grabbed ahold of his hair and kissed him harder than I had ever kissed anyone, enjoying every second of our bodies together. I could feel myself close to orgasm, and with each gentle thrust, I wanted this to never end. He pulled out as he exploded, just as I could feel myself tremble. He quickly replaced his dick with his equally talented tongue, and instantly found the perfect rhythm. He kissed my essence, sucking gently as he did. In and out with his tongue while I held onto his beautiful head of hair, I was certain this was as much euphoria one person could stand. My body began to tremble as I experienced one of the most earth-shattering orgasms imaginable. He was there to clean up the aftermath, as I lay trembling. He laid back and let out a sigh.

"I don't ever want to wait that long to fuck you again. 6 months is enough to kill a man."