Ascending Lauren Ch. 22

"You just want to see me in tight pants."

"And that's a bad thing?"

Just then a cacophony of laughter exploded in the background. One giggle sounded very familiar.

"Who's that?" Corey asked.

"Oh, just some of the neighbors. And Amy, of course, my plus one. She followed me home from work. You remember her."

The legal secretary bombshell was hard to forget. A little hottie who was not only one of his wife's coworkers but a sometimes lover as well.

"Take her."

"What? Oh, she'd never..."

"Take me where?" Amy stumbled onto the screen, her fresh, youthful mid-twenties face appearing.

"Winter Death and Sadistic Beaver."

"Hey, be nice," the blonde looked down at her crotch. "I mean, it can be a little bitchy sometimes, but cold and mean, never."

"The bands, you dork. The one I won tickets for."

"Uh-huh."

"I can't make the show," Corey piped up, "but I told Lauren she should take you."

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

Amy shrugged. "Sure, why not. But you owe me."

"How?"

"Bad Bunny is coming in the fall. On your tab, Mister. All three of us."

The project manager rolled his eyes and mugged. She knew that would be asking a lot from him. He hated that genre.

"Sure, sure. Whatever. Anything you want."

"We'll see about that."

Lauren yanked the phone back and stared into it. "Guess I have a date."

Corey's crotch tingled. Typically, that terminology when used between two female friends was completely innocuous. But considering the last time he'd seen the buxom secretary, she and Lauren were sharing a fountain of Tommy's jizz, the prospect of those two going to a concert together was incredibly exciting. He would have liked to dwell on that thought but instead opted to tell her about Caroline helping them move when the time came.

"That's nice of her. I didn't know about DeAndre. Uh, you didn't happen to mention Zane, did you?"

"No. Didn't seem like the right time."

"Good. Less drama the better."

In the background, several people called for Lauren to rejoin the party.

"You better go," Corey grinned affectionately. He tried to squash the pit in his stomach that he always felt when she talked about her friends in Miami. Some, he knew, were fucking her, and those that weren't wanted to. Still, he had decided to take Zane's advice.

Embrace it. Get off on it. Own it.

"Okay, love you," she professed. The video became jerky again as she walked back to where her friends were.

"Laur?"

The cute pixie peered closely into the phone. "Yes?"

"Can you wear your anklet to the concert?"

A broad, smug look swept over Lauren's face. "You know only old fucks like you go to metal shows anymore, right?"

"Will you?"

She detected a bit of heavy breathing in his tone.

"Can I, or will I?"

Corey gulped. "Will you?"

"I'll think about it."

"And...and...and send pics?"

She nodded and winked. "We'll see, Twisty. We'll see."

++++++

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Friday, February 16th. Five days to go.

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The end of the week proved to be a busy one at Rekrap Industries. Jones and the executive committee narrowed down the purchase of a marina from the three recently visited to just the one in Sunny Isles. Needless to say, Friday afternoon was a flurry of proposal finalization which would be presented to the board on Wednesday.

That evening, in anticipation of the concert, Amy brought a change of clothes into the city and changed at Lauren's. It wasn't a show the twenty-six-year-old was particularly excited about but just being near the older woman was kicky enough. Surely another roll in the hay with her slinky coworker was in the back of her mind. After all, the pair had made love a time or two.

An hour before the show - and a couple of hefty joints later - the pair found themselves hopping in the back of a taxi on the way to the Palatial Palace.

"Tonight's the night, folks!" the dashboard radio blared, "Eighties rockers Winter Death take the stage at nine o'clock. Don't miss seeing the classics live that we play right here on The Rock. Tics still available!"

Lauren gazed out the window as downtown Miami slid by, punctuated by an annoying number of red-light stops. She smiled nostalgically at memories of her and Corey getting stoned and rushing the stage 'back in the day'. They were as vivid as yesterday, as were all those songs by the regretfully waning quintet. The great lead singer Maxi Rath, drummer L.Z., bassist Todd Bankhead, and the dual axe attack of Sansabar Graham and Razor Rodgers!

Razor Rodgers. Guitar god, millionaire, every teenage girl's wet dream. Lauren chuckled as she remembered once, while they were having sex, Corey had asked if she ever masturbated to anyone. 'A few' had been her answer, when she really meant Razor.

Pedro the Latino taxi driver laughed when they told him their destination.

"Nice. That's zee metal sound, no? Gonna do a little mother-daughter mosh pitting tonight?"

The comparison was not new to the women; they'd been mistaken as being related before. Both found it kind of kinky. Lauren was about to correct him when Amy stopped her.

"Let him think what he wants," she whispered, putting her hand on the older woman's knee. "It's...kind of hot, doncha think?"

The office manager placed her hand over the blonde's and leaned in. "Can't disagree, Babycakes." They shared a chuckle as they saw the driver eying them in the rearview.

Nestled against each other for the fifteen-minute ride, the girls made small talk, relishing their time together, as always. While consummate professionals at work, off the clock they liked to get a little...well, wild. Neither could deny it. As an executive at their firm, Lauren had been reluctant at first to fraternize with the legal secretary outside of the office. But gradually, as they became good pals, and even friends with benefits, the coworkers became BFFs. It was true they liked to have fun, and that included enjoying the company of men and infrequently, each other. The pair had also taken to hanging out at Randy Sandy's, cheering on Autumn Breeze's performances, and getting hit on by an endless stream of horny guys.

But what would tonight bring? Lauren asked herself, stealing glances at the younger woman's attire. At such a young age, Amy was undoubtedly one of the hottest women she'd ever seen. Big bright sapphire eyes, hefty breasts, and a slim hourglass body; the girl wasn't just sexy, she was erotic, much like their friend Chloe. Tonight, the girl looked especially fine with long golden hair hanging stylishly over a sparkly black backless halter top, not unlike a princess in some children's fantasy. The spaghetti straps across her tan shoulders showed plenty of skin up top, while a light blue denim skirt did the same for her legs below. More than once had those spicy eyes enticed Lauren to do things she otherwise wouldn't. Simply delicious.

Amy wasn't oblivious to the sexuality oozing from her girlfriend either. That shiny jet-black hair had been straightened to perfection and was now falling gracefully over Lauren's small breasts. Proudly wearing a black leather corset that accentuated her curves, the older woman exuded a confidence that Amy liked to think she had a hand in bolstering over the past few months. Hugging her torso snugly, the top enhanced her figure without apology and showcased her willingness to go bold. Held together by a silver zipper that ran the length of the garment, it was just begging to be tugged on. Complimenting that was a pair of tight leather pants that clung to long legs, adding a touch of rebellion to an already hot outfit. The shiny material added a sleek and polished edge to the look, as did thigh-high leather boots, black of course, adorned with a fringe running down the back, And those heels! Those damn things could do damage if they stepped on a foot. To complete Lauren's ensemble, she had selected large silver hoops that caught the light of the passing streetlights, drawing attention to her face and framing it with a touch of metallic sparkle. Amy was pleased that her friend had taken to wearing slutty makeup too, expertly learned from the blonde no less - which emphasized her features and highlighted her confident and saucy demeanor. While some crow's feet and lines around the mouth had begun to form on the maturing face, judiciously placed dark purple eyeshadow and eyeliner eliminated their prominence and gave her a sultry look. Even bolder burgundy lipstick enhanced her lips, giving a devil-may-care allure.

With a metal grommet belt wrapped tightly around her waist, Lauren definitely nailed the 80's metal chick persona.

+++++

Winter Death w/Sadistic Beaver. One Nite Only.

Amy crouched low on the sidewalk and snapped a pic of Lauren under the large theater marquee. Finding Corey's number in her contacts, she texted it to her BFF's husband. The guy was used to getting texts from her and in much more compromising places than this one.

Queuing up in line, they made their way into the vintage movie house which, according to a plaque, was built sometime in the early nineteen seventies. Converted into a concert hall years later, it still retained its colorful walls and mosaic ceilings, although the rug in the lobby was wearing a bit thin.

As expected, most patrons were a bit older than Lauren. Fans of Winter Death tended to be around Corey's age, when a few metal bands began trending toward a more melodic, progressive-rock sound. Most of the men in attendance wore fading, too-small-for-their-pot-belly concert tees and blue jeans. Hairlines were thin, if they existed at all, and gray follicles were the color de jour. One could tell many of the women were not there of their own volition, having been dragged there by husbands and boyfriends of equally poor physiques. As the girls stood in the beer line, Lauren imagined these proud fans thirty or more years ago. Most, like her and Corey, would have worn their hair long, tits high, fists raised and had a spark in every step. It was sad to behold how time had tempered their 'youth gone wild' attitude and raped them of their health. And yet, it was a testament to the longevity of this kind of music and how, for just a few hours, everyone in the house longed to be transported back to the days when they danced in the aisles, smoked like chimneys, fucked for hours, and stayed up all night.

Perhaps that's why Lauren had decided on the outfit she did. Beyond satisfying a perverted husband's kink, maybe a small part of her wanted to keep alive the sexiness of rock n roll, even if it was just for a minute. But alas, many there had forgotten, as evidenced by the number of baggie blouses and mom jeans that most of the women there wore. And some appeared to have made no attempt whatsoever at looking good for their men. That may have been the saddest thing of all. While Lauren had never been as deep into the music culture as her husband, waiting there for beer made her wonder: what happened to sex, drugs, and rock n roll? Was it all now just Viagra, 401ks, and trips to the chiropractor?

Thankfully, not all rock fans had bad memories, and at least a few appreciated women who were thoughtful enough to show up looking like time had stood still. At least three guys, maybe more (they lost count), approached the two friends and offered to buy rounds. More interested in simply quenching their thirst and getting to the stage, the girls politely declined. But that didn't stop the quick peeks and even a few stares from all corners of the lobby as they exited the concession line and made their way to the auditorium. Not all were from men, either. It seemed there were some very insecure ladies with guys that had wandering eyes.

Armed with twenty-four ounces of golden liquid refreshments in hand, Lauren and Amy finally made their way down to the pit. It wouldn't have been their first choice, of course, but free was free. After a few selfies to send Corey, they were able to set up shop on a security railing in front of the stage, just to the left of a roped-off area that housed the monitor board. Sadistic Beaver, a young non-recording group from Jacksonville, hit the stage amidst flash pots and smoke rings. The music was raw and loud, with the energy of an up-and-coming band that was vying for their first big record deal. Most of the members appeared to be in their early twenties, all with long hair and sporting the obligatory leather. Lauren paid little attention to them, but it soon became apparent that Amy fancied the lead singer, a sneering young man with yellow hair and a braided beard. Lauren saw their eyes connect several times followed by mutual smiles and shook her head.

Uh oh, here we go.

After the opening act closed with several rousing songs, Lauren made a trip to the ladies' room, leaving Amy to guard their position. No way did they want to miss Winter Death up close and personal. Grabbing a couple more beers on the way back to the auditorium, the polished brunette sashayed down the side aisle, aware of shifting eyes that clung to her gait. Most of the looks came from appreciative men - and a girl or two - as her rolling leather-clad hips bounced her ass cheeks up and down. Predictably, some were intense daggers of despise too, flung from the faces of disillusioned peroxide blondes who had stopped caring what they looked like years ago. Whatever. Lauren wasn't about to apologize for it. She worked hard to stay tight and lean. Not only for her man but for herself. And lately, others as well.

Cutting to the front of the stage like a wedge, the older woman saw Amy still by the railing, chatting excitedly with a long-haired roadie on the other side of the rope. As she approached, the blonde was absolutely beside herself. With a huge smile she held up two laminated 'All Access' passes attached to colorful lanyards.

"From Liam the singer," Amy gushed while placing one around Lauren's neck. "For after the show."

Lauren rolled her eyes, mocking her friend's excitement. "You never even heard of the band before tonight and now you want to hang out with them?"

Amy shrugged. "I've never had tofu either, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't try it."

That got the brunette giggling. She wouldn't expect anything less from the girl.

The mosh pit - did they even call it that anymore? - was filling up quickly and the girls steeled themselves against the metal barricade lest they lose a primo spot. Several guys tried to chat them up, but with dry ice beginning to float from under a large curtain that was drawn across the stage, the two weren't interested in meeting any new suitors, right then anyway. Besides, there was such a sexual undercurrent between the pair already, they knew, regardless of where the night took them, there was some type of sexual relief in their future. They just didn't know what kind, or where.

Arm in arm, the pair held each other while waiting in anticipation. While Amy had no clue as to what songs the headliner did, she was happy for Lauren who was ready to rock out to songs that had at one time been the soundtrack to her life. The chilly special effect continued to flow over the edge of the platform, thickening, triggering a predictable response from myriad braless nipples in the crowd. This natural phenomenon did not go unnoticed by several dialed-in guys whose pre-game activities apparently included elbowing each other about the few hot women that had made their way to the front.

Then, without warning, the house lights dimmed, and fountains of fire blinded the auditorium. The curtain dropped, and suddenly there they were! Winter Death in all their glory!

From the first metal chord to the last, the band had long-time fans eating out of their hands. Razor Rodgers was directly in front of the girls as the quintet led the crowd through the first three songs without interruption. Lauren snapped photo after photo, intending to send them to Corey later. Every note triggered a memory, transporting her back many years. Only when the relentless music stopped did lead singer Maxi Rath addressed the audience, thanking those who had taken the time to come out and help celebrate thirty-six years of head-banging noise.

The girls looked at each other with somber amazement. Thirty-six years! Unbelievably, that was ten years longer than Amy had been alive! It was also sobering. Not just from the irony and their disparate ages, but the fact that Lauren's finger and tongue had been inside the younger woman's cunt several times. A pussy that had not even been born when Lauren married Corey.

Christ.

Any thoughts about the blonde's anatomy quickly faded when Razor paused and wiped his face with a towel. His gaze wandered over the crowd until it landed on an exceptionally stunning woman with black hair, who exuded a style reminiscent of metal chicks from the past. This is a chick who 'gets it'. Their eyes locked, causing the world to momentarily stand still. The band, however, didn't share the same moment and playfully teased their guitarist to start the next song. Dodging a stick thrown by the drummer, Razor reluctantly tore his gaze away from the captivating woman and launched into one of the group's most beloved songs.

Lauren followed Rodgers as he prowled the stage, just as he had for decades. Though the days of prancing around shirtless were clearly behind him, she could still see that he maintained his fitness, evident from the snugness of his vibrant shirt and the way sweaty parachute pants clung to his body. His hair remained black and long but styled more fashionably. He was still as attractive as ever, and Lauren couldn't help but sigh, secretly harboring those feelings for him over the years. And now, here he was, just a few feet away! He may have aged, but like fine wine, he had only gotten better, in stark contrast to the out-of-shape fans he was mesmerizing with his guitar solos. Enchanted by his godlike presence, she focused her phone on his every move, capturing every digital moment.

With increasing frequency, Razor started stealing glances in Lauren's direction, hoping to capture her attention. During a slow and powerful ballad, the rocker took a seat on a stool, strumming an acoustic guitar, and it felt as if he was singing directly to her. As their eyes remained locked, Lauren felt young again; her hips swayed to the music, her body moving sensually, emitting an air of sexual allure. Feeling a surge of intimacy, she moved stealthily behind Amy, her arms embraced the young woman. Resting her chin on Amy's shoulder, they felt the warmth of a shared experience and a feeling of being together.

This rather intimate moment did not go unnoticed by an audacious stranger who pressed his crotch against Lauren's buttocks. She couldn't see his face, only the array of tattoos adorning his arms as he firmly grasped her hips. Initially startled, Lauren made no effort to break free, content to engage in a slow dance to the acoustic set, her eyes fixated on Razor. Unbeknownst to Amy, she heard her friend let out a moan, only to glance down and discover that she had unwittingly become part of an unexpectedly erotic encounter.

As the stranger continued to press his groin against Lauren's backside, she pushed back, encouraging his advances. Emboldened by her lack of resistance, the unidentified fan proceeded to slide one hand between her legs while the other groped her breast through the supple leather of her corset. Between the guy molesting her from behind, and the furtive glances from Razor, Lauren's heartbeat quickened, and a sense of anticipation filled the air. Her hips began to sway to the rhythm of the music, her body moving with a sensuality that exuded unspoken desire. In that moment, nothing else mattered. The music, the crowd, the passage of time--all became significant, factors in the hipness of the scene.