I love kids I really do and I wish I had more than just the one, not that she’s not enough for me as she is, still it would’ve been nice to have had a whole brood ya know? Sitting here watching Jilly as she moves effortlessly around the house, taking care of everyone, including all us band guys and our families as well as various in laws and siblings, not to mention Jon and his brood, as well as their own child, Libby, for who’s christening party we’re all here, and I am lost in admiration for her. I see Pippa over the other side of the room and she’s holding Libby.
Wow, I wish I had a camera. Now that is a definite Kodak moment. To see my woman, the professional child hater, holding and, hang on, is that? Yes, cooing over a baby is a revelation. It’s one of the things we argue about, in fact the only thing we ever argue about. I don’t get how a woman can have such a major dislike for children. I mean isn’t that what women are here for? To be maternal and all that? Now before you start on me that’s not what I mean at all. I know women are just as important as men but they are the ones that conceive and carry then give birth to children, it’s part of their genetic make up so to meet one who professes to hate them is a bit weird, that’s all. I just know I’m gonna get hate mail for this.
She doesn’t know I’m watching her. I wonder if I can closer and capture her on my phone with Libby in her arms. I just don’t get it man, she looks so natural holding Libby and playing with her fingers and toes, her long red curls draping over her shoulders and being played with by Libby. As I try to make my way over to her, quietly, I can see Jon watching her as well. He’s such a protective person these days. I mean he’s always been there for us all but ever since he met Jilly, it’s like he wants to wrap her and their child up in cotton wool and protect them from the world. He looks every inch the proud papa. Stephanie and Jesse are in the kitchen with Ava, helping Jilly get the food ready for all us starving people. Jake and Romeo are somewhere outside with playing football with Colt, David’s kid.
Shit man, how did I get here? One minute I’m Mr Rock Star and the next I’m surrounded by kids and sharing the spotlight for the poster band for Family Life. It’s fucking crazy I tell you. I mean all of us have been married and divorced at least once and we’ve all got kids now. We’re almost suburban. Almost….
I am so near to Pip that I can smell her perfume, L’Ombre dans l’eau, before you ask, by diptyque. It’s French, in case you were wondering and has a dry smoky scent that drives me wild. She knows it does. She’s tormenting me at the moment cause I asked her again this morning about having a child together. I won’t repeat what she said only to say I’m glad Ava wasn’t around! I’ve got her framed in my phone. She’s got hold of Libby’s foot and is making her laugh by gently pulling her little toes.
Click! The camera was a bit louder than I realised and now she’s mad with me for taking it but she looked so fucking adorable with Libby that I wanted to capture it. Ha! Getting my own back as she knows she can’t move while Libby’s on her lap. Jon’s in the kitchen, supposedly helping Jilly, but we all know he’s gone in there to kiss her.
“Hey babe.” I say.
“Hey.” she answers, not looking at me but seemingly captivated by this tiny baby, “Isn’t she adorable Rich?”
Eh? Is this Pippa speaking? My Pip? Ok, who are you and what have you done with Pippa?
“Yeah, she is. Be interesting to see who she takes after. Jon’s other kids all share his features.” I say, nonchalantly, though my heart is bursting with love for this woman.
I sit on the edge of the chair she’s sat in and reach over to stroke Libby’s soft baby skin, smelling that universal baby smell of milk and talcum powder.
I breath it in deeply, closing my eyes, a big smile on my face. God I love that smell. That gorgeous clean baby smell that just makes you want to hold on to them and never let them go. It seems Pip isn’t as unaffected as she’d like as she breathes in deeply as well and then sighs.
Libby really is a gorgeous baby, she had a dusting of light brown/blonde hair and the most amazing electric blue eyes that just seem to stare right into your soul. I remember being at the hospital when she was born, as Jon had been in the studio when Jilly went into labour and had been in no fit state to drive, and I was taken right back to when Ava was born. To see another life come from the one you love is the most humbling experience I’ve ever had and I remember just sitting for hours staring at her, unable to take my eyes off her. She was my child. Mine.
I catch Pippa looking at me with a strange expression on her face, almost wistful, and I lean over to drop a kiss on the top of her curls.
I know she has a problem bonding with people, she told me about quite early on in our relationship but I wish she would go and see someone about it and move past it. Whatever happened, happened in the past and can’t be changed. All she can do is change her reaction to it.
Jon comes over.
“Hey Rich, Pip. Can I take her? Jilly needs to feed her.”
“Yeah sure Jon.” Pippa says as she scoops her up to hand her over to her proud daddy.
“She been ok?”
“Oh she’s been fine, we’ve been playing pull the toes. It’s a new game but I’m sure it’ll catch on.” Pippa smiles up at him as he takes his precious cargo and walks off to where Jilly’s waiting.
Pippa leans back in her chair and stretches her neck.
“You got knots babe?” I ask, gently pressing down on her shoulders.
The wince followed by a groan tell me I’m correct. Still she has spent the better part of an hour all hunched up, playing with Libby, so I’m not really surprised.
“Mmm” she whispers as I press harder.
She turns away from me, holding her hair out of the way and presenting me with her back. I put both hands on her shoulder and begin the massage. I dig deep knowing she loves it, feeling the skin and muscle become more pliant under my touch.
“I love the smell of babies. Don’t you?” I ask, knowing she’s relaxed.
“Yeah, it’s a wonderful smell.”
“Libby is just so gorgeous isn’t she? Jon says she’s hardly ever cried since they brought her home and that she sleeps straight through the night as well.”
“Mmm? Really?” Pippa mumbles, her eyes closed.
“Wouldn’t you like one?” I slip the question in knowing she’s relaxed enough to answer me truthfully and wondering why I haven’t done this before. Pippa has a tendency to hide her feelings until she’s fully relaxed or drunk, then you can get them from her easily.
“Oh yeah, I’d love that.” she murmurs, then stills. Her eyes fly open and she twists to look at me.
“Son of a bitch!” she hisses at me, “I can’t believe you’ve asked me that.”
The smile vanishes from my face as I look at her, her face is completely pale, those huge tiger eyes staring at me in a blind panic over what she’s just let slip.
She gets up from her chair and walks out the back into the garden. When I catch up with her I find she’s managed to grab a cigarette from someone, Tico probably, and is puffing away furiously. She glares at me as I approach.
“Why do you always have to bring it up? Why can’t you just let it be?” she asks, dropping ash onto the grass.
“You know why babe.” I say, determined to stand my ground and not give in.
“Don’t Richie, just don’t. Why can’t you just be happy with me?” she asks over her shoulder as she walks off, away from me.
I am happy with you I wanna shout out after her but no words come out. I am happy with her, I just feel that having a child would cement what we have. But that ain’t gonna happen all the time she has that in her head
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“What ya doing babe?” I asked her as she pulled away from me to rummage around in the bedside cabinet.
“Condom.” was her muffled reply, her backside wiggling almost in my face. I stretched out a finger and lazily rubbed her clit, causing her to stiffen and moan.
“That can wait” I said as I pulled her back to me and thrust my fingers inside her. Pippa moaned loudly and began to buck under my touch as I gently rubbed her clit and finger fucked her. I could feel her orgasm coming and knew I had to have her there and then.
I began to push my way into her, she was so totally lost in her orgasm that she didn’t really register what was happening until I was fully sheathed inside her. Oh god it felt so good, her hot flesh contracting around mine. I almost came right then. Slowly I pulled out and then slammed back into her, causing her to throw her head back, her eyes fluttering, her hair spread across the pillow. God she was so tight and hot I knew it wasn’t going to be long for me. I could feel the heat as my balls contracted and it began to spiral upwards. Grunting I thrust in and out, a few more strokes. The white heat was now becoming unbearable and I groaned and called her name as it sped upwards and out into her.
I flopped down onto the bed besides her and drew her in for a cuddle. She opened her eyes and stared aghast at me.
“Richie! Oh my god, you didn’t use…” the look of panic across her face started to scare me.
“What?” I asked, then belatedly remembered the condom I hadn’t used, “Oh.”
“Oh? Is that all you’ve got to say? Oh?” she stared at me, getting angry.
“It’s no biggie is it? I mean we are together, we have a committed relationship. Maybe a child would be a good thing?” I said, reaching out for a breast to play with.
She sat up so suddenly my hand flew back off her and smacked me in the face. At any other time it would’ve been comical but one look at her face told me this was not one of those times.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? Since when has having a child been a good thing for us? Have I ever said I wanted a child? No! In fact I’ve told you all along I don’t want children.” she all but spat at me.
“Yeah you have but you’ve never said why.” I said quietly.
“Because.”
I just stared at her.
“Pip, tell me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. Come on we’ve been together for 2 months, can’t you trust me?”
She sighed and leant back against the headboard.
“This is the longest relationship I’ve ever had with a man.” she began in a small voice, I grabbed her hand and squeezed it, “I’ve never been able to bond with anyone, so why I’ve bonded with you is a mystery to me,” she laughed mirthlessly.
I sat up and looked at her, not saying a word, as a single tear ran down her cheek. I knew it was costing her a lot to be this open and all I could do was support her.
“When I was born my mum suffered from post partum depression and didn’t want to be anywhere near me. She was cold and distant towards me, but no one knew why. My Nan looked after me for the first six months of my life until she died, then my mum had to take over but her heart wasn’t really in it. When my brother came along she had a different doctor who put her on medication and she took to him straight away. All my childhood all I ever wanted was for my mum to hug me like she hugged my brother but she rarely did. When I met Jilly it was like I had a new family as she and her parents were so demonstrative with each other and included me in that. From about the age of 8 when Jilly moved in next door, I spent most of my time with her and her family. At one point I remember asking her mum if she would adopt me and she thought it was so funny she told my mum who just became more cold towards me and told me she wished I‘d never been born, that I was a bad one. I had to be otherwise she‘d feel more for me than she did. So now you know the reason why.” she finished and looked down at her lap.
“Oh honey,” I said, pulling her into a hug, “That’s awful. Do you think you’d be like that? Is that the real reason you don’t want children?” I asked, feeling her nodding against my shoulder,
“Oh sweetheart, don’t cry. You’re not to blame for that, nor should you think you’d be the same.” I tilted her head up to look into her eyes, “Listen to me darlin’, I am never going to leave you, ok? I am here for you and I love you.”
She burst into tears and sobbed on my shoulder. I wanted to find her mum and kill her for what she’d done to her daughter.
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I give her 20 minutes to find a spot and settle down then I go looking for her. I find her in her favourite spot. Jilly’d had a bench installed in a secluded part of the garden, mainly to give Jon some peace and quiet away from the family but Pippa loved it too. It was by a small fish pond.
“Hey.” I say softly as I sit next to her.
“Hey.” she replies, staring at the koi carp in the pond.
“I’m sorry babe, I just get overwhelmed with happiness for Jon and I guess I want some for myself.”
“But you’ve got Ava.” she says.
“Yeah, but she’s not yours.”
“I…I…I loved holding Libby, I just get so scared that if she was mine I’d feel nothing for her and she’d end up all fucked up like me.”
“You are nothing like your mum. You are a kind, crazy, wild, loving woman who I love with all my heart, and there’s nothing wrong with being fucked up at times. The trouble comes when you know what’s wrong but you don’t fix it.” I say, holding her close to me, feeling for the first time the vulnerability under the brash surface, “besides do you really think I’d let you get away with not loving our child? I’d whomp yo ass woman!” I say, smiling at her.
“Oh Richie I love you so much.” she says, leaning back on me, “So who do you think they’d take after? Me or you?” she says, stretching her legs out.
I just smile and hug her.
Sunday 22 February 2009
Part Three - Pippa's story
I sit here in the sunshine and watch Jilly trying to get comfortable in her large overstuffed sun lounger. I have to hide my smirk as she shuffles around trying to get the pillow into the right position. It can’t be that comfortable being that pregnant or that huge in this heat. Thank god it’s not me. Rich and Jon are playing football with the boys and Stephanie is feigning sleep on her lounger next to me, with her earplugs in and her ipod blasting some god awful racket straight into her teenaged brain. Ava is lying next to her, also doing the same. After a rocky start she has come to accept me as a permanent fixture in her dad’s life and we have a truce of sorts which translates as I ignore her most of the time and she does the same to me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike her as a person, I just don’t do children. That came out wrong. I don’t get along with children, of any age. I don’t know why, I just don’t. Unless they can hold a decent conversation and can legally have a beer I’m just not that into them. I sound awful don’t I?
Jilly is just so huge I can’t help but stare at her. I can’t believe she’s only six months pregnant,. She looks ready to burst and if I pricked her with a pin she’d probably explode all over the place. Not that I would prick her with a pin, plus I’d never get within 2 feet of her with a sharp object. Jon has eyes in the back of his head when it comes to Jilly and Richie has never seen him so protective over a partner before. According to him Dot was the one who did the protecting in Jon’s earlier marriage. You’re probably wondering why I’m not helping her get comfortable. I did try but she shushed me away and told me she wasn’t a cripple yet. Stephanie brought her out a pillow and made cooing noises about her which were just so alien to me I nearly spilled my vodka down my chin, Jilly has always been the kind of person that makes everyone want to take care of her whilst I‘ve always been treated as if I could take care of myself. It‘s not my fault that she‘s petite with a voluptuous Mother Earth type figure and personality and I‘m tall and lean with a pair of boobs stuck on at the top, or that she‘s got naturally long blonde hair that shines with health and vitality and I‘m stuck with red curls. Although my hair is my saving grace. It’s not the faded orange that we call Ginger with a hard G nor is it the dark red of Julia Roberts. It’s a bright burnished Titian, pure red with highlights. If you’re not sure what colour titian is go google it. Nancy Drew had the same hair colour. My eyes are pretty cool too, they’re hazel but with slithers of gold and cocoa in them, giving them an almost tigerish look
You’re probably also wondering why in hell we’re friends. We’ve been friends since the first year of primary school back in the early 80‘s, which carried onto secondary school in the 90’s and beyond. We were the only two in our secondary school year that were still into the big hair bands of the 80’s which suited us fine. Whilst everyone else was into dance, hip hop, trance and those god awful raves, Jilly and I would while away the hours listening to Bon Jovi and Aerosmith, discussing the finer merits of Jon and Richie and whether Steven Tyler was handsomely ugly or just plain ugly.
Oh Richie, I have had a crush on him since I was 9 and first saw the video for Living on a Prayer. There was just something about his handsome face with that cloud of dark hair, chocolate eyes and cheeky smile that made my heart go boom. I remember my mum asking me when I was about 10 what it was that I wanted to do with my life and I told her I was going to marry Richie Sambora.
Of course she thought that was a boy a school but I knew better. Thankfully Jilly was more into Jon so there was no clash. Oh I remember when he married Dot. Jilly was a mess, we were only 12 but her whole life crumbled and I was there for her. She was there for me when Richie married Blondie. Oh god I remember that day so well. I got to school, late as usual, in my trade mark black. I think at that point the school had given up trying to make me wear the school sweater and just left me to it. I waltzed into class for registration and one of the various blondes that hung around popped her head up and made a remark about how I was in mourning cause Richie had married Heather in Paris. How I made it through that day I do not know.
So you could see how excited I was when Jilly told me she’d won that competition and that she wanted me to come with her. I was over the moon! I was leaping around my flat for about 2 days before it really sank in that I might finally be on my way to meet Richie. I knew, or rather prayed and hoped like mad, that he would be there.
I remember walking into the restaurant and seeing him sat at the table. My legs turned to jelly, I swear, and how I got to the table without falling over I will never know. Oh god he was everything I had ever dreamed of and more. Funny, smart, caring, sexy as all out and did I mention funny? He had me in hysterics from the get go, which was good really as Jilly was totally captivated with her blonde god.
Normally I am not the kind of person to run off with someone about 30 minutes after meeting him but, fuck me, it was Richie Sambora. You would too, don’t lie.
We left the two dreamers, who didn’t even notice we’d gone and rushed up to his hotel room.
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He pushed me up against the door, slamming it shut in the process. I was so thankful I’d worn a short black dress instead of my usual black trousers when I felt his hand snake under the skirt and brush against the top of my thigh. He kissed me hard, his tongue thrusting into my mouth to taste me and let me taste him back. I moaned, deep in my throat, I know I did as his fingers gripped my thigh tight for a moment and I could feel him twitching through his jeans, pressed hard against my stomach.
I’m 5ft 9in but with my heels on I was not that much shorter than him.
He thrust his fingers under the elastic of my knickers and straight into my pussy. He found my clit and pinched it, not too hard but hard enough to make me squeal and for moisture to come flooding out of me, lubricating his fingers, ready for him to slip them into me. Which he did, with a passion.
I have never been finger fucked so hard nor so good before. My orgasm hit me so quickly that it was partly over before I’d had time to register it.
He pulled back slightly from me, pulling his fingers out of me and, looking me straight in the eye, he proceeded to lick every digit clean. His pupils had dilated so much his eyes were almost black and I’m pretty sure mine had done the same. I had no use for words, which was good as I’m pretty sure none would’ve emerged had I tried.
I could feel my internal muscle walls contracting and fluttering with the aftershocks of my orgasm, and could only stand (just) and stare at him as he led me over to the bed. He pushed me down onto the soft coverlet and, placing his hands at the top of my thighs, scratched lightly down my legs. I just moaned and closed my eyes as a plethora of pleasurable feelings flooded through me. Talk about sensory overload. My every nerve ending was on fire.
He began to lightly lick the scratch marks he’d made, I thought I was about to die and go straight to hell as surely heaven would never allow this much pleasure to be experienced by one person. The pleasure I was feeling was nothing compared to what I felt when his mouth closed around my clit and sucked softly. I jumped so high he had to hold me down on the bed. He slipped his finger inside me and together with his tongue brought me to another amazing orgasm.
I reached for him and pulled him up so that he was level with me.
“You like that babe?” he asked, his voice husky, mouth smeared with my juices.
I could only nod as speech really had deserted me at this point, and try to mime what I needed. The git just smirked at me.
“What was that babe?” he smiled at my hand play.
“You wanna play charades?” he asked, slowly stroking my engorged clit.
I think at this point my eyes were bulging from their sockets and all the air in my lungs had been replaced with treacle.
“F…f….fuck..me!”
“Is that a statement or a request?” he asked with a devilish grin.
I could only stare at him, I didn’t even have the energy to grab him and point. He must’ve taken pity on me as he smiled and thrust himself inside me in one swift movement.
Oh my god! To be stretched and filled that much by just one person ought to be outlawed! It was amazing, glorious, fantastic, [insert superlative]. I felt like I was on fire and drowning at the same time. He began to move against me, thrusting first deeply then shallower until I was just a bundle of nerve endings.
I looked up into his face and smiled. His hair had flopped forward over his forehead and he looked absolutely gorgeous and as sexy as hell. I reached up and ran my fingers lightly down his face, grazing his lips with my fingertips. He groaned and sped up. I moved my head up slightly capturing those biteable lips in a kiss and felt him thrusting into me harder.
I locked my legs around his back, forcing him deeper into me. I sucked on his tongue, making little mewing sounds in the back of my throat as I felt the pleasure beginning to tingle again, moving up through my toes until it burst through again, taking me along with it. Richie groaned as he exploded within me.
We lay there together on this huge bed and grinned at each other.
“Damn woman, you are gonna kill me one of these days.”
“Does that mean I’ll get more opportunities do kill you then? I asked, smiling at him, my curls in a state of disarray.
“We’ll see.” he said, his eyes twinkling, a small smile on his face.
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That was almost a year ago and we’re still together. The thing that happened to Jilly brought us closer than I could ever imagine and I moved in with him permanently soon after that. I had lived with him prior to that but we have such a tempestuous relationship that sometimes I just fled when it got too much. Not now. I will never leave him now, even when he starts up the old argument of having another child. Jilly just smiles at this and says I’ll change my mind. I don’t know, maybe I will, maybe I won’t.
Richie waves at me and I wave back, blowing him a kiss. Ava sees this and snorts in derision. I’m tempted to tell her what my lips were doing to her daddy’s cock this morning but even I’m not that much of a bitch.
Maybe Jilly’s right, maybe I ought to spend more time getting to know Ava.
I close my eyes and let the hot sunshine bake me. I’ll sleep on it.
Jilly is just so huge I can’t help but stare at her. I can’t believe she’s only six months pregnant,. She looks ready to burst and if I pricked her with a pin she’d probably explode all over the place. Not that I would prick her with a pin, plus I’d never get within 2 feet of her with a sharp object. Jon has eyes in the back of his head when it comes to Jilly and Richie has never seen him so protective over a partner before. According to him Dot was the one who did the protecting in Jon’s earlier marriage. You’re probably wondering why I’m not helping her get comfortable. I did try but she shushed me away and told me she wasn’t a cripple yet. Stephanie brought her out a pillow and made cooing noises about her which were just so alien to me I nearly spilled my vodka down my chin, Jilly has always been the kind of person that makes everyone want to take care of her whilst I‘ve always been treated as if I could take care of myself. It‘s not my fault that she‘s petite with a voluptuous Mother Earth type figure and personality and I‘m tall and lean with a pair of boobs stuck on at the top, or that she‘s got naturally long blonde hair that shines with health and vitality and I‘m stuck with red curls. Although my hair is my saving grace. It’s not the faded orange that we call Ginger with a hard G nor is it the dark red of Julia Roberts. It’s a bright burnished Titian, pure red with highlights. If you’re not sure what colour titian is go google it. Nancy Drew had the same hair colour. My eyes are pretty cool too, they’re hazel but with slithers of gold and cocoa in them, giving them an almost tigerish look
You’re probably also wondering why in hell we’re friends. We’ve been friends since the first year of primary school back in the early 80‘s, which carried onto secondary school in the 90’s and beyond. We were the only two in our secondary school year that were still into the big hair bands of the 80’s which suited us fine. Whilst everyone else was into dance, hip hop, trance and those god awful raves, Jilly and I would while away the hours listening to Bon Jovi and Aerosmith, discussing the finer merits of Jon and Richie and whether Steven Tyler was handsomely ugly or just plain ugly.
Oh Richie, I have had a crush on him since I was 9 and first saw the video for Living on a Prayer. There was just something about his handsome face with that cloud of dark hair, chocolate eyes and cheeky smile that made my heart go boom. I remember my mum asking me when I was about 10 what it was that I wanted to do with my life and I told her I was going to marry Richie Sambora.
Of course she thought that was a boy a school but I knew better. Thankfully Jilly was more into Jon so there was no clash. Oh I remember when he married Dot. Jilly was a mess, we were only 12 but her whole life crumbled and I was there for her. She was there for me when Richie married Blondie. Oh god I remember that day so well. I got to school, late as usual, in my trade mark black. I think at that point the school had given up trying to make me wear the school sweater and just left me to it. I waltzed into class for registration and one of the various blondes that hung around popped her head up and made a remark about how I was in mourning cause Richie had married Heather in Paris. How I made it through that day I do not know.
So you could see how excited I was when Jilly told me she’d won that competition and that she wanted me to come with her. I was over the moon! I was leaping around my flat for about 2 days before it really sank in that I might finally be on my way to meet Richie. I knew, or rather prayed and hoped like mad, that he would be there.
I remember walking into the restaurant and seeing him sat at the table. My legs turned to jelly, I swear, and how I got to the table without falling over I will never know. Oh god he was everything I had ever dreamed of and more. Funny, smart, caring, sexy as all out and did I mention funny? He had me in hysterics from the get go, which was good really as Jilly was totally captivated with her blonde god.
Normally I am not the kind of person to run off with someone about 30 minutes after meeting him but, fuck me, it was Richie Sambora. You would too, don’t lie.
We left the two dreamers, who didn’t even notice we’d gone and rushed up to his hotel room.
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He pushed me up against the door, slamming it shut in the process. I was so thankful I’d worn a short black dress instead of my usual black trousers when I felt his hand snake under the skirt and brush against the top of my thigh. He kissed me hard, his tongue thrusting into my mouth to taste me and let me taste him back. I moaned, deep in my throat, I know I did as his fingers gripped my thigh tight for a moment and I could feel him twitching through his jeans, pressed hard against my stomach.
I’m 5ft 9in but with my heels on I was not that much shorter than him.
He thrust his fingers under the elastic of my knickers and straight into my pussy. He found my clit and pinched it, not too hard but hard enough to make me squeal and for moisture to come flooding out of me, lubricating his fingers, ready for him to slip them into me. Which he did, with a passion.
I have never been finger fucked so hard nor so good before. My orgasm hit me so quickly that it was partly over before I’d had time to register it.
He pulled back slightly from me, pulling his fingers out of me and, looking me straight in the eye, he proceeded to lick every digit clean. His pupils had dilated so much his eyes were almost black and I’m pretty sure mine had done the same. I had no use for words, which was good as I’m pretty sure none would’ve emerged had I tried.
I could feel my internal muscle walls contracting and fluttering with the aftershocks of my orgasm, and could only stand (just) and stare at him as he led me over to the bed. He pushed me down onto the soft coverlet and, placing his hands at the top of my thighs, scratched lightly down my legs. I just moaned and closed my eyes as a plethora of pleasurable feelings flooded through me. Talk about sensory overload. My every nerve ending was on fire.
He began to lightly lick the scratch marks he’d made, I thought I was about to die and go straight to hell as surely heaven would never allow this much pleasure to be experienced by one person. The pleasure I was feeling was nothing compared to what I felt when his mouth closed around my clit and sucked softly. I jumped so high he had to hold me down on the bed. He slipped his finger inside me and together with his tongue brought me to another amazing orgasm.
I reached for him and pulled him up so that he was level with me.
“You like that babe?” he asked, his voice husky, mouth smeared with my juices.
I could only nod as speech really had deserted me at this point, and try to mime what I needed. The git just smirked at me.
“What was that babe?” he smiled at my hand play.
“You wanna play charades?” he asked, slowly stroking my engorged clit.
I think at this point my eyes were bulging from their sockets and all the air in my lungs had been replaced with treacle.
“F…f….fuck..me!”
“Is that a statement or a request?” he asked with a devilish grin.
I could only stare at him, I didn’t even have the energy to grab him and point. He must’ve taken pity on me as he smiled and thrust himself inside me in one swift movement.
Oh my god! To be stretched and filled that much by just one person ought to be outlawed! It was amazing, glorious, fantastic, [insert superlative]. I felt like I was on fire and drowning at the same time. He began to move against me, thrusting first deeply then shallower until I was just a bundle of nerve endings.
I looked up into his face and smiled. His hair had flopped forward over his forehead and he looked absolutely gorgeous and as sexy as hell. I reached up and ran my fingers lightly down his face, grazing his lips with my fingertips. He groaned and sped up. I moved my head up slightly capturing those biteable lips in a kiss and felt him thrusting into me harder.
I locked my legs around his back, forcing him deeper into me. I sucked on his tongue, making little mewing sounds in the back of my throat as I felt the pleasure beginning to tingle again, moving up through my toes until it burst through again, taking me along with it. Richie groaned as he exploded within me.
We lay there together on this huge bed and grinned at each other.
“Damn woman, you are gonna kill me one of these days.”
“Does that mean I’ll get more opportunities do kill you then? I asked, smiling at him, my curls in a state of disarray.
“We’ll see.” he said, his eyes twinkling, a small smile on his face.
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That was almost a year ago and we’re still together. The thing that happened to Jilly brought us closer than I could ever imagine and I moved in with him permanently soon after that. I had lived with him prior to that but we have such a tempestuous relationship that sometimes I just fled when it got too much. Not now. I will never leave him now, even when he starts up the old argument of having another child. Jilly just smiles at this and says I’ll change my mind. I don’t know, maybe I will, maybe I won’t.
Richie waves at me and I wave back, blowing him a kiss. Ava sees this and snorts in derision. I’m tempted to tell her what my lips were doing to her daddy’s cock this morning but even I’m not that much of a bitch.
Maybe Jilly’s right, maybe I ought to spend more time getting to know Ava.
I close my eyes and let the hot sunshine bake me. I’ll sleep on it.
Saturday 21 February 2009
Part Two - Jon's story
Thank god she’s still sleeping.
I look down at my beautiful wife, the shock and pain of the past 24 hours still evident on her worry lined face that even sleep hasn’t erased. She’s so beautiful and she’s mine and I will, to my dying day, never let anyone hurt her. I really want to touch her, to stroke her hair and soothe away both her worries and mine but I know as soon as I do she’ll wake up and remember and the pain will begin again.
The air is still and calm in our bedroom, the dogs snoring lightly at the foot of the bed. Her hair shines pale blue in the moonlight that has filtered through a chink in the curtains.
---------------------------
I knew as soon as I met her that she was the one, it was just a pity I had to get her really drunk in order to marry her but then we had only known each other for about seven hours at that point. It took a lot of greasing palms and one hell of a lot of paperwork but we were married again exactly one month after the first time and everyone turned up. Hell I always seem to get married in little chapels off the main strip in Vegas, it was refreshing to say our vows to each other in front of our friends and family.
Pippa was Jilly’s maid of honour and Richie was my best man, not only cause they’re our closest friends and family but hell, they’re dating each other and it seemed the right thing to do. Especially after Richie threatened to bust my ass if anyone but him got to dance with Pip. They make a great couple, tempestuous and fiery but great together. I’m so glad he’s finally found someone to be happy with.
It was a great day but still feels like a poor substitute for that moment in time when you know you’re going to be with this person, your soul mate, for the rest of your life. Just one moment, one clarity of thought and the rest of the world doesn’t matter. You’re where you’re supposed to be with the person you’re supposed to be with , doing what you’re supposed to be doing and everything else pales in comparison.
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I love watching her sleep. Ya know I am so not a morning person but I’ve woken up every morning since we met just to watch her sleep. It’s peaceful and I can spend my time just drinking her in. My note books that stay by the bed at all times are just full of lyrics about her, most will never see the light of day, even Richie thinks they’re too sappy and he’s the biggest sap going!, but a few may be worked into songs. She’s the most wonderful person I have ever met, she gives me so much and takes so little. She stands behind me ready to catch me if I fall and to be caught in her arms I would risk falling now and again.
---------------------------
My friends thought I was mad to have married someone I’d just met, especially with all the hassle with immigration that we’d have to go through but I didn’t care.
I remember when she came walking into the restaurant, Richie nudged me and said something about a tall redhead but I only had eyes for the short blonde next to her. We’d gotten to the restaurant a little early when Jilly first walked into my life and lodged in my heart. Objectively, she’s not conventionally beautiful, her nose has a bump on it that detracts from a flawless side profile and when she smiles her mouth opens a little too wide - after working in the entertainment business for 20 odd years I notice these things. It’s sad but true. When the unemployment rate for actors is about 90% at any one time we’re constantly on the look out for imperfections. Everyone does it. From the casting couch to the housewife buying National Enquirer. Everyone looks for the flaws and no one looks at the person. Jilly was the first person, I’m ashamed to say, in whom these imperfections didn’t matter. She’s extremely attractive, beautiful to me, and such a warm and loving person that everyone who’s met her has fallen for her: my band family, the crew, my parents, even my children and they’re the fussiest people I know. Dot’s still reserved but then hell if she wasn’t we’d probably still be married.
------------------------------------
God I wish she’d wake up, so I can hold her and touch her and tell her how much I love her before I show her how much I love her. The past 2 days have been an absolute nightmare for me, god knows what they were like for her.
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My kids chose to stay with their mom after the divorce so it really didn’t matter where Jilly and I moved to. Pip had moved in with Richie, then moved out then back in again, in LA so we decided to spend some time in California before deciding where to put down roots and when she told me she’d seen him I didn’t believe her. We’d only been married for 2 months and I guess I thought it was her guilt over dumping him on the phone that was making her see him everywhere. Even when the phone calls started I still didn’t believe it was him. You know those nuisance calls you get when you pick the phone up and have to wait to be connected to a sales person who is trying to sell you some long distance call saver package from AT & T or Bell.
I didn’t take any notice at first, mainly cause I was in the studio during the day with Rich and the guys and was rarely home before 10pm most nights. I know it sounds like I’ve been leaving my new bride alone but Pippa was over most days. I told Jilly to leave the ansaphone on and if I needed to call her I’d call her mobile. This seemed to do the trick until one night I was home early, as Richie had promised to be home early for Pippa or he was gonna be divorced before he was even married I think were her exact words. Anyway we got 5 calls in a row, just silence and then the faint disconnect sound. I called the police but even as I was explaining the situation it sounded silly. A few random sightings of someone who may have been him plus a few nuisance calls that may or may not have been the telephone calls. The police were sympathetic but explained that as I had no real proof that it was this guy that there was nothing they could do, except sent a car round our area regularly.
----------------------------
Jilly shifts in her sleep, the quilt has slipped sideways, her perfect breasts exposed to the cool night air. Sighing I replace the quilt to keep her warm and she murmurs and smiles, still fast asleep. I know I’ve sung about it but I really would die for this woman, though, hopefully, I’ll never have to.
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We changed the phone number and for a while things got better. She wouldn’t jump every time the phone rang and she had her old sparkle back.
Then she started to see him everywhere. Jilly isn’t used to being in the Jovi Family and is more used to going shopping by herself instead of with someone. I tried to get her to take Pippa but it seems that Pip and Rich have another thing in common, both hate waking up before midday, so Jilly would quite often go by herself. As I was usually in the recording studio by 9.30 I didn’t know this. She would be out food shopping, look over at the queue and see him staring at her then when she’d look back there’d be no-one there. I didn’t really know what he looked like as all she had when she’d first come over was a small snapshot in her wallet, I mean her purse. It’s so silly, her wallet is her purse and her purse is her bag. God, the language barrier of those who speak English. There was one time when she asked me whether she should wear pants under her trousers and I just stared at her dumbfounded, wondering how in the name of all things holy she was going to be able to get two pairs of trousers on, then I realised she meant panties. Well in the end she didn’t even get to put her panties on before we had to shower…again.
The phone calls started again when I went into the studio properly with the whole band to start laying down tracks, and had to leave early in the morning and rarely got home before midnight. Some nights not at all. She was scared I know but short of having her in the studio, which would’ve distracted me to no end, there was no way around it, plus we lived in a gated house so she should’ve been safe. A week after I started laying down tracks it seemed that she must have been mistaken as the calls and sightings just stopped. I know the guys were relieved as a few times we’d be in the middle of something crucial and my mobile would go off. After this I started putting it on silent, I know this upset Jilly but I thought she was just being silly, alone in the huge house by herself. I thought she was jumping at shadows.
Until I got that call.
My phone rang in the middle of Richie laying down some guitar tracks and Tico went to grab it. I got there first and went to turn it off. I stopped as I saw who it was from.
“Jon!! Come home, Greg’s outside and he’s trying to get in. Oh Jon I’m so scared, please!” I could hear the terror in her voice.
“Hey honey calm down, what do you mean he’s outside?” I asked, worried.
“I opened the gates for the postman but it was him. I didn’t realise until I opened the front door, I managed to shut it but he’s outside.” her voice quavered with unshed tears.
“Have you called the cops?” I asked, knowing she hadn’t.
“No I wanted to speak to you.”
“Jilly, listen, get off the phone and then call 911, I’m leaving now. Ok?”
The sound of glass breaking. It will haunt me forever. Then Jilly was screaming down the phone before a dull thud then the sound of the phone being placed back on the receiver.
I stood, staring blindly at the dial tone coming from the phone, utterly paralysed with fear. Richie and the guys just looked at me. As quickly as it had come over me it vanished and I raced out of the studio, leaving the guys staring after me. The studio I had chosen to work in was only 10 minutes by car from our house but that day it seemed to take forever. I dialled 911 as I sprinted towards my car, praying no one would see me and try to hold me up. The last thing I needed was any of the paparazzi to get wind of this and follow me.
Finally I reached my car and gunned it into action leaving trailing marks as I screeched out of the car park. All I could think of was Jilly. If he hurt her I would kill him.
The police were already there when I got home, surrounding our once safe home. As I pulled up I noticed a SWAT team which could mean only one thing. Greg had a gun. My heart stopped. I know it did, I was there.
Somehow I managed to find the man in charge and explained who I was. Apparently the real postman had turned up and hearing screaming, had called the cops before I had. All I could do was stand behind the barrier, outside our gates and feel useless. I had been in control of my life since I was about 18 years old and to find I could do nothing when the life of the one person I loved most hung in the balance was almost too much. My Jilly, my love, was trapped inside our house with her ex, who, by al intents, was going to kill them both and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do.
Richie had, at this point, turned up with Pippa and they two stood beside me as the minutes ticked by. I know I was getting on the nerves of the man in charge but I couldn’t help myself, I was more nervous and full of energy than before any show. I felt impotent as I could only watch as someone called through a loud speaker, asking for Greg Edwards, for that was his full name, to put the gun down and hand himself in. The cops had been on the phone to their English counterparts who in turn had contacted Greg’s parents and had discovered that he had suffered from paranoia when he was a child and various other mental illnesses. The pain and violence had always been there, Jilly dumping him had broken the dam that kept them in and he was out for revenge.
Gunshot.
The most heartbreaking sound you could ever hear. I gripped Richie’s arm so tight I bruised him as the cops rushed our house, all thoughts of decorum long gone. I heard a howl of anguish and realised it was me. Tears poured down my face when I saw her being carried out, her arms wrapped tight around a policeman.
Run legs damn you.
I sped, stumbled and limped my way over to her and hugged her for all I was worth. We wept in each others arms, unable to let the other go, even as Greg’s body was carried past us on a mortuary stretcher. Single gunshot wound to the head was the cause of death.
He hadn’t wanted to harm her, not physically anyway. He’d wanted her to know what she had done to him before he’d killed himself in front of her. He was a very mentally sick man but I do feel for him. To be carrying that amount of pain around inside with no outlet for it is no way for anyone to live.
-----------------------------------------
Oh the dogs are awake.
Vinnie, the greyhound, stretches languorously on the end of our kingsized bed, with Eejit, the whippet, stretched out between his legs. Both are rescue dogs and adore both each other and Jilly. Me? They just tolerate me cause Jilly loves me but I think they prefer it when I’m not there. They’ll be wanting to be let out soon. Oh to hell with that, I ain’t leaving her till she’s awake.
Talk of the devil
“Morning wife.”
“Morning husband.” she whispers, mid yawn, “Have the dogs been walked yet?”
“No, I didn’t want to leave until you woke up.” I smile down at her, loving her even more than I did ten minutes ago.
“Well I’m awake now. Jon, I’m fine and I’m going to be fine, so there’s no need to worry. In fact all 3 of us will be fine.”
“All 3?..” confusion takes a hike as realisation puts the boot in.
“Morning Daddy.” she grins, reaching up for a kiss
I look down at my beautiful wife, the shock and pain of the past 24 hours still evident on her worry lined face that even sleep hasn’t erased. She’s so beautiful and she’s mine and I will, to my dying day, never let anyone hurt her. I really want to touch her, to stroke her hair and soothe away both her worries and mine but I know as soon as I do she’ll wake up and remember and the pain will begin again.
The air is still and calm in our bedroom, the dogs snoring lightly at the foot of the bed. Her hair shines pale blue in the moonlight that has filtered through a chink in the curtains.
---------------------------
I knew as soon as I met her that she was the one, it was just a pity I had to get her really drunk in order to marry her but then we had only known each other for about seven hours at that point. It took a lot of greasing palms and one hell of a lot of paperwork but we were married again exactly one month after the first time and everyone turned up. Hell I always seem to get married in little chapels off the main strip in Vegas, it was refreshing to say our vows to each other in front of our friends and family.
Pippa was Jilly’s maid of honour and Richie was my best man, not only cause they’re our closest friends and family but hell, they’re dating each other and it seemed the right thing to do. Especially after Richie threatened to bust my ass if anyone but him got to dance with Pip. They make a great couple, tempestuous and fiery but great together. I’m so glad he’s finally found someone to be happy with.
It was a great day but still feels like a poor substitute for that moment in time when you know you’re going to be with this person, your soul mate, for the rest of your life. Just one moment, one clarity of thought and the rest of the world doesn’t matter. You’re where you’re supposed to be with the person you’re supposed to be with , doing what you’re supposed to be doing and everything else pales in comparison.
-------------------------------
I love watching her sleep. Ya know I am so not a morning person but I’ve woken up every morning since we met just to watch her sleep. It’s peaceful and I can spend my time just drinking her in. My note books that stay by the bed at all times are just full of lyrics about her, most will never see the light of day, even Richie thinks they’re too sappy and he’s the biggest sap going!, but a few may be worked into songs. She’s the most wonderful person I have ever met, she gives me so much and takes so little. She stands behind me ready to catch me if I fall and to be caught in her arms I would risk falling now and again.
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My friends thought I was mad to have married someone I’d just met, especially with all the hassle with immigration that we’d have to go through but I didn’t care.
I remember when she came walking into the restaurant, Richie nudged me and said something about a tall redhead but I only had eyes for the short blonde next to her. We’d gotten to the restaurant a little early when Jilly first walked into my life and lodged in my heart. Objectively, she’s not conventionally beautiful, her nose has a bump on it that detracts from a flawless side profile and when she smiles her mouth opens a little too wide - after working in the entertainment business for 20 odd years I notice these things. It’s sad but true. When the unemployment rate for actors is about 90% at any one time we’re constantly on the look out for imperfections. Everyone does it. From the casting couch to the housewife buying National Enquirer. Everyone looks for the flaws and no one looks at the person. Jilly was the first person, I’m ashamed to say, in whom these imperfections didn’t matter. She’s extremely attractive, beautiful to me, and such a warm and loving person that everyone who’s met her has fallen for her: my band family, the crew, my parents, even my children and they’re the fussiest people I know. Dot’s still reserved but then hell if she wasn’t we’d probably still be married.
------------------------------------
God I wish she’d wake up, so I can hold her and touch her and tell her how much I love her before I show her how much I love her. The past 2 days have been an absolute nightmare for me, god knows what they were like for her.
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My kids chose to stay with their mom after the divorce so it really didn’t matter where Jilly and I moved to. Pip had moved in with Richie, then moved out then back in again, in LA so we decided to spend some time in California before deciding where to put down roots and when she told me she’d seen him I didn’t believe her. We’d only been married for 2 months and I guess I thought it was her guilt over dumping him on the phone that was making her see him everywhere. Even when the phone calls started I still didn’t believe it was him. You know those nuisance calls you get when you pick the phone up and have to wait to be connected to a sales person who is trying to sell you some long distance call saver package from AT & T or Bell.
I didn’t take any notice at first, mainly cause I was in the studio during the day with Rich and the guys and was rarely home before 10pm most nights. I know it sounds like I’ve been leaving my new bride alone but Pippa was over most days. I told Jilly to leave the ansaphone on and if I needed to call her I’d call her mobile. This seemed to do the trick until one night I was home early, as Richie had promised to be home early for Pippa or he was gonna be divorced before he was even married I think were her exact words. Anyway we got 5 calls in a row, just silence and then the faint disconnect sound. I called the police but even as I was explaining the situation it sounded silly. A few random sightings of someone who may have been him plus a few nuisance calls that may or may not have been the telephone calls. The police were sympathetic but explained that as I had no real proof that it was this guy that there was nothing they could do, except sent a car round our area regularly.
----------------------------
Jilly shifts in her sleep, the quilt has slipped sideways, her perfect breasts exposed to the cool night air. Sighing I replace the quilt to keep her warm and she murmurs and smiles, still fast asleep. I know I’ve sung about it but I really would die for this woman, though, hopefully, I’ll never have to.
---------------------------
We changed the phone number and for a while things got better. She wouldn’t jump every time the phone rang and she had her old sparkle back.
Then she started to see him everywhere. Jilly isn’t used to being in the Jovi Family and is more used to going shopping by herself instead of with someone. I tried to get her to take Pippa but it seems that Pip and Rich have another thing in common, both hate waking up before midday, so Jilly would quite often go by herself. As I was usually in the recording studio by 9.30 I didn’t know this. She would be out food shopping, look over at the queue and see him staring at her then when she’d look back there’d be no-one there. I didn’t really know what he looked like as all she had when she’d first come over was a small snapshot in her wallet, I mean her purse. It’s so silly, her wallet is her purse and her purse is her bag. God, the language barrier of those who speak English. There was one time when she asked me whether she should wear pants under her trousers and I just stared at her dumbfounded, wondering how in the name of all things holy she was going to be able to get two pairs of trousers on, then I realised she meant panties. Well in the end she didn’t even get to put her panties on before we had to shower…again.
The phone calls started again when I went into the studio properly with the whole band to start laying down tracks, and had to leave early in the morning and rarely got home before midnight. Some nights not at all. She was scared I know but short of having her in the studio, which would’ve distracted me to no end, there was no way around it, plus we lived in a gated house so she should’ve been safe. A week after I started laying down tracks it seemed that she must have been mistaken as the calls and sightings just stopped. I know the guys were relieved as a few times we’d be in the middle of something crucial and my mobile would go off. After this I started putting it on silent, I know this upset Jilly but I thought she was just being silly, alone in the huge house by herself. I thought she was jumping at shadows.
Until I got that call.
My phone rang in the middle of Richie laying down some guitar tracks and Tico went to grab it. I got there first and went to turn it off. I stopped as I saw who it was from.
“Jon!! Come home, Greg’s outside and he’s trying to get in. Oh Jon I’m so scared, please!” I could hear the terror in her voice.
“Hey honey calm down, what do you mean he’s outside?” I asked, worried.
“I opened the gates for the postman but it was him. I didn’t realise until I opened the front door, I managed to shut it but he’s outside.” her voice quavered with unshed tears.
“Have you called the cops?” I asked, knowing she hadn’t.
“No I wanted to speak to you.”
“Jilly, listen, get off the phone and then call 911, I’m leaving now. Ok?”
The sound of glass breaking. It will haunt me forever. Then Jilly was screaming down the phone before a dull thud then the sound of the phone being placed back on the receiver.
I stood, staring blindly at the dial tone coming from the phone, utterly paralysed with fear. Richie and the guys just looked at me. As quickly as it had come over me it vanished and I raced out of the studio, leaving the guys staring after me. The studio I had chosen to work in was only 10 minutes by car from our house but that day it seemed to take forever. I dialled 911 as I sprinted towards my car, praying no one would see me and try to hold me up. The last thing I needed was any of the paparazzi to get wind of this and follow me.
Finally I reached my car and gunned it into action leaving trailing marks as I screeched out of the car park. All I could think of was Jilly. If he hurt her I would kill him.
The police were already there when I got home, surrounding our once safe home. As I pulled up I noticed a SWAT team which could mean only one thing. Greg had a gun. My heart stopped. I know it did, I was there.
Somehow I managed to find the man in charge and explained who I was. Apparently the real postman had turned up and hearing screaming, had called the cops before I had. All I could do was stand behind the barrier, outside our gates and feel useless. I had been in control of my life since I was about 18 years old and to find I could do nothing when the life of the one person I loved most hung in the balance was almost too much. My Jilly, my love, was trapped inside our house with her ex, who, by al intents, was going to kill them both and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do.
Richie had, at this point, turned up with Pippa and they two stood beside me as the minutes ticked by. I know I was getting on the nerves of the man in charge but I couldn’t help myself, I was more nervous and full of energy than before any show. I felt impotent as I could only watch as someone called through a loud speaker, asking for Greg Edwards, for that was his full name, to put the gun down and hand himself in. The cops had been on the phone to their English counterparts who in turn had contacted Greg’s parents and had discovered that he had suffered from paranoia when he was a child and various other mental illnesses. The pain and violence had always been there, Jilly dumping him had broken the dam that kept them in and he was out for revenge.
Gunshot.
The most heartbreaking sound you could ever hear. I gripped Richie’s arm so tight I bruised him as the cops rushed our house, all thoughts of decorum long gone. I heard a howl of anguish and realised it was me. Tears poured down my face when I saw her being carried out, her arms wrapped tight around a policeman.
Run legs damn you.
I sped, stumbled and limped my way over to her and hugged her for all I was worth. We wept in each others arms, unable to let the other go, even as Greg’s body was carried past us on a mortuary stretcher. Single gunshot wound to the head was the cause of death.
He hadn’t wanted to harm her, not physically anyway. He’d wanted her to know what she had done to him before he’d killed himself in front of her. He was a very mentally sick man but I do feel for him. To be carrying that amount of pain around inside with no outlet for it is no way for anyone to live.
-----------------------------------------
Oh the dogs are awake.
Vinnie, the greyhound, stretches languorously on the end of our kingsized bed, with Eejit, the whippet, stretched out between his legs. Both are rescue dogs and adore both each other and Jilly. Me? They just tolerate me cause Jilly loves me but I think they prefer it when I’m not there. They’ll be wanting to be let out soon. Oh to hell with that, I ain’t leaving her till she’s awake.
Talk of the devil
“Morning wife.”
“Morning husband.” she whispers, mid yawn, “Have the dogs been walked yet?”
“No, I didn’t want to leave until you woke up.” I smile down at her, loving her even more than I did ten minutes ago.
“Well I’m awake now. Jon, I’m fine and I’m going to be fine, so there’s no need to worry. In fact all 3 of us will be fine.”
“All 3?..” confusion takes a hike as realisation puts the boot in.
“Morning Daddy.” she grins, reaching up for a kiss
Friday 20 February 2009
Part One - Jilly's Story
I have one thing to say.
Please Earth, open up and swallow me whole. I have a herd of incontinent buffalo galloping through my brain, leaving unpleasant deposits on my tongue and since when did my teeth grow hair?
Slowly I squint around the room, taking in the mellow apple walls and the rather tacky painting of a sunflower, along with the cheap 1960’s furniture and groan. It all adds up to my being in a motel. I turn over, slowly, wincing as my brain does a bungee jump and splats on the side of my head, yelling ‘Whoopee!’ as it does.
There’s someone in the bed with me.
Now I know for a fact that it’s not Pippa. Pippa is my best friend and confidante and partner in crime, she came over with me for this 4 day whirlwind tour of LA and besides, the body in the bed with me is most definitely not female.
He stirs in his sleep and turns over. Oh my god, it’s Jon Bon fucking Jovi! I’m in bed with one of the hottest men in the whole goddamned universe and I don’t remember how I got here. I look at him, taking in the high sculptured cheekbones, the full lips and wickedly sexy eyes, all softened by sleep. His tousled blonde mane is the very definition of bedhead. I can see a hint of chest hair growing back, curly and soft and I stop myself from reaching out to touch it to see if he’s real and this isn’t just a dream that the powers that be have visited on me.
He huffs in his sleep and pushes against the quilt, pushing it downwards. Eeek! I look under the quilt at myself. Totally naked. I try to hang on to an edge of the quilt to cover myself as I watch his body slowly being uncovered. The taut muscles on his chest, the faint outline of a six pack on his stomach, the soft downy hair leading to his groin…HIS GROIN!! Oh my god! I’m about to see Jon Bon Jovi naked. And, judging by the clothing dotted around the room, not for the first time but it’ll be the first time I’ll be able to remember. I lie and watch him, overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of peace.
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All of my life I’ve been in a state of panic. Panic that my job wasn’t the right one, panic that the guy I was with wasn’t Mr Right but too scared to leave in case I was left on the proverbial shelf. At 30 your body clock hasn’t quite stopped but starts ticking loudly enough to let you know that the battery’s on the way out with no hope of a replacement. Like a molded plug on a kettle, you can’t change the fuse.
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I’m mesmerised as the blue material glides slowly over him, as if he knows I’m watching and is prolonging the show to tease me mercilessly. My breathing is getting shallower as my memory and body slowly begin to respond.
------------------------------
I can remember how excited I was when I found out that I was the “Meet one of Bon Jovi” competition winner. I have never won a competition before in my life and only entered in on their website on a whim. You can imagine my shock when a couple of months later I get this email telling me, little old Jilly Lewis, that I was the winner and that my tickets would be posted soon for myself and a guest to come to LA/ Las Vegas depending on their schedule, to meet one of them for dinner and then to see them in concert.
Pippa was the first person I thought of as she’s been a fan almost as long as I have and the squeal on the other end of the phone told me she was just as excited as I was. She’s always been a Richie fan, a darksider, but me? It was always Jon for me. Every time. I cried when he married Dorothea in '89, kissed my posters and told myself it would be okay, he’d soon realise I was alive and come and get me. The fact that I was about 12 at the time didn’t really come into it. I’m not sure what it was about him that captivated me at such an early age, I mean puberty hadn’t even hit, though it was lurking around the corner like some nasty stalker, waiting until I was preoccupied with something else before striking in the most inopportune place and time. Pippa had been with me then as I sobbed in her arms. I was there for her when Richie married Heather. Likewise we were cheering for each other when both couples got divorced.
I don’t remember much of the flight over, just that Pip was as nervous and excited as I was as we sat, drinking Champagne, in the Business Class lounge waiting to board the plane and that we carried on drinking the whole way over the Atlantic.
--------------------------
Looking around the motel room, I realise that maybe, just maybe, alcohol and I should part ways permanently.
----------------------------
The hotel we were in was lovely, upmarket but not second mortgage expensive, but then what the hell did we care? We weren’t paying for it!
We sat in the cool reception waiting for Chrissie to show up to guide us around. The meet and greet dinner was scheduled for our second day but the band had sent along one of their PR people to take care of us for our first day. We spent the whole day traipsing around LA, window shopping in Rodeo Drive and marvelling at the huge houses in Beverly Hills. Our second day was spent on the beach in Venice before we were to be picked up and escorted to a private jet for the short trip to Vegas,
Vegas baby! What can I say ‘bout Vegas that hasn’t already been said? Nothing, so I shan’t.
----------------------------------
Jon stirs in his sleep, the quilt is going to completely expose him. I hold my breath as…he turns over, giving me a good view of his ass. Even so, it’s enough to get my juices flowing…
----------------------------------
‘I can’t believe I’m sitting opposite Jon Bon Jovi and he’s flirting with me.’
My brain went into automatic pilot as we chatted and flirted our way through starter, dinner, dessert and coffee. He had been welcoming and friendly as we were introduced at the start of the meal. He had brought Richie with him who had taken up all of Pip’s concentration, so I was really only left with Jon to talk to. Yeah like that was ever going to be a hard ship!
Pip was having the best time of her life, or so it seemed as she flirted and giggled all the way through the meal, whispering and occasionally holding hands with Richie, but then I wasn’t paying that much attention, I was flirting with Jon Bon Jovi! There was a strange chemistry between us, sexual..yes, but almost as if we had come home only to no home either one of us knew. We also found we had the ability to communicate without words. Usually when one of us was about to dare the other to do something not quite socially correct. Pippa had been replaced as my partner in crime, at least for that night.
His smooth, hint of whisky, voice rolled over me as he told me how he came to be an actor as well as a musician.
“Ya know music will always be my first love but sometimes you need something different. Like you’re not getting the stimulation you used to get so you try something else. That’s how it was. I did a bit part in Young Guns and loved it. I mean doing our videos has always been acting of a sorts so it was quite easy to make the transition into full time acting. Yeah, I took a coupla lessons. I mean who doesn’t when they’re starting off but I’m really proud of my achievements. But I decided that the pull that I get from music is more important to me and hopefully we’ll be around, as a band, for a long time.”
He was totally disarmingly refreshing and honest. Direct too, staring at me with that mega watt smile and those electric baby blues of his, his blonde mane framing his leonine face perfectly.
“I think the public will want you around for a few more years. I know I do.” the words slipped out without me realising.
“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” he replied, stroking my hand with his forefinger.
I remember that as this point we went on to a bar, I say we, I mean Jon and I as Pip and Richie ha disappeared off God knows where, and besides at that point I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the fact that I was with Jon going for a drink. I could feel something akin to love for him, something sudden and swift almost like I’d wrenched the arrow from Cupid and impaled myself upon it. I was wild and free, for the first time in years, and up for anything.
Many drinks later…
“Go on! Knock his hat off.” I whispered to Jon as we stood outside on the mezzanine balcony. A rather large man wearing a 10 gallon hat was outside on the ground level but if you bent down and put your arm through the iron bars you could just about reach…
Wham! The hat went flying, Jon stood up quickly and turned to face me, nonchalantly leaning on the railings. He had a shit eating grin on his face, his eyes sparkling. The score on the door was 3 hats to me but 8 to him. The man turned to look up just as Jon dared to look down. Their eyes met and we knew we were in trouble. He grabbed my hand, drinks flying and pulled through the bar, down the stairs and into the casino. I remember lots of laughter and smiles and promises of things to come.
“My god Jon, that was just so funny!” I said, as I managed to stop laughing, hanging onto his muscular arm for dear life.
I hadn’t had so much fun for ages. It was like playing knock down ginger, only using people instead of doors.
“You and me are dangerous together.” he laughed, “I Haven’t had so much fun in ages.” he said, mirroring my feelings, his wicked blue eyes glinting dangerously, his cheeks flushed
We made our way to the bar in the middle of the casino, he held onto my hand tightly as if to never let me go. My common sense, which at this point had been trying to get a foot in the door of reckless abandon, gave up and went away sulking.
More drinks followed.
What had happened next was a whirlwind of colours, the sounds of quarters chinking in and out of slot machines, bundles of cash being exchanged for plastic, large bundles of plastic being exchanged back for larger bundles of cash. Bright lights whirled around us as if we were the only couple in the world. Jon spent the evening with his arm around my shoulders, gently nuzzling my neck, at times kissing and stroking my hair. We were a sight to see: one tall with short blonde hair, one short with long blonde hair. Both unnaturally blonde, arms wrapped around each other, hungry for the other yet unwilling to give in, wanting the moment to be anticipated just a little longer.
My body felt liquid, as if my bones had melted every time he touched me.
The feeling inside was as fiery as my skin that burned with his touch. I knew I had the same effect on him, feeling it as he stood behind me, subtly at first then more pressing.
I groan as the memory of an alleyway filters into my brain, along with vague memories of being lifted into the air and impaled as well as getting down on my knees. God how could I? To have sex with someone I’ve just met and in an alleyway of all places, even if the memories are tinged with hot and heavy breathing and sweaty bodies molding together. I feel flushed as the memories of the pleasure rushes over me.
I remember he said he was in love with me and me saying it was mutual, but I’m not really sure at this point in time whether I dreamt that part….
A bright white light pierces my memory, with people throwing things at us as we ran off into the night, giggling like kids on a summer vacation.
----------------------------
Jon opens his eyes and, blinking away sleep, turns over. I look at him, my face flushed with lust and memories. He reaches for me and I can feel my skin burst into flames. What he does to me… just the nearness of him and I can’t breath. He nuzzles into the smooth silky skin of my neck, murmuring as he does, in that sexy slow drawl of his, words like love and forever. It makes me smile, he’s echoing what I’m feeling. Maybe he’s feeling it too and not just saying it for effect. I’m ready for him, always ready for him. Defcon 3 - permanent state of alertness, or maybe that should be Defcum 3...
He penetrates me easily, a good fit. I gasp as does he at the rightness of it. He moves against me, his hair flopping into his face, he doesn’t care about anything but being inside me right now. We move in unison, the age old dance, our bodies bathed in sweat, our fluids combining, bodies mingling until we’re not sure what’s mine and what’s his. I can feel the sweetness brewing from deep inside me, that pleasure pain that sends me over the top. It’s getting harder to breath now. A cry rings out in the still morning air, I realise it’s me crying out his name. His head rears back as he feels me tighten and envelop him in my hot, wet flesh. He roars ferally as we both release at the same time.
He falls down atop me, utterly exhausted. I croon into his hair, whispering sweet nothings as my body slowly calms down and the room begins to come into focus once more. I am totally and deeply head over heels in love with this man. I have known him for less than 24 hours but I know deep inside we have known each other forever.
I am contemplating the meaning of soul mates when sunlight glints. I look closer at his left hand. A wedding ring! Why didn’t I notice that last night?
Common sense makes a comeback, rather sheepishly and notes that I couldn’t remember my name last night let alone to check for wedding rings.
I put my hands over my face to hide my shame and feel something cool and alien. I look down at the little band of gold nestled snug on the thirs finger of my left hand and stare stupidly at it.
“Morning wife.” Jon says, smiling at me, awake in every sense of the word
“Morning h..husband.” I stammer, my whole being not quite able to take in the fact that I am apparently Mrs Jilly Bongiovi. What the fuck? When? How? Why? Take that last one back - stupid question.
He reaches for me again, my skin hot under his touch. I give in to him at once, no thought of pulling back. As he murmurs silly things in my ear, such as how many children we’ll have and the big party we’ll have to give to celebrate this wedding, all I can think of is
‘What am I going to tell my boyfriend?’
Please Earth, open up and swallow me whole. I have a herd of incontinent buffalo galloping through my brain, leaving unpleasant deposits on my tongue and since when did my teeth grow hair?
Slowly I squint around the room, taking in the mellow apple walls and the rather tacky painting of a sunflower, along with the cheap 1960’s furniture and groan. It all adds up to my being in a motel. I turn over, slowly, wincing as my brain does a bungee jump and splats on the side of my head, yelling ‘Whoopee!’ as it does.
There’s someone in the bed with me.
Now I know for a fact that it’s not Pippa. Pippa is my best friend and confidante and partner in crime, she came over with me for this 4 day whirlwind tour of LA and besides, the body in the bed with me is most definitely not female.
He stirs in his sleep and turns over. Oh my god, it’s Jon Bon fucking Jovi! I’m in bed with one of the hottest men in the whole goddamned universe and I don’t remember how I got here. I look at him, taking in the high sculptured cheekbones, the full lips and wickedly sexy eyes, all softened by sleep. His tousled blonde mane is the very definition of bedhead. I can see a hint of chest hair growing back, curly and soft and I stop myself from reaching out to touch it to see if he’s real and this isn’t just a dream that the powers that be have visited on me.
He huffs in his sleep and pushes against the quilt, pushing it downwards. Eeek! I look under the quilt at myself. Totally naked. I try to hang on to an edge of the quilt to cover myself as I watch his body slowly being uncovered. The taut muscles on his chest, the faint outline of a six pack on his stomach, the soft downy hair leading to his groin…HIS GROIN!! Oh my god! I’m about to see Jon Bon Jovi naked. And, judging by the clothing dotted around the room, not for the first time but it’ll be the first time I’ll be able to remember. I lie and watch him, overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of peace.
-----------------------------
All of my life I’ve been in a state of panic. Panic that my job wasn’t the right one, panic that the guy I was with wasn’t Mr Right but too scared to leave in case I was left on the proverbial shelf. At 30 your body clock hasn’t quite stopped but starts ticking loudly enough to let you know that the battery’s on the way out with no hope of a replacement. Like a molded plug on a kettle, you can’t change the fuse.
------------------------------
I’m mesmerised as the blue material glides slowly over him, as if he knows I’m watching and is prolonging the show to tease me mercilessly. My breathing is getting shallower as my memory and body slowly begin to respond.
------------------------------
I can remember how excited I was when I found out that I was the “Meet one of Bon Jovi” competition winner. I have never won a competition before in my life and only entered in on their website on a whim. You can imagine my shock when a couple of months later I get this email telling me, little old Jilly Lewis, that I was the winner and that my tickets would be posted soon for myself and a guest to come to LA/ Las Vegas depending on their schedule, to meet one of them for dinner and then to see them in concert.
Pippa was the first person I thought of as she’s been a fan almost as long as I have and the squeal on the other end of the phone told me she was just as excited as I was. She’s always been a Richie fan, a darksider, but me? It was always Jon for me. Every time. I cried when he married Dorothea in '89, kissed my posters and told myself it would be okay, he’d soon realise I was alive and come and get me. The fact that I was about 12 at the time didn’t really come into it. I’m not sure what it was about him that captivated me at such an early age, I mean puberty hadn’t even hit, though it was lurking around the corner like some nasty stalker, waiting until I was preoccupied with something else before striking in the most inopportune place and time. Pippa had been with me then as I sobbed in her arms. I was there for her when Richie married Heather. Likewise we were cheering for each other when both couples got divorced.
I don’t remember much of the flight over, just that Pip was as nervous and excited as I was as we sat, drinking Champagne, in the Business Class lounge waiting to board the plane and that we carried on drinking the whole way over the Atlantic.
--------------------------
Looking around the motel room, I realise that maybe, just maybe, alcohol and I should part ways permanently.
----------------------------
The hotel we were in was lovely, upmarket but not second mortgage expensive, but then what the hell did we care? We weren’t paying for it!
We sat in the cool reception waiting for Chrissie to show up to guide us around. The meet and greet dinner was scheduled for our second day but the band had sent along one of their PR people to take care of us for our first day. We spent the whole day traipsing around LA, window shopping in Rodeo Drive and marvelling at the huge houses in Beverly Hills. Our second day was spent on the beach in Venice before we were to be picked up and escorted to a private jet for the short trip to Vegas,
Vegas baby! What can I say ‘bout Vegas that hasn’t already been said? Nothing, so I shan’t.
----------------------------------
Jon stirs in his sleep, the quilt is going to completely expose him. I hold my breath as…he turns over, giving me a good view of his ass. Even so, it’s enough to get my juices flowing…
----------------------------------
‘I can’t believe I’m sitting opposite Jon Bon Jovi and he’s flirting with me.’
My brain went into automatic pilot as we chatted and flirted our way through starter, dinner, dessert and coffee. He had been welcoming and friendly as we were introduced at the start of the meal. He had brought Richie with him who had taken up all of Pip’s concentration, so I was really only left with Jon to talk to. Yeah like that was ever going to be a hard ship!
Pip was having the best time of her life, or so it seemed as she flirted and giggled all the way through the meal, whispering and occasionally holding hands with Richie, but then I wasn’t paying that much attention, I was flirting with Jon Bon Jovi! There was a strange chemistry between us, sexual..yes, but almost as if we had come home only to no home either one of us knew. We also found we had the ability to communicate without words. Usually when one of us was about to dare the other to do something not quite socially correct. Pippa had been replaced as my partner in crime, at least for that night.
His smooth, hint of whisky, voice rolled over me as he told me how he came to be an actor as well as a musician.
“Ya know music will always be my first love but sometimes you need something different. Like you’re not getting the stimulation you used to get so you try something else. That’s how it was. I did a bit part in Young Guns and loved it. I mean doing our videos has always been acting of a sorts so it was quite easy to make the transition into full time acting. Yeah, I took a coupla lessons. I mean who doesn’t when they’re starting off but I’m really proud of my achievements. But I decided that the pull that I get from music is more important to me and hopefully we’ll be around, as a band, for a long time.”
He was totally disarmingly refreshing and honest. Direct too, staring at me with that mega watt smile and those electric baby blues of his, his blonde mane framing his leonine face perfectly.
“I think the public will want you around for a few more years. I know I do.” the words slipped out without me realising.
“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” he replied, stroking my hand with his forefinger.
I remember that as this point we went on to a bar, I say we, I mean Jon and I as Pip and Richie ha disappeared off God knows where, and besides at that point I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the fact that I was with Jon going for a drink. I could feel something akin to love for him, something sudden and swift almost like I’d wrenched the arrow from Cupid and impaled myself upon it. I was wild and free, for the first time in years, and up for anything.
Many drinks later…
“Go on! Knock his hat off.” I whispered to Jon as we stood outside on the mezzanine balcony. A rather large man wearing a 10 gallon hat was outside on the ground level but if you bent down and put your arm through the iron bars you could just about reach…
Wham! The hat went flying, Jon stood up quickly and turned to face me, nonchalantly leaning on the railings. He had a shit eating grin on his face, his eyes sparkling. The score on the door was 3 hats to me but 8 to him. The man turned to look up just as Jon dared to look down. Their eyes met and we knew we were in trouble. He grabbed my hand, drinks flying and pulled through the bar, down the stairs and into the casino. I remember lots of laughter and smiles and promises of things to come.
“My god Jon, that was just so funny!” I said, as I managed to stop laughing, hanging onto his muscular arm for dear life.
I hadn’t had so much fun for ages. It was like playing knock down ginger, only using people instead of doors.
“You and me are dangerous together.” he laughed, “I Haven’t had so much fun in ages.” he said, mirroring my feelings, his wicked blue eyes glinting dangerously, his cheeks flushed
We made our way to the bar in the middle of the casino, he held onto my hand tightly as if to never let me go. My common sense, which at this point had been trying to get a foot in the door of reckless abandon, gave up and went away sulking.
More drinks followed.
What had happened next was a whirlwind of colours, the sounds of quarters chinking in and out of slot machines, bundles of cash being exchanged for plastic, large bundles of plastic being exchanged back for larger bundles of cash. Bright lights whirled around us as if we were the only couple in the world. Jon spent the evening with his arm around my shoulders, gently nuzzling my neck, at times kissing and stroking my hair. We were a sight to see: one tall with short blonde hair, one short with long blonde hair. Both unnaturally blonde, arms wrapped around each other, hungry for the other yet unwilling to give in, wanting the moment to be anticipated just a little longer.
My body felt liquid, as if my bones had melted every time he touched me.
The feeling inside was as fiery as my skin that burned with his touch. I knew I had the same effect on him, feeling it as he stood behind me, subtly at first then more pressing.
I groan as the memory of an alleyway filters into my brain, along with vague memories of being lifted into the air and impaled as well as getting down on my knees. God how could I? To have sex with someone I’ve just met and in an alleyway of all places, even if the memories are tinged with hot and heavy breathing and sweaty bodies molding together. I feel flushed as the memories of the pleasure rushes over me.
I remember he said he was in love with me and me saying it was mutual, but I’m not really sure at this point in time whether I dreamt that part….
A bright white light pierces my memory, with people throwing things at us as we ran off into the night, giggling like kids on a summer vacation.
----------------------------
Jon opens his eyes and, blinking away sleep, turns over. I look at him, my face flushed with lust and memories. He reaches for me and I can feel my skin burst into flames. What he does to me… just the nearness of him and I can’t breath. He nuzzles into the smooth silky skin of my neck, murmuring as he does, in that sexy slow drawl of his, words like love and forever. It makes me smile, he’s echoing what I’m feeling. Maybe he’s feeling it too and not just saying it for effect. I’m ready for him, always ready for him. Defcon 3 - permanent state of alertness, or maybe that should be Defcum 3...
He penetrates me easily, a good fit. I gasp as does he at the rightness of it. He moves against me, his hair flopping into his face, he doesn’t care about anything but being inside me right now. We move in unison, the age old dance, our bodies bathed in sweat, our fluids combining, bodies mingling until we’re not sure what’s mine and what’s his. I can feel the sweetness brewing from deep inside me, that pleasure pain that sends me over the top. It’s getting harder to breath now. A cry rings out in the still morning air, I realise it’s me crying out his name. His head rears back as he feels me tighten and envelop him in my hot, wet flesh. He roars ferally as we both release at the same time.
He falls down atop me, utterly exhausted. I croon into his hair, whispering sweet nothings as my body slowly calms down and the room begins to come into focus once more. I am totally and deeply head over heels in love with this man. I have known him for less than 24 hours but I know deep inside we have known each other forever.
I am contemplating the meaning of soul mates when sunlight glints. I look closer at his left hand. A wedding ring! Why didn’t I notice that last night?
Common sense makes a comeback, rather sheepishly and notes that I couldn’t remember my name last night let alone to check for wedding rings.
I put my hands over my face to hide my shame and feel something cool and alien. I look down at the little band of gold nestled snug on the thirs finger of my left hand and stare stupidly at it.
“Morning wife.” Jon says, smiling at me, awake in every sense of the word
“Morning h..husband.” I stammer, my whole being not quite able to take in the fact that I am apparently Mrs Jilly Bongiovi. What the fuck? When? How? Why? Take that last one back - stupid question.
He reaches for me again, my skin hot under his touch. I give in to him at once, no thought of pulling back. As he murmurs silly things in my ear, such as how many children we’ll have and the big party we’ll have to give to celebrate this wedding, all I can think of is
‘What am I going to tell my boyfriend?’
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