Davy's on the Road Again

Davy's On The Road Again, Chapter 10

The following story is fiction. Sure, some of it may seem real but that's because it's based upon true events and episodes in the life of your humble narrator. It involves all variations of sex between men and women, between women and women, between men and mem and in all combinations thereof. The story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any personal knowledge about their private lives. There are lyrics to songs that add not only tribute to the songwriters but add color and atmosphere to the story. Some of the characters are real people whose names have not been changed. They are there to advance the story and expand your imagination. I hope you enjoy the telling and the tale.

I wrote this story several years ago and published it on another site. This version is updated at corrected and in some ways is different from the original story. Send your comments to oldhippie1949@gmail.com.

And remember, Nifty.org needs your donations to keep this site running, http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. Thank you. --------------------------------------------------

I won't bore you with all the business shit but at one o'clock, Jimmy pulled up with Graham. The Warner's guy showed up a half hour later. We sat in the bus and shot the shit about last night's benefit. Jimmy was kind enough to bring some deli from Greenblatt's and a cold case of Landshark. Graham amplified his ideas about the summer tour. Jimmy asked if he could do a couple of dates. Smoking a joint, we blue-skied about it. Amy puttered around for a while doing some housekeeping chores. It was difficult for us to stay focused as she moved around the bus in her little daisy dukes and her t-shirt. Half of her sweet butt hung out and every time she leaned over, her nipples swayed and poked the shirt. Oh, my.

Ideas flew around. Graham said that he and Crosby and Browne had passed some ideas around, too. They were calling it "The Breadbasket Tour" and the idea was to have a loose amalgam of artists raise money for local food pantries in major cities around the country. I suggested that we could play a couple of big outdoor festivals like Bonnaroo and pass buckets around raising money for local outlets. Also, we could play a couple of big arenas like the Garden or The Meadowlands in New York and in some select cities, too. Jimmy brought up some corporate sponsors and then video rights. I gave him the names of my people in New York and he said he'd have his people do all the heavy lifting.

"Here's where we play Warner's," he said. "We offer them the film and video rights in exchange for freedom from whatever contracts they claim to still hold on our rights. I know we could fight them in court and win but it's so much easier for them to take the carrot." The Warner's man nodded.

"That would be sweet," I added. "I don't want anymore deals from these guys. I'd rather sell my stuff online - through a web site, the iTunes Store or Spotify in Europe. And anyway, Danny is eager to take them on. Whatever happens with me will be a bellwether for you. If I can break away from them, then you and everyone else will be able to follow suit. I don't mind being the first one out the door."

And that's pretty much how our meeting went. It seemed too easy but I admired Jimmy's knowledge and ability to speak their language. Not for nothing was this guy a multimedia success but he made me uneasy. I thought that the Warner's suit was somewhat of a sleazebag. He offered us a $100,000 dollar option right there on the spot but Jimmy and Graham waved him off saying that it was premature. After he drove off, we smoked another one and tossed some names around for the shows. We'd pull big name locals to join us in their areas to help hype the venture, like JT in Massachusetts, Billy in New York, and like that. It sounded like a plan. I asked them about the option offer and Graham pointed out that our presentation was simply a ruse to make him salivate and it worked. Now we could envision a bidding war start. Jimmy suggested that when the time came, several studios would be tripping over themselves and raising the ante considerably. We left the bus to walk Santo but it was too difficult to keep the conversation going as we were recognized and too busy signing autographs. We quickly headed back and shaking hands, we parted. As they were getting into Jimmy's car, he pulled me aside.

"Davy, it's good to have you back in the game. Especially now that we can do it our way. When I heard you at the Woody Creek, I saw that you still had that instant rapport and I knew this could be good thing. And don't worry about your publishing rights either, that will all work out in your favor. They have nothing on you anymore and it will all revert to you, even the movie stuff. I'll call you in the next couple of days."

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. The last thing I wanted to do was get involved in a lawsuit. Even though I knew I'd win, I hate to pay litigators. Amy was all smiles when I sat down at the table.

"Davy, you are on one fucking roll, you know that?"

"Pardon me, partner, but that should be 'we'...we rock, do you know that? Wanna take a drive?"

We put Santo into the car and dropped the top. For the next couple of hours, we just drove around, taking in the sights. So many places brought back fond memories; The Chateau Marmont where the parties were demonic, Wilshire and Doheny where I once bumped into Groucho Marx and his caregiver, Erin (Great story: I'm crossing the street and I see Groucho and Erin coming across from the other way. In the middle of the street, I stop to shake his hand and say "Groucho, it's great to see you. You're one of my heroes!" He looks at me, takes the cigar from his mouth and says, "Keep moving, kid, or we'll all get killed!"), Laurel Canyon where Lowell George and I flew his little model planes while stoked on acid (He sliced up his hand on one of the propellers that day and couldn't make it to the studio to cut the solo on "Cold, Cold, Cold" so they got Bonnie Raitt and Ry Cooder to record it instead, Lowell was so incensed, he wrapped up his hand, taped a slide onto it, drove down to the studio and recorded it anyway while blood dripped down his arm, onto the guitar and onto the floor. That solo is still one of my favorites!)...such memories. We drove through Topanga where Phil Spector once told me he'd make me a star. Thanks anyway, Phil. Driving through that area, I avoided the ranch where the Manson family took up residence. I headed up toward Point Mugu and then south, stopping a few times to take in the Pacific. It was a relaxing little excursion.

Back in the bus, I polished off the rest of my pastrami on rye. Amy said she had some lyrics she wanted me to look at.

"This has been running through my head for days. Maybe you can help me polish it," and she began to read to me.

"I'm hearing birds cry to me as they fly by, In formation, they pass and they wave goodbye, I'm alone with you somewhere up in the sky, It's where I want to be - with my guy."

"What do you think? Where do I want to go with this?"

"It's a good chorus. What is the story you want to tell?"

"I want to try to express - politely - what it feels like when we make love. I want to get that 'floating in the clouds' message across."

"Okay...maybe we could make it more universal...make the verses non-specific and more abstract. Maybe a verse could start with 'In a place above the tree line where the air is pure and clean...the ground below is so far away, blending into green...somewhere in a special place where everything is serene...there is no place better than in your love and I think you know what I mean.' Maybe that's too moon-june-spoon but it might work. It's always better to speak in your own voice and keep it simple. It makes the listener get it right away."

"Uh-huh, I see that. I wrote all that down and I'll play with it. Thanks for the tips. I want to work on this alone. I want to see if I can express myself this way."

"That's a wonderful goal. Here's another tip. If you are stuck and don't know where the story is going, look in my rhyming dictionary, you might see a word that spurs you on. You'd be surprised at how quickly it will help to finish your thought and resolve the line."

"Ok, I will. In fact, that's a good idea. I seem to look at this as though it was a crossword puzzle and not a story."

"It has to be a story. You have to tell a story or you will lose the listener. It has to be somewhat linear, too. It starts and it ends. Everything gets resolved."

"Cool. I'm inspired now." She curled up in the couch and began to write. I let her alone and rolled on the floor with Santo. After a bit of this, I gave him his favorite beef jerky treat (as it is not fit for human consumption) and I went back to my computer to check out more videos from the benefit. I noted that the videos seemed to be in high-def so the photographer must have been using the latest cell phone or pocket camera. Well, that figures, this being L.A. I also noted that all the videos came from one person because the angle was the same on all of them. He must have been busy all night. Finally, I was glad to see that the videos that included me were getting a lot of hits. I know how vain that must sound but I was not thinking of myself so much as my renewed marketing possibilities. Also, in the back of my mind, I'm thinking about putting up a web page, a facebook page, a MySpace page and maybe even Tweeting. Or maybe not. Too distracting.

Looking upon all the videos, I really liked all the artists sets. Dylan especially looked at the top of his game. Ronstadt sounded sweet and I loved the warm sound the band provided. The video of "Stretching Out" included my introduction and Jimmy looked and sounded terrific. It hardly surprised me that whenever Amy appeared, she stole the scene and what could be better than that? Taken as a whole, it was a great bunch of videos and I hoped they would become viral in a short amount of time. YouTube certainly seemed like an excellent way to spread the word in this modern age. Where you used to need an expensive public relations firm to twist the arms of TV and print execs, now you throw it up on YouTube for nothing and see what happens. It's all about luck anyway.

Amy stopped writing and waved to me so I pulled off my headphones. "You hungry?"

"No, not really. I'm good. I just finished the pastrami sandwich. I was just watching the videos and baby, you are the bee's knees."

"Aw, you're just saying that. You lookin' to get laid?"

I laughed. "I don't have to look far. Hey, what's the dress code for tonight?"

"Deb said to dress very casually - jeans and sneakers. Deb also requested that we bring Santo to keep their dog company."

"Oh, good, he'll enjoy that. I'm not really in the mood to get dressed up, so that's good news, too. I want to be dressed up to get messed up."

Now it was her turn to laugh. "I know what you mean. I'm feeling sexy so I hope you don't mind if I dress a little provocatively."

"Mind? How could I mind? You just want George and Jack to drool all over you again." She turned red and I knew I was on target. Why shouldn't she want that? It's every girl's dream. I stood up, walked to the front of the bus and stared out at the ocean.

"Amy, come here quick!"

"What is it?" she said as she hopped up.

There in the Pacific, not too far off shore, was a school of dolphins playfully breaching and diving.

"Wow! I've never seen that before, Davy. Let's get closer!" I leashed Santo and we ran out to the shoreline. There must have been a few dozen dolphins arcing through the water. The sunlight played and bounced off their skin.

"Look at how graceful they are and they all seem to be smiling." There were several dozen people watching the scene. Many were snapping pictures but not us. We were transfixed. Even Santo sat still and watched. After a while, they turned west toward the horizon and disappeared. Saying nothing, we held hands and walked north along the beach. The seaside homes perched over the water all seemed so precarious but you knew they weren't. At least, you hoped they weren't.

"Wouldn't you love one of those, Davy?"

"Sure...but none of these houses have any property. They all seem to be on top of each other. I'd rather have land and view and privacy. I liked the views I used to see in East Hampton. Different oceans, different styles, same stupidly exorbitant prices."

"Yes, I think you're right. I think I'd rather have land and privacy, too. Still, if I ever wanted a beach house, this could work."

We turned and started to walk back. Amy asked if I would give her a massage. She said that she felt a little muscle-bound and said that it was from the inner tension she experienced the night before. "I didn't realize just how keyed up I was until I got out of bed this morning. Don't you feel a little sore today?"

"No, hon, I got over that years ago. When it's fun and not work, it's easy. It's part of my routine. When the spotlight hits or when the guitar gets strapped on or when the mic is live, I become 'Davy Harper - Performer' and I fall into that role without even thinking."

"I don't get that sense...that is, that you change persona. You seem so natural, So 'Davy' all the time."

"That's nice to hear. It's just a matter of switching to the other side of your brain and I suppose it's become a natural thing for me. But that's really nice to hear because, many years ago, I decided that I was going to be the same 'me' all the time. I didn't want to become affected. There are too many of those people around already. And, it is so much less stressful."

We reached the bus and Santo instantly flopped down in his new favorite place and fell asleep. I stripped the bed and threw a fresh sheet over it. I closed the shades and I turned on some gentle sitar ragas. I asked Amy to lay on her stomach and relax for a few minutes. While she quietly lay, I warmed up some scented body lotion. By the time I returned she was relaxed and buns-up beautiful. I started at her feet and with whatever shiatsu and deep tissue knowledge I had, I gave her a firm massage. She let out little sounds of pleasure. I moved up her legs and then to her arms. I worked on her shoulders and buttocks with a strong, steady motion. As I worked on her shoulders, her breathing was deep and steady and I realized that she was in a deep sleep. I tiptoed out and closed the door. Back in the salon, I stretched out in the recliner and turned on the television. I flipped around until I found a CSI rerun. I don't remember what it was about because I fell asleep, too.

The phone woke us. "You two coming or what?" It was Mark and we were late. I apologized and told him that we'd fallen asleep. I said we'd be over in a little while. He gave me directions and told me to hurry up. I asked if we could bring anything and he replied, "Your dog, your axe and your ass. Now get a move on!" Amy walked out of the bedroom stretching and yawning.

"That was about the best nap I think I've ever had. I feel refreshed. Who was that?"

"It was Mark and we're already fashionably late. Let's dress and get out of here."

"Okay. Give me a few minutes in the bathroom and we'll go."

I got dressed in my favorite outfit: jeans and sneakers, a black t-shirt underneath a battered light blue work shirt. No underwear. Amy came out of the bathroom and approved. She'd already put on her makeup and it took her no time to dress either. She wore jeans and sneakers, too, a dark red cotton top over a lacy red bra. The v-neck of her blouse plunged into her cleavage and she looked as sexy as I've seen her. Each time she bent over, I could see down her shirt and glimpse those perfect melons. I told her so and she preened, smiling. Her jeans seemed poured on and I took a firm grasp of her butt.

"Save it, stud. Let's go."

I grabbed the guitar and threw it into the Bentley. Santo found his spot in the back seat and before you could say, "boo!" we were winding around Laurel Canyon toward their house on Beech Knoll Road. As we pulled up, a security guard checked off our names and a valet took the car. The house sat on a ridge with a spectacular view of the canyon facing southeast in the direction of West Hollywood. As we were so late, the party was in full swing when we entered.

"Hello, Sleepyheads," said Deb as she took our hands and led us through the house and onto the patio. Waiters were serving little hot dogs, slider hamburgers, wraps and burritos. Santo was introduced to a couple of dogs, Marion and Orson. He seemed nonplussed. He was more interested in the hot dogs and hamburgers. I took him off the leash knowing that we would never be too far from me and he walked around looking at the ground for crumbs. Mark was at the side of the rectangular pool which was lit by lots of floating candles. He was busy talking to someone as I approached.

"Davy! Nice of you to wake up and join us!" I shrugged and apologized. "Davy, do you know Mark Harmon? Mark, Davy." We shook hands and Harmon complimented me on my set at the benefit. Mark took my guitar from me and set it down by a bunch of other cases. A waiter came by with cold beer and tequila shots. Mark scooped up three shots but I passed telling him, "Not yet."

"Come on, Davy, it will take the sleep out of your eyes. One shot...to us!"

"Ok, Mark, twist my arm! Here's to everything you wish yourself."

We drank our shots and I sipped my beer. Amy was on the other side of the pool talking to Deb and Courtney Cox. "Let me introduce you around," said Mark.

I exchanged pleasantries with all sorts of icons from the entertainment industry. A photographer who seemed to hang around the periphery took several pictures most of which I knew would land on TMZ and ET. Eventually, we made our way around the pool toward our partners. Amy pulled me aside and said, "Can you believe that we're at a real Hollywood party? This is so exciting. I was talking to Kevin Costner's wife and, get this, we went to high school together! What a small world!"

"Speaking of being a small world, there's Judd Apatow. He grew up with my daughter, Emma, in Syosset, Long Island." We walked over to say hello and Judd recognized me right away. He was in conversation with Shia LaBoeuf and Russell Brand. Someone handed me a joint as I approached. Judd threw his hand out, "Mr. Harper! How are you. I haven't seen you in years!" He introduced me around telling them that I was the first celebrity he ever knew. Natalie Portman rushed over asking if she could join the reunion. Natalie was also from the old neighborhood and we all had a happy time regaling stories, some of which I never knew. Natalie said that she bumped into Emily a few months ago in New York City and that she looked great. Judd asked me to say hello to Emma and to ask her to call him.

He also gave me a wonderful compliment. "You were just amazing last night. It reminded me of a day when I was at your house and you were playing guitar and singing..."

"Wasn't that the Sweet Sixteen party," Nats asked Judd.

"Yeah, maybe it was. That was a good party. Last night, I felt that you were singing in your living room again. You seemed so casual."

"Yes, that was fun. But, to be honest, I was in really in paradise playing with my idols. A lot of last night was a big blur to me."

Amy asked them about what I was like when they were growing up. Judd shrugged and said that I seemed a whole lot happier now. Just then Will and Jada Smith walked up and we shook hands. Linda Ronstadt was approaching Amy and Julia Roberts was at her side. Within moments, we were all pleasantly in conversation. Amy and Julia had met several times in Aspen and they were catching up on gossip about some of the characters. I felt perfectly comfortable in this company when I heard my name being called. It was Jimmy Buffett asking me to get out my guitar. I excused myself and joined Jimmy and George Porter, Jr, one of my favorite bassists.

We started to play "Cheeseburgers in Paradise". Jimmy makes you feel like a pair of loose shoes when you play with him. Nothing changes with him over time. When we ended, I kicked into a slow funk groove and kicked into "Get Out My Life Woman" just because I wanted to hear George lay it down. Jim Keltner set up a snare and a high hat. His foot tapped a wood block and we had it going. George was smiling. Mark had his fiddle out and the sound was so cool it made us all smile. Linda came over and we kicked into "The Shoop Shoop Song." A bunch of the woman joined her (including Amy) as a backup and they all started to do some Motown choreography. What a scene!

Mark brought it down a little with "As The Years Go Passing By" and I had the opportunity to stretch out on a blues lead which felt very satisfying. As we ended it, I recalled that many years before, I hung out with Lowell George at his house which was not too far away up by Blue Jay Way. I started to play another Toussaint song, "On Your Way Down" and was happily surprised to hear Paul Barrere playing a Lowell-esque slide. Linda sang lead and when the song ended, we all took deep breaths.

"I hope Lowell liked that," she said.

Jimmy started "Like A Rolling Stone" and we had a great time playing it in a barrel-house, drunken style. Will Smith took the lead with a very comedic rendition. As we closed that song, Deb called out that there were fresh hot ribs available and we should grab some now.

"Uh-oh, the battle-axe calls! We better go or I'm in big trouble." Everybody laughed at Mark and we put down out instruments and headed for the table set up under the awning. More people were now joining the party and the house and backyard filled up. I saw Crosby and we waved to each other. Amy gave me a poke in the ribs when she spotted Clooney and his beautiful girlfriend, Sarah. Amy seemed to recognize Sarah but couldn't place her face. There was Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker. Johnny Depp and his wife were deep in conversation with Steven Soderburgh. I saw Richard Lewis laughing with Bruce Willis who was holding a harmonica. Hooray for Hollywood!

But about those ribs... I complimented Deb but she waved to the chef. "He's from Memphis. He worked at Corky's? You know Corky's?"

I've heard of it but never eaten there. Whenever I'm in Memphis, I go to the Rendezvous."

"Those are great, too. I grew up just outside of Memphis and I've had them all but purely love Corky's Slow Cooked."

"Yes indeed, they certainly are delicious."

I heard a blues harp and turned around to see Willis playing with Keltner and Lee Sklar aka "Mr. Natural". I wiped my hands and picked up someone's blond Tele and jumped in. It was "Don't Start Me To Talkin'" into "She Caught The Katy" into "Fattening Frogs For Snakes" and it was wild. Kootch beckoned for his guitar and I handed it over and they jumped into "Let The Good Times Roll" - the Louis Jordan one. The joint was rockin' I thanked Kootch, bowed to the band and made my way back to Amy.

"This is some great party. Did you taste these ribs?"

"It is and I did. I think I'm going to break down and have a drink, my chops are dry."

"Did I hear you say that you were going to have a drink?" asked Mark. Waving to the bartender, he whispered something to him and then went over to where the band was playing. When the song ended, he took the mic.

"Friends, friends...may I have your attention, please? My friend, Davy Harper, has decided to break down and have a drink. And so, I would like to make a toast...a Hollywood toast, if you will. The waiters are coming around with an assortment of beverages. If you are a twelve-stepper, as most of you are, please take a soft drink. (laughter). The rest of you are invited to take a tequila shooter (more laughter). Now, last week, my darling Deb and I serendipitously hooked up with Davy and Amy at one of our favorite vacation spots. Well, things got to things and I invited Davy to join us at the Food Pantry Benefit. As luck would have it, he agreed. I'd like to make a toast to all of you who helped to make this year's benefit the most profitable one we've ever held and to my friend, Davy Harper, who helped to make it the most pleasurable one I've ever experienced. He's inspired me, and a whole bunch of others, to go further than we've ever gone with this project and to make new and better things happen in the future for all those who are not as lucky as we. Here's to my buddy, Davy, and to the new things we will do together. And, of course, here's to all of you. God bless you all. (applause)"

I sheepishly turned red and Amy elbowed me. I lifted my shooter and tossed it back. Mark waved me to the mic but I waved him off. Amy pushed me toward it and I hesitated again. The crowd started to chant and I conceded and walked toward Mark, nodding my head 'no' but gesturing with my hand to 'give me more.'

"Thanks Mark and thanks to all of you. When Mark asked if I would join him on stage, I could not refuse. Not too many years ago, I, too, was the beneficiary of food pantries and soup kitchens so I understood the need to raise money and fill all those shelves, not just here but all around our country. Our country...the richest nation in the world...and we have to raise money to help the poor, the hungry, the unemployed, the unlucky. What's wrong with this picture? Something is truly fucked with this picture. Unfortunately, we are not equipped to solve this problem ourselves but we are able to ease the pain. And that's what we do, we entertainers...we ease the pain...we take people away from their problems and we ease their pain. And it helps us to ease our own pain, too. I am blessed to be here with my partner, Amy Bieler and we are blessed to be here with all of you - all of you beautiful souls who give of yourself, your craft, your art and your pockets. Now, after having said all of that, I'd like to break down again and have another shooter (laughter)...but this one is to my friends, Mark and Deb O'Flannery and to thank them for their love, their vision and their consummately healing devotion to all that is good and right." The waiters scooted around with another round. "Now, I know that I'm pushing my envelope here but fuck it, let's boogie!" Laughter and applause greeted my toast and we threw back another one. Mark came over and hugged me as flashbulbs went off. He picked up his violin and I grabbed my Martin. He began to play a beautiful cadenza which worked it's way into "Let's Work Together." The rest of the band jumped in and all the other musician's picked up their instruments, too. The singers congregated on the side and within a minute or two, we were into it and on the beat. It became a big sing-along, clap-along.

"Oh well now, come on you people, Walk hand in hand, Let's make this world of ours, A better place to stand, And work together, Come on, come on, Let's work together.

Because together we will stand, Every boy, girl, woman and man, Well now together we will stand, Every boy, girl, woman and man."

Applause and cheers followed the song and I felt real camaraderie. I put my guitar down and walked back to my girl. I hugged and kissed her.

"You're drunk!," she laughed.

"Close but not yet. But I do have to sit down."

Deb took me by the hand and led us into the living room and a big comfy couch. It felt good to sit and I had relaxed conversation with lots of different people who passed through the room, many of whom were leaving. Amy got me an orangeade and I chugged half of it in one gulp. Clooney sat down next to me and asked if I was good to meet him on Wednesday at The Oak Room instead of Stephan's On Montana as originally planned. "Only if Amy joins us," I said and he said, "Well, of course!" I explained to George that when it came to business, Amy had a better head than I and that we assessed all our business together. He was fine with that.

The rest of the evening seemed to pass a bit faster and soon, it was getting late. I suggested to Amy that we mosey on but Deb and Mark wouldn't hear of it. Soon the place was empty and the staff was cleaning up. We found ourselves on the patio having coffee with Mark, Deb, and their neighbors, Andrew and Bobbie. Andrew, a lawyer, also happened to represent Mark's interests. The catering manager told Deb that they would return in the morning to finish up.

"How's about we hit the hot tub. What do you say? It's only eleven." The next thing I knew, the six of us were naked and sipping drinks from plastic cups. There were a couple of shots left in the tequila bottle and we passed it around taking swigs. Andrew lit a bowl and passed that around. I was taking in the view of the twinkling lights of the city off in the distance at the foot of the canyon. I was not paying attention to the conversation. My mind was swimming.

"Davy, did you hear anything I just said?" asked Andrew. "Davy?"

Shaken from my reverie and okay, maybe a combination of a little bit tipsy, a little woozy and a bit of whacked, I apologized and said that I was off in the stars somewhere. Mark stepped in and told Andrew that we weren't talking business tonight.

"Good, Mark, because I don't think I'm of sound mind," I said.

"Always the lawyer," said Bobbie, shaking her head, He just can't turn it off." I took a good look at her and appraised her naked body. I've always had a thing for small Asian woman but Bobbie didn't do it for me. Maybe it was her fake boobs. Maybe it was because she was obviously a trophy wife and well pampered. I don't know. She certainly was pretty and exotic looking but, on this night, who knows why but she didn't arouse me.

"I'll discuss it with the Davy tomorrow, Andrew, and thank you," said Amy. "Will you guys excuse us, we're both bushed and I can see that Davy is a bit twisted. Are you guys free this week? We'd love to return...maybe for lunch or dinner and a tub?"

Deb said that she was exhausted, too and the tub was knocking her out. She suggested we call it a night. We exited the tub and were toweling off. Even Mark looked whipped. Andrew, on the other hand, seemed to be the Energizer Bunny and was loading up a bong. I took a deep hit as Amy dragged me out to the car.

"Davy! You forgot your guitar!" Mark called after me.

"Damn, I must be really wasted!" We hugged as I put it in the trunk. Amy took the keys from me as Deb said she'd meet her tomorrow.

I looked at Amy quizzically. "Girl's day...were going shopping, remember."

"Oh, yes. Sorry, A. My head is swimming."

"Okay, Davy, I'll let it pass...this time," she was smiling, thank God.

Mark said he would call me in the morning and I gave him a thumb's up.

We got into the car and I began to give her directions. "Shush...GPS." We were back at the bus in a few minutes. We closed up our vehicles and quickly snuggled into bed. Santo was already snoring.

"Davy, I have a lot to say to you. I loved your toast and I loved the whole incredible scene tonight but I really don't want to talk with my mouth full." She took my soft drunken cock between her lips and began to kiss it in a most loving way. It flopped around as she kissed the head and nibbled around the crown. My blood rushed directly from my skull into my little head and she moaned in delight as it began to stiffen under her manipulation. Her tongue swathed around the magic vein down to the edge of my scrotum and back up. She squeezed it and forced me to jump as got harder. She waved it around her lips and made popping sounds as she sucked my piss-slit. "Ohhh...," I moaned as she sucked the length and gobbled me. Her fingernails lightly scraped my balls and followed her mouth up and down, up and down, up and down. If there was a course in blowjobs, she wrote the syllabus. As she grasped my girth between her lips and slid up and down, her tongue performed it's magic on me. I was in heaven as my pre-cum dripped and she sucked it out, making my helmet nearly burst from the hypersensitivity I was feeling. Several times, I tried to pick up the pace but she slowed it down, as if to savor a gourmet meal.

"I can't hold it back much longer, baby. It feels too good."

"Let me have it. Feed me your cum...all of it."

She bottomed out at the base of my dick and gradually picked up the pace. Between the feeling of her tight hold on my sac and my dick tickling the back of her throat, I knew it wouldn't be long before I splashed her palate. And I was correct as I felt my cum rise. It seemed to shoot up like a rocket as I began to spew my seedless, viscous milk into her. She was siphoning out my cum ravenously. I couldn't slow down as it pumped into her, shot after shot after shot.

"Mmmm...more...give me more, Davy."

I raised up my hips and splashed into her. Her soft sucking was draining me and I felt the sensitivity of my nerve endings tingle. I could shoot no more but that didn't stop her as she smeared my cock around her face and shook it. She squeezed and pulled every last drip of me until I had to pull her away. She held my dick and ran her palm up and around it as it softened and deflated. My breathing slowly began to regulate as she curled into my arm and lightly licked my left nipple.

"Close you eyes, baby, and fall asleep, my love."

"Okay, but first I must kiss your beautiful face...oh, that felt so fine." I held her tight and devoured her mouth with mine. We melded into one loving organism and I closed my eyes. Her warm body tucked into mine was comforting, my body relaxed. My mind seemed to shut down and I was soon asleep, dreaming of her snuggling into me.

When I arose in the morning, I found her curled up in the couch and writing again. I sipped my coffee and scratched Santo's head, making sure I did not disturb her. Suddenly, pencil down, she stopped and looked at me.

"You won't believe the song I just wrote! You have got to read this!" She shook her head in disbelief as she handed me the notebook. I began to read aloud.

"Call me on the telephone, Pick a time when I'm home alone, Put on your deepest baritone, and Talk Dirty To Me.

Tell me your deepest hidden fantasies, Describe a part of me you'd like to squeeze, You raise my body heat by ten degrees when you Talk Dirty To Me.

Tell me how you like to do it. Tell me how you like it done. Snuggle up to the mouthpiece. We're gonna make big fun.

If you're tired of acting dignified, And you want me to make you feel good inside, Don't start to stutter, don't get all tongue-tied, just Talk Dirty to Me.

Tell me how you like to do it. Tell me how you like it done. Give me your credit card number, And baby, are you over twenty-one?

Dial the number at your fingertips, Let's keep it going 'til the phone line drips, Let down your hair, let loose your lips and Talk Dirty To Me (go for it, baby) Talk Dirty To Me (do it, do it, do it, do it) Talk Dirty To Me.

"This is fucking great, Amy! Where the hell did this come from?"

"I had a dream last night of when I was in college. During my first semester, I was hungry for some cash because my habits were becoming expensive. So this girl on my dorm floor turned me on to this phone sex company and several of us starting working for them. I only did it for a few months. At first it turned me on and I would finger myself as I chatted but that didn't last long. I began to feel guilty about separating these saps from their hard-earned cash. I also felt dirty - kind of seamy...sleazy, so I stopped it and never went back to it. I never told anybody about it because I was ashamed but somehow, it all poured out of me this morning and kind of wrote itself."

"I think it's excellent. I can't wait until I see you perform it. The audience will go nuts for this, I guarantee it."

"I feel exhilarated now. My whole being seems freed up and loose. Hey, I like this songwriting thing, it's fun!"

"I'm glad to see your creativity flow. Now that you're letting it out, keep the tap open and keep it going."

"Oh, I will. I will. But now, I'm going to shower and get ready for my day with the ladies."

"And I'm going to walk my hairy little buddy."

My cell phone rang as we approached Los Flores. It was Ed and his enthusiasm blared through the speaker. "Hey Davy, I've got some interesting stuff to share with you. Are you busy?"

"No, not at all, Ed. It is a bit of an off-day for me. I'm just walking my dog on the beach."

"Can I stop by in about an hour?"

"Sure. I'll be here."

The phone rang again. It was Mark. "What are you up to today?" he asked.

"I just got a call from Begley. He's coming by in about an hour to discuss some things he learned about the bus. What about you? What are you doing today?"

"Not a lot. I have a meeting later this afternoon with Andrew but I think I'll bail on it. I thought I might come by and hang if that's cool with you."

"Of course it is, Mark. I'm here. Come by whenever."

"Ok. I'll let Deb drop me off when she picks up Amy. Let's see, it's 10:30...we'll be there in about forty-five minutes, all right?"

"Great. See you then."

Santo and I turned to walk back. It was warm and, as usual, my feet were bare allowing the sand to sift through my toes. I felt like a beach bum today and I liked it. From far off, I could see a figure prowling around the bus. As I sneakily approached the bus, I saw that it was my creepy nervy neighbor and he was trying to peer into it. I was angry and ready to kick his ass but instead, I took out my cell as I neared and waiting for him to come around. When he turned toward the front, he nearly banged into me and was shocked.

I grabbed his collar. "So, I'm about to hit the send on 911. Why shouldn't I?" Santo, sensing my anger, began to growl.

He froze. "Please don't, Mr. Harper. Please. I'm not doing anything, I swear."

"Bullshit. Not doing anything, my ass! You know my name? What's in your hand?", I asked as I grabbed it from him. "Ooh-wee! A Flip camcorder! Now what's a bum like you doing with a Flip? Who'd you rip this off of?"

"Nobody, I swear. He gave it to me. He said he'd pay me if I filmed you and her and your friends doing stuff. I got nothing against you, man. I just need the cash, y'know?"

"Who said they'd pay you?" I was astonished at the way this kid babbled out his crime.

"This guy." He handed me a card. "He told me to call him when I had something good and I could email it to him...said he'd pay me two-fifty."

The card read: "Tom Avinet, Larson & Lowry, Private Investigators". Located in Bel Air and an email address.

"So now you get nothing. The camera's mine now, too. And I'm calling the cops." I took a quick look at his footage and was glad to see that the dark tinted glass prevented the camera from filming anything. All he'd shot was the reflection off the glass.

"No, no, please. I can't get another hit. I swear I'm telling you the truth."

"I know you're full of shit." I grabbed his collar and opened the door. "Amy? You decent? Can you come here?"

Amy came out holding her mascara wand. "I'm just finishing my makeup. What's up?"

At that moment, Ed pulled up on his bike. He saw me holding the kid by the collar and he sensed trouble. "You need some help?"

"Yes, please. Will you hold onto him for me? I'm trying to decide whether to call the cops or not. I caught him snooping around the bus with this HD camcorder. He says he's getting paid by a private detective to get hot stuff on me and on my friends. Could be paparrazi. I'm thinking about what to do with him."

Amy asked for the card and told us to hold on to him while she made a phone call. Ed grabbed the kid from me and asked if he should kick his ass. Just at that moment, Mark, Deb and Linda drove up. I repeated the story to them. Linda and Deb went into the bus. Santo was confused; should he growl at the kid or follow the women into the bus. He scampered into the bus where the smells were better.

Mark and Ed suggested that the private detective was dealing with some paparazzo but I wasn't buying that. So far, the paparazzi hadn't figured out where I was hanging and anyway, they'd taken plenty of good shots in the last few days. The kid was shaking and scared because Ed kept telling him that the cops were on their way.

Amy called me into the bus. "I just called one of my people to look into this guy, Avinet. We should know some more soon."

Linda hung up her phone. "I just spoke to an old friend who's a detective on the force. He tells me that this guy, Avinet, is very shady and often does work for the studios. He suggested that the bus might be bugged. He's coming over now to check it out as a favor. I think he still has a thing for me. Nice guy. He'll be here in a couple of minutes."

I walked out of the bus with the women behind me and asked the kid where he planted the bug. The kid went wide-eyed.

"How'd you know?"

"Look, I'm not fucking playing with you anymore, moron. The cops will be here in five minutes and you're toast anyway so you better give it up."

"Oooh, shit." he groaned. "If I show you will you let me go? I don't need anymore trouble."

"Fuck you. You did this to yourself. If you didn't need the trouble, you shouldn't have gotten into this. I'll be glad when they toss you, you little fuck."

"Okay, okay, okay. Here's one." He reached under the awning latch and pulled a small wireless mic from under the cowling. "Here's the other one and I swear, that's all there is." He led us around to the rear of the bus and opened the vented exhaust door. Reaching up and into it, he took out the other one and handed it to me. "Look, I just put them there a few minutes ago. Will you let me go now?"

Linda called her friend and told him what we had found. He said he was just around the bend and that some police cruisers were ahead of him. Just then, a black Chevy with tinted windows parked about a hundred yards away took off screeching toward the exit. Unfortunately for him, a police car was pulling into the trailer park and blocked him. Soon, three other police cars surrounded the car.

"Well, it looks like we got us a party."

A few moments later, another car, this one unmarked, pulled in. A tall handsome guy stepped out as the officers were questioning the driver. We watched silently until, with the driver in cuffs, they walked toward us.

Linda greeted her friend, Lloyd, and I saw his eyes sparkle. Ed whispered that it looked like he was making a screen test. Then he said, "Hey, I know him. He worked as an advisor on a show I did."

"Hello, Mr. Harper. Mr. Begley, nice to see you again. Linda! I'm Detective Lloyd Taeger. The guy in the cuffs over there is Tom Avinet. May I have the bugs you discovered, please?" I handed them over. "I have the portable recorder in his car. This is good, I've wanted Avinet's ass for a while now but he's a slippery bastard."

Avinet was sweating profusely. "I don't know what you're talking about. These ain't mine."

The kid said, "I ain't going to jail for this. You owe me $250. You gave me these and told me where to put them."

Lloyd looked at Avinet and laughed, "It looks like you're in deep shit, Tommy boy...your accomplice just fingered you." He looked at the uniforms and told them to bring him in and book him. They began to read him his rights.

"Wait, wait a minute," cried Avinet. "This guy at Warner's paid me to do this. I swear. I've done some stuff for him before. Come on, let's make a deal."

"You can tell me all about it at the station house. Take the kid, too." They were both led away. Lloyd said that I could press charges if I liked but since they were in possession of illegal bugging devices, it wasn't necessary and this way, we could keep it away from the press. He also suggested he sweep the bus before he left. He couldn't find anything else and after some private words with Linda, he took off, too. We all went into the bus and I closed the door and drew the shades.

"I promised him he could take me to dinner. That's not so bad. He's kind of hunky - and these days, I could use a hunk of that."

I lit a joint and took a deep drag before passing it around. "It's kind of lucky that I spotted the kid prowling around. I've got to call Jimmy and my people in New York, if you'll excuse me for a couple of minutes. Amy, why don't you show them the song you wrote this morning. You guys are going to love it."

I made my calls and filled everyone in on what had just gone down. Jimmy was thrilled. He thought it would make a good chapter in his next adventure novel. He also asked if he could pass along the bad news to the brass at Warner's. "You know, you have them by the short and curlies now. I love it." I told him to wait on it as I was sure my lawyers wanted to make the first call. He agreed and said he wanted to write this down immediately. He was positively cackling. My New York call to Danny went just as well and I could visualize them all jumping up and down.

When I reentered the bus, they were applauding Amy. I was smiling broadly. Linda had a melody line and a cool creative vibe was happening around Amy. I went over to my desk and opened my lockbox. I peeled off a bunch of bills and handed them to Amy, Deb and Linda. "Here's a thousand dollars each. I want you all to piss this away today. Buy stupid stuff, buy anything. Let's all celebrate. It's not everyday that an artist gets freed from all contracts, gets all his rights back and gets back at the people who fucked him way back when. Revenge will be very, very sweet." I danced around holding my sides in laughter.

The girls were giddy as they headed out. Amy asked them to wait while she finished her makeup. Deb said, "Screw that! Let's go get done at a salon. I know just the place!" Linda grabbed her arm and said that they still had to pick up someone else and they ran out, jumping into the Caddy.

"Whew!" I said! "This is good day!" We sat around and shmoozed for a while. The weed calmed us a little but we were all plenty euphoric.

"Listen Davy," Ed said, "If you want, we can take a drive over to the Tesla Showroom. It's just down the road in Santa Monica and Elon is over there today. We had a big conversation and he said he wants to update the bus for you. He was telling me that since he and Ferrin first customized this bad boy, there are some things he wants to tweak. You guys up for it?"

"What the fuck? It's only a buck." I said.

"No, no, no," Mark quipped. "If Vanity Fair and Annie Liebovitz want to do a story on you and Amy and the bus - it sounds like a trade-off freebie to me. You'll get more than your money's worth out of this, you'll see."

'Come on, guys, let's go." I put out some treats and water for Santo and locked up the bus, making sure I had all the security on. We piled into the Bentley and drove off laughing like loons. Ten minutes later, we pulled in front of the Tesla showroom. Elon Musk immediately came out of his office and greeted us. He showed us around several cars and talked about the upcoming sedan. He was a real car buff as well as a fast talker and a sharp salesman but a very fun and entertaining character.

"There's a few things I'd like to do to the bus, Davy. I'd like to update the computer software. I want to tweak the ESS and the PEM modules. We can increase the range for you...a bunch of things under the skin and maybe a few more luxuries for you. Ferrin liked it more utilitarian but we can make it classier and well as more efficient. It won't change the footprint at all. What do you say? I can price it up for you and get back to you with it."

"It sounds great, Elon. (Of course, I hadn't a clue to what we was talking about but I knew it was all good.) Since Graydon wants to do a story about our travels - with Annie Liebovitz behind the lens - it'll make the story even better!"

"He does? Oh, wow! Let me go wild, Davy. Forget about the price, we'll call it a wash!" Mark privately winked at me.

"Go for it, Elon. But listen, before you make any changes to the interior, you'll have to clear it with Amy. She has the final say on the interior. We'd both like to keep it understated...sophisticated...you get where I'm coming from? Now, how 'bout you join us for lunch and we can talk about this. You know the neighborhood. Where should we go? I'm hungry."

After a discussion of what kind of food we wanted, we ended up at Amelia's Espresso. Maybe we pigged out a little but, hell, the food was delicious. Elon never stopped talking about their latest designs, the health of the company, the future...if it was about his car, he talked about it. Ed tossed some ideas about making the car even more green than it already was. He's a fascinating guy, that Ed. Mark and I just smiled and chomped away.

I picked up the tab and we strolled out toward the pier. It was a glorious day and fun, too. We stopped into a few shops and picked up baubles for our queens. We stopped into McCabe's and I bought some strings, a new strap and a sweet little ukulele. We stopped into Ye Olde Kings Head Shoppe, too. I got some chicken treats for Santo at Trader Joe's. We browsed Second Spin and signed a few autographs. Ed bought some stuff for his bike. We even went into a sex store. In fact, the only stores we avoided were the clothing stores. By the time we got back to the Bentley, our arms were full of new toys. We even carried flowers back. I know how to make my baby smile.

I arranged with Elon to take the bus for a couple of days. I asked Mark which hotel we should check into and he replied, "Nonsense, you two are staying with us. I won't hear of anything else!" It was late in the afternoon by the time we drove off. Ed rode his bike back and we followed behind since all his stuff was in the trunk. From his green cottage, we drove back to the bus and stretched out trying out the crap we bought at Ye Olde Kings.

Amy and Deb pulled up about an hour later loaded with bags. Mark and I were plenty smashed and we made a silly show of the flowers we'd bought them. Buying your woman flowers always has a magical affect and these women were no different.

"Did you boys have fun today?"

"Yes, we did. Since our encounter this morning, I've been floating. I think that it's safe to say that I will get back all my rights and properties. After that, we can enter the new world of Internet sales and marketing and be in control of the whole thing. It's something I've wanted for years. So today, Mark, Ed and I went to a meeting with Elon Musk who wants the bus for a couple of days so he can upgrade it and update the controls. The best part is that he's doing it all for free in exchange for the Vanity Fair story. But I told him that he first has to clear all the interior stuff with you, A. We strolled around Santa Monica, had a great lunch and bought lots of toys...even some for you guys."

"...And you're going to like them," added Mark.

"Oh, goodie. I love presents," said Deb, "but first, how about Amy and I give you a fashion show?"

Amy asked, "What hotel shall we stay at while..."

Mark cut her off. "No hotel. You're staying at our place. No discussion on this, it's already decided."

"Double goodie! We're going to have big fun! Come on, Amy, let's show off!"

They walked into the bedroom. Mark pulled a bag of weed from his pocket and filled his new bong. He poured some cold white wine into it and we took some killer hits. We could hear the women giggling as they changed. We just sat there toking and grinning like assholes. Mark suggested we sing the Miss America song when they walked out.

"First outfit!" Amy yelled and the women strode out as we sang, "Here she comes, Miss America" to them. They both looked fabulous. Amy was in a sleeveless red silk gown and pushed her tits up and hugged her curves. Deb was in a dark green and silver gown. It was slit along her legs and very elegant. We applauded them.

"These are both couture from Givenchy." Mark and I looked at each other and shrugged as they went back into the room.

Next were very chic daytime outfits. "We got these from Moon Zappa's store. Cute, huh?" We nodded. "We also got some jeans, bathing suits and..." she said as they went back into the bedroom.

They were giggling again as they were changing. "Your attention please!" shouted Deb.

They strolled out in new panties and bras. "Nice," I said. "Pretty," said Mark.

"And now, for the finale!"

As they were changing, Mark and I commented as to how we could give a shit about their underwear as we only wanted to remove them.

They walked backwards into the salon. Their ass cheeks were defined by the thin strings that rode up their crack. Slowly, they turned around. They were wearing crotchless panties and bras with cutouts for their nipples.

"Now, you're talking fashion," said Mark. They turned around again and bent over displaying the view from the rear. "Golleeeeee," I muttered.

"Linda took us to this naughty store where she bought an outfit to wear for Lloyd. What do you think?"

"Lucky Lloyd!" said Mark.

"No, silly!" said Deb, "I mean about our clothes? Gee whiz, Mark!"

I pointed down to my hard-on pressing up against my shorts. "I'm not thinking...but he is!"

Amy strolled over to me and, grabbing my head, pushed my face into her framed puss. Deb just backed her ass into Mark's face so he could easily stick his tongue into her.

"I think they like this outfit the best, Deb," Amy said as she backed away from me.

Deb moved away from Mark and leaned her tits over my face. "What do you think, Davy?" I licked her nipple and said I like the ease of access a lot.

"I bet you do."

"I like these, they are really comfortable. I can wear this under a skirt and you can just bend me over. The bra will look great under a t-shirt. I like when my nipples peek out, it turns me on to turn you on." Amy smiled.

"Yeah, me too," said Mark.

We relit the bong and passed it around getting even sillier. Mark said they we had bought some new clothes, too and he nodded toward the bedroom. When we returned, we were both naked but wearing our shorts on our heads. The girls roared.

"Let's see what you guys bought today."

I took the uke out of it's case and started to play, "Yes, Sir, That's my Baby." We showed off the strings, capos, rosin and music stuff. Then came the dope paraphernalia. I tossed Santo a chicken treat.

"That's it?" said Deb.

"Oh yeah, I forgot!" We each pulled out boxes of chocolates and dried fruits for them.

"Yum! That's a good start!" Next, I gave Amy a gold and stone necklace and earring set. "Oh, I love it. They match my eyes." Mark gave Deb a pair of pink diamond earrings. I then handed Amy and box containing several Bakelite rings from the nineteen-forties. They were very retro. "Oh, my. Real Bakelite jewelry. I love them, Davy." Mark gave Deb a similar box and she damn near swooned.

"And no for the finale! One, two, three!" Mark and I pulled out ten-inch cut-glass dildos.

"Oh, Jesus. Look at that!" They took them and held them, felt them, weighed them and then licked them. Amy sat down on the floor and spread her legs, slowly inserting the glass cock into the crotchless panties. Deb sat down next to her and did the same. They were showing off to us as we stroked our bones.

"I like the weight of it," said Amy, "It's kind of slick, too. The shape is great and it's ticking my g-spot."

"Yeah, I like that g-spot feeling, too. The head is very flared and it hits me right in the right place," added Deb who began to pump it with fervor.

I turned on the iPod.

<1>"I met a gin soaked, bar-room queen in Memphis, She tried to take me upstairs for a ride. She had to heave me right across her shoulder 'Cause I just can't seem to drink you off my mind.

It's the honky tonk women Gimme, gimme, gimme the honky tonk blues.

I laid a divorcee in New York City, I had to put up some kind of a fight. The lady then she covered me with roses, She blew my nose and then she blew my mind.

It's the honky tonk women Gimme, gimme, gimme the honky tonk blues.

(Yeah!) It's the honky tonk women. Gimme, gimme, gimme the honky tonk blues.

(Yeah!) It's the honky tonk women. Gimme, gimme, gimme the honky tonk blues."

I moved off the couch and squatted over Amy's head allowing her to suck me in while I watched her move the glass cock in long slow motions. She pulled my butt down so she could swallow me deeper. With my knees on the floor, I bent over and smelled her twat. I licked her clit and then moved back to watch some more.

Mark kneeled down and started to rub their pussies and tweak their clits. Deb had now moved her hand onto Amy's breast and was enjoying her pop-out nipple. I pulled myself up and moved over Deb's head so she could now suck my cock. Whereas Amy was more delicate, Deb was a bit wilder and sloppily drooling all over me and occasionally letting her teeth slide along the underside. I dropped down and filled her mouth. I leaned over and sucked on her clit. Her pussy was far more musky than Amy's. After a few minutes of this, I pulled off her and sat back down on the couch to watch. I lit the bong and sucked in the wine-flavored smoke.

Mark was now getting a blowjob from Amy as Deb slid her finger in and out of his ass. They were all panting and nearing their climax. Deb rolled over and joined Amy on Mark's cock as her hands roamed Amy's body. One hand took over on the dildo. She rolled onto Amy's leg and began to rub her puss against it. The dildo fell onto the floor and I leaned over, picked it up and licked her flavor off it. Mark began to cum as the girls shared his spunk, letting it drip over their faces. Mark pulled back and fell onto his ass. Amy and Deb were deep into fucking each other. It was a wonder to watch.

Deb was bouncing on Amy's leg while keeping up the rhythm of the dildo, now deep in Amy's canal. I could no longer sit and watch so I kneeled between Deb's upturned ass and easily slid my dick into it. "Oh, yeah. Fuck my ass, Davy. Harder...fuck it." Amy raised her knees and, with her feet flat on the floor, began to moan and heave as her orgasm rose. Deb was merciless and she pounded the cock into her. She leaned over and licked Amy's little man-in-the-boat which sent Amy overboard.

"Oh, my God. Fuck me. Ohhhhh...." It was that guttural moan/groan/scream I loved to hear. Deb let go of the cock and watched Amy's pussy contract and squeeze it, her juices dripping down her leg. Amy laid back, the top of her head against Mark's balls.

Deb was shaking her head and sighing as I plowed her butt. I reached around and diddled her clit but I couldn't keep up the position so she took over for me. The butt floss of her panties added an extra thrill as it rubbed against my cock. "Here it comes, Deb."

"Fill my ass," she replied. So I did. I pulled out letting it drip into her crack. I quickly grabbed her glass cock and filled her pussy. Her fingers beat a tattoo as she humped the dildo and twirled her fingers over it. My cock was still hard and I slipped it back into her ass. She gasped and started to quiver. We fell to the floor together as her orgasm filled her and her ass squeezed me dry. Laying on her back, I reached around and squeezed her nipples. They seemed to pop out of her bra to greet my hands. It became uncomfortable and I slipped off her. I sat with my back against the couch and refilled the bong. I passed it around.

"Nice underwear, girls, or did I mention that already?"

"No," Amy laughed, "but thanks for the compliments. And thanks for all the cocks! That was fun!"

Between tokes, Mark said he was hungry and wondered if anyone want to go out to eat or maybe bring in Chinese. Amy suggested, "Why don't we stay in and just whip something together and then fuck again."

"I second that motion," said Deb. "All in favor?" We all raised our hands.

It was not your typical evening's entertainment in our bus that night. We set a blanket on the floor and, sitting around naked, had a picnic of hot dogs, fish fillets and fries, accompanied by wine. For dessert, we had fruit salad, much of which ended up on our bodies which we promptly gobbled up. Then we ate each other.

"I can't wait until you guys sleep over at our place. I'm already making plans."

Thanks for your nice comments and encouragement to keep the story going. Please vote on how you like it. Any names and persons used in this story are purely coincidental, fictional, nonexistent and utterly intentional. Send your comments to oldhippie1949@gmail.com. Thank you. All lyrics copywritten and used as a tribute: "Let's Work Together", Wilbert Harrison. copyright2017 The Ol' Hippie