Rock-a-Billie Blues

Two

The three songs she sang passed, my utopia so fleeting. All heaving breasts and come-hither eyes. Then without ceremony, she left the stage and disappeared.

Fuck!

That was the most action I'd had in years, watching her thighs squeeze together while she serenaded me, like I was the only man in the room. I was so aroused it was downright painful!

Skulling what remained of my beer, I crossed my legs. I had to think of mundane and brain-numbing tasks. There was no way I could move, seeing I was sporting full mast.

What am I? Fucking fifteen?

Two plus two is four...

Blue and yellow make green...

God, those fucking stunning emerald eyes!

That didn't go to plan, so I reverted to my old method ... flexing my bicep. I gotta say, watching my member gradually deflate made me happier than anyone ever should be.

As my excitement subsided, I decided the best thing to do was find somewhere to settle for the rest of the day. I closed my eyes, remembering walking past a heritage-style hotel. I got up so quick the chair flung to the floor. Luckily, I saved myself in the nick of time, and began jogging back to the pathway. That was, until I saw a crowd of eyes following me.

Calm down Jeffrey, there's no rush here.

Taking a deep breath, I slowed my pace to a casual walk. It felt so alien to me, always in a rush here or there back in Melbourne. I could already tell it was going to take me a while to break that habit. The locals went back to their frivolities, sharing beers while relaxing in each other's company.

As I walked to a silent beat, I took in my surroundings. The architecture was chalk and cheese when comparing it to my old home. Instead of living on top of one another, everything was given its own breathing space, sizeable gaps between the simple-brick shopfronts. Everything felt so much more organic, with green rolling hills accenting with native gumtrees and shrubbery. There was even a graffitied roller-skate rink, kids showing off their moves, or just lazing about.

I eventually made it to the main road, where a veranda bordered building came into view, my current destination. It was covered in weathered red and green tiles, with a large hand painted sign: "Lawson Park Hotel."

That'll do.

I couldn't help but laugh at the scent of stale beer wafting up my nostrils as soon as I stood on the weathered, green carpet. No matter where you go, a pub is a pub. The place was quiet, people were still partying hard at the festival. In the distance pokie machines chirped, as the singular syncopated tapping from a frustrated patron made me chuckle. Moving further into the hotel, I discovered a lonely bar calling out to me.

Walking up to the barkeep, I ordered another schooner of old draft. The bartender grunted at me and poured the beer, then held his hand out for payment. Putting a pink note in his hands, I headed for the poorly-lit corner booth, my little haven.

I fished my cigarette pack out of one pocket and my engraved zippo out of the other. Running my hands over the grooves of the message Adriane engraved on my fortieth birthday present: The only truth is music. Fetching a coffin nail out, I place it on my lips and took my first drag. I held my breath, letting it soak in.

Fucking hell, I needed that!

The weird thing was that I felt her before I saw her. A shiver shot up my spine, shaking me up all over again. When I opened my eyes, sure enough, there she was, my tall glass of water in this oasis. She had legs to the heavens, curves for days and flawless porcelain skin that seemed to illuminate the poorly lit space. She drew closer and I wondered where she could've possibly been going. I looked around to double check I hadn't missed something, some other reason why she'd be here.

Maybe she's getting a drink?

Then why is she heading straight for me?

It was so hard to tell where she was going with those oversized sunglasses perched on her nose. How was I supposed to tell where she was looking? My jaw slackened as she swayed her hip into the booth, sliding over to me, leg to leg. She was so close now, I looked at my reflection in those glasses. I stroked my salt and pepper beard, thankful that I'd gone to the barbers before coming up here.

"Hey handsome, you gotta light?" she purred. I've lived here for just under twenty years so it was odd that her Aussie twang surprised me, but there was something distinctly different about her accent.

She whipped a rollie out of her clutch, before delicately placing it on her slightly parted painted lips.

I obliged, pulling out my zippo and placing the flame to the tip. She flicked her sunnies up as she took her first puff, her precious emeralds sparkling. There was something about that gleam that pulled you in, like she was up to no good, and she wanted you to do the same.

Clearing my throat, I finally plucked up the courage to speak. "You were really great at the festival."

A smirk played on her lips, relishing the silence between my compliment and her response. This woman was enjoying watching me squirm. After a few beats, she puckered her lips, filling the space between us with smoke. "Hmmmm, where's that accent from?"

Her chin upturned, eyes pinning me down goading a response. My response fell out of me, eager to keep the conversation going. "I grew up in Washington before meeting my late wife on my travels."

My heart ached at the memory of her, my poor Adrianne.

"Such sad eyes, Washington." She leaned over and brushed her fingers over my knuckles. "I'm sorry for your loss."

I nodded, then immediately changed the subject. "So, is Billie your stage name? Or is that the name your mother gave you?"

Flashing her pearly whites, she took another drag and breathed out. "It's one of the many things my mother gifted me with."

She wasn't wrong!

I took a swig of my beer, suffering from dry mouth all of a sudden. "Was she a fan of Billie Holiday?"

A sensuous chuckle escaped her lips. "My mother was always a sucker for a sad back story." She ran her nails down my thigh, making her way to my cock.

Billie leaned in, lips so close. "To be honest, I kinda have a soft spot for a sad back story too."

Feeding of her boldness, I tucked a stray lock behind her ear, skin so smooth. "Well shit, I've got that in spades."

We stayed close, talking about nothing in particular. She asked what Melbourne was like, then told me about her plans to travel. The more drinks that were ordered, the closer her mouth got to mine, leaving me to initiate. Her irises blew out, a sense of yearning battling with my usually reserved nature.

Should I do this?

But, before I could think anymore, her lips connected with mine. Electricity arced in the spaces between us, tongues massaged each other. This vivacious woman made me feel so alive. Billie made my system reboot, and all I could think about was her. I let go of all inhibitions as my hands made their way to her hair, gently tugging at her nape. Her hand firmly massaged my leg, deliciously close to my manhood.

Without breaking contact, she moaned into my mouth, "how about we take this upstairs, huh?"

When she made it to my erection my eyes rolled back, blood pooling. I was surprised when a whine escaped my lips as Billie broke the kiss and nibbled on her lower lip, waiting for me to give the green flag.

I nodded, tucking myself up and quickly shuffling out of the booth. Before I made it out, she pulled me back by the collar, halting me. "I'll meet you upstairs, Washington."

Yes... yes you will.

The vixen blew me a kiss and wiggled her ass at me before sauntering out of sight.