Life at Islands Estates

We loaded the Nomad, and Marie and I headed for St. Augustine. Dennis wanted to drive his pick-up so he had wheels if he got lucky, or if Marie and I decided to do something after the gig. We arrived early so Marie could set up her keyboards before Ronny scattered his drums all over the stage. I always set up on the right side of the stage, with Marie to my left, giving Dennis the center, and the bass man on the left. The drummer goes in the back. I plugged in all the cables and set the microphone stands in place. I had two guitars and my piggyback Fender Bandmaster amplifier nicely tucked into my corner of the stage before Jeff and Denny and Ronny showed up. I prefer to have my stuff in place and be out of the way first. That gives me time to scope the local talent and relax before we start.

Bob, the owner had a new billboard next to the main entrance and there, for the entire world to see, was our name on a colorful poster advertising our engagement. Bob asked if he could take a picture and put it on his billboard. We agreed and told him we would pose before we started to play.

I went to sit in the dining area and have a plate of fried shrimp. I was perusing the menu when our old friend from The Mill Top, Irene, glided up to the table and brought me a glass of iced tea. "Here you go, Honey," she drawled, "the house wine of the south."

"Irene," I stood and hugged her close. "How in the world are you any way?"

"Waiting on you to take me in the ladies room and ravage my body," she quipped.

Irene looked pretty good, for an older woman, in her white shirt and short skirt, even with the apron. "You got it, Baby. Later on after we get cranked up, we'll figure something out. As long as I get to keep your drawers."

"You're horrible," she scolded. Then she whispered in my ear, "White lace and crotch-less, just for tonight."

"You hussy," I said.

She vanished and returned with a platter heaped with golden brown fried shrimp. Marie and Dennis joined me and we made short work of the delectable food and we went over Denny's revised song list. He'd added some extra folk music for tonight and Marie and I would be singing a lot more harmonies with him. He was expanding his list, which meant he was spending more time rehearsing at home. I could jump in on almost anything and Marie had all the right moves on the keyboards. Jeff and Ron were the question marks. We had only limited experience with the two new players and I hoped it would be smooth.

Jeff and Ron joined us at the table. Denny gave them the list and they nodded their approval of the new songs and indicated they just needed him to give them a key and we were cool. I was enjoying this.

Marie handed out the new flowered shirts and we stepped into the office to change. It was the first time, since Dennis and I started the band, that we had ever dressed alike. I liked the shirts all the same because it made us look professional, which we are.

Marie had taken her bra off, when she put the satin shirt on, and the smooth cloth turned her nipples to stone. Denny, whose chest was really hairy, left the top three buttons undone.

"He's got a little swagger to his step tonight," Marie mentioned to me, out of earshot of Denny.

"You noticed that too?" I asked.

"Yeah, and he's hanging his chest out for the chickies to see too," she answered.

"No Chrissie for a few days. Louise and I saw them having a spat last week and I haven't seen her around. His mother's been by a couple of times though," I said.

"She's got the sweetest pussy in the whole world, we gotta get her to come over and play some more," Marie wished.

"It ain't no sweeter than yours, Lover," I said as I squeezed her leg under the table. "But it's the tightest little twat I've ever had my dick in."

She punched me on the arm and I laughed.

We went to the stage just before eight o'clock and fine-tuned our guitars and at eight sharp, Bob lowered the lights in the lounge and Jeff brought the colored floods up on the stage and we kicked off the night with an instrumental medley by Duane Eddy. We modulated into a couple of folk numbers by The Kingston Trio, and Peter, Paul & Mary. We played several fifties rock songs and one of our original songs. Dennis was spectacular tonight. He was working the crowd over the mic and introduced each tune by title and artist. He asked for and received requests and did every one they asked for. At 9:45, he kicked us into our break song and introduced each member of the band and gave each one of us a solo bridge and we left the stage to go on break with the whole place clapping their hands and hollering for more.

As soon as our feet hit the floor, we were surrounded with adoring fans. Dennis was deluged in a sea of female admirers. Marie was entrenched in a circle of smiling faces and Jeff and Ronny were being congratulated as well. I shook about twenty hands and looked up as Bob waved me over to the bar and pointed to a tall, blond haired fella in a gray suit. I pushed through the crowd and Bob grabbed my hand in his island-sized paw and shouted over the crowd, "Out fucking standing, Cool. The woman and new bass and drums are great. You're killing them." He gestured to the suit and introduced him as James Day, from Cypress Records, in Jacksonville.

I shook the man's hand and he said, "Nice job, Virgil, I like the look and I like the music. You cook on the leads, who's your teacher?"

"I learned it all myself," I explained. "I play by ear."

"Who writes your lyrics on the original stuff?" he asked.

"Marie does most of it, Dennis and I do the music and we collaborate on the arrangements. I've got a fairly extensive studio so it's easy to work on tracks." I told him.

"Í want to hear some more of your original stuff and I'd like to get you up to the studio in Jacksonville Beach to do a demo," He invited.

"I've got a demo reel I can send you if you want to hear some of our better stuff," I said.

"Fair enough," he said. "Here's my card, I'm really interested so let's get together, soon."

Irene was standing next to Bob at the bar. She handed me a cold iced tea and Bob patted me on the back and I thanked him for introducing me to the record promoter. My mind was racing a mile a minute. Marie finally came over and she was ecstatic.

"Who was that?" she asked.

I explained my recent conversation and she was elated even more. "Oh God," she cried. " I think I'm going to wet my pants, I'm so excited."

"Don't do it here, people will talk," I said.

She kicked me on the foot and hugged Irene. Irene whispered something in Marie's ear and she nodded and said something back. It was loud in the bar, and I couldn't hear what she said, but they were both smiling so I guessed it had something to do with me. We worked our way through the crowd and back to the stage. I pulled Dennis aside and told him about the record guy. I also told him what a fine job he was doing at the mic and to keep it up.

We kicked off the next set with six original songs and I watched as Bob and the gray suit nodded approval as we ended each song. Dennis and Marie were knocking them dead with their duets and when Jeff and I joined on the choruses, it was awesome. We played 'til 11:45 and took our last break.

I threaded my way over to the bar and Irene handed me a tea. "Make it a cold mug of suds, next time," I said.

I sat on the stool at the end of the bar and Irene moved close to me and stood, hidden by the bar, with her hand in my lap. She massaged my Johnson through my pants.

"If I go back up there with a hard dick, Honey, people will think I've been up to something," I said.

"I was just checking it out," she whispered.

"I know what you're doing. Hang around after we finish and we'll see if we can't scratch your itch," I told her.

"I'll be here, Baby," she hissed.

We played until 1:30 and still had a full dance floor for the last number. I pulled the plugs and cased the guitars, put the mics in the tote bag and loaded it all in the car. Marie and Dennis were sitting hip to hip on two bar stools with their heads together going over a song list for tomorrow night. I sat at the end again. Bob asked if we needed to be paid tonight or did we want it all on Sunday. I told him Sunday would be fine and I paid Jeff and Ronny out of pocket and they left for Jacksonville Beach. Bob and his girls were finishing their cleanup and Irene was nowhere in sight.

Dennis announced that he and Marie were heading back if I didn't mind riding alone. I assured them I would be fine and they departed. I was working on my cold draft when Irene strolled back into the room and sat next to me. She waved for a brew and lit a smoke. The apron was missing and she had a different blouse on. Thin and gossamer with long flowing sleeves. The bra, filled to overflowing, was white lace. I supposed by her earlier comment, so were her panties. She was thin, and fairly tall, 5'-9" or so. The hair was graying and her face no longer had the smoothness of youth. Her lips were painted pink and left a fresh mark on her cigarette, and the rim of her beer mug. I wondered if she would leave a pink smear on my cock if she sucked on it.

"So, Irene, tell me about yourself," I said.

"Not much to tell, really. Been around here all my life. Married three times, widowed this last time, almost four years now. Five kids, three girls and two boys, all grown and gone to the four winds. I live over at Crescent Beach, where State Road 206 comes into A-1-A. It ain't much, but it was paid off when Harold died. All I do is work in these bars for something to do and keep myself in beer and cigarettes. Harold's Social Security pays the bills," she said.

"Sounds like you've got a handle on things. You got a boyfriend?" I asked.

"Shit, who'd want to fuck around with a wrinkled old hag like me?" she complained.

"Hell, Irene, age is all in your mind. I love older women. I've been doing a sixty year old regularly, for a long time," I answered.

"Well, Honey, I'm a lot older'n sixty but I still enjoy doing the bump and grind now and then. I haven't had a young one like you since I was thirty," she lamented. "Most of y'all just want a blow job in the parking lot at quitting time. Which is fine, don't get me wrong, I like suckin' dick. But every now and again, it's nice to spend the night getting royally fucked."

"Your place, or mine?" I asked. "Mine's closer, follow me," she said, smiling, and gathered her things.

I followed her red Fairlane across the Bridge Of Lions and south down the beach road, which is A-1-A, through the palmetto hammock just past the intersection of State Road 206. She turned left, toward the ocean, on a narrow rutted drive. The old house sat on the beach between the dunes. I parked behind her car and climbed the stairs up to the house, which was elevated on wooden pilings. It was after two in the morning. She switched on a couple of lamps and motioned for me to sit on the sofa. The small house was comfortable and very clean. Irene came into the room carrying two bottles of beer. A cigarette dangled from the corner of her mouth. She sat across from me and tapped the ash off her butt into a huge glass ashtray.

"So, why you like old tired pussy," she asked, "when there's so much hot young stuff runnin' around to grab?"

"I just enjoy the way an older woman treats me. Like she appreciates the fact I'm there with her and not because I came there to take something from her. Know what I mean?" I asked.

"I sure do, Honey," she said.

She mashed her cigarette into the ashtray and stood up. She unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the floor. She unbuttoned the front of her blouse but didn't remove it yet. She reached for my belt buckle and flipped it open. Then she popped the button and pulled my pants down over my feet. I wasn't wearing shorts. Irene dropped to her knees and licked my semi-hard cock savoring my musky odor. I had been standing under hot stage lighting for five hours and I can work up a heavy sweat when I play music. I must have been ripe.

She worked her tongue all around me leaving no part of my now rigid cock and balls out of her ritual. Her wrinkled hand wrapped itself around my prick and aimed it into her hot mouth. She had the touch of a feather. Her lips were soft, her fingers were smooth, and her tongue was wanton. It felt as though she was performing a religious ceremony, on my cock. She made me feel good all over.

"C'mon, Cowboy," she said. "Le'me take you in the bedroom, we're gonna need the bed to do this right."

I pulled my shirt over my head and she pushed me back on the bed. She removed her blouse, unsnapped her bra and pulled the crotch-less panties off. Her big old tits hung heavy on her chest and her belly was covered with stretch marks from her many pregnancies. An immense patch of graying hair covered her pussy. She kneeled beside me, presented her hairy box for my inspection, and returned her attention to my steel hard member. I parted her bush with my fingers and found her soft protruding labia buried within. I slipped my tongue between them, into her folds and drew a quick response.

She stiffened and relaxed at my first contact with her open pussy. I swabbed her inner petals bringing a sweet, steady flow of cunt honey from within. She continued to softly suck on me keeping me incredibly hard. Her body rocked with one small quake after another until she was nearly out of breath. She rose and turned around, positioning her wet hole above my cock. I held myself vertical, as she lowered herself over me, sending me deep within her velvet glove. She rested flat on my chest after she reached the bottom. We slowly started to move and after what seemed like hours, she was bucking on top of me.

She rode hard until her climaxes forced her to throw herself back down on my chest at which time, I drove my prick completely into her deepest reaches and flushed her with a tidal wave of molten jizz. She squealed like she was in terrible pain when she felt the hot flow bloom inside her cunt.

We had been at it for hours. The sun was graying the eastern horizon, over the ocean as we rolled together under the covers and sleep overcame us.

It was after two in the afternoon when I came to. I was still in Irene's bed, covered with a sheet. I heard the TV in the living room and assumed that's where I would find her. I had to pee so I made the trip to the head, first, and then stuck my head through the door to see Irene and another woman sitting together on the sofa. My clothes were draped on the back of a chair across from them. I debated walking through the room naked, crusted in cum from the night before, especially with a stranger sitting in the room. I had decided to have a shower and find a towel to wrap in when the two women came together in a torrid kiss. I watched as they played tongue tag and figured, what the hell, I wasn't going to bother two necking old broads. I stepped into the shower, dried off and strode into the room toweling my hair and did the 'Oops, I'm sorry' line when I saw them on the couch.

Irene was wedged between the other woman's thighs, slobbering wetly into her juicy cunt. The other woman was obviously enjoying Irene's tongue, because she experienced a huge orgasm while I was putting my pants on. The two women had finished their little scene and Irene turned and was embarrassed when she saw that I had been watching them.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," she wailed.

"No problem, Sugar," I assured her. "I've witnessed females in action many times, and it's always a pleasure."

"Who's your friend?" the other woman asked Irene.

"Sorry. Marion, this is Virgil," she said.

I extended my hand and said, "A pleasure."

"The pleasure is all mine," Marion gushed as she took my hand. "Nice cock."

I looked down and sure enough, I hadn't finished pulling my pants up when I started watching them and my dick was still hanging out of my fly. My turn to be embarrassed. "Sorry," I stammered.

"Don't be, Honey. Bring it over here and let me see it," Marion begged.

I took two steps forward. She was still sitting on the couch. She reached up and gathered me into her tiny, wrinkled hand and pulled me to her lips. She sucked me in and gave me a splendid blowjob. I bathed her tonsils with a great glob of man milk. Irene sat and smiled as she watched us. She lit two cigarettes and handed one to Marion. I tucked myself into my pants and found my shirt. Irene's white lace panties were tucked into the pocket of my shirt.

Irene walked me to my car and kissed me on the cheek. "See you tonight, Cowboy."

"You got it," I said and climbed in and drove away.

--------

I motored back to Islands Estates. It was a gorgeous day and it was almost over already. Louise and Camille had taken up residence out by the pool. Louise told me that Marie had driven up to Jacksonville to look at an old organ she had seen in the paper and would meet us at St. Augustine later. She also chuckled when she told me that Marie had spent the night down in the boathouse with Dennis. I thought that was great and Camille agreed with me.

I went downstairs to clean up and change. I showered and went into the video control room to run the tape I had made of Helen and Marie yesterday. The quality of the tape was far superior to that of the smaller, hand held cameras. It was also much higher fidelity sound. Each and every whisper and slurp was evident on the tape. Using overhead mics would enhance the sound even more. I was learning more about the equipment every time out.

I wandered around the stage room for a while trying to picture how I wanted the studio to look. I was still unsure of what to do but I was getting more ideas all the time. I heard the door open and Camille walked into the room. She came over and we chatted about my progress and she mentioned a new type of sound insulation and we agreed to drive to Orlando and check on the product next week.

Camille was happy. Her offices were coming along and she informed me that her period had not started so she was hopeful that she was pregnant. I was warming to the idea but it was still hard to grasp. We hugged and she was gone. I dressed and went up to say goodbye to the girls before I left for the gig. Louise gave me a big sloppy kiss and I patted her fanny and departed for St. Augustine.

Arriving at The White Lion, I was greeted by Gail's sister, Darlene. She was all smiles and had just tacked Bob's picture of the band on the billboard by the front door. We all looked spiffy in our flowered shirts. Marie had arrived before me and was all bubbly with news of her trip to Jacksonville. She had gone to a surf shop at the beach and found us some more great shirts. She showed them to me and I asked who paid for them and she whined around and finally she told me that Louise had given her the money for the first shirts but that she had bought these herself. I bitched at her for spending her own money and gave her what she had paid for them back and made her promise that she wouldn't spend any more of her own money like that again. She accused me of treating her like a child and I assured her that no child behaved like she does.

She stuck her tongue out at me and I swatted her on the butt.

"Did you get laid last night?" she asked.

"You got nose trouble?" I asked back.

She stood with her fists on her hips. I shrugged and said, "I got laid. And blown again this morning. How about you?"

"I got laid. And fucked in the ass too," she whispered.

"Good for you," I said.

"Dennis is getting a little bolder too," she said. "He stuck his fingers up my butt and really did a fantastic tongue job on my snatch."

"He'll be all full of himself tonight," I said. We laughed.

"I found a great deal on an old Hammond B-3 organ with two Leslie cabinets. This guy named Morrell, up in Jacksonville, had it listed in the paper. I tried it and it's fantastic. I want us to go look at it and see if you think it's something we can incorporate into the band," she told me.