Road Trip

... continuing from the previous chapters ...

Chapter 22

Texas

Crystal bounded into the living room of the suite I'd found reserved for us at the Four Seasons when I arrived the evening before; she launched herself into my arms. I caught her without falling over, and we hugged and kissed each other over and over. Behind her, a hotel bellhop slowly removed her luggage and one of her guitars from a cart, piling up things in one corner of the spacious living room.

As I hugged her, I told Crystal, "I have missed you so. Somehow, we've got to see each other more often than every few weeks. I think we've even been lucky so far with our schedules."

Crystal kissed me passionately, "Me too. We need to figure out a way to be famous and for you to take the rest of your road trip. We'll talk about it later, after I fuck your brains out."

The bellhop looked highly interested at Crystal's words, but dutifully stood by the luggage and his empty cart trying to keep his gaze off of us as we fawned over each other. Finally, I took the hint. I pulled a twenty from my wallet and gave it to him. I got a big smile, and he backed out of the room clearly hoping to catch another scene of us kissing before he pulled the door closed.

Crystal turned to me and said, "Come and make love to me. Before we do another thing, I have wanted you physically and spiritually and in every other way I could think of since we left Branson." She tugged me to the bedroom that opened onto the living room, and that I had obviously used the night before. Another bedroom also shared the space on the other side of the suite. Did someone foolishly think we'd sleep apart? We were known in the press to be an 'item' ever since the day I first met Crystal.

I helped Crystal dispose of her boots and clothing. Just for kicks, she put her western boots back on and posed for me in front of the fake fireplace in the room. I took her picture with my cell phone - a little memento for our next time apart.

I then pulled Crystal to the middle of the bed, we knelt, and I made oral love to her breasts for a while. As I did, Crystal started to undress me with a sense of urgency. I quickly stripped the rest of my clothing off, and in seconds, my cock was embedded deep inside Crystal's warmth. I thought how l felt loved and at 'home' with Crystal, even though I felt homeless and a vagabond during my road trip. Home was being with someone I loved.

We were eager, impatient even, to bring each other pleasure. Remarkably, we restrained ourselves and played for over an hour, each of us occasionally enjoying an orgasm, until I decided to do a 'big cum' into her folds. We synchronized our peaks, and so Crystal went to her heaven as I went to mine and left my essence inside her.

After we had floated down to a more normal physiological state, Crystal pushed me off and sucked me clean. As she finished, she kissed the tip of my penis. She asked, "And how many pussies has Mr. Happy been in since we last fucked? You had a typo in your email about Oklahoma; it made me laugh - you said you fucked thirty-five women. What was it, three or five?" She laughed, and started to masturbate me. I responded well to her ministrations.

I grinned at her and said, "Nope, that wasn't a typo."

Crystal's jaw dropped open. She said, "Surely, you jest." She jabbed me in the ribs, "Come on, give! Details!" She asked, "What'd you do, fuck a whole sorority?" She laughed, and I took that as a good sign, or at least a sign that my ass wasn't grass for getting deep into my 'man slut' role again and fucking so many women - most in one night.

I told her, "No, just most of debutantes at a party in Oklahoma celebrating their coming out, plus a few others - alumni of similar parties in past years."

Crystal was smiling now. "Oh, great! Now, you'd better tell me all the hot, erotic details."

I spent a half hour telling her about the Fine Arts Ball, Heather, the debutantes, the alumni, and the orgy they had after the formal ball. I described particularly the round robin fuck sessions in some of the hotel rooms, and told her that was how I'd built up my 'numbers.' As we talked, the two of us enjoyed a slow fuck.

After that, I passed along more details about my visit to Jed's home in Iowa, and being with Sally, Gail, Lena, Nicky, and Camille. I shared a few new points about Brite, the photographer in Minnesota, plus Mitch and Ashley's wedding pictures - and about the foursome we shared."

Crystal said, "And then you went to the Dakotas, and ran into that tornado?"

I reminded her about my 'concert' and one-night stand with Shaye, the few days with Mils and Connie, and then Midge in Kansas.

Crystal suddenly said with surprise, "Hey, you mean you didn't get laid in Nebraska?"

"Nope," I shook my head.

She punched me. "Well, you are really slacking off. You missed a state. You'd better not do that again. I have high expectations for you, Lover." She laughed, but pumped her hips into my groin a few times, each thrust burying my dick deeper and deeper into her already sodden pussy.

Crystal gave me a shy look, and then began telling me about how she had sex with two guys at a bar she worked at before she became famous, detailing how she got seduced, how she got past the idea there were two guys, and then the pleasures they showered on her body for eight hours until they all had to sleep from exhaustion.

* * * * *

Hours later, Crystal and I sat in the large living room of the suite. We'd dressed, and she wore her western boots, the shortest Daisy Duke shorts in the world, and a loose man's shirt tied in a knot beneath her breasts. My God, she looked sexy. I tried to concentrate on something other than sex as she talked, and that after nearly three hours of non-stop sex.

Crystal told me what she knew about the half-time concert we were to give on Sunday to eighty thousand Dallas Cowboys fans crowded into Cowboy Stadium. My knees shook, and my stomach knotted over the crowd size and the potential for embarrassing myself. She told me the band had arrived and were staying closer to the stadium, because they'd reserved a special room at their hotel to rehearse - something about perfect acoustics. Terry and Ellen were due the next day, and that they would be occupying the other bedroom in our suite.

Crystal and I were the half-time entertainment, singing our two hits and a medley of other country music songs. As the first half ended and the teams left the field, the stadium crew would race into action, creating a stage on the field in fewer than two minutes. Band instruments, props, and lights would be added, plus a large stairway. Crystal's band would take their places and launch into the opening bars of

'Flirty, Flirty Cowgirl,'

Crystal's big hit, that still held onto a place in the Top Ten. Crystal and I would arrive at the stage seconds behind the band; she'd sing most of that hit, and then we'd segue into

'Texas Dawn.'

We'd perform all of that song, and then do the medley - something that we'd have to spend some time rehearsing. We had to pick what we'd do before Friday, so everyone connected with the show would know - us, the band, the stage crew, the lighting crew, sound crew, and on and on. As we finished, there'd be fireworks over the stadium, Crystal and I would wave and race off stage, followed by the band members. The roadies would strip away the instruments, amps, and stage, and the second half of the football game would start exactly thirty minutes after the first half ended.

We ran through the schedule a couple of times, talking our way through the steps we'd go through until we'd internalized what the twenty-six-minute halftime would be like for us.

Crystal said, "What songs should we do in the medley after our openers? What would you like to sing?"

I went to one of my saddlebags from the motorcycle, and pulled out my laptop and some crumpled pieces of paper that had somehow managed to survive through the tornado in Kansas.

I turned to Crystal, "I've been writing music in my spare time. I don't know whether it's any good, but I'd love to play it for you. I think it'd be a good duet. It'd need a few words of introduction in the stadium, particularly since no one would have heard it before and the song has a real American Indian flavor to it. If you don't like it, I can save it for something I do alone some other time."

Crystal urged me to sing the song so she could see what it was all about. I picked up my small travel guitar, adjusted the strings, and then started in on the song I'd written,

'The Wolf On Lone Wolf Mountain'

starting with the chorus: "There's a wolf on Lone Wolf Mountain, Keeps me awake most every night. He leads me along the paths, To places I need to go."

Crystal seemed spellbound during my short song. When it was over, she came and kissed me in a very tender way. "Jim, you have talent at this. I love it. May I sing this with you?"

I nodded and said, "That was my hope. You mean you like it?"

Crystal kissed me and said, "Absolutely. It's great, and about time we got some Native American flavor to some of our repertoire."

We messed around with the song for an hour, changed the key as well as few words and notes so we could blend our voice better as we sang. Our duet sounded better and better. We agreed we should get other opinions, for instance from Terry, about the song.

* * * * *

Thursday morning, Crystal and I rode my motorcycle to Cowboy Stadium for a rehearsal and to familiarize us with the set and surroundings. She knew that a dry run for the set up crew had been scheduled for ten o'clock. Crystal and I seemed unusually bubbly and excited about the day, a point I chalked up to us being together again.

Stadium security let us ride the Harley right into the arena, with the admonition to stay off the playing surface. I parked at the end of the tunnel just at the edge of the field. A few Dallas Cowboy players were warming up, loosely running plays without any hard physical contact.

A golf cart came down the sideline at us as we walked towards the fifty-yard line. I broke into a smile as I recognized one of the two people in the cart - Tina Devoe, a woman I'd given a first-class sexual massage to at a spa in Michigan about two months earlier. She got out of the cart with an older man who I didn't know. As introductions were made Tina gave me a lip lock and kiss that melted some of the Astroturf around the two of us. Just before we parted, Tina whispered in my ear, "I want us to get together while we're here - and you know what I mean!" Just the thought of that activity gave me a twinge in my nether region.

Crystal looked amused. Tina was about fifty, looked thirty, oozed sex appeal, and had a body movie stars would die for. I noticed some of the crew and band members leering at her. She wore tight jeans that left little to the imagination, spike heels - my favorite, and a designer top that had apparently been designed to reveal almost all of the wearer's generous tits. Tina had generous tits; I knew firsthand - I'd massaged them until Tina had an orgasm.

As our kiss broke, Crystal grinned and said, "I knew you guys would like to see each other again. This is a treat to meet one of your Michigan 'acquaintances.'"

Since I'd met her, we'd discovered that Tina Devoe had a job 'high up' in Sony Entertainment. I wasn't sure what that meant, but I suspected she'd fast-tracked the release of my music album entitled

'Road Trip'

from Sony music. The album had been available online and in stores for a couple of weeks. Tina congratulated me on my album breaking into the top ten in that short time period, something I didn't know. Some duets with Crystal were also on the album.

Alan Roswell, the gentleman who had ridden up with Tina, turned out to be responsible for the half-time entertainment on behalf of the Dallas Cowboys, who managed the stadium for the City of Arlington - the stadium owners. About sixty years of age, he wore glasses with coke bottle lenses and sported a short gray ponytail. I thought he might be gay, since - unlike every other male in sight - he displayed little interest in either Tina or Crystal's hot bodies.

Alan walked us through his expectations for the halftime show, a description that meshed perfectly with what Crystal had told me the previous afternoon. He'd called for a dry run by the roadies and some of our band members so they could assess the set up of the mid-field stage and all that went into having the show ready to launch in a matter of seconds after the game stopped at half time.

About that time, twenty young men and women between the ages of twenty and thirty walked out from one of the tunnels giving access to the field. They all wore silver t-shirts with the blue Cowboy's star and the word 'Crew' on the back in large letters. Three of the men in the group came over and joined us; Alan informed us they were squad leaders. Alan had a few words with them, and then they started with their rehearsal.

Crystal, Tina, and I watched as the three squads maneuvered several portable platforms in front of the stands, behind where the Cowboys players' bench stood. Alan nodded to them, blew a shrill whistle, started a stopwatch, and the crew went into motion.

Sections of the stage poured onto the field from the sidelines. Some were carried, and others were on large dollies. The squads moved at a run. Vertical sections were flipped over, legs dropped, and somehow in seconds a large stage materialized before our eyes. From one of the tunnels a large wide-tired forklift truck appeared carrying an eight-foot square platform with the band's amps, keyboards, and a drum set, ready to play except for the electrical hookups. The platform was set atop part of the newly erected stage, and the forklift folded over and neatly tucked itself beneath the stage. One crewmember brought an electrical cable from the sidelines to the stage and in one single move connected the stage to the stadium for power and sound.

As the crew ran off the field, a couple of our band members hustled up the newly erected stairs onto the stage, and pulled their instruments into position from the large pallet. Seconds later, I heard the opening bars to

'Flirty, Flirty Cowgirl.'

Beside us, Alan clicked his watch to a stop, glanced at the dial, and yelled to the sidelines, "Yes! Wonderful everyone. That took two minutes eight seconds - a record. If you can do this Sunday, we'll all be very happy." The crew looked proud, and clearly valued his praise. I saw several give each other high fives.

Alan turned to us and said with a smile, "OK, get up there. Try it out."

Crystal and I ran across the field, up the stairs, and onto the stage. I looked around and nearly froze. Suddenly, I imagined eighty thousand fans yelling and cheering in the stands - looking at me. They were eighty thousand critics. I felt my knees shake again. I wasn't used to this stuff.

Crystal picked up our wireless mics, and handed one to me. She broke into the opening bars of

'Flirty Cowgirl.'

I waited and tried to get into the music. About three minutes later, I heard the band segue to

'Texas Dawn.'

I moved up beside Crystal, and we started the duet. My voice cracked, and the echo around the stadium made me stutter and pause awkwardly. I tried to focus on the music, and things got a little bit better, but it wasn't a stellar performance - Crystal carried the day.

We took a break in our singing after

'Texas Dawn.'

Crystal insisted to Alan that we both get fitted with a headset that blocked the delayed sound so I could only hear my own voice and not the confusing reverberations in the stadium. I'd worn one like that at the two concerts I'd given a couple of months earlier, and had done all right. Alan made a cell phone call, and in five minutes a young woman came racing across the field with the requisite headsets.

While we'd waited for the headset, Crystal and I had walked the band through the music I envisioned for the song I wrote,

'The Wolf on Lone Wolf Mountain.'

As I put the headset on, Clark Reynolds, the lead guitar player, said, "Hey, let's try this new one, and see how close we can get on it." There were a few test cords and transitions the band tinkered with, as I sang a verse here and there without the amplification to give them a taste of the song.

Clark flicked a dozen switches on his mixer, and my new headset went 'live'; and the band started the introduction to my song. Crystal and I were both playing acoustic guitars. The two of us sang the new song, and much to everyone's amazement the rendition turned out well given it was the first time through for the band. Some of the crewmembers who had waited for the tear down trial applauded and shouted their appreciation for the song. After that song, Crystal and I did a few others with the band working them into a medley. Gradually, I got used to performing in the large stadium, a luxury I hadn't had at the other two large venues I'd sung at previously. That said, I couldn't imagine what it would be like when it was full of fans.

Alan coached us about how the last song should end, including the pyrotechnics. We ran off the field, and Alan again timed the crew in the tear down activities. The stage disappeared with the same speed it had appeared.

On the sidelines, Tina cornered the two of us; "Where'd that song about the wolf come from; I loved it. It touched me in an interesting way - it has roots with Native Americans, yet it's mystic and had a message. I like it."

Crystal stood tall, turned to me, and announced to Tina, "Jim just wrote it. He's got yet another talent we didn't know about." Then Crystal looked at Tina and grinned like a proud mother.

Tina asked about recording the song so they could release it as a single. I started to answer, and Crystal jumped in and said that our agent, Terry, needed to be in such a discussion. I'd just learned something, so nodded wisely, and Tina apologized for any breach of protocol.

I got interested in part of the sound system and the stage set up, so I wandered around with Alan asking questions. Tina and Crystal seemed to bond quickly, and soon were having a hushed conversation. They frequently looked up and gestured in my direction, often with conspiratorial looks. Twenty minutes later, when I returned to the pair, Crystal said, "I told Tina I knew all about the massage you'd given her when you met in Michigan. I also told her about some of our sexual games and adventures, and our little adventure with the paparazzi in Missouri and the romp with your sister-in-law. I even told her that you liked fucking my sister almost as much as me." She gave me an evil grin, and so did Tina as she joined us. "We've been comparing notes ... notes about your sexual prowess. Now, doesn't that turn you on?"

It did, and I could tell the two of them had made themselves horny too.

As if the thought had made the individuals materialize, Terry and Ellen walked out of one of the portals onto the field. They saw us, waved, and hustled over to us. I made introductions, going so far as to catch Terry's eye and try to signal to him behind Tina's back that Tina was an important person for us. He remembered that Tina was an executive with Sony Entertainment, and an influential person regarding the promotion of our music.

Ellen gave me a sensual kiss and full-frontal hug with hip thrusts. She bluntly whispered in my ear that she wanted some 'cock time' with me. I could feel my erection trying to escape.

After the stage tear-down exercise, Alan announced to us that a buffet lunch had been laid out for everyone in one of the sky boxes; he pointed 'up' towards the stratosphere in the stadium.