When the SUV pulled up near the oversize garage, Shelly looked over to her manager Mark with a strained expression on her face. Without a word, her face broadcasted everything she wanted to say.
"Look Shelly, we both agreed you needed to broaden your sound, this is an excellent opportunity."
"Are we here because it's an excellent opportunity or because it's free?"
"Both. You know the agency doesn't have the cash to line everyone up with a full backup band, at least not until you can pull together some record deal."
"But how can I get a record deal without a band?" Shelly asked.
"Look, I know they're not professionals, but I've heard this band's pretty good. If they work for you we can even run some demos here."
"In the garage?"
"From what I've heard they've got some pretty good electronics."
"Okay, but if this is just some garage band we're turning around and leaving, right."
"Just give them a chance."
Mark watched as Shelly opened the door and climbed out of the vehicle. The sun caught her auburn hair, lighting it up like a fire. Following her up the drive he couldn't help admire her self-confidence. Though only nineteen, she had the self-assurance of a woman twice her age. When she wanted something, she was not afraid to reach out to grab it. On occasion she failed, but that never stopped her from reaching.
When Shelly was about halfway up the drive, the silence from the garage was mowed down with the distinctive sound of bluegrass. Mark prepared himself to catch Shelly as she ran back to the truck, but was surprised when she slowed, but didn't turn around. It was as if she was mesmerized by the twang of the banjoes and the rhythms of the sound.
Catching up to Shelly, Mark walked slowly beside her as they moved silently to the large open door, where they stood and quietly listened. After a minute or two, in the middle of the song, suddenly one of the band members raised his hand and waved them all to stop. He held his guitar out until another member grabbed it and set it in a stand.
The band member then stood up from his stool with the rest of the band following his every move. From behind, Shelly and Mark could see he was an older man, but it was not until he turned around that they could see how old he really looked.
His cowboy hat covered his head, but the thin wisps of white hair that poked out was a clear hint that he was balding, if not fully bald. The man's nose and ears seemed much too large for his small, round face. Looking into his eyes, Shelly saw only a cloudy white confirming her suspicion that he was blind.
He suddenly called out, "Do we have visitors?"
"Ah, yes sir, I'm Mark Dunsmore from Hitchward Agency..."
"You brought along a young lady?"
"Yes, one of our star vocalist, Shelly Bryan."
"Ah, we've been expecting you, two, three, four...," the old man said, while the band began playing. "You recognize this one?"
"It's an old one," Shelly replied, "but yeah, it's Clapton's 'Bell Bottom Blues.'"
"Well, Bobby Whitlock actually wrote it, but it's listed by Derek and the Dominoes. You know the words?"
"Sure," she answered, picking up with the band:
"Do you want to hear me beg you to take me back? I'd gladly do it because I don't want to fade away. Give me one more day, please. I don't want to fade away. In your heart I want to stay."
(1)
Waving his arms, the band stopped playing and the man turned toward Shelly and said, "I am proud to meet you Shelly Bryan. I'm Willie Norris," he said holding out his hand toward the young lady.
Noticing the slight shaking of his hand, Shelly took it with both hands and shook, surprised on how soft the man's hands were. Sure the fingertips were calloused, but the rest of the hand was so smooth and soft. She could see odd blue veins beneath the skin, but his handshake was firm. "Hmm, firm and soft, when have I felt that on a man before," Shelly thought to herself.
Holding his arm out to her now, Willie said, "Now, if you help me a bit here, I'll introduce you to the rest of the Medicaid Swing Band." Slipping her arm into Willie's, Shelly led him to each of the band members where they had a short talk, before moving onto the next musician.
They finished the introductions after about half an hour and Shelly led him back to the stool. Willie carefully sat down, reached down and grabbed his guitar. He glanced at Shelly and asked, "'Bell Bottom Blues' from the start?"
Grabbing a microphone from a nearby stand she said, "Sounds good," into the mike. The microphone was on, so she prepared herself to begin. She looked over to Willie.
Willie quickly whispered to her, "We're gonna go ahead and record. It's just jamming, so if we mess it up we'll just keep going for now, okay?"
Shelly nodded and Willie said, "'Bell Bottom Blues,' two, three, four..." and the band began to play.
Mark, glad to slip into the background moved over to the recording equipment, shook the hand of the technician and settle into a seat beside him. He had talked to Willie earlier and the two had worked out a list of songs Shelly was ready to sing at the time. During the session, Willie even pulled out the lyrics to a couple of classic bluegrass songs and after a few tries, Shelly was singing them almost as good as the songs she knew already.
After about three hours of almost non-stop music, Willie shut down the band and said, "Okay everyone, in tribute to our special guests, we have catered dinner. Go ahead and fold things up here and head over to the back yard, we've got some crawdads and barbeque going."
Helping Willie put his guitar on the stand, Shelly led him out of the garage and over to the picnic area, where the two sat together at a table, along with Mark, the sound guy and a few of the other band members. As the group talked of the recording and what they were looking for on the demos, Shelly studied Willie.
Although he limped a bit, she could tell he was pretty fit, at least for his apparent age. She would have guessed he was sixty – sixty-five, but later was informed by another band member he was seventy-five. He had a broad chest, but a fairly trim stomach, with nice hips and, with the cut of these jeans, a fairly nice ass for an old guy.
Trying to associate him with her grandfather, she noticed some similarities but was attracted to the differences, primarily the hands. Wondering what the hands might feel like on her, she felt a wetness accumulating between her legs. She excused herself to head to the restroom and try to get herself back under control.
Once in the restroom, she quickly went to the bathroom, cleaned up and then sat on the toilet thinking of Willie's hands. After a moment or so, she opened her legs wide and slipped her hand down to her crotch. Moving a finger into the opening, she moistened her finger and then slid it up her slit and found her clit. Closing her eyes, she slowly began circling her tiny nub with her finger, dreaming of Willie's hands on her ass, feeling the soft palms along with the calloused fingertips.
Imagining his tongue teasing her clit, she continued, slowly moving her hips up to meet his face. She returned her finger to her cunt to wet it some more and then quickly returned to her clit. Moving faster she...
"Knock, knock, anyone in there?" came a voice from the bathroom door. "Sorry to disturb you, but I've had too much beer and well... well, I'm about to pop here."
"Oh, okay, just as second," she replied, pulling on her panties and pants, then slipping into her shoes. She quickly flushed the toilet, washed her hands and opened the door.
Milo, the bass player rushed past her, not waiting for her to shut the door before undoing his pants. As she closed the door she could hear him moan to the tinkling music of him peeing into the toilet. Giggling she headed downstairs.
Not wanting to get back in the middle of the technical discussions regarding the recordings and demos, Shelly headed back to the garage. The large doors were closed so she stepped in a side door into darkness. Pausing while her eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the garage, she heard a faint strumming on a guitar. Looking further into the garage, she saw Willie holding his guitar.
He stopped playing and said, "Come on in Shelly."
"How did you know..."
"You think I could spend all afternoon with you and not remember your beautiful scent?"
"Christ," she thought, "I'm not wearing any perfume." Quickly sniffing beneath her arms she moved toward him.
"I think it may be your shampoo," he said, as if he realized what she was doing.
She moved over closer to him and he handed her his guitar. Carefully placing it on the stand she said, "You're not out there talking about the recording."
"No, they finished talking music, now they are talking tech stuff. I figured I'd come out and strum a bit."
"Rehearsing?"
"No, writing a song, the music at least."
