Kissing Cousins Ch. 2

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It didn’t take long to figure out Denise’s modus operandi, or so I thought. The day after our “date” she was friendly enough, but by the third day I could see she had set her sights on Dave Wilken. It was pretty obvious from the way she always happened to be around him. When I saw the two of them heading over to the restaurant for lunch, the thought that our encounter had been just a one-night stand came home to me. It bothered me a bit since I really liked her and the sex had been outstanding, fantastic really, but I had been warned in advance and was a big enough boy to understand what was going on.

“I hear your girlfriend is hanging all over Wilken like a cheap suit in a hurricane,” Chuck kidded me that afternoon.

“Easy come, easy go,” I said trying to sound flip, even though it hurt a little.

“I wonder if I have a chance at that,” Chuck mused.

“Bring your stepladder and get in line,” I replied to my short buddy.

By Friday night, I had pretty much forgotten about it, or at least had put it out of mind. I’ve grown used to how life moves with you or without you, and besides, the band had a weekend gig at the Painted Pony and we had always had a great time there. Of course, the fact that Friday night was the unofficial singles night and there would be all sorts of available young women may have had something to do with it as well.

The evening started out well and only got better. Our soundman, Donny, had everything tweaked just right and had even set up some extra stage lights to play around with. The rhythm section, Danny on drums and Rick on bass, were tight as a full keg. My old pal Ray, who played keyboards and guitar, and I had a blast trading licks as we blasted through our first set of current hits. Early in the first set we liked to show off a bit and play our dueling lead guitar act during an old Lynrd Skynrd hit. We were a decent bar band; we knew how to get the crowd on their feet and keep them dancing. The bar owners liked that since active dancers became active drinkers.

It was toward the end of our second set when I noticed a pair of familiar figures taking up a table just off the dance floor on my side of the room. When I was able to get a good look, I could clearly make out the long tall outline of Denise Jacobs. As the lights brightened up I could see her companion was her cousin, Jackie. I nodded in their direction and they lifted their glasses in a toast. As Ray introduced the next song as a Lady’s Choice and urged the women in the crowd to select their dance partner, I was surprised to see Denise and Jackie get up and move out onto the dance floor together. Understandably they were the only same-sex couple in this very traditional middle class neighborhood bar, but then no one else seemed to mind.

Certainly not me, since they moved to the dance floor right in front of me and began to dance, each one taking turns facing me and shaking her thing. Denise was very athletic, moving and swaying her tall body to the music very smoothly and expressively. Jackie moved in a way I could only say was exotic. I thought maybe because of her Lebanese heritage that she had taken belly-dancing lessons at some point. She moved her arms almost as if forming letters of the alphabet, and her shoulders and waist and hips were constantly moving, never remaining in a straight line.

As the song continued and the girls continued to dance in front of me, I took an extended solo, as was my wont, feeding off the energy I felt coming from these two delightful ladies. My fingers pushed at the guitar strings, bending them sharply, my wrist rocking wildly to add as much vibrato as I could. The wailing, soaring notes screamed out of the amplifier. As I bent over my axe, I dropped down to a knee to wring out the last weeping notes of the solo before jumping right up and the band swung into the last chorus. The crowd went crazy over the added histrionics (they usually did) and my little fan club applauded wildly, sort of hoping up and down as they clapped. Although a couple of guys had wandered out and asked them to dance, it looked as though they declined and stayed out on the floor to dance together. After the set was over, I made a point of going over to join them at their table.

“So what do you think?” I asked, pulling an empty chair over and slipping my butt into it, and scooted up next to Denise.

“You guys are great!” Denise said with a big grin.

Jackie was more reserved, simply nodding in agreement and flashing a modest little smile. When I tried to slip my arm around Denise however, she seemed to pull away and I pulled my arm back down.

“So do you two go out dancing much?” I asked.

“Every chance we get,” Denise answered. “We have a lot of fun with it.”

“I could see that you had some guys interested.”

“Yeah, but if you let them dance with you, then they think they’re going to get someplace,” Jackie said. “I’d rather shoot them down right away than give ’em false hope.”

“Gee, that’s nice of you,” I remarked.

“Unless Escort Esenyurt they’re really, really cute and want to buy us drinks all night,” Denise added. “Then I’ll wait until we’re ready to leave to brush ’em off.”

“You’re just a real ball breaker, are you?” I said, smiling. She didn’t look amused. “But then variety is the spice of life. The more the merrier and so on.”

“So how long have you been playing?” Jackie asked, thankfully changing the subject.

“Ever since I was a kid. Started with the sax, then piano for a while. But I soon figured out that the guitar player gets the girls and that made up my mind.”

“It works for me,” Jackie replied.

Ray slipped over by me and caught my attention.

“Hey, it looks like I gotta go check in with the band,” I said, getting up. “Are you two staying for a while?”

“Maybe a little longer,” Denise said, while Jackie looked at her watch.

“Is there anything you want to hear?”

“Do you know ‘Moondance’?” Jackie asked.

“The Van Morrison tune? Yeah, we know that. Don’t play it much.”

“That’s my favorite song,” she said, her green eyes twinkling.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I replied before moving off with Ray.

A couple of tunes into the next set, I announced ‘Moondance’ and the Jacobs girls got up to dance again. As the tune went on, Jackie worked her way over to stand right in front of me, her curvy body swaying with the music. I smiled down at her as I strummed along and joined in to harmonize with Ray’s vocals. Her eyes didn’t leave me for the rest of the song and I was captured by her look. Although Denise and a dozen other lovely women were on the floor dancing, there was only one woman, this short curvy dark haired woman with the green eyes, bending and swaying seductively for me. Ray normally played a nice little solo but didn’t mind when I joined in behind him noodling a little melody behind what he was doing.

The crowd erupted with applause when we finished and Ray and I both took bows. When I looked up I saw the girls heading back through the crowd toward their table. Later when I shot a look over to their table, someone else had taken their seats and I wrote off my disappointment in the name of experience. Besides there was always Saturday night and more fresh faces.

Saturday is date night at the Painted Pony. Presumably all the couples who hooked up on Friday night come back to show off on Saturday. Instead of groups of two or three girls or guys, there were dozens of couples out for the night. But there are usually a lot of available ladies as well. The band ripped through the first set and got the dance floor loaded up during the second. After we finished it up, I stepped over to the bar to grab a cold one and head out to party with my band mates. As I leaned against the bar waiting for the bartender to uncap the longneck, a familiar voice called out to me from along the bar.

“Robby! Robby!”

I looked in that direction, caught a glimpse of some dark hair and green eyes, grabbed the beer and made my way down to say hello.

“Hello, Robby,” said Jackie. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m doing great,” I said looking around for Denise. “Where’s Denise?”

“Who knows?” she replied. “I came here alone. Can we find a table or something? It’s awfully crowded up here.”

There weren’t any empty tables but we found a spot off in a corner where there were a couple of empty chairs at a counter along one side of the room. I couldn’t help but check her out as we slipped up into our chairs. She was wearing a beautiful black silk blouse with an exotic red and blue print, and a pair of black slacks that accentuated her tiny waist and the curves of her breasts above and hips below. She crossed her long legs and took a long sip from her drink.

“I must admit I’m a little surprised to see you here tonight,” I remarked.

“So am I, but Freddie had a bunch of his nerdy friends over that I really don’t care for and I just wanted to get out of the house.”

“Well this place is about as far out of the house as you can get.”

“I know. I just started out going for a drive, but somehow I kept thinking of you playing down here and the next thing I knew I’m pulling in the parking lot.”

“I’m flattered,” I laughed.

“Don’t be. You’re not the reason I’m here.”

“So why are you here? Is it Freddie?”

“Partly. Partly my own doing too,” she said sadly. Her lovely green eyes were no longer smiling. “He’s okay, but I keep asking myself why did it have to be him I was supposed to marry? Why couldn’t there be another cousin or something?”

“Your marriage wasn’t arranged, was it? I mean in this day and age I wouldn’t think that they do that here in this country.”

“No, it wasn’t really arranged,” she said looking away. “Suggested to me maybe, but it was my choice. I thought he was just a bit eccentric, but it only gets worse.” She looked as if she were going to continue on, but looked back at me. “But you’re Escort Avcılar not here to hear about that.”

“I don’t mind. I always thought he was a twit. Then after meeting you, I would think twit or not, if I was married to you, I’d be the happiest guy alive.”

“Really? Because you think I’m pretty or sexy?”

“For starters, yeah, but there’s more. You seem to know what you want and where you’re going. I love strong women. I don’t like pushovers.”

“You like Denise.”

“She’s easy, not a pushover. Besides I think she and I are through.”

“Maybe, but she gave me a real good report on you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, she said you were attentive and loving and gentle when you had to be, but could dish it out when it counted.”

“What else did she say about me?”

“There were a couple of other things but this may not be the place to discuss them.”

“So are you going to stick around tonight?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t plan on going home early, if that’s what you mean,” she replied.

“Maybe we can play ‘Moondance’ for you again,” I suggested.

“How about something else? Do you guys know any Billy Joel?”

“A couple.”

“How about ‘Just The Way You Are’?”

“Ray does a really nice job on that one.”

“I’d like that.”

She did hang around and part way through the next set found her dancing right in front of me, her arms up over her head. She turned around a couple of times and when she turned back to face me, I could see that her blouse had opened up more than halfway down to her waist showing off her little black bra and the wonderful jiggling curves of her breasts. She held her arms up, her long black hair swirling about her head, her green eyes sparkling, and her gorgeous hips swaying in beat to the music. She tilted her head about and licked her lips slowly and sensuously.

She remained standing between the songs and when a guy wandered up to ask her for a dance, she turned him away. When we launched into the Billy Joel tune, she began to sway in such an exotic way, her hips moving in luscious circles, her arms waving erotically, turning me on so badly that I nearly missed a chord change. She kept her eyes focused on me for the entire song, swaying back and forth. I knew she was telling me something by her dancing, the suggestive way she moved, and the way her eyes looked deeply into mine.

Why is this me, I began to think. Why me, of all people? Sure, there is that certain mystique about musicians that attracts some women, but I had never been anything but polite toward her, always the friendly, loyal employee. But maybe it was her; maybe there was something about her that she hadn’t told me, that she hadn’t admitted to herself, something that was making her reach out to me. And would I let her use me? Or was there something in this for me?

Too quickly the song was nearly over, but I stepped up to the front of the stage, as close to the edge as I could come without falling off, and played the last few strains of the melody. These were notes that were originally written for piano, notes that I had reluctantly learned, and perhaps just for this occasion, for when I put all of my touch and feel into them, a dreamy look poured over her, and the rest of the room melted away. It was as if for those precious few moments just the two of us existed and the world stood still.

The applause from the audience jerked me out of the reverie I had fallen into. Ray introduced the next song, which was a hot charging, rock and roller, but Jackie remained right in front of me, close to the stage. She wasn’t again bothered by any of the lone wolves who by this time had probably picked up on the fact that her designs lay elsewhere. She waited for me after the set was over and we found another spot at the counter.

“Don’t you have a dressing room?” she asked.

I laughed. “This ain’t no Bing Crosby movie, Darling,” I replied. “They don’t have dressing rooms in these places, unless you count the men’s room or the back alley where the band parties.”

I ordered a round of drinks and tried hard not to notice that she still hadn’t buttoned her blouse. As she leaned forward toward me, her luscious tits struggled to free themselves from her little black bra.

“You sure know how to dance,” I remarked, looking into her marvelous green eyes.

“And you know how to play the kind of music that gets me up to dance.”

“I love to watch you dance,” I said. “I’m sure it’s been worth the cover charge for all of the lone wolves over by the bar.”

“Of course, it’s nice that I’m sitting with you,” she said. “Maybe they’ll take the hint.”

“You never told me why you’re here, Jackie. There has to be a reason and I’m dying to know.”

“It’s a long story, and I’m not sure that you really would want to know.”

“Try me. Talk to me.”

She looked down at her drink and lifted it to her full lips to take a sip. She set it back down and spun the ice around with the swizzle stick. She was stalling, I could tell. What was so bad that she had ended up here with me?

“Like I said, it’s a long story. Freddie isn’t the easiest guy to live with, and you really don’t know the half of it. I went into my marriage with the greatest of expectations. Maybe that’s the problem. From our wedding night on, it’s become more and more of a nightmare. I’ve tried everything to get him to open up with me, I dressed up, I went nude, I dressed like a whore. Nothing has worked.”

As this beautiful woman began to pour out her soul to me, a feeling of such sadness crept over me. When I saw tears begin to form in her eyes, I found myself trying to blink my own away.

“He just has no drive, no interest. When I asked him bluntly for sex, he told me he thought it was all over-rated and that I should take a cold shower. It was a nightmare!”

“Is he gay?” I asked, feeling a bit indelicate.

“I wish that was it,” she said with a laugh, a very sad laugh. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Isn’t it supposed to be the guy who want to consummate the marriage and the woman who turns him away?”

“It isn’t supposed to be either one,” I said trying to commiserate with her. “It should be mutually beneficial. Didn’t you two get it on before you were married?”

“No. Can you believe it? We kissed and petted a few times but there was no sex. There was no mention of it. I thought it was just his straight religious upbringing. But then when his uncle hit on me at the wedding, I knew I was in trouble.”

“What? Joe hit on you?”

“During the dollar dance. Can you believe it?”

I sat back in my chair thinking, what kind of fools and jerks was I working for anyway?

“I think you were right,” I remarked. “I may not want to know all of this.”

“It’s true, and it’s only gotten worse,” she said picking up her glass and taking a long sip. A drop fell from her lips onto her blouse and she reached her hand down to brush it away. Her breast jiggled. “Look at me! Throwing myself at the first decent guy to come along. Maybe I should leave.”

She started to get up, but I grabbed her arm and held on tightly.

“No, don’t go, Jackie,” I said firmly. “I want you to stay.”

“I don’t know,” she said trying to pull away.

“Come on, Jackie. Please stay. I want you to stay with me!”

She paused for a moment, her sweet ass poised a few inches off the chair. She looked at me first, then toward the door, then back down to her near empty drink, and finally back at me. A pair of tears had rolled down her cheeks. I gestured with my free hand toward the chair and she slowly eased her butt back down. I felt this overwhelming need to reach out to her, to touch her, so I raised my hand and tried to brush away her tears. She leaned toward me, pressing her cheek into my hand. She pulled out a tissue and daubed at her eyes.

“Look at me. I’m a mess!” she said with a sniffle.

“I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman in my life,” I said, letting my fingertips reach around behind her neck and pull her face close to mine. “And your husband is the biggest fool for not realizing it.”

She began to smile, faintly at first, then as it crept across her face, the eyes began to twinkle again. She rested her hand against mine, holding it to her cheek.

“Thank you, Robby,” she said softly. “Thank you for understanding.”

We sat for a few moments like that, exchanging a look I had never known.

“I think I need to excuse myself to the powder room,” she said, clutching at her purse.

“Stay for the next set, okay?” I said as she stood up.

“I will,” she replied and then slipped through the crowd toward the restrooms.

The band had started to filter back into the room, greeting fans and friends, and I got up to join them carousing near the bar.

“So where’s your groupie?” Ray asked.

“Restroom. And she’s not a groupie, she’s my bosses wife.”

“Who-eee!” he said. “You sure know how to live dangerously, Robby!”

As we started to assemble up on the bandstand, I couldn’t see Jackie anywhere. Maybe she had left, maybe she had found someone else, or maybe she had found a reason to be someplace else. I couldn’t let it bother me, for there was a dancehall full of money paying customers and I just loved keeping them entertained.

With a count of four, we swung into the last set, which was special because we saved all of our best tunes, especially the dance tunes. Then at one point early in the set, Jackie moved out from the shadows and began to dance right in front of me again. Her hair was gorgeous from having been freshly brushed, her makeup had been touched up, and I couldn’t help by notice that her blouse was still opened up but that her bra has disappeared. As she raised her arms above her head in one of her exotic dance moves, her breasts began to break free and I could clearly see first one then the other swaying free as she did this dance for me, this beautiful Lebanese princess. As I got a little wilder in my guitar playing, she got more suggestive in her dancing. As I pulled and bent the strings to make my guitar cry, she wriggled and swayed and moved her body in such a way that I nearly cried.

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