Authors: Naima DaCosta
Impulsively Hayley hugged him and kissed his cheek.
He laughed, beaming back at her with a gleam in his eye.
"I think it would be good for him to meet you, he sees very few people."
He looked her over one more time, grinning.
"Even if he's fool enough to say no I think I might just want to call you myself."
She didn't find Michael attractive in the least but she was so grateful, almost drunk with happiness she heard herself agree laughingly.
Hayley was standing at the window at home.It felt as thought she had been watching the clouds move from the winter winds for an eternity, waiting for that phone call.
Her room was illuminated by the single street light outside, and the monochrome blur it created as the broken lines of liquid ebbed and flowed, and the soft staccato of the rolling sound as it bounced off of concrete. It was like a tonic to her restless soul.
The last few days had been a hazy blur of thrilling hope swirling through her with the sharp pangs of fear. Fear of falling asleep and losing a once in a lifetime opportunity.
When the phone rang. She answered it as calmly as she could. Her voice vibrated unnaturally bright and brittle as she heard herself say, "Is this Michael? Yes This is Hayley from the Ballroom.."
Michael heard the shakiness in her voice.
"Stay calm now, he's agreed to meet you..."
Hayley was so relieved it made her feel queasy as all the previous uncertainty drained away from her heart leaving little worried pools rippling with new possibilities in her stomach. She had to sit down on her twin sized bed to absorb the shock.
Her little bachelor apartment and her whole life up to this point seemed so tawdry and laughable when she thought of Jack's successes and her own almost total lack of accomplishment. Hayley wondered what she could possibly do or say to him without seeming small and irrelevant. She held her breath to gather her courage for a second and barely whispered "thank you".
Michael's warm laughter echoed loud in her ear. "Think nothing of it- it was my pleasure.I enjoy sticking my nose in other people's business" he spoke this cheerfully before changing his tone saying earnestly "" a couple of conditions: firstly I'm sure you understand you must go alone and not tell anyone about this" Secondly, Don't actually ask expect him to do anything for you, he hates people asking him for favors and I already promised him it was the farthest thing from your mind. I've given him the idea you simply want to talk about about the craft a bit and absorb whatever he feels like sharing with you about it. thirdly, don't assume he'll ask you to play or express any great interest in your work be prepared to do your best, but don't act like his opinion is the be all, end all" he summed it up sententiously "he's an astute old tomcat, he can smell a rat or a mouse a mile away. he'll be polite but he's not too polite to bite, you understand?"
Hayley absorbed his words, but felt a growing worry. Jack Davis sounded as prickly as a cactus and as cool as a desert wind. She almost wondered if the risk of being humiliated was worth the slim chance that they might hit it off.
"Relax, he's not quite as bad as all that. Just be sincere with him, like you were with me,” Michael purred.
“Oh how your eyes shone when I said his name in front of you the other night.”
“That should do well enough as long as you don't lay it on too thick. I must say, it would seem like Jacky boy has beat me out again but I'm sure I deserve it for some of the tricks I've played on him over the years."
Hayley felt uncomfortable, she knew it was just his way, to talk like that, but he was making it sound as if she was going on a date with Jack, it couldn't have been further from her mind. The worst thing she could possibly do is have some torrid affair with him and then be stuck with him as an enemy for the rest of her career after things fell apart. Irrationally, a part of her still thrilled at the melodrama of the idea until she pushed that foolish fantasy firmly out of her mind. But what if he comes on to me? Will he be just as insulted if I refuse him? She determined she would have to behave as professionally as possible around him. Michael wrapped up the call with a few final words, "oh by the way, I've told him that you're exceptionally bright, unnaturally talented and exotically beautiful besides- good luck!" "wait!" she said helplessly "how could you tell him that?.. you've never heard me.. and we've barely even talked" he seemed greatly amused "Oh I can get the sense these things well enough. Ask Jack- I was the one who first found him, singing in a bar where the P.A. was so bad no one could hear one word of his beautiful lyrics. Ask me someday how I knew they were in there, buried in that wall of sound, somewhere." Michael's parting laughter crackled deep and rich for a second or two before the connection went quiet.
Laying in bed later she shifted around restlessly. It seemed folly to even try to sleep when she was this excited but the last thing she wanted when she met Jack Davis tomorrow was to be too tired to give her best. She lay there thinking of what to do to make herself sleepy. she had already tried reading and she even used google to look up the most boring video she could find. She had made it 45 minutes into a lecture about 17th century trade agreements between the ottoman empire and various countries in central Europe before realizing it was no use. She supposed she could try masturbating. surprised she hadn't thought of it before, She reached into her nightstand for her little purple vibrator before realizing sadly upon trying to turn it on that the batteries were dead and she'd forgotten to buy new ones. She sighed and resolved to do it the old fashioned way She slid her fingers down, brushing past her trim, soft little bush as positioned her hand on her pelvic bone. Now the tips of her fingers brushed her narrow lips, which were pursed together, only slightly moistened and not very sensitive yet. She touched her clit experimentally...it tickled slightly, but sensation in her nerve endings was dull. She was having difficulty feeling her body properly. Hayley's thoughts had been so much on her big day tomorrow, sex seemed so irrelevant.
Hayley lay there dutifully rubbing her clit and pinching one of her nipples with her free hand until her wrist grew tired. She switched hands and continued she ran through her many wicked fantasies about her college composition teacher:
Him sneaking up on her when he she had stayed late to practice, fucking her in the back of the classroom against the piano being forced to suck his cock under his desk while he lectured the class about 16th century motets..
Him pounding her ass with abandon in the bedroom of his house with his wife due home from work any minute these normally always did the trick, but tonight she was having trouble focusing on any of them. All she could think about was her meeting tomorrow with Jack...
Sweaty and still not properly turned on, Hayley took out her phone and brought up the old photo of her old college professor.
“This is all your fault" she thought with annoyance. She felt a tingle. His face smiling at her seemed to loom large in front of her eyes she remembered her brief, earlier thrill at the thought of an affair with him. the tingle became something more...her breath started coming heavy and her hand went back to work She knew it was wrong but she couldn't help it... all she could think about was being ravaged by the strange man who seemed so shadowy and cold... her nipples were hard and pointed, almost swollen... she found that touching them gently sent waves of excitement down to her now dripping pussy.
She thought of Jacks fingers stroking her just so...then of sucking his dick whilst kneeling down under the piano where he wrote his songs..she came instantly. she was surprised because she hadn't felt it coming until a moment before it happened..she wasn't too sensitive so she continued to stroke her self, now thinking about his jack's hard pink manhood..blue veins sticking out...buried in her tight dark pussy...her squeezing him until his balls ached while he slammed into her she rubbed harder, her rhythm frenzied, she groaned and whispered aloud "fuck me Jack Davis...Fuck me, harder... come in me"
Hayley imagined she could feel him exploding inside of her and she shuddered ...coming...once and then again...and again. Even after telling herself it was no different than it had been fantasizing about her teacher in college..she still felt like she had betrayed herself somehow. She also felt sleepy, finally. looking at the photo of him one more time, she closed her eyes and drifted off at last.
Hayley Parker had been lost in her reminiscences of the last week, so surreal and unbelievable. Her surroundings jolted her back to reality. She had reached a cul-de-sac and reading the building numbers, she realized, this must be the place. it sat on one side of a large, mostly empty lot surrounded by a fenced off junkyard. barely visible in the The back of the lot was a high, panelled fence with a sliding gate which was where he probably kept his vehicle. It was an large and unimpressive structure.
A flat topped, painted concrete warehouse, it's single structure was broken up into two units. The right half had boarded up windows and a locked gate in front guarding it's disused door. the unit was covered with peeling red paint and looked derelict. The left half looked relatively well maintained, if somewhat severe. It was painted dark Grey she saw a single unmarked buzzer with a speaker next to as she approached it's clean glass door. She could see another, heavier door only a few feet beyond it. That was as much as she could make out. She looked at her old fashioned wrist watch, the hands read five-fifty nine. She waited for the second hand to finish it's journey before pressing the buzzer at exactly 6pm. Her heart was beating too fast, her mouth felt dry and hands were clammy. In other words, she was nervous as hell. She heard no noise coming from inside from the buzzer so she pressed it again. She was shivering slightly but she didn't want to knock having been told specifically to ring the buzzer. Not wanting to be an annoyance. she walked around the front entrance feeling the chilly air for a minute or two before trying again. this time the speaker came alive.
A strong, polite voice spoke, businesslike .
"Yes?" Hayley felt suddenly calm, rising to the occasion she answered in a steady voice.
"It's Hayley Parker. Michael's friend, I'm a songwriter. Michael made an appointment for me to meet you."
"Oh he did, did he? He paused to check his schedule "Yes I see, I remember now- you're late.
"Hayley said diplomatically, "I'm sorry, this place was a bit hard to find"
He smiled to himself and said with satisfaction.
"Yes it is, Isn't it? you'd better Come in from the cold, then."
There was a loud click as the lock opened. She opened the door and closed it behind her to stand in the narrow foyer. A florescent light flickered above, A heater blasted below. There was nothing to look at but grey walls as she heard his faint footsteps approaching the heavy looking inner door to open it.
It opened as she stood there calmly, ready to face him. He was older, of course, lines around his dark circled eyes. There were uneven patches of gray in his dark medium length hair. Grown out slightly, Still thick and glossy, the front fell down only an inch or so above his eyes, throwing a slight shadow over the top of his face. The main difference Hayley saw immediately between this man's face and the one in the photo was his sardonic demeanor. The hazel eyes were darkened from too much introspection, but a kind of dancing energy peeked out in quiet amusement making the seriousness of his set jaw seem like it was poking fun at itself. He was cool but a steady, potent energy flowed out of his competent, deliberate movements. He smiled hello easily and led her in without shaking her hand or making any formal introductions. She followed, wound up inside, with her own quiet intensity coiled like a spring waiting to be released.
In the dim, moody light her eyes glanced around to see a spare oblong space. in the near corner was a fridge next to sink set in a small counter with a coffee machine drip-dropping away on it. The floors were brushed concrete, matching the ubiquitous gray paint all around. the lowish ceiling had industrial panelling, light came mostly an old track lighting system, which illuminated the room unenthusiastically. halfway across the long narrow room there sat an old black leather couch against one wall, which faced a battered but obviously loved and well maintained upright piano on the other. A little drafting table next to that, littered with score paper and half finished lyrics, was angled so that one could easily slide over to write on it without moving off of the Piano bench.
On a side table next to the couch were several bottles of liquor and a half empty carton of cigarettes. Several old ashtrays, the standing kind that looked like they came from an old hotel or movie theatre were scattered around the room and looked as full as one would expect, given the stale, acrid smell that pervaded the room. A little farther away a plain wooden chair sat near a wall where several guitars hung on brackets next to an old humidifier.
The far wall had gigantic speakers mounted high up on them. they were angled slightly facing downward at large modular desk space desk which had a a couple of large flat-screens as it's main fixture. several keyboards and modules stacked were opposite it. a large rack mounted set of amplifiers with a compact mixing desk atop was set at a height for for easy access while working. The worn out, comfortable looking desk chair sat in the between on wheels, looking like it was anxiously waiting for it's master to return to his rightful spot on it. the scene gave the impression of a potent efficiency and of a disregard for any unnecessary comfort.