by Jesse Jordan
Cora laughs, getting the joke, and squeezes my hand. “Well, I don't know if I can qualify as Cinderella, but I am most certainly feeling like a princess right now. In fact, I'm pretty much feeling like this is the best date I've ever had, and that's one hundred percent because of who I'm with right now.”
It's not far from the beach to my apartment, and I'm glad that Martha set us up with such a convenient and chic place to go on our date. Cora lets me lead her up the steps, looking around, noticing the busted-out security lights and the pool in the middle of the complex that I wouldn't let my worst enemy swim in, the greenish slime is so thick. “Yeah, you're going to be upgrading this place I assume after this next album drops.”
I laugh lightly, leading her up the steps and opening my front door. “I totally plan on upgrading. Come on in. Would you like anything?”
“Ah... nothing stronger than a glass of wine, but if not, coffee would be good too,” Cora says, taking a seat on my sofa. She looks around, noting the bare walls and cheap furniture that came with my place. “Minimalist decoration, interesting.”
“Better than old posters and black lights,” I joke, heading into my kitchenette. “I've got some red wine. How's that? It was a gift from someone last Christmas, so don't blame me if it sucks.”
“That'll be fine,” Cora laughs as I get out my corkscrew, it's part of the manual can opener that I bought down at the dollar store. “So... upgrading?”
“Oh yeah,” I say, twisting the corkscrew in before pulling it. The cork lets go with a satisfying pop. I rarely drink alcohol at all unless I'm out with friends, but I did a pretty good job with opening the bottle, I think. “Anyway, a musician we toured with said that when he and his band got started back in the nineties, he lived in a place kinda like this too. Even with the crazy costumes and with the wild life on tour, back home he drives a minivan and lives in a gated community. I asked him how one of the biggest bands in years lives in a place like that, he said that a lot of the big acts do it. They do it because they just want to have privacy, to have a little area where they aren't being hounded by fans all the time. He told me that a lot of folks go in one of two directions. You get those who love the bright lights, and some of them just live for it. They thrive in it. Then you get those who find their measure of peace. The key, he joked, was to not go overboard and become Michael Jackson.”
I pour two glasses of wine and pass one to Cora who laughs and takes a sip. She savors it for a moment, then sets her glass on my side table. “Yeah, that'd be a problem. So, I take it you want to be both a Grammy award winner and a family man? Not quite the standard rock recipe.”
“Hey, if Springsteen and Phil Collins can do it, why not me?” I ask, sitting down on the couch next to her. “It might not match the public relations image, but I'll let the label worry about that. My job is making good music. And with you... we make beautiful music together. So, a toast, to Cora, who helps me make beautiful music.”
“We always have,” Cora says, clinking glasses with me before setting her glass aside and sliding closer. We kiss again, the deep, rich flavor of the red wine on her lips, and when I reach up to cup her breast through her blouse her answering moan lets me know how much she's enjoying it. When I squeeze slightly she reaches out, cupping my cock through my pants and rubbing, both of us wanting it.
“Wait,” she gasps, sitting back. Glancing at the clock, she shakes her head. “Rocky... I'm sorry, I can't.”
“What's wrong?” I ask, my cock throbbing inside my pants. I haven't had sex in months. Not since I broke up with my last girlfriend. And I never felt with her how I feel for Cora. “Is it because you don't know if I'm safe? Don't worry, I have condoms, and I had to get a physical two months ago as part of the Gashouse contract, STDs included. I'm clean as a whistle.”
“No, it's not that,” Cora says, standing up shakily. I can see she's massively aroused, her nipples are bullet points against the thin material of her blouse, and she half staggers getting up, but she does it, biting her lip so hard that I bet she's going to have a bruise there tomorrow. She takes a deep breath, running her hand through her hair and looking up, her knees pressed together and her hand on her stomach. “I... Rocky, I have to go. Please... call me a cab?”
I look in her eyes, and part of me wants to push the issue. I want her badly, and not just because I haven't busted a nut in a while. There's something about the connection that I have with Cora, the intensity in just those two kisses that has my mind sparking. Ideas I'd never even considered before are flashing through my brain. I can't call it love at first sight, I've known Cora for over half my life, but I can call it something amazing.
You push now, and you ruin it for the long term, the normally ready-to-fuck-at-the-drop-of-a-hat side of my mind says, and I nod, standing up. “Okay. Have a seat. You're in pain I can see, and I'll go call now. But Cora, if this is because you think I won't respect you or that I want this to be just a one-night thing…”
Cora shakes her head but sits down gratefully. I go to my kitchen and get her a glass of cold water, taking my phone out of my pocket to call for a cab. The cab company says that they'll have a car to my place in twenty minutes, and I take the glass to Cora. “Here, maybe this will help. I think it'll be safer if I sit over here on the floor instead of on the couch. To be honest, I'm feeling just as shaky as you are right now. I just seem to be able to stand a bit more easily.”
I arrange myself on the floor, sitting carefully to make sure my aching balls and cock don't get any more pressure on them from my pants and wishing for the first time I was in hip-hop, loose jeans or chinos would be very helpful right now. “So... uh, this is strange for me. I don't think I've ever sat around for fifteen minutes after a woman told me no before, trying to have a conversation. Actually, I can guarantee that, since I've never had a woman in this apartment before.”
“Really?” Cora asks in honest surprise, looking around. She takes in my décor and hums, then nods. “Well, I guess that makes sense. You know, I know I called it minimalist before, but this is certainly a subset of that, maybe garage sale chic? What motivated you when you decorated?”
I laugh, it helps and restores a little bit of the normalcy to the evening. “Honestly, I just never got around to it. First I was living with Ian, and we had a decent system when we had company, but after Gashouse signed us to two EPs before we dropped Slam the Floor, I decided that I had to find my own place. Ian had a relatively serious girlfriend at the time who was nice but had a habit of walking around the apartment butt naked which made me uncomfortable. Ian understood, we worked that out. That was two years ago, and I thought that I'd be able to find the time to kinda personalize this place, but... well, I guess I've never got around to it.”
Cora nods and takes another sip of cold water. “What was it like crashing with Ian? I mean, I know you three are tight, but you don't seem to have personalities that would be right for living together. Hanging out, sure. Being a damn good band, definitely. But I can't imagine you two living together.”
“Actually, I owe him a lot. He's kinda been the big brother for Joey and me. Sure, I'm the front man, but Ian's the guy who helped Joey and me avoid the biggest mistakes when we started on the road. While Mom and Dad would have had no problem with me staying at home, I think it was a good thing to stay with Ian for those few years. He was the guy who pointed out mistakes he made when he was eighteen and on the road for the first time. His being two years older than I am, made him more experienced. You see, his parents were in showbiz too. He doesn't talk a ton about it, I don't think all his memories are good ones, but he's been a good dude,” I reply, then look at her, a question coming to mind. “What about you? I mean, I had Ian, Joey, my folks. What about you? When I stopped by my folks' the other day to get some clear headspace, Mom mentioned that you're kinda a ghost around the old neighborhood. She's seen your car parked over at your parents' house every once in a while, but that's about it.”
Cora shrugs, and again I g
et the confusing feeling that there's something she's not telling me. It's the only thing that I don't like about this evening, the feeling that there's something she's hiding. “A lot of reasons for that, I guess. First, that I changed my mind and went two years instead of four years for my degree, I was so anxious to get out and start doing internships, stuff like that. I mean, in our neighborhood, you either went four years or you went military, we were middle-class white collar types, you know? For me to even think of that was pretty much on the level of being sacrilegious.”
I laugh, my disquiet forgotten, nodding. “Yeah, I caught a lot of flak around the neighborhood about my choice. Thankfully, Mom and Dad are totally cool with it, especially since they see that I'm getting close to making it.”
“My parents were cool too, but more importantly they let me try to make it on my own when I felt that was what I had to do. It was hard, and when things were tight, I applied for food stamps. That's not something that goes over well the neighborhood where we grew up. But most of all... I guess I've been a little ashamed about some of the paid jobs I've taken. You've got Slam the Floor, The Tonight Show, stuff like that. My first paid job was for a teen babysitter porno, and until I got this shot with the Fragments, my biggest profile full album was the soundtrack for movie.”
“I wouldn't knock it, Cora,” I protest, and Cora smiles. “Seriously, you were making money. I don't care about your work background. Hell, you should have seen some of the dives that the Fragments played in. That includes strip clubs. The first week after we started working together, I asked Martha to hook me up with a list of your previous projects, although she left off the pornos. I guess you did them under an assumed name?”
“Tiffany Tones,” Cora says with a self-deprecating laugh. “At least, that's what's on the IMDB. As soon as I gathered up enough credits on other stuff that I didn't need them, I dropped them from my official portfolio. So, what did you think?”
“You turned shit into Superman more often than should have been possible. And you did some guest spots too. Always at the core of each of them is the sound that I have come to know is yours. Clear, with as little foolishness as possible, but at the same time you make everyone up their game. That's talent, Cora. Real talent. I guess that I just regret not seeing you for you, and being blinded by just your talent five years ago. Or maybe I just had my head up my ass about trying to make it as a rock star, and not seeing that you were there the whole time.”
There's a beep outside my apartment building and my phone rings. Cora smiles and finishes her water before standing up. “That is perhaps the biggest compliment and the cutest thing anyone's ever said to me, wrapped up all in one, Rocky. Thank you.”
I get up off the floor and walk her to the door, opening it for her before walking her downstairs and out the front gate to the cab, stopping after opening the door. “Cora... if it isn't too much, would you mind if maybe I took you out again on a date?”
Cora nods and steps closer, kissing me again. It's just as tender and amazing as the first two, and I can't help but feel my cock twitch again. When we part, I'm smiling. “You know, you don't kiss like a woman who wants to leave.”
“I don't,” Cora reassures me. “But I have to. Rocky... there'll come a time, but for now, let me just say that I'm not saying no. In fact, everything inside me is saying yes. But now isn't the time, that's all. Can you wait for me?”
“I can wait,” I reassure her. “You're worth it.”
Cora smiles and gives me a quick peck on the lips again before she climbs in, the cab driver pulling away into the dark Los Angeles night. I check my watch and see that it's only eleven fifteen, an unusually early night for a first date for me. Actually, I think as I head back into my apartment building and climb the concrete steps to the second floor, this is another first for me. Since losing my virginity, getting laid has never been a problem for me. In fact, after a few groupies, I quickly grew tired of it and tried to find actual girlfriends. I've never, in my entire life, been turned down or told to wait.
It's refreshing really, even if my balls are aching and I need a cold shower. But still, I guess it's just another way that Cora's different from every other woman I've ever taken on a date before. The shower beckons, and I strip off my clothes, looking at myself in the mirror. Hmm... well, I guess Cora will find out when the time's right, but I think I can please her with what I've got. Reaching down, I massage myself a little bit before I reach in and turn on the shower. As much as I'd like to come, for some reason, it's just not right to do so when I'm this close to having actually taken Cora into my bed. She's special, and I hold myself back despite the aching throb, gathering my guts by taking a deep breath.
“This is going to hurt a little,” I hiss, stepping into the ice-cold water. My guess is right, the next sound out of my mouth is a strangled, raspy scream, but I grit my teeth and bear through it, knowing that somehow, in some way, the pain is worth it. After a night with Cora, I'm willing to put up with a lot of pain.
Cora
I'm super quiet coming in, heading straight to the bedroom to check on everything, but Bella's out like a light when I get home, my body still thrumming like a plucked string on a guitar. I come back out and set my bag down, causing a little bit of noise. Raising her head from the couch where she's been napping, Tran looks at her watch, and give me a thumb’s up. “All good, Cora. You still have fifteen minutes to spare. Hey, you look flushed, you sure you okay? Too much to drink or are you getting sick?”
“No, I'm fine,” I reassure her. “Are you sure you're not a mother already, Tran? You got the worrying instinct down cold.”
“That's just the Vietnamese side coming out, my mom back home would have had you already in bed with a hot cup of bun bo hue broth, trying to sweat the cold out of you,” Tran says, getting her things together. “Jewish mothers can say what they want, but nobody beats the Vietnamese in worrying about their children and friends.”
I'm touched, and give Tran a smile “Thankfully for me, your mom's back in Ho Chi Minh City. You need a ride?”
Tran looks me over and shakes her head. “Not as much as you need to get out of that dress and into some jammies and get some sleep. I'll call Vicki, she'll pick me up, no problem.”
While Tran calls her host mother, I strip out of my date clothes and toss them in the hamper, my fingers still shaking. I nearly lose my balance when I unhook my bra and the lace edge of the right cup brushes over my nipple, and I can't help but whimper slightly. Aroused? Flushed? I might as well be screaming FUCK ME, PLEASE! I'm so turned on. Telling Rocky ‘no’ and leaving his apartment after his fingers molded themselves to my breast after his lips were on mine? Almost impossible. I finally had the man of my dreams right there and my hand cupping the hard bulge of his cock through his jeans, and I walked away. It's the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life outside of giving birth.
My body isn't any calmer when I finish pulling on my sleep clothes, a plain black tee and some flannel cotton shorts that are soft but still breathable. Good any time for California nights, but right now all I can feel is the thump of my heart and the wetness between my legs. I come out of the bedroom after glancing at Bella, she's okay. I head to the bathroom where I quickly pull my vibrator out of my makeup kit and slip it into the pocket of my shorts, I know I can't help it tonight. Tran's in the living room, her stuff in her bag, and she smiles when I dig out the money for her. “Thanks, Cora. Bella was a darling as always. I taught her some Vietnamese, so if she starts saying strange stuff, she's not cursing at you or anything.”
“Thanks, and thank you for coming over despite the short notice,” I reply, my hand still trembling. “Good luck with your tests tomorrow.”
“And you good luck with getting some rest,” Tran says, concerned. There's a quick beep outside, and Tran looks out the door. “Oh, that's Vicki. See you, Cora.”
Tran disappears out the door and I close it, leaning my head against the wood, taking a deep shuddering breath. Our la
st kiss was nearly an hour ago, and I'm still so ready to come that I have to stagger to the couch, my mind already filling with the fantasies of what I wanted tonight.
“You know, you don't have to be Cinderella,” Rocky whispers, his thumb moving in slow circles on top of my breast, the electric touch leaving me reeling.
“You're right,” I whisper back, reaching up and undoing the tie on his ponytail, kissing his cheek before nibbling on his ear. The slight stubble he's got rasps against my cheek, adding to the burn inside my body as his hands wrap around me, pulling me closer to him. “But I do want to come by midnight.”
Rocky kisses the curve of my neck and shoulder as he lifts my skirt, pulling me into his lap and letting me plant my knees on either side of his body, my pussy already rubbing against the bulge in his pants. “I want more than a princess. I want you.”
“You've always had me,” I reassure him, grabbing his hair and pushing his head back to look into his eyes. “You always will have me.”
The tug on his hair makes sparks flare up in Rocky's eyes, and he grins, slapping my ass through my panties and making us both jump. My pussy is on fire, and suddenly we're clawing, tugging at each other's clothes to be able to feel skin on skin contact. Rocky rips the blouse from my upper body, buttons pinging as they bounce off the wall in front of me, the strap of my bra snapping before my upper body is bared to Rocky, whose shirt I've managed to rip open. Rocky pulls me to him, his lips sucking hard on my left nipple and making my head spin while I grind on the bulge in his pants, my pussy throbbing with every nip and lick of his tongue on the hard nub.
When I'm on the edge of coming, I push back, shaking my head as I slide down Rocky's body and grab his belt. I'm wanton, desperate as I open his belt and then slide the zipper down on his pants, freeing the cock that I've dreamed about for years. He's thick and perfect, and my mouth waters as I drag my tongue up from the base all the way to the tip, swirling my tongue around while he looks at me in half amazement, half amusement. I lick his underside again and smile. “What? Thought I was too cutie-pie to want to suck your cock?”