Locked Down with Mr. Right

The computer was off, and I picked up the Rickenbacker since judgmental eyes were no longer on me. The almighty Lemmy used to say that he wasn’t a bassist. He was a guitarist who played bass, which was fair enough. His first instrument was the six-string electric guitar before moving to bass after moving on to Motörhead from Hawkwind, doing the opposite of most people.

Lemmy learned to play the bass on the fly as a member of Hawkwind where it was also his primary instrument. The general myth was that bass is easier than guitar, and most bassists never learned how to play properly. Rather than being a shitty guitarist playing the bass badly, he was a good guitarist who adapted what he already knew to a new instrument.

The rudiments of music were basically the same. This also explained why he sounded so different than equally good bassists who approached the instruments as basses. The secret to Lemmy’s sound was that he was actually still riffing, like he had on the guitar.

I wasn’t as good as all that. Though my many years of acoustic guitar practice did inarguably help in developing my bass technique. I tried to keep it hidden from most of my present colleagues, who tended to see anything remotely artistic as completely useless. I had actually put myself through college playing bass in a touring band, using my numerous reading breaks and free months over the summer to tour. I wanted to stay at it, but it was bad enough I was going to school for media production.

My parents would have written me out of the will if I had become some kind of sleaze bag rocker. The fact that the band was a nine-piece symphonic metal outfit complete with sting-quartet, notwithstanding. I still had copies of our two indie albums. I would listen to them when I needed cheering up.

Addie was in the kitchen, having pulled on one of my shirts over her lovely nakedness. I couldn’t blame her really. The house could get pretty cold. When I came in, she was searching the cupboards. Stretching in a most enticing way, the shirt was riding up just enough to give a sense of potentiality.

I sucked her ear gently, arms around her, my hands unbuttoning the buttons. Getting the material out of the way, I gently stroked her pussy. Running my fingers along her tender lips as she moaned in pleasure. She bent over, placing her hands on the edge of the counter, literally bracing herself. Lifting the back of the shirt like a drape revealing a piece of art, I unzipped my pants, pressing the head of my cock against her wet pussy.

When she was ready, I pushed in to half my length and, putting my hands lightly on her hips, began to pump. Working the bulk of my monster cock deep inside her, I relished every squeak and moan that escaped her throat.

Getting close, I pulled out and eased her down on her knees in front of me. Instinctively knowing what to do, Addie took my cock into her mouth and accepted my massive load, swallowing down every last drop of thick, hot cum with demonstrable pleasure. Pulling her too me, we kissed passionately, my hand firmly squeezing her perfect ass.

“I need a bowl,” she said, when I finally relented.

The kitchen had apparently been easy enough to find. As had the milk being in the friend as was the tradition. The cereal, spoons and bowls, however, were quite another matter. The drawers and cupboards both numbering in the dozens. Each with its own shape and function.

We took our bowls to the dining room, where I noticed that Addie’s panties were still waiting patiently. Noticing them, she whisked them away as if it were all dreadfully embarrassing.

“I’ve seen you naked,” I pointed out.

“Oh, right.”

Relaxing a bit, Addie placed her erstwhile under things on the seat beside her and she dug into her Lucky Charms as if she were excavating gold.

“Childhood favourite?”

“Yeah, how’d ya know?” she asked.

“I’m eating Trix. Think about it.”

“I don’t usually go for nostalgia,” she said defensively.

“Me either,” I assured, “yet things still hold on anyway. Despite my best efforts. Most of my record collection is still on CD. Never really got into the MP3s. I mean, I understand it. It is a lot more convenient as well as cheaper. There are just some things I don’t trust computers with.”

“Like everyone else who really knows about them,” she said, with a wink.

I couldn’t quite tell if she was being serious or playing along with what she thought was a conspiracy theory. The fact was, I did know a lot about computers. The advantages as well as the weaknesses. My reluctance in some areas led many to believe I was a latter-day Luddite when nothing could really be further from the truth.