I pulled my hands out of my panties.
Usually, I recorded my songs and sent them to a prospective client. Initially, I’d done that with him, and he’d asked my manager to set up a phone call meeting. Then, he had me sing to him over the phone and continued our meetings like that. But somehow, singing to him always made me wet and hungry.
I gazed out of the window, trying to focus on something else.
Snow continued to fall outside, covering the borough in thick, icy layers of white. Christmas was in two days and I hadn’t even put up a tree, bought any gifts, or sent cards. In fact, for the past three months, I’d barely left my apartment. It was all about the music every minute of every day. I had to win. I would reach my destiny. I would show my mother and father that I wasn’t crazy. That it was all worth it.
I should call Mom and Dad. They’re probably wondering what’s up with me.
They were down in South Carolina, living a normal life, and not chasing a crazy dream. Both of my sisters had already married and were expecting kids. They thought I was a bit looney to put family and marriage aside to focus on my career.
I doubted they expected me to even come down in visit.
I’ll call tonight. There’s too much work to do.
I picked up my headphones and swiveled in my computer chair. The upstairs neighbor’s tv came through the ceiling muffled. He was a retired army captain who loved my songs.
I checked my watch. It was ten in the morning. I had five more hours before I would have to stop singing. I’d agreed with all the other neighbors to keep the racket down once they arrived from work and school. After that, I would hopefully go to sleep, being that I hadn’t slept last night.
All work and no play makes Simone a horny, lonely girl.
I sipped coffee that had gone cold since making it and then yanked one of my microphones in front of my face.
I’d turned my tiny living room into a studio. Musical instruments were hooked up everywhere. Microphones dangled from the ceiling. Blue covered the whole space from the floor to the walls, and even the couch and items on my bookshelf were blue.
The Gullah had many superstitions. One of them was fear of haints or spirits. We didn’t believe spirits could cross over water, so we painted blue on our porches and doors to ward off the evil spirits.
Being that I was in a box apartment in Brooklyn struggling to pay high rent, I had no porch and the landlord wouldn’t let me paint the outside of the door. But on the inside, he gave me free rein and I went crazy coating the place in shades of blue.
But some nights, when I sat alone on my couch with the snow falling outside and the streets dead empty, the blue made me feel so cold, so gloomy.
In that moment, my mind wandered back to Giovanni.
What will you be doing tonight? What beautiful woman will get to kiss those soft lips and hear you whisper how much you love her?
I figured he had big plans. He probably had a private jet ready to fly him off to Europe to hang mistletoe with princesses and other royalty. And when he looked under his Christmas tree, he had everything he desired and more wrapped up in a little bow.
What does the man that has everything write on his Christmas wish list?
I grabbed my notebook and worked on a new song…one with no begging.
Focus, Simone, focus.
Chapter 2
Giovanni
Musicians don't retire;
they stop when
there's no more music in them.
~Louis Armstrong
Simone. Simone. Damn, I love the way you beg.
Sighing, I hung up the phone and leaned back in my chair. I closed my eyes as her song danced in my head. She had a sinful tongue, curling out notes and giving me the sensation of her mouth on mine. With that voice, I couldn’t think of why she wasn’t already a star.
“I’m covered in cream, and you’re just licking.”
I visualized her legs spread apart in front of me and my mouth diving in. Hot cum threatened to burst from my cock. From the moment she started her second song, I’d unzipped my pants and had that wicked monster in my hand, rubbing the tip, thinking of her as she sang those sexy lyrics.
“Please, baby, come all over me. Please, fuck me until I can’t see.”
It was a wonder I hadn’t come on my pants and spilled that white liquid all over my studio floor.
Damn her.
Simone did that to me, had me gripping my cock every time her beautiful voice flowed.
The first time I heard her sing, I yearned to hear more. Never had I reacted that way. I hadn’t even looked her up, didn’t want to see her picture. It would hurt the fantasy in my mind. Not that it would matter what she looked like. She could have one leg, purple skin, and three eyes. If she sang in front of me, I would shove my cock deep inside of her.