A Story Without Me 6

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jobob

Rock n' Roll Doggie ALL ACCESS
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A Story Without Me
Chapter 6 : You Say It's Your Birthday (Birthday Eve)

Disclaimer yadda yadda: Bono's still not mine. But I have B. Principle Management won't let me have Bono for my birthday and graduation present. Some Plebans won't even let me have Bono in the PLEBA Parties. (Last night, a very possessive PLEBAn asked me when there would be more of this story. I should have made a deal ... ) B's based on Bono. And where would B/Bono be without the band, even if there is no U2 in this alternate universe? Edge, Larry, and Adam have cameos here. The description of Larry's role is from "Bono in Conversation." To quote "Beautiful Day," you and my characters are all "in the maze of her imagination." Meaning: This story is fiction. Welcome to the party:

You've hinted for two weeks to B that your birthday is the first weekend of August. You're beginning to sound like the local TV weatherman who used to spend the end of every July reminding viewers of his early August birthday. It's a wonder B hasn't told you to shut up already. You want you to shut up already. Yet you know B can be a bit forgetful. And you don't often get to spend your birthday with a special man. You're hoping and praying he'll do something special, and you don't want him to forget.

(You entered B's May 10 birthday on your computer calendar as soon as you could after he told you his birthdate. You've already started wondering what to get him. Dinner, with a piece of chocolate birthday cake. Books, naturally. Maybe a trip somewhere? And, of course ... )

It's now the night before your birthday. Birthday Eve. You worked earlier in the day. You became a full-time library employee last week. You're not as tired from working two jobs. You'll have a little more time to yourself -- and for B -- now that you're only working 40 hours a week again instead of 60. However, you still have to work on your birthday.

You're expecting B any moment. He said he wanted to start celebrating your birthday early.

He rings your doorbell just as you've finished changing into a classic little black dress. You figured you'd buy and wear it as a little present for B.

Smiling -- he seems to approve of the dress -- B hands you a "Happy Birthday" gift bag. "Happy birthday. I couldn't wait to give you your presents."

"First your card," B says, reaching inside the bag for two envelopes: A square one and a longer one, You open the square one first, at B's urging. It's a white notecard, with B's own handwriting:

J: No matter what else you do on your birthday, please make sure you do me.
With love for this year and for the rest of your years, B.

You blush at his innuendo. This is one birthday card you won't ever show your family and friends.

There's a gift certificate inside the second envelope. It's for two nights in September in a small Mackinac Island hotel. Your first trip together.

"Aw, B ... this is so nice! It will be great to go away with you. Thanks!" You hug and kiss him to show your appreciation. And now you know your "summer love" will continue into the fall.

"There's a couple of other things in the bag, J."

You take a look inside. Two books inside. You pull one of them out:

An advance copy of the new book "Making Love Last, In and Out of the Bedroom," by world-famous Irish sexologist Dr. Dave Evans, M.D., PhD. This book isn't even going to be released until next month. The reserve list for it is growing fast at your library. "B, how did you possibly get a copy of this?" you ask your blushing boyfriend.

"Dr. Dave Evans and I are old friends. We've known each other since high school -- we were in a band together, believe it or not. Look inside, I had him autograph it for you."

"You were in a band together? You *have* to tell me that story, B!"

You love the frank and funny advice "Dr. Dave" gives on his "Love Scientist" cable TV talk show. You're hoping he wins this year's Nobel Prize in Medicine for his research into the female orgasm (rumor is he was nominated, even though the Nobel committee never confirms nominations). Dr. Dave also regularly sits in as a guest guitarist with the world's most popular rock bands. He's a very talented guitarist, too.

You open the front cover of the doctor's book to read:

2005 August

J:

B and I have been best friends since we were lab partners in high school biology class. Back then, he got all the girls.
He's looked for someone special for a long time. I was glad to hear he found you -- and you found him.

Have a happy and sexy birthday!

Dr. Dave

P.S. E-mail me: drdave@lovescientist.com.ie.
I'd like to hear from you.

You will e-mail Dr. Dave as soon as you can; it would be nice to find out some more about B from one of his old friends.

"So *you* got all the girls back in high school? Sounds like the good doctor has been overcompensating since then." It's not hard to see B being a ladies man, a flirt, a charmer. He certainly charmed you. He still does, and hopefully he always will. As long as you remain the most important woman in his life.

"Guilty as charged. It's true what they say about girls chasing boys in rock bands, even if they're only four high school mates who can barely play. Or even if they're lead singers who can barely sing," He laughs at the memory. "In my own defense -- and Dave knows this -- I dated only one girl during my last year and a half of high school. Ali was one of the loves of my life, but we were very young, we had some problems. She left me as we started university. I haven't seen her in about 25 years ..."

"Wait a minute ... *you sung in a band?*" Suddenly B just became sexier. You've always had a secret little thing for singer-songwriters. "You never told me this, B! Did you also write songs?" Oh, please, please, B, tell me you wrote songs ...

... and you realize you cut him off as he was telling you something important about his old high school girlfriend. You should apologize and ask him about Ali. It sounds like she meant a great deal to B.

"I'll tell you over dinner. Finish opening your present."

You take the second book out of the bag. It's "The New Joy of Sex."

Now you're blushing again. You thank God B gave this to you in your living room and not in public. You tell B this. He laughs.

"Open up the book," he softly says.

He wrote this on the title page:

5 August 2005

Dearest J:

They should consider changing this book's title to:
"The Joy of New Sex."

Or "The Joy of Sex Between New Lovers."

Read this with me soon, very soon. And often.
I believe sex is best when it's done with love.

I love you, J.

Happy birthday, love.

B.

Now you really want to hug and kiss him. And more.

"As much as I'd like us to start reading your new books now," B tells you, "we have not yet had dinner. And it's hot in here. Your air conditioning is still out? I'm going to take you out to dinner ... and back to my house for dessert." He winks. "Bring your new books along so we can read them after dinner."

He takes you on a short walk from your house to your town's downtown and into Sophia's, a cozy storefront Italian restaurant with a reputation for romance and its own small winery. You toast your birthday over glasses of Sophia's own vintage. Red for you, white for him.

He tells you about the band, "The Hype." They played gigs around Dublin during their last two years of high school. They came very close to getting a record contract, but they and their parents couldn't come up with enough money for them to go to London to actually record. So instead of becoming rock stars, Dave kept his promise to his parents to be a pre-med student. B, who dreamed of being a writer, an artist, or an actor, studied English, history, and art in university. After he graduated, he went on an intervew with the auto company, and the rest is history.

Their friends Adam, the bass player, and Larry, the drummer, only ever wanted to be musicians. Adam and Larry went to England and the States and became studio musicians. Larry -- now superstar drummer Larry Mullen -- formed and joined a couple of other bands, became a star. Larry also just became an actor. Larry got great reviews in this summer's hit movie, "The Lawman," as a burned-out small-town American highway patrolman who suddenly crosses over to the other side of the law by robbing his town's bank. (You also thought Larry was perfect in "The Lawman" when you saw it in July. You thought his permanent scowl and I'm-Larry-fecking-Mullen attitude were made for the part.) Adam still is a studio musician; his funky, thumping bass can be heard on many classic rock songs and albums. He is also the web master of spoonman.com, a business which grew out of his hobbies of spoon collecting and of buying and selling spoons over eBay.

Yes, B did write the band's lyrics. With some occasional help from Dave. B was also their lead singer. All four of them co-wrote the music.

"You'll have to sing one or two of your old songs for me sometime," you tell him. "I've always had a 'thing' for singer-songwriters." You lean into his ear to whisper the rest of the sentence. "I've never been bold enough to be a groupie before ... maybe, if you're lucky, I could be yours ..."

"Maybe ..." he laughs, and continues his story.

B says he badly wanted to play guitar. He wanted to so badly, he says he still plays badly whenever he picks up his old guitar. His thick fingers and large hands, 'bricklayer's hands,' he calls them, just cannot form the chords and pluck the strings the way Dave's or Adam's long and narrow hands and fingers easily can. You reach for his hand across the table and put your hand on top of his left hand. "I like your hands. Even if you say they can't play a guitar, I like what they can do," you simply say.

He blushes, smiles, continues talking about the old band.

"Dave was always our better guitar player. If he hadn't become a doctor, I think he would have become one of the best rock guitarists ever. Even then, he had a unique style. I can still hear it now when he jams with other bands. And Adam -- his instrument has mysterious powers over women. Now you'll listen for Adam's bass, fall under its spell, find him, and run off with him!"

"I don't think so, B. As I just told you, singers, especially lead singers and singer-songwriters, do it for me." You wink at him.

Your meal is finished. The waitress is asking if you would like dessert.

"Love, I know you have plans for 'dessert,' but I'd love a slice of tiramasu," you tell B. "Care to share one with me?"

"One slice of tiramsu for my birthday girl, with two forks," he tells your waitress. The waitress returns, with another waiter and the busboy, and your dessert. There's a small lit candle in your piece of tiramasu. The threesome and B sing "Happy Birthday" to you. You make a wish, blow out your candle.

After dinner, you go back to your house to get clothes for work tomorrow and to get your new books. B drives you to his house. He pours two glasses of champagne, tunes the classical music station in on his home satelite radio, brings you a piece of chocolate cake, and sits back down on his couch. You curl up in his arms and begin to read through your new copy of "The New Joy of Sex" together. He gives you sticky notes for page markers.

"How might you feel about this?" he asks, pointing to a classic illustration.

You look. "Oh, yes, I think I'd feel very good about that." You kiss him.

"Let's mark that page." B kisses you. "What else is in here?"

And so you read through your new book, kisses, caresses, sips of champagne and forkfuls of cake along the way.

At 20 minutes before midnight, B caresses you and starts whispering in your ear.

"I want to start your new year right," he softly tells you. "Enough reading. Let's go to bed."

"Best offer I've had all night," you reply. You take his hand, get up and go with him to his bedroom.

"Happy birthday to you," B sings intimately as you see 12:00 on his clock radio. "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear J, happy birthday to you."

"That's the best, the sexiest, 'Happy Birthday' I've ever heard," you whisper in his ear. "And you said you couldn't sing!"

"Do you want to find out what else I can and can't do?"
 
This is the best chapter yet! The books he bought for her. :drool: :drool: I love how you incorporated the other guys! More, More!
 
Adams_Girl said:
Is there an extended version?

You mean with explicit sex scenes?

Um ... Sorry, no, but thanks for asking. I may try some soon and send them out privately if I manage to write them.

I know many people like reading sex scenes. However, we all know you can't post graphic scenes here.

And, unfortunately, when it comes to writing sexual scenes any more explicit than what you've read from me here, I have a writer's block. I can make innuendoes, I enjoy reading good sex scenes, I just can't write smut. Can't really say why.

(And yes, I already know and love Bono's advice about writer's block: Write about it.)
 
jobob said:
Some Plebans won't even let me have Bono in the PLEBA Parties. (Last night, a very possessive PLEBAn asked me when there would be more of this story. I should have made a deal ... )

And you would be referring to.... ? :eyebrow:


:wink:


Another fabulous job! :)
 
Adams_Girl said:
Nevermind the extended version. Your story is great without it!:applaud:

Why, thank you. But for those of you who asked for one ....

I now have one. E-mail me at jobobsemail-u2stuff@yahoo.com and ask for the "extended version" of chapter 6.

(Don't spam me at this address. Two things will happen: The spam will never be read. And the address will disappear.)

Or if you're a premium member, you can PM me to get it.
 
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