Chapter 1: 1967
Caution: This Young Adult Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft, Fa/ft, Teenagers, Consensual, BiSexual, Heterosexual, True Story, Incest, Mother, Group Sex, First, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Analingus, .
Desc: Young Adult Sex Story: Chapter 1: 1967 - A continuation of my sexual education -high school
As you've read in my previous stories, I had a very popular band, popular enough to tour the entire central US several times. As always, there were groupies and an outlet for the band's teen hormones. Some were high schoolers, like us, all the way to grown women in their 20-30's. I don't know what it is about musicians, but if you're good, women seem to be drawn to you.
Our recent tour was designed to coincide with our school year. Although we did a lot of schoolwork by correspondence, we STILL had to put in a certain amount of days actually IN the school building. This was our last out-of-town gig for the summer. This was an understanding between US, our parents, the school board and our manager. We had a gig lined up near our hometown, sponsored by the biggest radio station around and at $4 per head or $7 per couple, our share of ticket sales and at the door promised to be big. We'd just come back from winning a 'battle of the bands' in Omaha and our radio sponsors were playing it up big, which only enhanced ticket sales. The Convention Hall had a packed crowd as we looked out from behind the curtains. A lesser known band was opening for us and thankfully, they were good, so as not to get the crowd in a down mood as we waited for them to finish their set.
We took the stage after being announced and the roar of the crowd was one of the best ego-builders know to man. Our playlist was already set up and as I slung my bass around my neck, I looked out over the crowd near the front of the stage and saw her. I dunno who she was, but she was belly up to the edge, getting as close to the band as possible. Great, another groupie. As we started our first song, she seemed to just stare at me and none of the other guys. Maybe my fly was open, who knows.
As the crowd got into our music, couples began to fill the floor. I watched this girl get hit on by Gawd knows how many guys, but she just waved them off and kept her eyes on me or my fingers flying over my guitar neck. After an hour, we told the crowd it was break time and launched into our break song. Three minutes later, I set my bass in its stand and walked backstage for a cold drink and to sit for 15 minutes. We were chatting amongst ourselves when the GIRL with a backstage pass walked over to me.
"I just love your music and I can't believe we go to the same school. My name is Caroline and I know yours is Buck. You know we only live about a mile apart? You're a senior and I'm just a freshman. Once in a while, I've seen you in school. I've driven by your folks house a million times. I ... I just can't believe I'm talking to you!" If she'd only slow down a minute, I think she could have actually taken a breath.
"Well, hello Caroline. I'm glad we have at least one fan out there. Looked to me like everyone was kinda bored" as I smiled at her.
"Oh God. NO! Everyone here just loves your band. Why don't you guys ever cut a record? I bet you'd be millionaires."
"Well, it's like this, we do lots of cover songs and a few of our own, but mostly cover stuff. People know them, so it's not like we havta get 'em to like our own songs. Maybe in the future." She seemed to be mulling that over in her head.
The break was over and we gathered ourselves to hit the stage again The radio sponsor took Caroline by the arm and told her she couldn't remain backstage if WE weren't there. As she walked off, the front man whispered loud enough EVERYONE backstage could hear it "BUCK'S GOT A GIRLFRIEND!", loud enough that Caroline heard it too. As I took my place back on the bandstand, I thought about this girl. Not tall, not short either. Maybe 5'-2" or 3, shoulder length shining coal black hair, nice legs, what appeared to be a trim waist, and a very pretty face. It was hard to discern much else as she was wearing a bulky pullover. The band started our next set and Caroline resumed staring at me. Why did I get the feeling she was memorizing me, or something about me?
Two more sets and we were done for the night. The sponsor congratulated us on a successful gig and handed our manager the check for our share. We let our roadie crew break down and pack our stuff in the vans and we went towards our own cars. Caroline was waiting for me, leaning on the fender of my Mustang. I also owned a Dodge SuperBee, but at 4 miles per gallon, even at .35 a gallon, it just wasn't economical.
"Can I talk to you some more, please", she asked?
"I guess so, don't you have a curfew or something though?"
"My mom knows I was coming here and she knew I was going to meet you if I had to hide in your car."
"Wow! Determined little thing aren't you?"
"You have NO idea."
Ok, where does this all lead? Is she the typical groupie? Fuck one or more of the band for kicks or what?
"Actually, would you mind taking me home ... straight home." Considering her, her looks and the fact we were really going in the same direction, why not?
"Hop in, hon" as I unlocked her door for her.
"OMG, you're a gentleman, too. Mom is going to love you!" Mom??
It took us about an hour to drive back home and she kept up a near running chatter - me, the band, what we did on the road, did I have a girlfriend, did I WANT one ... ect. I really didn't feel like filling her in on mine or the band's 'activities' while we were on the road, but I could answer the girlfriend questions.
"Nope, no girlfriend, haven't had time for a girlfriend since last spring. We've been on the road nearly nonstop for the last three months."
"You poor baby! You need a girlfriend and I know someone who's available."
"Oh? What does this mystery girl look like? I'm kinda particular, you know. Does she look anything like a Playboy Bunny?" THAT got me a hard punch in the arm.
"She's not a centerfold, she's a good girl."
"Good at what?" I smiled
"Oh you! You're impossible." The next 15 minutes of the ride to her house were quiet.
As we got near her street, she broke the silence with "Doesn't your family own a truckstop. I know some people with your last name with one. I get gas there all the time."
"You got me. Yup, the family owns a truckstop. I worked there my freshman through junior year, then the band took off. Besides, you have NO idea how hard it is to work for family."
"That older man there, that's your father?"
"Yep, and that bald headed dude is my older brother, the family 'favorite'."
"I never knew my dad and my mom, Mary, never talks about him. As far back as I can remember, it's just been me and her."
"At least you have a mom, I DO have the wicked witch of the west living at my house. Dad either stays at work or at the truckstop to save his sanity. I'm glad to be in the band and even gladder to be on the road a lot - I don't havta be around her."
"That's really sad. I know my mom will like you. Would you mind coming in with me?"
Totally discounting my 'mother', my dad DID raise a gentleman, so I said "Sure, I'd like that."