Chapter 9: Kentucky

Our motorcycle trip Saturday morning took us to the Kentucky State Fair Grounds in Louisville, Kentucky. Terry had booked Crystal there as the headliner for the evening's show. We stayed on back roads on the way to Louisville and all the way to the fair grounds. At one of our pit stops along the route, Crystal showed me a text message on her phone from Terry: the concert was a sell out – 18,000 people would be attending. Crystal had the celebrity power to draw a sell-out crowd.

Fear pulsed through me, and I felt my body go cold. I would have to stand on stage – to sing on stage – in front of 18,000 people! Most people fear public presentations more than mad dogs, heights, deep water, flying, and even death. I knew what they felt like. I must have turned pale, because Crystal pushed her lithe body against me and gave me a kiss. She bit my ear and whispered, "Jim, you'll do great. I'll be there with you, and I wouldn't put you through anything bad – I love you!"

I felt better – temporarily. I studied Crystal as we got back on the bike to continue our trip: late-twenties, perfect figure and model quality face, full breasts, cowboy boots, long lanky legs, cutoffs, flat tummy, bikini bra that barely did the cover-up job, and long light brunette hair. About thirty magazines and other media had rated her the most talented country singer of the year, and she had the number one hit still riding the charts after being there weeks and weeks: 'Flirty, Flirty Cowgirl.'

The People magazine article had a lot of information about me that neither Crystal nor I told the paparazzi. The article talked about the 'tragic death of Jim's wife in February from an autoimmune disease, ' how I'd rebuilt the Harley Davidson motorcycle that had been my father's as self-imposed therapy, how I'd set out from Dillon, Massachusetts, on a cross-country ride through the forty-eight contiguous states to Anna's home in San Diego, California. The article even talked about my history as a Green Beret, my job as a computer 'executive' – an inflated statement for what I actually did, and how I'd done several heroic deeds along my trip so far: rescuing a farmer from a burning barn in Pennsylvania, saving two children floating out to sea in South Carolina, stopping a rape and getting shot for my troubles in Alabama, and helping police apprehend a dangerous felon in Arkansas. The amazing thing about the article was its thoroughness – I hadn't told anyone in Tennessee the details in the story that had been unearthed about me except Crystal, and I knew she hadn't told anybody because she'd been with me constantly, plus when I'd told her it was the night before People hit the newsstands.

I chuckled at some of the inaccuracies the story contained: that I held a black belt in several exotic martial arts disciplines, spoke six languages, and had made millions off the Internet before the crash of 2001. I don't know where these 'facts' came from, and I wished they were true. Such glaring lies reminded me to never believe what I read in the tabloid press.

Crystal and I stopped near a small community college for ice cream, and sat outside. I thought about Crystal, and I thought about Karen. I'd told Crystal about my ceremony of leaving a trace of Karen's ashes at some picturesque spot along my route. This small town felt 'right' to me, and so I let a small envelope of Karen's ashes fly in the summer breeze in a park across the street from the ice cream place. I stood and said a small prayer of connection. Without saying anything, Crystal came up and quietly and lovingly hugged me from the back, until I was ready to move along to Louisville. I appreciated her compassion and felt such love from her.

After we were underway, I wondered what Karen would have thought about my singing and doing concerts in front of thousands of people. I could almost hear her laughter at my nervousness and angst over the whole change of scenery. I know she liked to do or say things that would rattle my cage a little, and put me off my game. I briefly wondered about the supernatural powers of the dead; could they orchestrate something like the dramatic changes in my life? Was all this Karen playing with me? I pushed the thoughts and questions away.

I was amazed at how many horse farms we passed on the way into Louisville. I wondered if some founding father had drawn a circle on the map around the area and reserved the area only for horse lovers.

We found the fairgrounds and after asking directions found Crystal's tour bus in a guarded and secure parking area behind the arena. The driver was just locking up, and he looked glad to see us. He told us he'd return first thing in the morning to drive the forty-five-foot tour bus to Indiana for the next night's concert. He verified that Crystal knew how to get into the bus when he wasn't there; a keypad sat behind a panel by the main door. We told him we'd ride the motorcycle to Indiana if the weather held. I noticed the band's bus and truck about a hundred feet away.

The inside of Crystal's bus could only be described as posh. We went in and locked up behind us to keep the curious at bay. The tinted windows allowed us to see out, but no one could see in – at least in the daytime.

Crystal immediately turned to me and pulled off her bikini bra and pushed her chest at me. "Feel me," she commanded with a naughty smile. "I've waited four hours to jump your bones. That motorcycle made my tight little pussy all tingly and needy, and only you can fix it." She started to pull off her cutoffs.

I fixed it. Crystal was happy. She still had on her cowboy boots while we fucked. I thought that was kinky and liked it. I was happy.

I had to sing in front of 18,000 people. I was unhappy.

After we cleaned up and donned our clothes again, Crystal and I roamed the fairgrounds for an hour or so, but only after trying to not look like the two singers on the cover of People. We both had sunglasses, hats, and were a bit grungy looking. We ate a highly unbalanced meal as we walked, although I had the jitters and didn't eat much. As we walked and much to my surprise, a dozen different people still asked for our autographs –several on our picture on the cover of People magazine. We both signed but Crystal told me that if I didn't want to do autographs, I could just to just turn them down and shake their hand or allow a quick photo. I'd never had anyone ever ask for my autograph.

About two o'clock, we went to Freedom Hall where we were going to perform that night and gained admittance after explaining to a guard who we were. I think he wanted to frisk Crystal. I already had.

The place was enormous. The stage had a huge banner above it proclaiming Crystal's fame. There were posters advancing the coming album I would join her on: 'Texas Dawn.' Much to my surprise, my name and photo even appeared on a few of the 'Texas Dawn' banners announcing the future album, and that decision was only less than a week old.

At least forty men were setting up equipment, moving speakers around, and testing electrical connections. Crystal's band was there setting up their gear, and we greeted each other. They verified a seven o'clock concert start, and told us a little about the opening band – The Hobo Palace – that would get the audience cranked up before we came on for two hours shortly after seven-thirty. Billy, the bandleader, said we should try to meet their lead singer, Cindy Wonder, before things started.

We went over the order of the songs Crystal would do, talked about how we'd do multiple choruses of each one to lengthen the songs from the three or four minute recording we'd done in the studio to a live entertainment number of up to ten minutes. The 'song order' information would be written in clear large letters on poster board that would sit behind one of the speakers where we could see it, but the audience couldn't. A teleprompter sat to one side of the stage.

Terry arrived with an entourage of five aides around him. I explained to him my worries about forgetting the words and things. He told me he'd fix that problem and not to worry. Why did everyone think I'd do so well at this, and I felt as though I would be sucked up into an alien spacecraft and whisked away to another planet to be dissected?

Ellen, one of the young aides, came up and got very close to me – inside my personal space; she smelled like lavender – really nice. She touched my arm and flirted with me a little as she explained, "We've got your costume for tonight," and pointed to six large shopping bags and some boxes piled near the stage. I hadn't thought much beyond wearing some of the stuff I normally carried on the motorcycle – blue jeans, a t-shirt, and my motorcycle boots. In the boxes, she had three pairs of western boots with all sorts of silver studs on them. The bags contained designer blue jeans – the expensive kind, several western hats of various sizes, and a variety of western shirts to choose from.

Ellen said, "I guessed at the sizes. I only saw you once when you stopped to rescue us at the stalled bus, but you seemed about the same size as one of my old boyfriends. I bracketed what he wore. There's still time for me to replace any of the items that don't fit or you don't like." She looked eager, and so I thanked her effusively for her help. She beamed at my attention and thanks.

Ellen led me to a dressing room off the side of the stage, and I tried on some of the outfits and found a successful ensemble. I wore it out of the men's dressing room for Crystal, Terry, Ellen, and the others to see. Terry spoke first, "Now, that's what I call an entertainer! You're great. You'll do fine tonight. They'll love you."

Terry paused and added, "By the way, I arranged for a teleprompter off to the right of the stage as you look out at the audience. Ellen is putting all the words to the songs you'll be singing up on it – just remember to sing and not read them." Well that solved one of my major angst problems. I liked Terry and the way he thought. Now, I had only 18,000 others.

Crystal liked my outfit too. While I'd been changing, she'd also changed into her onstage clothes she brought in from the bus: really fancy boots that hugged her lower calves and accentuated her curvy legs, a tight skirt that came to mid-thigh and revealed lots of leg, her favorite hat that kept getting crushed in my motorcycle saddlebag, and a tailored top that proved she wore a push-up bra and had significant cleavage to boot. I stared at her; she came up with her evil grin and whispered to me, "If you look at me like that on stage, we'll end up putting on the longest and best sex show Louisville has ever seen on stage ... and, yes, I am wearing underwear – although you tempt me not to." I felt a really strong twinge in my lower regions.

Billy, the keyboard player and bandleader, Crystal, and I went into a side room where he'd set up a portable keyboard: rehearsal time had arrived. Ellen followed us with a laptop computer and a pile of sheet music. Crystal and Ellen exchanged some significant looks, but I had no idea why. I was too nervous to give much thought to anything except surviving my personal appearance on stage. We'd agreed that Crystal would do eight songs before I joined her onstage. Crystal quickly ran through her eight songs, sometimes only mouthing the words to save her voice. They'd talk here and there too, about how to segue between parts of the songs or blend from one part to another. Pretty soon, I caught onto some of the differences between the recording sessions we'd done, and what would happen onstage at the concerts.

When the time to practice our duets came, I joined in. My voice cracked and squeaked throughout the session so much, I asked Crystal if she were sure she wanted me onstage with her. She affirmed that she did, and assured me that this was nerves and I'd be fine once I got in front of the audience. Not likely, I thought.

Ellen disappeared for a while, and reappeared with two small steak dinners. She explained, "This will give you some protein and carbs and keep your tummy from squawking onstage where everyone could hear it." She watched me pick at it, and commanded me to eat. Ellen sat close to me, again inside my personal space and even putting an arm around me to rub my back, talking in a friendly way and trying to get me to relax. Crystal seemed to have a nice connection with Ellen, and didn't seem jealous in the least that she'd sidled up to me.

After the light dinner, we rehearsed a couple of more songs, particularly one song where I had a long solo verse. My voice was doing slightly better. Steak is my 'go-to' comfort food.

I hadn't been that aware of the passage of time until I heard the muffled voice of an announcer and then the opening band start playing. Suddenly, I became aware of the roar of the crowd in the auditorium.

Crystal grabbed me by the hand and led me down a long corridor, out a side door, and into the parking lot where her tour bus was parked. She punched in the access code to the door, opened it, pushed me inside, shut the door, and then yanked down the zipper on my pants.

With a smile she announced, "You are going to get a 'first-class Crystal Lee guaranteed to please' blowjob, mister."

And the next I knew she was on her knees in front of me with her head bobbing back and forth. I took a minute to get past my nervousness into the sex act, but when I did I resolved this would be a short one. Consequently, three minutes later I warned her of my impending climax.

Crystal pulled off me long enough to say, "In here, stud." She pointed at her mouth.

I blasted several shots of man juice into her mouth. When I'd finished, Crystal made a show of opening her mouth to show me my jizz and then swallowing the milky fluid. She then licked me clean, pushed my now-deflating cock back into the new blue jeans, helped me buckle up and zip up, and checked me to be sure I looked normal.

The simple sex act had not only caught me off-guard; it had reduced my tension and anxiety tremendously. I told Crystal, and then kissed her, swirling my tongue into her mouth in a French kiss. She looked pleased and nodded her head knowingly.

She did have another idea; she said, "One more thing before we leave the bus. I want you to finger my pussy right now. If you get nervous onstage, I want you to scratch your nose with that finger, smell my aroma, and remember how much fun we'll have fucking and loving each other after the show – and remember, whatever happens, you're all right, I'll still love you, and I'm still planning on jumping your bones."

She hoisted up her short skirt and pulled her black panties aside to show she was serious. I dipped the middle finger of my right hand deep into her vagina. She was not just moist, she was wet – so wet I worried it'd saturate her panties and run down her leg. She closed her eyes as I penetrated her. I sniffed my finger to be sure it smelled of Crystal. It did. Looking into my eyes, she said longingly, "Oh, if we only had another ten more minutes."

Crystal adjusted her under garment, skirt, checked herself in a full-length mirror, and led me back to the green room. Terry gave us both an 'I-know-what-you-were-doing' glance. We all sat in near silence listening to an increasingly raucous band and crowd. I started to feel some of the crowd's energy. The band was good, and Cindy Wonder had a sound sort of like a country Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac.

After what seemed like a long time, Ellen came into the ready room and gave us a five-minute warning. She handed Crystal and me earpieces so we could hear ourselves sing over the sound of the band and the noise of the crowd. The band members stood up and did some brief limbering exercises. Crystal closed her eyes; I could tell she'd entered a short meditation. That seemed like a good idea, and so I started to meditate as well – gradually, sliding away from the tension and stress I'd been feeling, and clearing my mind of everything but the hum of one of the air conditioning units.

Next we knew, Ellen opened the door again and said in a loud voice, "NOW!" She led all of us to the side stage as the opening band finished their last number. Amid a round of applause for the first band, the lights dimmed and went dark. The ten band members walked onto the stage to their opening positions, some carrying their musical instruments. The pallets with the other band's drums and electronics were rolled off the other side of the stage from where we stood, as some of our electronics and instruments from our band rolled in from the back of the stage. The whole transition of bands took about two minutes.

Crystal stood where I could hold her hand, and waited for some invisible cue to tell her when to go onstage. She gave my hand a squeeze and said, "See you in a few minutes, handsome." She kissed me, and I kissed back.

Ellen handed her a wireless mic, and Crystal strode onto the stage as the lights came up and the band loudly launched into the opening bars of 'Flirty, Flirty Cowgirl.' The audience jumped to their feet and went wild in delight that she opened with her big hit.

Ellen stood beside me as we watched the performance from the side of the stage. I detected a pride in her in being on Crystal's team that seemed special in some way. As the seventh song started, one that was supposed to take five minutes, she leaned over to me and said in a straight voice, "Crystal said to check whether you needed another blow job before you went on stage. I'm ready when you are."

My mouth dropped open, and I looked at her in shock. Ellen doubled over with laughter, and said, "I'm kidding. I'm kidding." The moment of comic relief did relax me, and even forced me to smile. She said, "Keep smiling when you're out there; you look more handsome when you do." She handed me a wireless mic and told me to keep it within six inches of my mouth when singing. She showed me the off/on switch too. I probably nodded; numbness had started to set in. She whispered some other encouraging words to me as Crystal went into her eighth song of the night. I certainly felt that everyone was on my side, now all I had to do was not screw up.

At that point, Ellen stood on her toes and gave me a lovely kiss on my cheek. She whispered words of encouragement one more time. Wow! Where had that kiss come from? It seemed special in so many ways. She gave me a really loving look too.

The song ended, and Crystal started to introduce the first song that we were going to sing together: 'I Will Always Love You.' She told the audience she needed a hunky male to help her sing this romantic song, and she knew just the guy – Jim Mellon. She laid on a few more accolades, mentioned that I was a proven hero in many ways, alluded to the People magazine article, and gestured to where I stood; Ellen gave me a push.

I walked out into the spotlight and waved deferentially to the politely applauding crowd as the band started playing the lead in, and the lights dimmed. I had an opening solo for the song, and ... I nailed it. Much to my surprise, my voice didn't crack or creak; it had just the tone, timbre, and color that I'd had in rehearsal only I could hear the reverberation around the huge hall on some notes. I actually sounded good.

Crystal and I looked endearingly at one another, also as we'd rehearsed. She flashed me a smile to tell me she knew I was 'on.' I caught her wink reminding me of our recent time on the bus. As we got into the song, the audience started to also sing more loudly and started to do the slow wave in the darkness with their cell phones and lighters. Crystal and I faced each other more, looking deep into each other's eyes. We were beautifully in sync. At one point, I became aware that several TV cameras were being used to project our image on a huge screen over our heads – everyone could see every little detail. Momentarily, I thought, "Oh shit!" When I looked again, I realized how in love we looked, particularly singing this song.

When we finished the first duet the crowd roared in delight, the lights came up on the stage, and the band immediately segued into a lively version of 'See the Embers, Feel the Flame' – a song the group Alabama had made a hit thirty years earlier. Crystal and I launched into that upbeat song with zeal. At this point, I actually snuck a look at the audience – 18,000 people. I felt my knees knock a couple of times, and I went inside my head and said to myself, "Oh, no, you don't."

We hit a spot in the song where the band would do a couple of instrumental solos – lead guitar and bass. I turned to Crystal and said, "Dance?" She gave me a big smile, and we started a two-step around our part of the stage. Many people in the audience applauded although my dancing wasn't very good. We did a couple of more short songs, and with Crystal's lead I started to get more animated and move around the stage more, even moving over and singing part of a solo I had with the backup singers.

We sang another long song, and I realized how important the teleprompter was. I forgot the words to the second verse at one point and there, twenty feet away, they sat in space – clearly illuminated so those of us onstage could see them, but invisible to the audience except for a box on a post. I didn't embarrass myself. Thank you, Ellen.

We took a planned ten-minute intermission that really took twenty minutes. Crystal jumped into my arms as we came off stage. She jumped up and shouted; "You did it. You did it. You were great!" Terry and some of the band members verified her remarks with his slaps on my back, as did Ellen – with another kiss. I congratulated them too on the great job they were doing.

After the initial congratulations, I caucused with Crystal, Terry, Ellen, Billy, and Hank – the violinist. I made a suggestion about the encore at the end. Crystal had told me she had been using a reprise of 'Flirty Cowgirl' for an encore, and I suggested that she do that, but that we also add another song – something the audience could participate in. Ellen nodded excitedly at my suggestion, and said, "I can do that; I can put all the words on the teleprompter."

We opened the second half with our version of 'Gone Country.' I got bold with my lines and started to get the audience to sing along – something they clearly liked to do to the songs they knew. At one point, I made my way to the front of the stage and walked along as I sang shaking the hands of the mostly female crowd clustered there. I got a few imitation 'swoons' and cheers along the way. Was I really a heartthrob to this crowd – to these women I'd never seen before?

The longer I was on stage the more relaxed I got; Crystal could see it too. She encouraged me too with an aside between songs. I felt as though there were two of me: one carefully and slowly observing the other, making corrections ahead of time and planning things the audience and Crystal would like, for instance, in one of our love songs I put my arms around her – it made the song more romantic and looked great on the large screens above us.

I faded to the side for a couple of numbers Crystal did alone, and then we did some more duets. Between some of the songs we did a little conversational banter; Crystal started it with me tentatively, not sure how I'd react, and then we got deeper into it. She even had me talking about my motorcycle and my cross-country trip at one point. The last song before we let the audience coax us back on stage was 'Texas Dawn.' Crystal introduced it, and I even chimed in on how much I liked the beautiful the poem that made up this love song. We made the song ten minutes long, clearly our crescendo.

The lights went dark, and we made as though we'd left the stage for good. The audience cheered and shouted, "More! More!" The band members mulled around on stage acting as if they were packing up. After two minutes of acclamation, the lights rose, the band members took their positions again, and Crystal and I walked back on stage, took another bow, and then conversed about what to sing. She turned to Billy, and the band started 'Flirty, Flirty Cowgirl.' The crowd cheered. I faded to the side of the stage.

At the end of the song, another huge round of applause and cheering exploded from the audience – and with 18,000 people, that's a lot of noise.

Crystal gestured me forward. She yelled to me over the din, "You introduce this one. It's your idea." She gave me an encouraging smile and nod.

As the applause died down, I spoke into my wireless microphone, "Ladies and gentlemen, I love your state. Kentucky truly is one of the most beautiful parts of this great country." Lots of applause rippled through the audience. I went on, my voice reverberating around the auditorium, "So, I hope you'll all stand and join us in a tribute to Kentucky that Stephen Foster wrote over a hundred and fifty years ago; I'm sure you all know the words."

There was a rustling din as 18,000 people rose to their feet. The band started playing, and I gave the opening lines to 'My Old Kentucky Home'as Crystal joined in, her distinctive voice resonating across the huge arena along with mine. We held hands up on the stage and started swaying – so did the whole audience. Only a few words in, the rest of the audience sang as well. Cellphones, flashlights, and lighters were immediately raised on high as the audience swayed to and fro. The background singers joined us too, and then Cindy Wonder and several members of the opening band that had been enjoying the concert backstage came out to sing too. The moment brought tears to many eyes; there's something about so many people singing a tribute to their homeland. However, I confess, I had to sneak a look at the teleprompter a couple of times.

At the end of the song, we bowed to thunderous applause, and ran off stage and back to the green room. The acclaim continued long after we'd disappeared, and the sound carried all the way outside the arena to the soundproof rehearsal rooms behind the building. Terry raced up just after Crystal and I had finished hugging and kissing off the edge of the stage. He shouted over the noise, "Whoa! Hey, you guys were magnificent ... stupendous ... I mean ... let me tell you, I went to a Garth Brooks concert a couple of years back, and I thought that'd be hard to top. You guys did it. You really did it – both of you were magnificent." He started to dance around in his glee. Others filtered into the green room. Ellen came in and gave Crystal and me hugs and a kiss. A few of the band members came too; we all had happy but tired expressions on our faces. For the first time in my life I appreciated the tension and stress that concert performers and bands go through.

Someone produced some champagne, and we all toasted each other – Crystal, the great band, and even me – the newbie. We were all tired, and contrary to what many people believe we did not stay up all night drinking and smoking dope. The band worked another hour or so, helping the roadies pack up their gear and getting it on the truck that would drive to Indianapolis overnight so it could be set up and ready by ten o'clock the next morning. After that, they went to their motel and went to bed. Some of the guys had their wives with them.

Terry and our publicist went off to talk about publicity and how to capitalize on the evening's success. So, Crystal and I bid everyone goodnight, and slipped out to the secure area and into the tour bus to play and sleep.

Crystal's tour bus had four major areas inside it. Up front was the 'cockpit' where the driver sat, and where a couple of others could be nearby. A 'pop out' living room comprised the next area; each side of the bus could pop out about three feet making a larger room. The third area comprised a kitchen, plus a bathroom that could be closed off from the rest of the bus so it became an en suite addition to the fourth area, a windowless master bedroom with a king-size bed.

Crystal and I initially flopped down in the living room. I got us both some wine; I remained cranked up to 'full volume' mentally – I wondered if I'd ever come down from the high of participating in the concert with Crystal Lee. The wine helped me slowly unwind. I told her about my wishes for a new career and to embrace music again in my life in some way. We both laughed at how modest those goals had been when compared with what actually happened over the past couple of weeks. All this happened so fast; I still felt like some great power had tossed me into a wonderful maelstrom of country music.

I held Crystal, and we started to neck. She suggested we move to part of the bus where we couldn't be seen if someone put his head right up to the glass. We turned out the lights up front and went back to the master bedroom.

Crystal's body was a joy to see as I slowly unwrapped it from her concert outfit, her shirt, and short skirt falling in a pile beside the bed. Her bra and the black panties joined them too. As far as I could see her body was flawless. I leaned over her and inhaled the nipple area of one breast into my mouth and sucked hard. Crystal's head went back, and she pulled me to her body with a deliberate move that told me this was what she wanted. As I sucked, her hips started gyrated slowly into my groin. She pushed her pussy against my leg and started to hump in pace with my moves.