Teen Dreams Book 1 - Cover

Teen Dreams Book 1

Copyright© 2017 by ProfessorC

Chapter 32

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 32 - The story of David, a guitar playing geek, and Cal, his best friend and how their friendship develops into love. Book 1 covers the last two years of secondary school.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   NonConsensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   School   Cheating   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   First   Petting   Pregnancy   Slow  

James rang just before six pm, to tell me that the company had agreed to what I’d asked for, but that Becky had refused to apologise to what she apparently called a spoilt brat. She had been replaced as line producer on the show, and the new guy would be with us the following morning. When he asked me if that was agreeable, I said yes, I was only making a point after all.

Charlie and I went to the cinema that night, to the Odeon, and saw the trailer for Star Academy, it was a funny feeling, seeing myself on the big screen.

“You looked good up there,” Charlie said as we came out of the cinema, after watching some incredibly forgettable chick flick.

“I thought I looked wooden,” I replied.

“Now you’re just fishing,” she said.

“Fishing?”

“For compliments,” she replied.

“No I’m not,” I insisted, “I just think I looked wooden.”

“Just hang on, let’s see,” she said, and headed off towards a group of teenagers who had just come out of one of the other screens.

When she brought them back, she addressed them.

“My friend here, says that the actor playing the son in the Star Academy trailer was very wooden, I think he looked great,” she said, “what do you think?”

They all said I looked great, one of the girls even going so far as to say, “I’d do him.”

“You’d do anybody so long as he was standing upright and breathing,” one of her male friends said.

“That’s not true,” another replied, “she doesn’t mind whether they’re breathing, so long as they’re standing.”

They all laughed loudly at that.

Charlie turned to me.

“There you are, just like I told you, you looked great.”

One of the girls did a double take.

“Did you just say, he looked great?” she asked.

“Yes,” Charlie agreed.

“That was you?” she asked me.

I just nodded my head in reply.

“You’re in that film?” one of the others asked.

“Yes,” Charlie replied for me, “he’s one of the stars.”

“Wow,” one of the boys said, “we met a real life film star.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I said, “it was only my first film, I may never make another.”

“So what are you doing in Manchester?” a girl asked, “why aren’t you in Hollywood?”

“Because, my friend and I, who is a big star, are making a TV programme,” I explained.

After that, Charlie was soon recognised, and we had to do the usual thing with autographs, and photos taken on phones. Then other people saw what was going on and before long it was growing into a circus, until the cinema management came along and broke it up.

We said goodnight to our new fans and set off back to the hotel.

When we got inside the suite, Charlie went to the fridge and got out the bottle of wine we had part drunk two nights before, took out the cork, sniffed it and pronounced it fine. She poured herself a glass and asked if I wanted some. I declined and took out a bottle of diet Pepsi from the shelf in the door. We sat in our usual chairs, and Charlie, unusually, reached for the TV remote and switched it on.

I stood up and walked into my bedroom to get my guitar.

“Oh goodie,” Charlie said as I returned, “you’re going to serenade me. But shouldn’t you go and stand under the balcony?”

“Possibly, but first there isn’t a balcony, and second we’re seven floors up, you probably wouldn’t hear me.”

I tested the tuning, and made some slight adjustments, the strings had slackened off slightly and gone flat. Once I was finished, I strummed the guitar G Major 7th chord, and decided it was good.

“Are you going to sing something for me?” she asked.

“No,” I replied, “I play all right, but when it comes to singing I need a bucket to be able to hold a tune.”

She obviously thought that was hilarious, since she gave out a loud belly laugh.

I strummed a few more chords and then launched into the theme from The Deer Hunter, a beautiful melody that plays well on the acoustic guitar.

When I finished, I put the guitar down and noticed a tear running down Charlie’s cheek.

“That was beautiful,” she said after a few moments, “I recognise the tune, but what was it?”

“It’s called Cavatina, from a film, The Deer Hunter, made before we were born,” I explained.

“It’s beautiful,” she reiterated, “and you sir, play very well. Play me another.”

I launched into Concierto de Aranjuez, by Joaquin Rodrigo, the only classical guitar piece I knew.

When I finished she stood up, walked over to my chair and kissed me, softly, on the lips.

“Thank you,” she said, “you play beautifully. I’m going to turn in, I’ll see you in the morning.”

She disappeared into her room, closing the door behind me, and I continued to play, softly for another half hour before I, too, went to bed.

I was up with the lark the following morning, six-thirty, so I jumped into the shower, dressed and settled down at my desk to hit the school books. I got in an hour before Charlie wandered out of her bedroom, still in her pyjamas, hair tousled, looking very young.

“Hi,” I greeted her, “did you sleep well?”

“All right I suppose,” she replied, “just not long enough.”

“I get that sometimes,” I replied, “why don’t you have a shower and get dressed, you’ll feel better and then we can go and get breakfast.”

She was back out in fifteen minutes, looking bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to go. I grabbed my messenger bag and locked the door after us as we left the suite.

When we arrived at the rehearsal room just over an hour later, I was greeted warmly by all the other cast members, and Liz and I went off into the conference room that we were using as a classroom.

Three hours later, I left the room, my head full of Pythagoras’ theorem, and molecular structure and went to get something to eat.

There was the usual array of sandwiches, cakes and snacks available on the buffet table, and a variety of drinks, I chose a couple of cheese sandwiches and a diet Pepsi, I also got to meet the new producer.

He came over while I was stood at the buffet table.

“Hi there,” he said, “You must be David. I’m Steve Backhouse, I’ll be the show runner for the show from now on. I just want to say how sorry I and the company are for the way you were treated yesterday, I like to run a friendly ship and I hope we can be friends.”

“Me too,” I said, as we shook hands clumsily, mainly because I was trying to juggle a plate of food and a drink at the time.

We finished eating and Tony called us together to rehearse a scene in the fourth episode of the programme. It involved my sister and I hiding in a disused building while the villain was looking for us.

The rehearsal went well, as did the rest of the week, but we were all relieved when Tony announced at two thirty on Friday afternoon, that that was it for the week, and we should all have a pleasant relaxing weekend. Cars were waiting for us, and as Charlie and I had both brought a weekend bag with us, I asked the driver to drop us off at Piccadilly station., which he did. We caught the next train to Leeds, and I pointed out various points of interest along the route.

As we came out of the Standedge tunnel, I let out a long breath.

“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked, concerned.

“Nothing,” I replied, “just happy to be back in Yorkshire. You know, the old saying, you can take a boy out of Yorkshire, but you can’t take Yorkshire out of the boy?”

Satisfied, she let the subject drop, and we chatted the rest of the way into Leeds. Once there we crossed the station and got a local train to Sheffield, which would have us in Castleford in just over twenty more minutes.

When we arrived at Castleford station, once called, rather grandiosely Castleford Central, I saw Mum’s car waiting in the car park. However, when we got close, I noticed it wasn’t Mum but my brother in the driving seat.

“Hey Andy,” I greeted him as I climbed into the front passenger seat, after helping Charlie into the back, “what’s with you driving?”

“I am now the possessor of a full driving licence,” he replied, “as of Tuesday morning. I am now the official sibling conveyor.”

“Hey,” I answered, “congratulations. Does this mean you’re now at my beck and call?”

“No, it means if I’m free and willing I take you, otherwise you rely on Mum or Dad being in a good mood.”

“I’ll take that,” I said, laughing, as we set off.

It didn’t take long to drive home, and once we were safely parked in the driveway at home, I got out bags out of the boot, and asked Andy to take mine in the house, while I took Charlie next door and introduced her to Aunt Mary.

I spent a few minutes just chatting and then went round to our house to say hello to my parents.

I was surprised to find them not in.

“Where are the wrinklies?” I asked, puzzled.

“They’ve gone out on a date,” Alison replied, “now that Andy’s passed his test they don’t need to be on standby to ferry us around, so they’ve gone on a date.”

“So what do we do for food?” I asked.

“We have four options,” Alison replied, “I can cook.”

Andy and I screwed our faces up at that idea.

“We can go out,” she continued.

Andy was keen on that one, but since I knew it would entail me paying, I wasn’t.

“We can order take-away to be delivered,” was her third option.

“That sounds like a plan,” Andy and I said together.

Alison remained silent.

“All right, baby sister, what’s option four?” I asked, “Assuming it’s not starve.”

“Option four is,” she paused, as if she was trying to make her mind up, “oh, yes, that’s it. Option four is we can go next door where Aunt Mary is making dinner for us all.”

Andy and I both threw cushions at her.

We all walked round to next door, where just as Alison had said, dinner was waiting for us. After a very nice home made meat pie and the usual accompaniments, we were all well fed.

“What are we going to do with this evening?” I asked.

“We don’t know what you and Andy are doing, but we ladies are going to the cinema,” Cal said, “Charlie let us know about your trailer and we all want to go and see you up there on the silver screen.”

“All three of you?” I asked.

“No,” Alison replied, “all four of us.”

“Four?” Andy queried.

“We three,” Charlie answered, “plus Jean.”

“Jean’s going with you?” Andy asked, “I was going to go pick her up and go out for a while.

“Oh no,” Cal said, “she’s coming with us. Her actual words when I asked her were, my boyfriend’s got a film star brother, how cool is that?”

“So what am I supposed to do?” I asked.

“Read a book?” Alison suggested.

“Homework?” Cal added.

“Entertain yourself,” Charlie said.

“Looks like we’re stuck on our own Andy,” I said, “and my PlayStation is in Manchester.”

“We could always go down town,” Andy said, “see if there’s any cute girls around.”

I was about to reply with some comment about him giving up that sort of thing when I caught the gleam in his eye.

“Yes,” I agreed, “who knows what goodies we might find.”

“Shall we take the car?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied, “it’s not exactly a babe magnet is it?”

“No, but it’s a car, which is more than most of the guys our age will have.”

“That’s true,” I said, “yep, let’s do it. The Barker Brothers strike back.”

“Is that the title of your next film?” Cal asked, causing the girls to break out laughing.

“Very funny,” I snarled, “come on Andy let’s me and you go.”

“Well, since you’re going, and you’re taking the car, could you give us a lift to the cinema?” Alison asked.

Andy and I just looked at each other and shook our heads.

We didn’t go down town, but Andy did run the girls to the cinema. When he got back I was sat in front of the TV set, watching a DVD. He immediately left the room and came back with two envelopes inn his hand.

“These came for you this week,” he said, “one feels like a DVD.”

I took the envelopes from him, one was indeed a DVD, the other was from the Inland Revenue, giving me a tax reference and code, and a reminder that I was obliged to submit a tax return each year. I read the note that came with the DVD, it was from James Gordon in California.

“Dear David,” it read, “this was delivered to my office with a request that it be passed on to you. I assume it’s an update to the edit of Star Academy.”

The note was signed by James’ PA.

I put the DVD away, thinking I’d watch it later in bed. I was too engrossed in the DVD of the original Star Wars film that I was watching to bother with it now. I’d seen the film before, more than once, but now I was watching it differently, highlighting bits of business, camera angles, reactions of actors and that sort of thing. It was a good way to learn my craft, by studying what others did. I was so engrossed that I didn’t notice when Mum and Dad got home.

I didn’t notice, that is until I felt a hand shaking my shoulder and a voice repeating, “Earth calling David,” into my ear.

I looked up to see my Dad standing over me.

“Sorry dad,” I said, “I was so engrossed in the acting I lost myself. Did you and Mum have a nice time?”

“Yes, thanks,” he replied, “Where’s your brother? Mum’s car is not outside.”

“I think he may have gone to the cinema to pick the girls up,” I replied, “they went to see my trailer.”

“Your trailer?” he asked, “what’s that?”

“You know, the trailer for Star Academy, it’s in cinemas now. Talking of which, I’ve got a new copy. I assume this one has all the sound and special effects in it.”

“Can we watch it tomorrow?” Dad asked.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to ask James to find out for me, I had to get clearance from the studio last time.”

“Okay son, well, when you can,” he answered.

Just then, my sister walked in with Cal and Charlie.

“Where’s Andy?” Mum asked.

“Gone to take Jean home,” Alison said, “great trailer, David. You looked great.”

“Thanks,” I replied, “it’s nice to be appreciated.”

Cal and Charlie, both told me how good I looked, which was strange coming from Charlie, since she’d already seen the trailer, and said the same thing once before. Then they said goodnight and disappeared next door. I decided that it was time for me to say goodnight, so I did, and took my mail and the Star Wars DVD I was watching upstairs with me. In my bedroom, I sent an email to James asking him to seek permission for me to show the DVD to the family, got undressed and was asleep within a few minutes of climbing into bed.

I was up early the following morning, and checked my email, no reply yet from James, so I took an early shower and set off down stairs for breakfast. Since no-one was up yet, I just had two Weetabix with cold milk and sat at the kitchen table with a school text book. I’d managed to find some time during the week to do some rehearsing of the pieces that Cal wanted the band to perform, so I was fairly confident on that, but I was still struggling with calculus.

“So what’s the plan for today?” My Dad asked as he walked into the kitchen just as I was clearing up.

“I’m going to practice with Cal’s band this morning,” I said, “then I thought I’d show Charlie round town this afternoon, and then I have a date with Kathy this evening.”

“What’s Charlie going to do this morning?” he asked.

“I assumed she’d be coming with us,” I said, “unless she doesn’t want to.”

“Well, just don’t be abandoning your guest son,” he said, “you invited her, you’re responsible for entertaining her.”

“I won’t Dad,” I promised him, “If necessary I’ll cancel my date.”

“I don’t think you need to go that far, son,” he said, “just make certain you don’t isolate your guest.”

“I won’t Dad, can I have a lift down town with my guitar later?”

“One of us will take you,” he replied.

“Thanks,” I said as I headed next door to see what Charlie wanted to do this morning.

I could have saved my energy, it had already been decided, Charlie was coming to rehearsal with us.

“Won’t you be bored?” I asked.

“No,” she replied, as she and Cal exchanged one of those “MEN!” looks, “I’ll get to hear you play something other than plain instrumentals and, I’ll get to hear Cal sing.”

“If you don’t behave, you’ll get to hear me sing,” I retorted.

“Not a threat,” Cal interrupted, “you’re actually a good singer David, for the right song.”

“Yes, and the right song is John Cage’s four minutes and thirty-three seconds,” I said.

“I don’t know that one,” Charlie said, “how does it go?”

“The title refers to the length of the piece,” Cal explained, “it’s performed silently, on any instrument you like.”

“Well, maybe the two of you could perform it for me sometime,” Charlie said.

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