Chasing the Last Road to Stockholm
Copyright© 2020 by SleeperyJim
Chapter 12: Epilogue
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 12: Epilogue - An Englishman lost in the wilds of the American mid-west, with a sexy but possibly lethal girl he calls goblin at his side. An action/adventure romance about two damaged people, with a cheating wife on the side. (No real goblins were harmed during the writing of this story.)
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual NonConsensual Rape Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Crime Humor Cheating Rough
Bad Dog, bad dog, checking your lipstick
Tryin’ to make a cowlick, could be a matchstick
Could be a broomstick, be glad it’s not a yardstick
Maybe it’s a joystick, so just give it a flick
Cos you’re superslick.
Bad dog, bad dog. What we gonna do with you?
Bad Dog (B. Lake) 2019
ZERO HOUR (+RESET+)
It surprised everyone when Summer took a seat at the drum kit and sat quietly. For a moment, I waited, guitar hanging weightily around my neck and the lights hot and heavy on my skin, watching the crowd watching us – enjoying the moment. Then I started that incredible seven note bass riff, and on the third pass she came in right on time with the simple, but compulsive drum beat. Seven Nation Army, done our way – with my gruff voice growling the lyrics and Summer coming in on the chorus to sweeten things up considerably.
We were playing at the wedding of two close friends. Along with Summer, who had moved in, I had actually acquired friends. All due to her influence, obviously, but it still surprised me that they seemed to like me as well.
Once the wedding guests got over their surprise – this was a country pub, after all - it almost turned into a riot as everyone scrambled to get into the swing of it. I think every type of dancing possible took place as dancing couples – as well as trios, foursomes and every other combination – then overflowed into all parts of both bars. All I could see was heads bobbing to the beat.
I don’t think many people there knew the words to the song, but most had at least heard the tune somewhere. The visceral riff and beat was now a big part of the sports world, unifying fans of many nations into one huge voice. As a song-writer and a musician, I loved that aspect of it – a whole world singing the same song.
It certainly brought the wedding party to life.
I watched the bride and groom swinging through steps of some dance they’d made up on the spot. Grandparents clutched each other and slow-danced, or picked up a small grandchild and swung around them around and around, much to their delight.
The bridesmaids got into it, spontaneously forming a chorus line, kicking their legs high and flashing their knickers. Others guests were waltzing, doing a salsa or just standing and grinding on each other. A few were even trying to get a Gay Gordons going.
It was a triumph and when I signalled to Summer to extend it for two more choruses, she just smiled. We were going to leave these people pumped and needing a break.
