Episode 10: Girls Girls Girls

Marilyn Mansion, the City of Schaumburg, suburb of Chicago. Old and likely haunted!

Eying the camera up over the gate, Gavin “Gnarly” Reese waved at it. After receiving no reply, he turned examining a small box to the left of the driveway. Pushing a button, he stood there idle in step but swaying from side to side. He could use a piss and if they didn’t answer soon, he might just whip and drip on the callbox.

“What’s the password?” Came a laugh Gavin recognized. Mavis Flye was giving him shit already.

“Did you say PISSword?” He sat his case aside, dropped his drawers to his thighs and took a healthy wizz right in front of the camera. He did consider it long before Mavis saw his winky. A mighty big winky at that.

“Awww, hell! So, that’s how big he is. From Rockstar to Cockstar! Shake that shit off and get inside here. The mansion, not me.” Her laughter led him to hear a buzzer go off that unlocked the gate. Watching it retract, he stashed his BEaST before stepping through to the other side. Mavis the Door Whore allowed him entry without any other verbal communication. It wasn’t even her home. The squeal of the small wheels on the gate gave him the chills. “Oil those things!” He wiggled an index finger in his right ear. Marilyn Mansion might just be haunted after all. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention.

Making his way up the drive he spotted a number of cars. A red Porche’ which he presumed belonged to bigwig lawyer Ginger. It took money to own something that energetic. The other three vehicles were less than glamorous. A black Land Rover, a white Ford Fusion, and bronze colored Ford Fiesta. Off in its own parking spot was a small touring bus painted brown with white spatters on it. MILKbONE written on the side in dripping white letters. “And that ain’t alluding to the source.” A small letter b amidst MILK ONE had him in stitches.

Before advancing up to the front door, he heard the roar of a Harley. Call of the Wild to his ears, he halted, turning toward the gate, which opened a second time to allow another person to enter the compound. Left ear with an index finger this time. “Dammit!” In rode the gaudiest sight he had ever seen. A pink chopper with a lady behind the bars. Her helmet pink with similar splatter marks as on the bus. He waited on her to park by the Fiesta and shut down, using his guitar case as a cane to stand behind like a stud. Pulling off her helmet she shook her hair before hopping off. He chose to backtrack and join her.

“Evening Pinky Lou.” Sue! Lou worked better for Gnarly!

“Hey there, Metallica Light! You sure do get around. You go and find me, then you find Mavis in under an hour. Are you stalking the band?”

“Animal magnetism at work. Shocked me as much as it did you. Hearing you and Mavis were in the same band was almost kismet. Small world!”

“I call it destiny. There’s a reason we were all brought together.” She fanned her pink hair out again, primping in her bike mirror. That led to tugging at her cleavage. Beneath a white leather jacket, she wore a spaghetti string red top with a thin necklace dangling between her breasts. Black leather pants, over white boots.

“Looking sexy, Pinky Pie.”

“Gotta keep my image up, Gnarlboro Man. I see you brought your guitar.”

“Mavis told me to bring it along, said we might jam. God knows I need to let off some steam.”

Walking together she led them up to a set of double doors. “Don’t we all?” She winked, then patted his crotch. “Big boy pants! Pinky lick--like!” The pat included a single finger caress following his erections full length. What wasn’t erect reached its pinnacle just that fast. He had a strong notion that tonight was going to get out of hand. Not that he was complaining. Pinky was a hot commodity. Mavis was sexy too in a Joan Jett kind of way, yet he knew she and Ginger were an item. Even if nothing went South, he intended on having a good time. Party on, Girth-- Garth!

“Are the other members of Milkbone already here? Good number of cars out there.”

“Yep! Let’s see...” Pinky looked back at the lot. “Fiesta belongs to Deidre our bass player. Mavis drives the Fusion. Jezabelle, our drummer, the Land Rover. Porche’ of course belongs to Queen G. Her other rides are in the garage over there.”

“G money. I knew that the second we met. That’s why I called her Ginger Bread.”

“Oh, yeah?” Pinky smirked curiously. “What else did you discover the second you met?” That devilish grin had him narrowing his eyes.

“What am I missing here? My ride mentioned something similar, but wouldn’t fill me in.”

“I wondered how you got here.”

“Uber! Gal that lives in my brownstone. She also bartends at Barbarians.”

“No shit? So, the world gets smaller. I hope nothing else devolves.” Another pat to his crotch made him scowl. “You’d make a good Conan the Barbarian. Momoa vibes!”

“At least I don’t talk like AHNOLD!” He chuckled! “Don’t make me regret taking that job at your record store.”

“No regrets, Handsome. I look forward to working alongside you. The store needs a breath of fresh cologne. I guarantee you’re going to bring in the ladies. After you left, I was swarmed by shoppers wanting to know your name. Groupies without even being on stage.”

“Can’t tell me you don’t have good number of groupies yourself.”

“Whole contact list of studs. I could close my eyes, point at any contact, dial it, and say NOW BITCH! Contact would drop everything to tap my sexy ass.”

“Good thing you don’t have my number then.”

“Don’t I?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“I technically didn’t fill out any application for Floyd. Must have swiped it from Mavis.”

“Hey! We’re mates. Band mates, but mates.”

“No Biggy! I’m sure you’d get it from me soon enough.”

“Of course I’ll get it from you.” Miss Ware faced him and gripped him by his jacket, tugging him down into a steamy kiss. He definitely enjoyed her lips until the front door opened. Standing there watching was a freckled redhead dressed in a thin black leather jacket, no shirt beneath and denim jeans. Her hair was tied up atop her head in a bun until she saw Gavin’s build. With him busy Frenching Pinky she quickly unpinned it and fluffed it up. “Holy sheet! He’s hot as fuck. Later, Velma Flintstone!” Biggest green eyes ever. After three minutes of slight jealousy the redhead cleared her throat. It took her a bit to react while sizing up the giant.

“Get a room! There’s only twelve bedrooms in this place.”

Pinky leaves Gavin speechless with a tug at his lower lip. Looking over at the redhead Pinky sighed. “Groupies, I swear!”

“Pinky swear even.” Gavin came to life.

“Hi.” The redhead extended a hand energetically. “I’m Deidre Koi. You can call me DeeDee.”

“Naaaa! I like Deekoi better.”

“Oooo! I like him. I’m keeping that name. It sounds less fishy.”

“And more artificial like your boobs.” Pinky chuckled! “She never wears shirts under her jacket. It’s her trademark.”

“Nothing wrong with free adverteasing! She saved us beating the knockers on the door to get in.” He slipped by both women and into the den of lionesses. Both girls flared their eyes at his stature. Gavin Reese was Greek God all over. His charm even more enticing. Maybe he was the true decoy.

Closing the door behind them Deekoi took the lead. Hearing drums in the distance he surmised this to be Jezabelle James. Following the sound without asking he headed into a large room built for acoustics. Within he spotted the source of a healthy drum solo. A very attractive black woman looked fierce in her wailing hands. Drumsticks spinning between her fingers like lightning. “Nice! Twhirlwind!” He was just full of nicknames tonight.

Gavin prowled the room listening and admiring her technique, finally settling on a stance directly in front of her, his guitar case standing up between his legs. She ignored him in her mesmerized focus. Five more minutes of mental artillery she ended her reign. It was then that it dawned on him that she looked like the character Bailey from the old Damon Wayans Lethal Weapon TV series.

“Someone hire a male stripper?” The drummer stopped her metallic symbols vibration with a clamped hand.

“That’s me. You must be Jezabelle.”

“Her real name is Pearl.” Deekoi interrupted!

“You know I hate that name. Bite me, DeeDee.”

“It’s Deekoi now. I dig it.”

Jezabelle created an invisible shotgun with her arms, cocked it and made a resounding firing noise. “Oh, look! I shot Daffy.”

Gnarly smirked at their banter, then puckered his lower lip. “Pearl Jams.”

Jezabelle glared at Gnarly with a grim expression. Finally, her features broke into a beautiful smile. “Fuck you, White Boy.”

“Interesting proposition.” He mulled it over! “Never been with a gal of color.” Which reminded him that he had forgotten to look for his cute college girl dogwalker today. He likely blew his chances at hooking up with her. “No disrespect intended. Country boy from Iowa is all.”

Jezabelle rolled her eyes with a grimace. “Wonderful! Are we gonna be pickin’ and grinnin’?”

“I’ll do you one, Vedder, Ms. Jams.” Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam jest! “How about we play us some ZZ Top. Pearl Necklace?”

“Not on Top of these lovelies, White Boy.” She jiggled her 38D’s hidden beneath a black sports style top. No bra of course! Sadly, Gnarly envisioned her in no shirt shaking those beauties all around his cock. These bitches were making him hard as steel without even trying. Well, hints were sly!

“I’ll wait until you fall asleep. Z and Z!” Gnarly utilized the twin ZZ’s leading off the Texas bands name in a charming manner.

“What bus did you get off of, Sticks?”

“The bus that drove in your sticks, Drummer Girl. Same sturdy wood.”

“Sturdy my ass! I’ve broken five sticks just this week.”

“Ain’t seen your ass to know how sturdy it is. Probably worth five sticks though. Bdum Rump!” He goofily ended his banter with a verbal drum beat of both hands.

“You referring to my sweet ass a drum?” She sneered while Pinky and Deekoi busted a gut.

“You beat me to it. I’m sure you put the ASS in bASS drum.”

Jezabelle shook her head. “What these white bitches see in you I’ll never know.”

Puckering at her swagger Gnarly altered his course and left her to simmer then turned to Pinky and Deekoi. “Where’s Mayfly and Ginger Bread?”

“They’re in Ginger’s massaging room. Mavis is tattooing Ginger’s lower back. Follow us.” Deekoi again took the lead. At the door Gavin glanced back at Jezabelle who had left her perch to claim a towel. Her lower half was tight and muscular. Jezabelle’s build actually reminded her of his new friend Regina Cowan at the brownstone. Jezabelle went all yoga bending over stretching after a long session. Her legging shorts crept down a bit showing off a butt crease. That was enough to stop cold in his tracks. Falling behind Dee and Pinky he enjoyed watching her sprawl out on the floor and contort her body to loosen up her muscles and spine up. Ass in the air he pictured her naked again. He could see a few tattoos along her spine and legs.