Chapter 17

'Since when is it s crime to invite a woman down to my car?' Mal thought, 'she's over 16 and I never forced her?'

But this scene was looking bad for him and he knew he needed to talk fast and convincingly. Already he could hear people coming down the driveway and a voice calling out for Anna.

"Hey!" he yelled, "down here! I need some help here!"

Someone came running. He saw it was Mick and not far behind, the cute little bass player from The Curse. Several more people were coming, including that huge Maori and Anna's friend Dimitru.

"Where is she?" Mick panted.

"Here," Mal said desperately, "I don't know what happened, she flaked, and..."

"What's she doing here?" Michelle asked, suspiciously.

Mal explained they'd only come down here to fetch some vodka from his car. He added he never touched her.

"She's out cold," Mick declared, "Rangi, can you help me get her back to the house?"

Dimitru stood staring at Mal, his eyes narrowed. Mal knew that look - he'd seen it before - and no way was he going to remain with him while the others took Anna back up.

Rangi picked her up in his arms and transported her effortlessly up the drive. Mal remained close to Mick, keeping a watchful eye on the Rumanian.

"Nothing happened, Mick," Mal desperately told him.

"So you said," Mick replied.

"Hey, I've heard you get around a bit," Mal continued, "you know how it is."

"I'd thought once was enough, Mal," Mick said, "you're one for punishment, that's for sure."

"Y'blame me? I've heard you've been there."

"I have? Where?"

"You know. I figured you for someone with a good eye. I heard you knocked her up?"

"You did?" Mick raised his eyebrows. "What the fuck are you on about? She tell you she was pregnant?"

"C'mon, Mick? I know about the baby. Y'can't keep all the action to yourself."

"Mal?" Mick stopped. Dimitru hurried past as Mal moved a little closer to the tall guitarist. "How much have you drunk, tonight? Y'sure you're not on anything else? Anna is a dyke... no, she really is a lesbian. She's never slept with anyone except girls."

"What about the baby?"

"Well, the only baby I know about is Emily and she's mine and Michelle's daughter. Anna's never been pregnant to my knowledge. You've sure got your wires crossed."

"She told me she had a baby," Mal insisted, "is she just a compulsive liar or is she whacko?"

"You do the math, pal. Let me have your opinion, cos, I sure as Hell haven't figured that one out."

"You saying you've never fucked her?"

"Never!"

"And your manager?"

"Ah, well, that's a private matter."

"Ok," Mal shook his head.

"Tell me?" Mick asked, "why do you do it? I mean, what are you trying to prove? You wife is up there bombed, and you're off trying to whore yourself around?"

"Hey, coming from you isn't that kinda hypocritical?"

"It might seem that way," Mick conceded, "but when I took up with our manager in the States, I'd broken up with Michelle. Sabra and I go back a long way. Michelle, well, she's yet to make up her mind. I never purposefully cheated on any of them. That'd might not always have been so in the past, but, I spent long years alone regretting that. You need to think about that, Mal, before you're left with nothing - not even your pride."

"Renee and I haven't been getting on that well for years," he told Mick, "she's an alcoholic, I..."

"Get her some help, Mal, or get out of the situation. The way you're going you're just leaving chaos behind you. Sometime, it's going to all blow up in your face."

"You tell me what to do? My marriage is not a marriage. I get pressure from everywhere. Shit, if I spit on the footpath it gets reported all over the fucking place..."

"Hey, you telling me this? You get paid shitloads for the inconvenience. Obscurity is fine but it doesn't get you a Mercedes and a mansion in the hills. You groove on it - it gets you girls, attention and money. You don't like it, fine, get a job at the supermarket and stop whining."

"Hey?" Mal called after, "we're both the same, you and I - just a couple of inadequate jerks who're defined by public acclamation. Off the stage we're nothing - just empty vessels waiting for cues."

"Y'think?" Mick turned.

"Yeah! Fucking's what makes us feel real."

"Don't need the cheap psychoanalysis, Mouton. Why don't you fetch your missus and take her home, huh? Married to an arsehole like you I'm not surprised she drinks. I'd want to be drunk waking up next to you."

"Fuck you!"

Mick gave him the big finger before hurrying back up to the house.

When Mick arrived, Rangi had taken her through and put her on the bed. Michelle was sitting beside her trying to get a response.

"Do we need the doctor?" he asked.

"She's coming 'round," Michelle said, "just had a blackout."

"She gets many of those?" he asked.

"Now and then," she shrugged, "it's a nervous thing, I think. She'll snap out of it and she'll be fine."

"Is she on anything?"

"Just the normal medication she takes every day. Unless Mouton slipped her something?"

"Possible, I suppose. After the last time, and for what he had in mind, I wouldn't have thought he'd risk it, though."

"Breathing's ok," Michelle said, "and pulse is fine. I see a little light back in her eyes."

"You wanna take her home, or should she stay where she is?"

"Leave her," she replied, "I'll check in now and again. I've got to go to Emily."

"Sure, go!"

Everyone had gone by nine except Michelle, Anna and, of course, Emily. Michelle brought her out for Mick to have a hold and smiled as he did the coochie thing. They hung out for a while in Mick's lounge, watched a bit of TV and talked.

Later, they insinuated themselves in the bed bedside Anna to sleep. Michelle adopted the spoon position and Mick had his arms around her - just like days of old.

He couldn't sleep, though, and began turning over the things Mouton had said. Did 'fucking make him feel real?' Perhaps there was something in what he said, although he was loath to admit it. Allowing someone the likes of Mal 'The Man' Mouton to get the better of him was intolerable. But the guy wasn't a complete idiot, Mick thought, you don't rise to be a top show host by being stupid.

Take this woman pressed up against him, he wondered. She wasn't prepared to fully enter a relationship with him the way he wanted and had herself an emotional alternative. Sabra, too, was reluctant to commit herself and used the 'pressing business at home' argument. What were these women telling him in their separate ways? 'Mick, I don't trust you enough to completely give you my heart'? Was 'sex the most important thing to you' a true statement? He wouldn't have thought so, but, clearly, something was putting these wonderful women off.

Michelle's wonderful butt was stimulating him. Idly, he moved his hand down to cup her panty covered sex and began to rub. She soon stirred, turned towards him and smiled.

"What're you after?" she whispered softly.

"Can't," he whispered back. "Not with your friend here."

"She's asleep," she considered, "if we're careful..."

"Really?" he grinned back in delight.

"Sure! Just don't rock too much... nice and slow, huh?" Michelle's eyes were soft and doelike. Clearly, she'd been thinking similar thoughts to Mick. She turned on her back and maneuvered under him as Mick lifted his body up to accomodate. With the dexterity that only women seemed to possess, she slid off her panties while Mick lay on top of her kissing.

She guided him into her slowly then smoothed her hands over his arse. Cheek to cheek, they undulated together carefully, anxious not to wake Anna. They paused for a long, smoochy kiss and that was when Mick felt another hand on his arse. He looked over at Anna as the hand slid up his back. She had her eyes open and was watching him - her mouth stretched in a smile. Michelle followed his eyes - they must have looked to guilty kids behind the bike sheds.

"It's ok," Anna grinned, "is nice!"

"Sorry, Anna, we..." Michelle started to say.

"No, no, you continue!"

Mick sighed and looked down at Michelle. "Shall we?"

"You still want to?" she replied.

"She doesn't seem to mind?"

"Mmm," she stroked his arse with her fingertips, "not as if you've never done it before?"

"Not usually with a spectator," he kissed her before thrusting smoothly into her.

"Uh... you love it!"

Anna turned onto her side and caressed Mick's back as he moved up and down. "Nice muscles," she said. "Mich, I..."

"Huh? Uh, I... oh, I'm a little busy, Anna, oh."

"Mich?" Her were eyes soft. She parted her lips and moved towards Michelle's mouth. Gently, they kissed, and Mick watched their loving expressions. "Touch me?" Anna told Michelle in a small voice.

"Uh," she sighed, "I need Mick right now, Anna."

"Sure, sure, I..."

"Mick, can you... uh, touch her? Anna... oh, is that..."

"Fine!" Anna said.

"Eh? Where?" Mick asked.

"Don't you know?" Michelle chuckled.

"Ok, sure!"

"Good... now, keep going!" Michelle ordered.

As Mick resumed thrusting into his girlfriend, he reached out with his free hand and felt down Anna's body to her crotch. Anna captured it and pushed it into her panties. Michelle bounced back at him, gasping and moaning, as he shook his fingers over Anna's hot pussy.

Michelle came loudly and Mick shot soon after, giving his girlfriend a deep kiss as he came. Anna then moved into the frame, panting, and he kissed her too until she gasped for air. For good measure he pulled up Anna's top and feasted on her too-perfect boobs as she bumped and ground against his fingers.

"That was new," he smiled at the two women.

"Lucky you!" Michelle grinned.

"Is nice!" Anna panted.

He then rolled in between them and accepted their embraces. Anna and Michelle held hands across his chest and it made him mildly uncomfortable. He couldn't dismiss the idea that he'd been manipulated somehow.

This was turning into a situation he thought might lead to The Curse's destruction. He couldn't see how this tripartite set up was going to work, but, right at this moment, he had to concede it was a lot of fun.

So typical rock and roll to live in the moment and not care about the future. The future was for regret while the present for enjoyment. He somehow thought Mal had scored another point over him and it made him furious.

The girls made him breakfast and brought it and Emily back to bed. Michelle fed her while she, Mick and Anna did the two mums and a dad gig. Around noon, they emerged into the summer day to view the destruction from last night. Thankfully, there was little damage, only some rubbish to pick up.

The Oldsmobile Cutlass Mick had acquired from the States was a 1971 model, fully restored, from the golden age of the muscle car. It was a two door convertible with a big block, Rocket 455, seven and a half litre V8, topping 400hp, under the 'hood'. Exxon Mobile may well be rubbing their hands in glee because it was a thirsty beast, but Mick could well afford the gas.