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Part 1
Disclaimer: I don't own KISS, and Paul
Stanley and Gene Simmons are real people. This is a work of Fiction, written as
a tribute to these great guys who are a rock and roll legend, based on some
facts mentioned in KISSTORY and KISS and Makeup by Gene Simmons. Raina
MacLaren, Karen Valentez and the idea of Sweet Revenge are both fictional
characters property of Trynia Merin.
***
Karen made her way
over to the loft studio where she knew the guys were rehearsing. Unfortunately
she saw no sign of Brooke or Tony. She had heard her saying in the phone call
that Steve and Gene had a terrific argument, and that was one reason why they
had not met up in a long time.
We girls had
continued to rehearse together, playing occasional gigs here and there on
Friday nights and Saturdays. Things had cooled of a little between Mark and
Raina, for she suspected he had been seeing someone on the side since they had
first moved in together.
However she sensed
that something was terribly wrong when she knocked on the door, and found it
unlocked. Pushing it open, she saw someone sitting there on the couch, his
guitar case sitting on the coffee table. There were large gaps in what she had
remembered of the equipment that was normally stored there.
"Brooke,
Tony... Gene... Steve... Stanley!" she called, voice echoing into the
emptiness. Why did it suddenly emanate from the source of the solitary figure
sitting there strumming his guitar?
"Huh?"
the figure on the couch turned, to see her walking into the apartment.
"Where is
EVERYONE? Raina told me that Steve and Gene had an argument... I was just
coming by to see if you were okay... and if Tony could possibly do
something..."
"Karen....look....now
is not a good time..." Stanley said, his voice breaking with emotion in
that halting way that signaled something terrible had transpired.
"Why... what's
going on?" she asked, crossing the gulf of the floor, and realizing why it
felt so empty. There were amplifiers and a whole drum kit missing, along with a
reel-to-reel tape recorder that she recalled was Brooke's pride and joy.
"Where is
Steve... and Brook and Tony?" she asked again, sitting down next to
Stanley on the sofa. He hunched over, head in his hand as he sighed for a
second.
"They're
gone," Stanley answered dully. She rested hands on his slumped shoulders,
as he turned his head to her. Dark mahogany eyes were filled with a great
sadness that tore at her heart. It was as if he had lost his best friend.
"Gone... you
mean they moved away? When will they be back?"
"The guys,
they're not coming back. Not ever," he answered her, turning away again
and staring at the far wall.
"What... what
do you mean?" she gasped, a horrible realization dawning on her.
"What happened? Did Gene... Raina said he and the guys had an argument,
and that Steve got mad, and that's why he was in such a bad mood and didn't
want to see her or me... and then you stopped calling... did he really..."
"Yeah, he did,
and I did too."
"Oh
no..." Karen shook her head, glancing wildly at the emptied loft. Only
furniture and a few loose pieces of stuff were scattered, sheets of music and a
few guitar strings. Glancing at the two rooms she saw that beds were still made
in the wide open doors, a few bureaus and the television still present.
"Even Steve
left?" she asked. "I didn't realize... but WHY! I mean you guys had a
recording contract didn't you? You were so happy when you told me about it...
WHAT HAPPENED?"
"Karen, they
weren't cutting it. We were going nowhere. Yeah, there's that damn record
contract, but let's face facts. These clowns aren't going to get us
anywhere."
"Ohhh
Stan..." she sighed. "I know how important Wicked Lester is to
you..."
"The rest of
them can go to hell. Steve, though......damn...." Stanley trailed off,
burying his head in his hands again.
"Did
he..." she asked, her own throat knotting into lumps. "Stanley...
please... tell me!"
"Gene
thought....he felt like Steve was holding us back. I tried to talk to him, but
I guess in the end I listened to what he had to say. I still feel like a first
class prick, though."
"Oh
Stanley..." she sighed, shaking her head.
"And...Gene's
right."
"That's the
first time... I heard you say that," she joked feebly.
"Yeah, lucky
me," Stanley rolled his eyes sarcastically. "For all the good it does
me, right?"
"Stanley,"
she said, taking his hand. "I know... it's not easy. Bands have their
fights. I mean look at Liz and Trish... we tried to make it work with their
band Mystery Machine..."
"I know... you
told me...""It was the same situation... When the guys were holding
THEM back..." she started.
"Well maybe,
but that isn't quite the same, Karen. We've....uh....Gene and I have been
rehearsing on our own for awhile."
"Oh? Well Liz
and Trish often rehearsed with me and Ray, till we decided to form our own
group, Sweet Mystery... but they didn't throw conniption... I mean yeah her
boyfriend didn't like it, but they were the ones that quit Mystery
Machine..."
"The other
guys never knew. Gene, and I.....Karen, we've got big plans, and we can't let
them stand in our way."
"Big
plans..." Karen slowly repeated. "You mean like Raina and I
do..."
"Hell, yeah. I
so want out of here. I want to be able to quit that sorry-ass job of mine, I
want to support my parents like they deserve. I want to be able to take my girl
someplace nice for dinner, instead of meeting her at a roach-infested
studio"
"Oh
Stanley..." she sighed again, and finally grasping the scope of it all.
Here was a man with a vision, as clearly defined as the one she shared with
Raina.
"Look, I know
it's not easy. Ray and I... we wanted Liz and Trish... To QUIT Mystery
Machine..." she began, stroking Stanley's back. "And we were much
better off... Liz was afraid it would hurt
"If this
doesn't work.....I don't know what I'll do."
"But Liz was
afraid it would hurt the guys, especially her guy Murphy, because he's the one
that taught her to play drums... and he's the band's manager. But he's tight
with Jon, Trish's prick of a boyfriend... who was cheating on her. Lydia warned
her to stay away from him, and so did Raina!"
"I take it the
chick doesn't listen," Stanley sighed. "Sweetie, I know every band
probably goes through this, but it doesn't make it any easier."
"Stanley... I
know... what you are going through," she responded. "I mean I know
why you're so bummed. It's all we could do to convince Liz and Trish to leave
Chris and Jon and Murphy... And join Ray and me... and make our own
band!!!"
He gave her a weak
smile, knowing that at least for her things were falling somewhat together.
There were a few times he had sneaked out to the clubs to see Sweet Mystery
performing, and he had to admit that the girls were improving. He could not let
his problems taint her hopes, and so he patted her thigh, saying, "You guys
will do it. I know you will."
"You are a
GOOD musician Stanley... you don't need to be held back..." she continued,
rubbing his shoulders through the oversized blazer he wore over the paisley
shirt. Like she did, he wore a strange eclectic taste of clothes, from the
chain link belt around his hips and the long bell bottoms with leather boots he
wore even now. Through his dark curly hair she ran her hands, an ebony version
of her own mass of blond spiral curls.
"I know
that... but why don't I believe it..." he sighed, glancing up at her.
"I've heard
some of the new songs you wrote... especially the ones you hammered out with
Gene. I mean they are so much better then Stop Look and Listen..."
"Oh god you
had to bring up that old chestnut," he groaned.
"No offense..."
she held up a hand to apologize.
"None taken
sweets. But here's the difference. You're so talented. You have so many choices
in your life you can make - so many ways to go. I screw up this chance and what
becomes of me? I drive a cab forever? I go back to art school? I hated it the
first time. I don't want to spend my whole damn life regretting my
decisions."
"No...
Stanley, LISTEN TO Me!" she cried, turning his shoulders to face her. She
slipped off the sofa, getting on her knees before him. Taking his face in her
hands she kissed him softly on both cheeks.
"I'm trying,
hon. It's just that...Steve....damn that Gene."
"Stanley... I
HATE seeing you so upset..." she said, stroking his cheek. Did he realize
just what a nicely shaped face he had, those cheekbones and the eyes that
slanted a bit, giving him an exotic look. Some girls said it made him look
strange, but she always thought he was gorgeous. Especially now.
"Karen...
there's nothing you can do... it's done," he held up a hand.
"I just KNOW
that if you want it badly enough you will make it work... with or without Gene
even!" she insisted. "I mean the two of you... are like Simon and
Garfunkle! Or Lennon and McCartney!"
"Simon and
Garfunkle are probably going to break up too..." he sighed. "And Jon
and Paul split a while ago!"
"Sorry, bad
example... but you know what I mean... you guys work well together... and even
though you argue, you NEED each other to work. The songs you do together...
they just click!"
"I guess
that's one advantage. I think I can be reasonably sure that Gene isn't
rehearsing on the side without me. Gene's a nut, but he CERTAINLY is no one man
band." Stanley laughed, chuckling a bit.
"Well he's a
one man lady killer..." she joked. Stanley wiped his face a bit with the
back of one hand, and tried bravely to smile at this lovely girl who was trying
her dandiest to brighten this dark time.
"and I KNOW he
needs you Stanley... you're his other half," she finished, stroking his
hand in hers. "not in THAT way... but..." she wiped his face.
"Right
sweetie," he laughed. "Anyhow, now comes the task of recruiting new
guys."
"Well, you
could put an ad in the Village Voice... even though that didn't work well for
me... it worked for Chris... that's how he met Jon and the rest of us... and what
you need FIRST is a good DRUMMER."
"Yep. I guess
that's where we're headed. Starting all over again, in a way," he nodded,
patting her hand, and pulled her up to sit next to him on the sofa again.
"And I guess taking out an ad in the paper's cool.."
"Don't take
this the wrong way, Stan. You need a new name... I mean face it... Wicked
Lester is sort of... uh... not to hurt your feelings..."
"Damn, rub
that salt in, dearie." He groaned with a wry grin. Laughing, he punched
her arm.
"Sorry..."
she apologized, kissing his cheek. "I shouldn't even be saying that...
it's not my band..."
"No, you're
right. It's not catchy enough. It doesn't have the balls that a good rock name
should. I suppose I'll add that to the list of things we have yet to do. First
and foremost, as you said, we need a kick-ass drummer."
"You need a
real one... not Tony the tiger..." she nodded. Stanley laughed, knowing
that was true. Granted Tony Zarella wasn't bad, but all those romantic lessons
in the love den were distracting during practice.
"Yeah, but
don't let him hear you say that," he teased.
"And get rid
of the flutes, I mean you sound too much like Jethro Tull," she teased
further. "I mean are you a rock band or an orchestra? You need something
that really cooks... like guitars and drums. That's easier..."
"Don't let
Gene hear that," he further teased. "That orchestration was his
idea..."
"You need a
one word name... like Tree. Remember Tree?"
"Been there
already," he tickled her side. "Try again?"
"Like
something everyone would remember. Hey, like Albatross... that's kick ass... or
Pump or something... well..."
"Gene...we've
got some pretty outrageous ideas, I have to say. If we're going to take this
city by storm, we're going to have to be damn outrageous."
"Outrageous.
Well you could call yourselves Thrust or Screw... or Bump and Grind..."
"You've been
hanging around Gene too much," he laughed. "And we're going to need
somewhere who will be willing to do what's needed."
"Hey why don't
you DRESS Up in costumes?" she asked. "I mean it worked for the
Beatles... get yourself an image that NOBODY will forget! Like the New York
Dolls... I mean it's lame... but hey... I saw them in the clubs the other
day... and well everyone's talking about them."
"Oh, I
definitely think that's where we're headed. We want to shock the hell out of
everyone in that audience. We don't want to be just another bar band that
everyone pays a few bucks to see, then chats through the whole damn set,"
he agreed.
"Well.. this
is gonna sound dumb..." Karen said.
"What?"
he asked. "Tell me sweetie..."
"But why don't
you uh... put on makeup or something... like... become someone ELSE that nobody
WILL forget?"
"Oh, so take
the Alice thing a step further?" he asked.
"Yes...
everyone remembers him," she nodded. "That white makeup... Like a
clown... no wait, who wants to pay to see a bunch of CLOWNS playing?"
He smiled and
winked at her, kissing her hand softly. "I love it."
"Will Gene
think it's lame-oh?" she asked.
He laughed again,
"Gene? Lame-oh? Hell, you think I'M bad? Gene would cut off his right arm
to make it in this business."
She ran a hand over
his shoulder, stroking it. Slowly she began again, "Well you could be sort
of like... larger then life... dress like rock stars like the Who... Make
costumes like nobody else has... Pretend you're hot shit... and maybe you'll
believe it?"
"Well, see,
that's the thing. When I'm performing, I honest to God feel like I am. It's
just days like today when I'm sitting in this damn, godforsaken loft that I
feel like... well... just your basic guy trying to fulfill some kind of wacky
dream."
"You
are," she nodded, kissing his hand again, working over to his face softly.
She lifted his dark fall of hair aside, and kissed his ear tenderly.
"Aww, I like
the encouragement," he nodded. "But seriously..."
"You're like
Jon Lennon and Paul McCartney," she insisted. "Say, that gives me
another idea. Maybe you should change your name? I mean Gene did it from
Chaim... and well... how many stars are named Stanley Eisen?"
He winked, "So
you're saying, some day scores of hot chicks will scream for ME?"
"Exactly. But
make it a name they can pronounce! Like Ringo Starr! I'm dropping Valentino and
becoming Valentine..."
"You're
starting to sound like Gene. His point is that we need to totally accept new
identities. I've actually been thinking about it a bit. I'm all for it. I WILL
say that my mom can't stand the idea though," he said with another slow
grin.
"Well use your
first name as your last..." Karen muttered. "And think of some easy
one syllable guy name... like take Stanley... that's a killer last name... and
all you need is a good first name to go with it... for some oomph!"
"Hmmm."
He muttered, tapping his chin. She was definitely on to something.
"Like Mike...
or Jon... or Pete..." she tried. "Or...""It's got to click.
It's got to be perfect," he cut in.
"Chris...
Joe..." she continued, and Stanley shook his head. "Chris Stanley...
no..."
"Joe
Stanley... ick..." he chuckled, punching her arm.
"Or hmm... how
about Paul?" she suddenly said. He looked at her for a long moment.
"As in
MCCARTNEY?" he asked, voice raising in pitch.
"Why not? You
have those lovely eyebrows..." Karen asked, stroking her fingers over his
dark and soft brows. At this attention he blushed.
"He IS a
friggin' legend. You've got a point there."
"Yes...
capitalize on it," she nodded. "And you're a pretty boy, handsome and
sexy just like he is..."
"But about ME
being sexy......" He stopped. Stretching, he sighed in amusement.
"You
are..." she purred, kissing him softly on the cheek and working down to
his sensitive neck.
"I guess I
just don't buy it. Sorry, sister. I've been the chubby school reject for just
too long to buy that story."
"No... you
are..." she whispered, looking up with those blue eyes. "Look at me,
I'm not the best to look at... I'm blond, with a big chest and big hips, and a
not so skinny waist or butt. My hair's a mess of poodle curls! On top of that
most people think I'm a brainless ditz... and there are a lot of girls who look
a lot better then me..."
"Well, then,
my dear, you're a fan club of one."
"I don't care.
I think you're sexy..." she pouted cutely. "And if you DON'T believe
me..."
"And I happen
to think you are totally gorgeous and you make me incredibly dizzy with
lust," he interrupted her.
"What?"
Karen asked. Stanley leaned over and nipped playfully at her neck. Tossing her
head back she moaned and ran fingers through his hair. Softly she kissed his
ear, and rubbed his chest through his shirt.
"Seriously,
though, thank you for backing me up. I'm sure there are going to be some who
think that Gene and I are freaking idiots for letting the guys go."
"It's my
job," she purred, gently slipping into his lap and kissing him softly on
the lips. "I don't think you're an idiot..."
"Well, I think
you are an absolute doll baby, MS. Valentine. How's THAT for a cheesy rock star
line?" he teased back. Reaching into his shirt she enclosed her hand
around the Star of David he wore. Thoughtfully she fingered it, weighing it
there in her hand.
"Aww you are
too sweet," she purrs, and tweaks his nose.
"You.......umm.....you
ever tell your parents about us, like you told me you would?" he asked,
between soft kisses. Karen released his star, and stiffened there in his lap.
"Yes,"
she snorted with disgust, pushing away. She got up off of his lap and started
to pace the room, thrusting her hands into her jeans pockets.
"Uh-oh. I take
it the discussion didn't go well."
"No. I don't
care if you are another religion, but they DO!"
"Let me guess.
Karen, he's a 17 year old without gainful employment. A damn rock star
wanna-be. Jewish. Probably does drugs and alcohol and corrupts young virgins.
Anything I missed?"
"And he's a
taxi driver and a long haired freak," she sniffed softly.
He chuckled a bit,
"Ahhh, yes. Forgot the hair bit."
"But you know
what, Stanley? No other boy has been so sweet to me..." Karen said,
whirling around. She moved over to take the hand he extended to her.
"Karen, you
probably know more about me than just about anyone, and that's the truth."
"Stan... I
care for you... how can I not know?" she sighed.
"I just hate
to see you.....well, catching hell from your parents because of me. Let's face
it. I'm not exactly a stable candidate for potential son-in-law of the
year."
"Well you
aren't, but I'm not the blessed Virgin myself. I mean I have tried grass once,
and I did get drunk during my junior prom. Ever since high school I looked at
you and wondered about you..." she started.
"You've GOT to
be kidding. I thought the only people who paid attention to me in high school
were those who were wondering what the hell I was up to."
"Do you know
what I told him when he told me to stay away from you?"
"Hmm. I'm
afraid to ask."
"I told him I
was moving out. He already wondered where I was off to when I wasn't at work...
he guessed I was at slumber parties with my friends. But he didn't even KNOW
that I was crashing at Liz and Trish's place. I told him he and Mom could go to
HELL for being such bigots!"
Stanley moved up
behind her and slipped her into an embrace. He tenderly kissed the nape of her
neck. She turned and kisses him softly, wrapping him in her arms.
"I wish I had
a place where you could go. I'd live with you in a minute, Karen."
"Aww
Stanley..." she sighed.
"And the hell
with my parents too. If they don't know it by now, I'm not exactly going to be
the world's easiest son," Stanley sighed too, kicking at his boot a bit.
"You're not
the easiest boyfriend either," she teases him. "Why don't you just
move in with Gene, or stay here?"
"Nah, it's
probably better if I just stay at home. That way, everything I earn can go back
into the band. Besides, if I can't have you, I don't want other women."
"Aww
Stanley... that's a line," she blushed.
"And just WHAT
do you mean by THAT little crack, miss?"
"You wanting
me... someone as gorgeous as you..." she shook her head with a laugh, and
pulled away a little. "You've got those bedroom eyes and those lovely
lips..."
"Mmm, keep
going."
"What woman
WOULDN'T want you?" she asked, facing him and laying her hands on his
shoulders.
"Well....."
She leaned up and
kissed him tentatively on those lips she always loved the shape of. Shyly he
regarded her when she pulled back.
"The one woman
I want...hell..." he began, trailing off as he glanced past her. She
peered deep into his dark eyes, her own blue eyes sparkling. Taking his hand
she led him back to the sofa. He sat down first, and pulled her into his lap.
"What's wrong
Stanley?" she asked, dropping her arm around his shoulder. Rubbing his
back she kissed his nose and cheeks.
"Nothing, sweetheart.
Just feeling sorry for myself. Wishing I could have you. Knowing I can't,"
Stanley sighed. "It's like the thing with the band. Sometimes I feel so
close to it, and other times, it's miles away."
"Who says you
can't," she whispers, then looked away.
"You...for
one..."
"Oh," she
sighed.
"When we first
met, you told me you wanted to wait until you were married. Karen, I'm not even
20 years old yet. I can't make you that promise right here and now. I'm sorry,
hon."
"I
know..." she said, rising from his lap again.
"Maybe
someday...but not now," Stanley apologized.
"But now, I'm
wondering if I even want that..." she sighed, hands on her hips. She
wandered over to the window, covered with a makeshift curtain that was a tie
dyed sheet.
"Hey,
look.....love....don't get mad," Stanley apologized, rising from the couch
and rushing over to her.
"It's a neat
little life... kids, husband, church... but I don't want to be tied down... I
want... to sing... to stand in front of millions... screaming my name..."
"You should
have that. Without a doubt," he said, rubbing her shoulders.
"Is it WRONG
to love someone?" Karen asked, whirling around on him. "Before you
get married? Is it?"
"No, it's not,
and my personal opinion is that now is the time to try what you want."
"I don't want
to be the good little pure as driven snow girl..." Karen gritted, blue
eyes turning into sparks of azure fire. "I want to LIVE!"
"I'm talking
about LIFE, Karen. Go for what you want. Don't let anyone, especially your damn
parents, get in the way."
"You are
right... like Raina... and Gene... She didn't let her parents stop her..."
"But......this
decision that you're talking about now. Only you can make that, you know,"
Stanley said, stroking her cheek. Karen twisted the small gold ring on her finger,
what her parents called a 'virgin ring', thoughtfully.
"I don't want
a situation where you hate me later because of what we do right now," he
continued, stroking her cheek tenderly.
"I could never
hate you... Stan..." she stammered, glancing toward the floor, and unable
to look him in the eyes. "I... I..."
"I'm ready.
You KNOW I'm ready. The question is...are you?"
"I love
you," she whispered, playing with the ring. "I'm just...
scared..."
"You......you
do?" he asked, dark eyes widening in surprise. No girl had ever told him
those words.
"Yes... god
help me..." she choked, turning her head to meet her gaze with his again.
"I've NEVER had this feeling before..."
"Karen, I told
you that I can't....." Stanley began.
"But this
virgin thing... it's a label... a stigma... I HATE it!" she spat, anger
wrinkling her young face. "What does it matter? We live in a modern
world... why do we have to play by the rules?"
"Look, maybe I
should leave and let you think about it," Stanley decided. He lowered his
hands from her arms. Leaving her standing there he placed his guitar in its
case, and closed the clasps with a snap.
"Where are you
going?"
"You can stay
here if you want to, I'm gonna go home. I feel like you're getting pressured
and that was not my intention..." he continued, leaving the hollow sound
of his boots on the bare floor.
"Paul...
please..." she cried, turning and rushing to stop him before he reached
the door. Startled, he flicked his head around to stare at her in astonishment.
It was then she realized she had called him by another name.
Slowly he turned
around. The wide grin that split his face made her heart skip a few beats.
"Paul?"
"Oops..."
she blushed.
"As in....Paul
Stanley?"
"Yes..."
she laughed, face flushing hot with blood. Moving up to her he put his guitar
case down and fingered her cheek.
"I like it.
It's got character. And already, it's getting me beautiful ladies."
Karen slipped in
front of him, blocking Stan with her body. Pressing her front to his she wound
arms around his neck and leaned up to kiss him. As her tongue flicked past his
lips he felt her press her hips tightly to his. Breaking the kiss, he whispered
lightly in her ear,
"Do you want
me to stay?"
"Yes..."
she nodded. "Please... don't leave me alone here.."
She licked her
lips, the blue eyes gaining what he called a 'come hither' look. It excited him
to see the hungry desire, and her seriousness in the way in which she rubbed up
against him deliciously. Stanley licked his own lips, saying,
"You......umm......I think we're going to need..."
Between his blazer
and shirt she slipped her hands, rubbing his chest. She asked, "What
love?"
"I can just
pull out....I suppose..." he said, hoping it didn't sound too crude.
"Say
WHAT?" she asked, glancing at him in wide-eyed confusion. "Uh do you
mean... pull out of a woman... when you're having sex with her?"
"Well.....yes....I
thought that's what you meant when you asked me to stay...."
"Yes... of
course," she laughs, blushing. "But don't you think that's... well..
unnecessary... wait here..."
Patiently he waited
as she rushed away from him and ran into one of the back bedrooms. She hoped it
was still there, the object of Tony and Brooke's bragging. A secret stash, and
she didn't mean grass. Something far more useful for now. Even though there
were many things missing she noticed the Zarella love den was still intact.
Almost reverently she entered under the curtain of hanging beads, and winced.
He had still left the Peter Max posters on the walls, a lava lamp on the
bedside table. Rushing to his dresser drawer she found a few socks and
underwear still shoved into place, and reached behind them to find a small clay
jar.
"Aha...
they're still here," she chuckled, fingering the wrapped packages in the
half opened box. Giggling she took them out to Stanley.
"What baby...
I HOPE that's not grass..." he rolled his eyes, folding his arms across
his chest.
"No silly...
Is THIS what you're talking about..." she asked. "They were in the
love Den... Brooke bragged to me that he always kept some there that Tony
didn't know about... because Tony NEVER changed his underwear till after
sex!"
"Damn, he was
good for something after all," Stanley laughed, taking the box of condoms
from her.
"I always
wondered HOW they worked..." she shakes her head, looking at the packages
in the small box.
"Hey, that's
my department. Let me worry about that, and you just get comfortable," he
smiled. "And let me spoil you."
Karen lost her
nerve for a moment, realizing she had few ideas save what she read in the
forbidden romance novels of what he meant. Did getting comfortable mean taking
off her clothes? She slipped off her jacket, and pulled her hair out of its
topknot to fall around her shoulders. Nervously she glanced around the
apartment, "Uh... which room..."
"Ladies
choice, my dear," Stanley winked, swatting her on the rear.
"Yikes, you
stinker!" she yelped, rushing toward Zarella's infamous Love Den. He
pulled her close to him and kisses her passionately. As his tongue probed
hungrily into her mouth she felt a bit of fear.
She stammered a bit
and looked into his eyes, dark with desire. He had unleashed his appetite a
bit, and she saw the intensity of his hunger for her.
"Is it too
poetic and sappy to say that I'm wanted you for a very, very long time?"
Stanley breathed deeply.
"No... because
I wanted you for a long time..." she whispered, leading him toward the
back room of beaded curtains. "you know what I'm scared of?"
"Hopefully
nothing....."
"I heard... it
can hurt... the first time..." she groaned. He buried his lips in her
neck, standing behind her.
Stanley whispered,
"There are things we can do to lessen that."
"Such
as?" she asks, kissing his ear as she moved into his arms again. Embracing
him tightly she groaned at the feel of his hands wandering over her back in
firm hard groping squeezes. Her own hands wandered down the tight muscles of
his back, and squeezed his hard firm butt. She stifled a breath at how tight
and firm it was through the jeans.
"And, from
what I've heard, by the time it gets too uncomfortable, it's over."
"I thought
you'd think I was being silly..." she whispered.
"It's.....uh....your
choice. I can either go inside in one quick motion, getting it over with, or
else I can go slower, taking it easier so that you can get comfortable with
it."
"I think...
that... well I'd leave it up to you..."
"I've heard
that both work..." he reiterated.
"I think...
this is sappy," she breathed deeply, trying to catch her self composure.
"But if you are gentle with me..."
He kissed her
forehead. "I thought you'd say that."
"Uh lover...
did they take all their stuff with them when they left?" she asked. Did he
know about the love den? "Since we found those... rubbers... I wonder what
ELSE they left behind..."
"I don't know.
Exactly what type of adventure are you looking to get into?"
"Uh... well...
I noticed a nice double bed... full bed in that back room where I found the
rubbers... Is that Tony's love den?" she asked. "I mean he forgot to
take the bed and the bed sheets when he blew out of here..."
"Sounds
perfect. Lead the way." He grinned, loving the initiative she was suddenly
taking.
"This is his
love den, right?" she asked, parting the bead curtains.
"Umm, God,
yes. You'd never know it from looking at the guy, but somehow he was VERY
successful with the ladies," he chuckled. A few strands of beads hit him
in the face. He covered his eyes in mock-blindness.
"Aww poor
baby... did they hurt you?" she asks with a laugh.
"No, I'm fine,
sweetie. You don't mind making love to a cyclops, do you?" he asked. Smile
twitching the corners of his lips, he grabbed her and started to tickle her
ribs.
"Yikes!"
she shrieked, writhing. He dug his fingers into her sides, making her squeal
with mirth. Falling over he pulled her down onto the bed with his solid form
under her.
"Yikes... Stan...
uncle!" she cried. "What's that over there..."
"Uh... that's
uh... lava lamp? Shit I didn't realize he left that behind!"
"Well look at
this..." she said, slipping free of his grasp. She sat up and fumbled at
the table. IT was a small incense burner that gleamed in the light of the lava
lamp she turned on.
"He left this
behind to cover the pot smell didn't he?"
"Didn't do a
very good job of it, did he?" he joked.
"No..."
she sniffed. "I still smell reefers..."
"Kind of goes
with the whole beads and lava lamp thing," he chuckled as she found some
incense and lit it with the lighter in her pants pocket.
"Yeah...
groovy isn't it?" she joked, turning to him again.
"Mmm hmm,
VERY," he purred, nuzzling into her hair.
"yikes is that
a Peter max poster?" she asks, looking at the walls.
He starts to tug at
her shirt, and she raised her arms. It was dark cobalt green with white tie dye
patterns across its long sleeves. She let him pull the shirt up and over her
head.
"I don't know.
Remember, I'm blinded by your beauty." he winked.
"Aww... you
are too sweet..." she laughed, kissing his ear and pushing the jacket off
his arms. He shed it and threw it over the chair across the room.
'I'm trying DAMN
hard to impress the pants off you, my sweets. And I do mean that literally."
"oh you
are..." she whispers, rubbing his chest through his paisley shirt. She
started to unbutton it, one button at a time. Eyes closed as he enjoyed the
sweet attention. Both of them fell on their sides. Kicking off her clogs, she
kissed his revealed chest.
"You know, the
old saying is 'Never trust a guy who tells you he loves you while you're in
bed.'" Stanley whispered, rubbing her breasts softly through the silk of
her bra.
"Really?"
she asked, tugging his shirt out of his pants.
"But some times
old sayings are wrong," Stanley said, getting up for a moment to tug his
boots off and let them fall to the floor. Turning back to her he lay down
again.
"Yes..."
she laughed, sliding his shirt down his arms. "Oh god Paul... oops...
Stan... I mean... you've been working out!"
"Nah....just
guitar playing....." he grinned at her, shyly. Over his arms she ran her
fingers, squeezing and caressing in ways that drove him crazy.
"I think those
love handles are gone lover..." she teased, tickling his ribs. He was
still awkward about compliments on his body, she realized when he threw his
shirt aside to join hers. More aggressively he pulled at her pants and bra.
Reaching around her he picked at the fastenings with those guitarist fingers.
She kissed his neck
in encouragement, while he unfastened the hooks. Pulling it away, he rubbed her
breasts carefully and in just the way she loved so much. Karen arched her back,
leaning up to kiss him.
"God, Karen,
this is driving me nuts." He hummed, taking one in his lips and suckling
on her.
"I'm going
crazy too," she pants, rubbing his chest.
"You have no
idea how long I've wanted this."
"I always
wanted... it to be you..." she whispered.
"And I'll
probably feel guilty as hell tomorrow morning, but I still need you here tonight."
"I want you
here..." she whispers back. "I want you... Stan.. Paul..."
"This is your
night, baby. Just tell me what you want me to do. I'll do anything."
"I don't
know..." she moaned.
"I want so
much to be good for you." He whispered, reaching for her belt.
"you HAD to
ask that now... Show me how.... to love you..."
Heavily he panted,
"You tell me what....you need.....to get ready...what you want..... Or if
you want me to just do it."
"Just... take
me... show me how..." she whispered.
"Are you ready?
Are you sure? Damn it, Karen, be ready."
Reaching for the
virgin ring on her finger, she slipped it off. He watched her fling it to the
bedroom floor. He winked at her, "You going to get that, or shall we leave
it there?"
"Leave it
there..." she waved her hand dismissively. "I'm SICK of looking at
it."
He flipped her on
her back and begins to remove her pants. He's kissing her neck and down her
chest. Hot surges of breath fanned her bare skin. She twined her fingers in his
hair and arches her back as he peeled them off and revealed her white thighs.
Silently she prayed thanks that she had remembered to shave.
She watched him
stand up and unbuckle his pants, his back to her. He shimmied out of them,
revealing the backs of his thighs and a smooth firm ass covered only by his
underwear. Sharply she drew in her breath, "Oh lord you're
beautiful..."
"You think
so?" he answered, back still turned to her.
"Absolutely
so," she breathed. He leaned down and turned the light off. She heard the
snap of elastic and the sound of a package ripping open.
"Stan..."
she whispered, reaching up to him. She pulled the sheets back, smelling that
they were clean and soft. At least Tony had some sense of hygiene, she was
thankful. Strong fingers found her body, climbing under the sheets with her.
Passionately his lips found hers, his weight pressing down from above. Deeply
she breathed, feeling him settle between her legs.
"Yes?" he
whispered.
"I've wanted
this for so long..."
"That's all I
needed to hear, love," he sighed, rubbing her breasts again. She felt his
hand part her thighs, and bending her knees to rest them on either side of his
hips.
"I want it to
be you... make me yours..." she panted, heart pounding so hard she was
afraid it would explode. "Be my first love..."
"Karen....I.....I've
not been with thousands either, you know. I'll......I'll try..."
"I want you to
be my first Stan..." she repeated, peering up at his hair painted in soft
orange. "I chose you..."
All she could hear
was his breath in the room, and the pounding of her own heart out of control.
Scant light peeked through the Venetian blinds, and it was residual from the
street below. The light contoured his muscular body, hard and firm there.
Something else hard and firm slid down the inner surface of her thigh, touching
her intimate spot.
She yelped,
tensing. His hands found her belly, rubbing gently. Around her hips the fine
fingers closed, the firm tip of something equally warm touching between her
legs.
"Hon, you're
going to be sort of tight, so let's just go slowly, OK?" he urged gently.
"Tight... oh lord," she muttered, stifling her gasp.
"You need to
relax for me, sweetheart."
"I'll
try..." she breathed heavily, in an attempt to calm down. It was futile,
for her whole body shuddered with the force of her hunger.
"But once I'm
in, it will be soooo much better," he whispered, touching his lips to hers
again. Surrendering to his voice, she lay still. There was a pressure as he
began to enter.
"Oh
god..." she groaned, body tensing up to the new invasion. Solid thickness
glided in, impaling her more and more each second.
"It...
hurts..." she whimpered and bit her lip. Grabbing her hips firmly the
hands squeezed and lifted under her backside. A gentle push forwards and a
spasm of pain erupted with the gentle deep thrust breaking through to the other
side. She heard his gasp, her own heart pounding so loud she feared he would
hear it.
"Aaah!"
she screamed suddenly.
"It's over,
Karen, it's OVER!" he comforted her, remaining still as he could.
"Now just relax and let me make love to you."
"Oh
god..." she whimpered, wondering at the extent to which he filled her.
Tight and not room for much else except strange awe. He began to move his hips
very slowly to get her acclimated.
"I feel...
strange..." she whispered, remaining still. He leaned over to kiss her
passionately, in a hope to distract her attention.
"What do I
do...""Here," he said, still holding her hips gently.
"Follow me. Move like I do, only when I come down, you come up to meet
me."
"Like
this?" she asked, trying to stifle her gaps. With each stroke she rose to
meet him.
"You're doing
PERFECT." He gasped. It was difficult to talk, both succumbing to the
newly discovered whim of their lovemaking. Soft cries met his ears at each
advance.
"Just
follow.....this rhythm....like this.....ohh God...." he encouraged, her
nails raking down his back.
"Paul... I...
feel..." she gasped.
"Karen...do
you...do you...like this?" he panted.
"Oh god... oh my god..."
"You
feel.....so incredibly...wonderful....so warm and tight.... I...... I...."
"You... you're
filling me so much... oh god..." she groaned. "Never imagined... it
would be... so much... ooh."
He gasped loudly,
"Damn......."
She arched her back
and screamed as her orgasm peaked, "Oh my god... Stanley!"
She immediately
excited him. In response he screamed, "YEAAAAAHHHHHHH!"
His loud cry
vibrated through them both, and she quaked under him. It turned her on even
more, skin tingling as she reached a second orgasm. He suddenly slammed one
last time in, remaining perfectly still. Over her he loomed, eyes closed shut
and face tensing as if in pain. When at last he did move again, she felt his
soft careful kiss, hair falling around her face to tickle her cheeks. He felt
the warmth of her tongue. He sighed deeply and pulled out of her, not wanting
to remain inside and irritate her.
"No...
please... don't move.." Karen whimpered. Still he was sweat slick, panting
heavily. She wrapped her legs around his back and pulls herself onto him again.
"Karen....I
don't want....don't want it to be too much....right away..." he panted.
"I know,"
she whispered, and loosened her grip.
"You
were.....absolutely incredible." He whispered, kissing her ear. Reaching
around her he cuddled close, and she relished the feel of him spooning into her
back.
"Oh god...
Paul..." she murmured, hugging her knees and shivering in the aftermath of
her strange weakness. "I feel so wet and sticky..."
"So, I'm dying
to know. What did you think?" he asked. "My male ego's on the line
here, sweets."
"Hmmm..."
she sighed, stretching. "That was.. the most INCREDIBLE thing I ever
experienced..."
"I'm glad you
feel that way. Even after the rocky start?"
"I feel... I
feel... Alive..." she panted, still floating a foot above the bed in the
cool sheets that imprisoned her.
"I'm glad you
feel that way. We'll build your endurance up, and before you know it, we'll be
in here all night."
"you mean...
you can do it more then once?" she asked, turning over to face him again.
"I mean more
then once a night?"
"Hmmm. Give me
a few minutes to recuperate and let's see."
"But the
girls... they said..." she gasped in surprise. "Oh my word...."
"What
girls?" he asked, panicking momentarily.
"The girls at
the convent who'd slept with boys... there was a senior named Deloris... and
she was bragging about how she'd done it with a guy... at camp last
year..."
"And THESE are
your sex experts?" he laughed with relief.
"She said that
they'd be lucky if the guy could last or keep up with them!!! And he couldn't
keep up with her!"
"I'll promise
you this, my love. I would do my absolute best to satisfy you....always. What
kind of rock star would I be if I didn't?" he teased.
"A pretty
crappy one," she teases back. "Besides, I'm honored to be your first
groupie... oh Lord did I say that?"
He laughed loudly,
smacking her thigh playfully, "Yes, you just did."
"And I don't
even have purple hair!!!"
"You certainly
earned your title tonight."
"Mmm, I'm glad
you think so, Mr. Paul Stanley..." she whispered, wrapping arms around his
neck and kissing him.
"I absolutely
do think so. I'm just glad that you enjoyed it, because if you enjoyed it,
you'll want to do it again...and again...and..."
He reached down and
kissed her again, pressing her under him. She leaned up and kissed him
hungrily. He stopped for a moment, and disentangled himself from her embrace.
"Be right
back. I think this one's more then used..." he said, voice receding as she
saw him cross over the light from the open room beyond.
"So, just how
many rubbers did you find back there?"
"Uh... well...
six others..." she said. "You can see them in the box there..."
"Hot
damn!" he laughed, and joined her on the bed.
"I uh... never
imagined... This is going to sound stupid... I mean I've seen boys... men
before... but I never imagined..." she began, hoping this didn't sound
stupid, but it had to be said.
"You'll be
even better at it next time. You've got everything down now. You can just
enjoy, without having to stress out about the pain."
"Mmm I'm
glad..." she moaned, as he wrapped his arms around her.
"Never
imagined what?" he asked.
"Well... uh...
I have seen guys at camp, and I have brothers who have... played with
themselves... and uh dam... how do I say this..."
"Oh, now this
ought to be interesting!" he laughed.
"Uh well... I
was reading in this book that Deloris smuggled in... that the average guy is...
uh... five to six..."
"Deloris. Of
course. Go on..." he chuckled, chest rising and falling against her back.
"Hmmm. Can't say I've ever noticed."
"And she said
she could get her hand around her guys... hem... and well... when I first
touched you... It took both my hands to hem..."
At this Paul
laughed loudly, "Aha! Is this where you tell me, 'You're oh so big,
Stanley'?
"Yes..."
she blushed.
"No need to be
shy, sweetheart, you can tell me that alllll night. But it's probably just that
you're not practiced yet. I'm sure I'm no different than anyone else,” he
blushed and looked up at her coyly in hopes that she will contradict him.
"I have a
confession..."
"Yes?" he
asked.
"Yours isn't
the first... I've touched... I mean... there was one summer at camp... where I
did a dare..."
"No kidding...
well... that's OK..." he said quickly.
"And well I
was kissing a boy... and well, he put my hand into his pants... and I felt
his... ahem... And then he uh... took it out... and well... let's just say...
there was NO comparison to you..."
"Sounds like
my camp experiences. And just think. All these parents think they are sending
their kids off for a week of wholesome fun."
"Yes... to an
ALL girls camp... across the lake from the boy's camp."
"I appreciate
the compliment. You have no idea what you've done to my ego,” he grinned,
kissing her cheek softly.
"Well... it
was nothing," she laughed.
"Nah, tonight
was definitely SOMETHING. I'll always remember it, Karen."
"I will always
remember it," she whispered, and for a moment she turned on her side away
from him, hugging her knees.
"Damn.....Did
I say something wrong?" he asked.
"No... you
didn't..."
"Did.....it
upset you?" he asked.
"No... it
didn't... I just... feel so much..." she repeated again, unable to give
words to what was squirming and forming into her heart. "I've NEVER had
this feeling before..."
"I have to
tell you, I haven't either."
"Really?"
she asked, turning over to look at him in the moonlight.
"I
wish.....that I was older and rich and famous and we lived in a nice mansion
and had a couple of kids and didn't have to ever get up early and we could make
love every night and write music together every day, and..." he continued,
but then fell into silence for a moment.
"Oh Paul... so
do I..." she whispered back. "But we don't know what the future will
hold..."
"But instead,
I'm a 17 year old cabby, hanging his dreams on a rock band which just crumbled
before his eyes."
"I just want
you to know something..." she whispered, pressing her body close to his
under the sheets of the double bed.
"Yes?"
"I love
you..." she whispered. "I really do..."
"I love you
too."
"And I KNOW
you have what it takes..." she continued, voice shaking with emotion.
"to be SOMEONE... someday..."
"Right here
and now. You're right about the future." He nodded.
"Someday
you'll be a big time star... with everything he could ever want..."
"I will,
Karen, or I'll literally die trying. Gene and I are going to do everything in
our power to make it out of here."
"You will... I
believe in fate Paul..."
"And you'll
come see our shows, right? When we're playing Madison Square Garden?"
"Yes..."
she nodded.
"I'd like
that," he sighed, cuddling up to her, and waiting to gather his strength
for the next time.
"Unless I'm
playing my own show," she whispered to herself.
***