Date: Sat, 17 Jun 2017 17:27:04 -0400 From: oldhippie1949 Subject: Davy's On The Road Again, Ch. 9 Davy's On The Road Again, Chapter 9 The following story is fiction. Sure, some of it may seem real but that's because it's based upon true events and episodes in the life of your humble narrator. It involves all variations of sex between men and women, between women and women, between men and mem and in all combinations thereof. The story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any personal knowledge about their private lives. There are lyrics to songs that add not only tribute to the songwriters but add color and atmosphere to the story. Some of the characters are real people whose names have not been changed. They are there to advance the story and expand your imagination. I hope you enjoy the telling and the tale. I wrote this story several years ago and published it on another site. This version is updated at corrected and in some ways is different from the original story. Send your comments to oldhippie1949@gmail.com. And remember, Nifty.org needs your donations to keep this site running, http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. Thank you. -------------------------------------------------- "Davy," Amy called from the galley table where she was working the wi-fi connection, "I found us an RV campground in Malibu. It's on the beach and it's not too far from Santa Monica." "Malibu is cool, hon. It's easy to get around from there. I think we should rent a car, too." "That's a good idea. I'll check it out. Listen, if you see a market before we get into L.A., pull in because we need some fresh supplies." We were on I-10 passing through a wind farm. The turbines climbed the hills and rolled along both sides of the road. It brought to mind the image of toy soldiers or marching stick figures. From here, L.A. was an easy ride and I knew that the interstate ended in Malibu so, as it was a straight haul and everything was clean and green, this short trip would be a breeze. I saw a mall off the highway near Cabazon and pulled in. There was a supermarket and, most happily for me, and In'N'Out Burger, one of my favorite joints, next to it. Visions of a Double-Double with grilled onions and bacon danced in my head, an order of Animal Fries accompanied me. "Amy, is it okay if I check my email first? I'll meet you in the market." "Sure. Check YouTube, too. As for the rental car, there's a Budget across the street from the campground. What kind of car do you want?" "It's a Lady's Choice." "Ok but I have a lot of choices...Beemers, Bentleys, Corvettes...oh, here's a Lexus SUV Hybrid." "I read somewhere that they suck...sort of a phony hybrid. Still, I like the idea of a smaller carbon footprint. It's up to you, luv." I parked and Amy went into the market. I sat down at the computer. Shit, I had a lot of email. Mark sent me the particulars about the gig tomorrow night and it all looked good. I wrote back that I would be there and asked if and when he wanted to rehearse or go over the set list. Sally and Stevie sent a couple of emails and I wrote back about our progress and told them we'd call in the next few days. There were a bunch of emails from friends about the YouTube video. My daughter, Emma, wrote to update me on several things back home. She mentioned that her mother was undergoing cancer therapy and as much as I tried, to be honest, I did not feel any compassion for her. That made me feel lousy and I wondered if my bitterness had overtaken my humanity. It saddened me to know how cold I'd become toward her. There was email from Danny asking me to call. There were several hysterical emails from my publisher, a couple of equally hysterical emails from the record labels and there were some junk including the ever-popular "grow your penis" ads, like I needed any help these days. I sent off an email to Jimmy to inform him of my current whereabouts and upcoming plans. I then checked YouTube and was pleased to see that the video had gone viral and was now up to 360,090 views. There must have been close to 500 comments. I'd save those for later as I shut it down and took Santo for a walk. As we returned to the bus, I saw Amy wheeling a shopping cart toward us. She smiled when she saw the bag of In 'N Outs in my hand. "Ah, In 'N Out! Two of my favorite directions! Good idea, babe, I'm hungry." "Yup, Like a good clean bank robbery...in, out, nobody gets hurt." "Cute." We put the groceries away first and I was pleased to see a bottle of orangeade, my favorite. I broke up a double cheeseburger for Santo and we sat down to eat. Damn, I love these burgers and I relished every bite but now it was time to move on. I asked Amy if she'd like to check out the YouTube stats and also to check out my latest email and she readily agreed. I started up Big Chocolate (the nickname we'd given to the bus) and, just for kicks, set up the GPS display and tooled out of the parking lot and back on the interstate. "Wow...did you see that it's featured on YouTube's homepage?...360,327... sonovabitch...and these comments are a riot!...who's the babe?...where can I download it? Is it on iTunes yet?...Jeez, half this page is asking where to download the audio...next page...I saw you at Woodstock...I saw you at Max's Kansas City...I love it, Davy, I just love it." "Yeah, me too. That number went up 200,000 since I looked! Unreal! But you know, I never played Woodstock, I was there backstage hangin' but I never got to play. I played Monterey...whatever...ancient history...Hey A, could you find some music?" Amy plugged the iPod into the interface near the table and David Crosby's "Laughing" poured out. The speakers in the bus were amazing with incredible fidelity. "I thought I met a man, Who said he knew a man, Who knew what was going on. I was mistaken, Only another stranger, That I knew. And I thought I had found a light, To guide me through, My night and all this darkness. I was mistaken, Only reflections of a shadow, That I saw. And I thought I'd seen someone, Who seemed at last, To know the truth. I was mistaken. Only a child laughing. In the sun. In the sun." Driving Big Chocolate was a real trip. It made the ride fly by and soon we were entering La La Land when the phone rang. It was Mark. I switched on the Bluetooth so he could hear both of us. "Hey Mark, we're coming into town now." "Hiya Davy and Amy. Where ya headed?" "We have a new set of wheels and we're heading toward an RV park in Malibu on the Coast Highway." "I know the place. Want us to meet you there later? We can go out to dinner." Amy jumped in. "How about we cook up a meal in our trailer? I just bought some food and I want to check out this kitchen." "Ok with us. We'll bring the wine and some fuel, too. How do I know it's you?" "Mark, look for the big chocolate bus...no other markings. You can't miss us." "Great. We'll see you later with some interesting news. Bye." It wasn't long before we pulled into the campground and paid an exorbitant fee. Fortunately, the place was fairly empty and we got a spot away from other trailers overlooking the beach. After pressing the button to set the automatic leveling system, pressing more buttons to let out the sliders and then setting up the power, water and cable connections, we changed into bathing suits and took Santo out onto the beach. "It is so good to be by the ocean again," I said dreamily. "I love the water. It mellows me out...like I wasn't mellow enough!" The three of us splashed in the warm surf and then laid out in the sun. Something about the ocean rejuvenates my spirit. Finally, we went back to the trailer. I put together a couple of sandwiches while Amy went into the shower. She called to me to join her. The shower was easily big enough for both of us to play and we took turns washing and shampooing each other. I discovered another one of Amy's remarkable skills as she scratched my back to perfection. "Nice. I like to make my man purr." "Don't stop...a little to the left...now down...yes, yes yes, that's the spot...oooooooh." We dried off and had a little lunch, giggling like two schoolkids. Amy suggested a little nap to see how the bed felt. The memory foam made the bed somewhere way beyond comfortable as we snuggled and gently kissed each other. I love the feeling when a woman falls asleep in my arms and Amy fit perfectly. I couldn't sleep as my head was filled with music. Lyrics were flying around and I just lay there dreaming them knowing I would not forget them. All was quiet with the exception of Santo's snoring and everything felt good. After about an hour, I felt Amy stir. I tenderly kissed her neck. My hand cupped her breast and I gently caressed it. She leaned into me and kissed my chest. We lay nuzzling each other for a few minutes when she got up to go to the bathroom. I heard her tinkle when she yelled out to me. "Davy, I left the toilet paper in the pantry. Can you get it for me, please?" I got up and rummaged through several cabinets until I found the pantry. Bringing her the toilet paper, she wiped herself while staring at my soft cock, looking like a wren peeping it's head from a nest. Taking my hand, she led me back to bed. "I liked that snuggling business. Let's go back to that." I got back onto the bed and she curled up into me again, this time with her back to me. I resumed kissing her neck and softly touching her breasts. My cock fell naturally into the cleft between her buttocks. She pushed back into me until my cock was snug. I particularly like the underside of a breast and my hands cupped them. Softly, I squeezed and ran a finger along the her bottom. One hand traveled down to her belly and I fingered her navel for a little bit. We both purred when my palm cupped her and my finger traveled along the cleft of her vulva. I liked the way her mound puffed up into my palm and I pushed her back into me. She reached behind and moved my cock so it pointed downward between her cheeks. She squeezed the glutes and I stiffened. We began a slow rocking motion and my fingers began to soak from her dampness. My kisses and nibbles enhanced our slight rocking and I felt her nipple stiffen. I tweaked and lightly pinched it. I rolled it between my fingers as her hand covered mine and together we played with it. We were both very quiet and feeling very close. Her other hand covered my fingers rubbing her smooth vagina and together we fingered her. She squeezed my fingers over her clit and moved them in the way that she liked to pleasure herself. Within a few minutes, she was softly moaning. Squeezing both my hands and my cock brought her to a long silent orgasm, or, as the French describe it, "la petite morte." "Mmm, that was so nice. It was sweet. Can I make you cum now?" "No, it's okay. Just lay here in my arms and let me feel your heart beat." She rolled over and took my head in her hands. "Davy Harper, you are my heart beat. I love you. There is no place in the world I'd rather be than in her arms. Close your eyes and let me kiss them." With her body wrapped in my arms and her small kisses on my eyelids, my mind drifted to a place in the clouds, just like I felt that afternoon in her secret cabin. She had a habit of taking me to another place, another level, another state of mind. Lillian was right, we dwelt in each other's soul. In that moment, I felt the totality of love and we shared a special place of peace. Later, after we'd dressed and gone out to the beach again with Santo, I took her in my arms, looked into her eyes and started to speak. She put her finger to my lips and whispered, "I know" and I knew she did. Sunset was about a half hour away. The three of us were sitting on the sand quietly meditating at the view. Santo was sleeping with his head in her lap when a deep blue Cadillac XLR-V pulled up next to Big Chocolate. With the top down, it held a rakish profile. Mark and Deb hopped out and came over to hug us. "Now that is some set of wheels," said Mark and I at the same time. We laughed and he said, "You owe me a Coke!" and we laughed again. I looked over his car and blew a soft whistle between my teeth. "De rigueur for this town, man," he said. "I showed you mine now you show me yours." "No, not yet. The sun is about to set. Davy, can you get some chairs. I'll get a bottle of champagne." I found my Jazzfest chairs in a storage bay and set them up in front of the bus. Amy and Deb sat as Mark and I stood behind them. As the big orange ball sank into the horizon, we toasted to new horizons. I put the chairs away as Amy ushered them into our land yacht. "This is something else, you guys." We guided them through the many amenities, features and comforts and they were rightfully quite astonished. Finally, we sat down on the soft leather couches in the salon. I served a plate of Voodoo Shrimp I'd whipped up and we began to discuss the gig. "This is delicious. I must get this recipe," said Deb. Amy noted that it was a fattening but healthy meal. Mark added that a steady diet would prevent her from getting into her leathers. Amy countered by saying that Deb had a beautiful body and he should be more respectful to her. "It's okay, Amy. I know I look good and I know how much he loves my body...and I stopped listening to his bullshit years ago!" This brought some good-natured chuckling. Deb preened and pushed out her chest. Mark began to tell us about the fundraiser. "We always have a sellout at this event and we always get excellent corporate sponsorship. The Civic Auditorium always donates the venue and the union always makes concessions so about 90% of the gate goes back into the food pantries. The audience is packed with celebrities and movers-and-shakers, too. This year, we have an amazing talent lineup. Each set is four songs with the opportunity for an encore and the show lasts about three hours. Afterwards, we host a party for the performers and attendees in the venue." "So, what's the line-up?" "Ok, there's the house band which is made up of rotating musicians. This year, the house band includes Ry Cooder, Jim Keltner, Chris Hillman, Van Dyke Parks, Danny Elfman, Sid Page, Steve Gadd, Steve Lukather, Dweezil Zappa...The emcees are Steve Martin, Ed Begley Jr. and Jeff Bridges. Linda Ronstadt is doing a set of Mexican canciones...Coolio, Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg are doing a set together... Jackson Browne, David Crosby, Graham Nash and Nick Lowe...Etta James...Robin Thicke...um, and there's talk of Dylan, too." "Oh, Jesus, I've been hearing that for nearly forty years! 'Dylan's backstage', 'Dylan's here'...whatever!" "No, really. The talk is that Cooder and Parks will back him up. But anyway, there's usually an all-star jam at the end." "When do we go on?" "My set is scheduled early, after Ronstadt. I'll bring you on after my third song and then you have the stage. Right now, I have Sid on second fiddle, Nick on bass and Gadd on drums. I'm still wheedling Van Dyke." "Wow, I'd like to keep them up there when I play. Those cats can play anything." "That's a fact! What songs will you do?" "Well, I figure I'll start with "Sally Take a Ride" and follow that with "Stretching Out. I have a new song rolling around my head called "Bread Basket" I want to show you. Then I'll end with "In The Key Of Me." "Great. I was thinking that maybe we could have an all-star chorus on that one." "Well, maybe but basically, I'd like to do that with a spare backup...maybe just you, me, Lowe and, of course, Amy." "Oh, no. You're not getting me on that stage! In front of the Woody Creek Regulars is one thing but not with all these stars. I'll shit! I'll get stage fright." "It'll be okay, Amy. I'll protect you. I really can't do that song without you, nor do I want to. Like Brian Wilson said, "Don't Worry, Baby. Everything will turn out all right." "We'll see..." I could tell that she was considering it and could be sold on the idea." "So let me hear that new one." "Okay, but I need some more to it. Help me out and we'll share credit." "Works for me." I got out my Martin 00-18 and tuned it up. I began to strum an up-tempo beat. "Every evening around six o'clock, we gather 'round the table, Mom and Dad and Grampa, me and my sister, Mabel, We fold our hands and thank the Lord, For the meal we're about to eat, And vow to do what's right and do all that we are able. There are many folks out there who are like Old Mother Hubbard, They haven't the means or wherewithal to stock the kitchen cupboard, Their jobs are gone, they have no cash, The food stamps ain't enough, It's hard to feed a family with only bread and mustard. It's up to us, the those-who-have To fill the pantry shelves With cans of food and healthy stuff, It's how we help ourselves. So pass the beans and collared greens, Pass the chicken dumplings, And please, please, please, before I blow a gasket, Pass the juice, pass the butter, And pass me the bread basket." They erupted in laughter and applause. "Oh, man, that's great," Mark said, "that's a keeper. I love it. The audience is going to love it, too." "It doesn't feel done to me. I think it needs something more but I don't know what." "No, Davy. We play a break, go back to the first verse and then end on the chorus. It'll work fine. I hear it as sort of a colonial fiddle tune, almost like "Turkey In The Straw." "Me, too," chirped Amy, "I hear it the same way. But I think I have a few little changes in the lyrics. I'll look at it later, if that's okay with you." "Please." Mark ran out to his car and returned with his violin and a drum pad for Deb. We played it a few times. Deb added a second-line drumbeat to it that really made the song swing. Amy added handclaps and a double vocal and the song kept sounding better and better to me. "Can we modulate the bridge into A?" asked Mark and we tried it that way, again improving the song. "Oh, yeah. That's a keeper. Wait until the others hear it at the sound check!" "Whew! I'm knocked out! Anyone hungry? I know I am." "Sure, Davy, it smells great. What is it?" "Davy and I have been cooking Red Beans and Rice with Andouille for hours. It's his recipe and I can't wait. Please sit over here." Amy served up a big platter on the table as Mark uncorked a bottle of red. The meal was filling, satisfying and, as a tribute to the meal, eaten voraciously and quietly. Finally, as the last of it was consumed, we all sat back happily rubbing our bellies. Amy suggested that Mark and I take Santo for a walk while she and Deb cleared the table. We walked along the beach under a clear and moonlit sky. Mark commented that the meal was delicious but very gassy and we laughed between our farts. Even Santo gave us space. "I consider the recipe a tribute to Louis Armstrong. To me, red beans and rice is my tribute to Swiss Kriss!" Obviously, the girls were in tune with us because Deb told us that the bathroom was available and we took advantage of her advice. Once we were back in the salon, Mark lit up a spliff. "I just got a big bag of this from my best connection. Do you need some?" "Sure, we're nearly out." "Great. I'll get you a bag." The weed was about the best we'd had in some time. Mark told us it was Vancouver Hydro via Hollywood and it sure had an amazing kick. In short time, we were giggling, goofy and getting a little randy. The subject turned to sex. "So did you guys enjoy the spa?" "Yes, we most certainly did. Meeting Callie and Tony and especially Lillian was really special. Unfortunately, my puss is a little tender now." "Tell me about it," added Deb. "I'm working on a song about Lillian," I said, "but I haven't yet caught her wonderful spirit." "Keep trying, I have faith in you. We love Lillian," said Deb, "In many ways, she saved our marriage during a turbulent period we went through. She helped us overcome our inhibitions and shed some parental baggage." "True," added Mark, "Very true. And I understand where you girls are coming from because my dick is so tender, I've been rubbing aloe on it." "Yeah, I noticed that you rubbed it so hard, it spit!" "Gee, I don't know about you guys. My dick is as happy as can be!" They booed me and I told them they were just jealous. Deb suggested that, in a few days, we come over to their house to hit their hot tub and play. "One thing I haven't done in a long time is some good double penetration. Do you think you two can help me?" Amy laughed and said, "If they can't, I'll wear a strap-on!" The night went like this for a little while until it was time for them to leave. We walked them out to their car and all kissed and hugged goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow at four, Davy." The Caddy gave off a macho roar as they sped off. We walked Santo again and then turned in for the night. "I know you like to sleep late on the day of the gig so I'll let you sleep as long as you like, my love. I'll take care of Santo and I'll go across the street and pick up the car." "You're the best, baby. I like how well we work together. We make a super team." "Me, too. I have been amazed by this a few times. And you know what? We're just warming up. The best is yet to come. But please, Davy, do me a favor. Please don't make me get onstage tomorrow. Those artists are way out of my league and I'm afraid I will embarrass you or ruin your set." "Tell you what. Why don't we see how it works during the sound check. If you can't do it, don't say anything to me. Just walk off the stage. I'll understand." "Okay, I'll do that...that's fair." "I have confidence in you, darling. Together, we own the world." "Hmmm, I think there's a song there." We kissed, nuzzled and fell into a deep sleep. True to her word, it was just past ten when I awoke. She was gone and I showered, dressed and had some coffee she left in the brewer. It was nearly noon before Amy returned in a dark green Bentley Continental GTC, it's top down. I shook my head in awe. "Sorry, Davy, I always wanted to drive one of these and this one was so cute." "Cute, huh? I never heard a Bentley referred to as 'cute.'" She got out of the car with a bunch of bags and entered the bus. "I think it's important to make a statement tonight. I think everyone should know that you're back and not begging. I also went shopping. I got us some new rags. Come, let's play dress up." She handed me some boxes and sat down to watch. The blue jeans fit perfectly and the dark blue and black Nudie shirt also fit right. "How did you know my sizes?" "I took them off your clothes before I left this morning. I think you should wear your dark blue boots with that." It was my turn to watch. Amy stripped down and slipped into a sheer thong. I commented upon the camel's toe and she winked. She slipped on a floor length dark blue gown that was reminiscent of a granny's dress. The material was diaphanous and nearly see though with enough material and strategic parts to cover her goods. The bodice was cut just far enough to show some cleavage and show the curve of her breasts. She looked good enough to eat and I told her so. She slipped it off and hung it up. She turned to me and said, "Now get naked and fuck me silly...but gently, please...check that (feeling her vagina), maybe not too gently. Come on, let's get loose before the show!" I was out of my clothes in half a sneeze. "Oh, you want to fuck, do you? That's what you want?" "You got it, stud. Wham bam - like that!" "Oh, yeah? Well maybe I want a face full of pussy first?" "Just hold that thought and put it in me now. Now!" "Saucy bitch!" I pushed her onto the bed and mounted her. No kissing, no foreplay, just fucking - that's what she wanted, that's what she got. Forcefully, I sawed in and out and she matched my rhythm stroke for stroke. Once, she put her fingers down onto her clit and I pushed them away telling her that it was her turn to hold that thought. Instead, she pulled at her breasts and pinched her nipples. At one point, our ferocity was pulling my cum up my stiff cock and I tried to change the images in my head, if just to forestall the eventual. I pulled out of her and flipped her over. I began to plow her doggie style pushing in harder and deeper with each stroke, causing her to grunt with each downstroke. She pushed her head into the pillow and cupped her breasts. I felt her pushing back as I sawed harder and felt her getting juicy. She called the cadence. "Yeah, that's it, Davy. Keep it up for me. Keep it going. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me." She pushed her fingers into her sopping crack again. I let her tickle it for a few seconds and then pushed it away again. I gave her some swats on her ass for disobeying me. We continued our action and even bounced a bit but I knew I couldn't keep it up much longer. "You're making me cum. I'm going to shoot into you so hard, you'll spit it out!" I spanked her a few times and her sugar walls gripped me and pushed against me. That was it, that was all I could take and I began to spray my salty milk into her bowels. "Oh, Oh, Oh," she cried out. No sooner than I'd finished coming, I flipped her onto her back and scooting into a sixty-nine. I buried my face into her muff and rapidly licked her clit. My dick was dripping cum as I wiped it around her face. Her tongue lapped at it as I moved around her nose, her cheeks and her eyes. Meanwhile, her hot pink cunt was bouncing. I clenched her ass cheeks and drove two fingers into her snatch dripping with my goo. Her bouncing increased and she started to vocalize. "Yeah, make me cum...do it...suck my clit...harder, harder...you got my spot, rub my spot!" Her pussy began to clench my fingers as I sucked her clit between my lips. I felt her whole body heat up. "oh yeah...oh yeah...oh, yeaaaaaaaaaaah....aaaah, ohhhhhh." She was over the edge now and soaking my fingers with our combined spunk. I pulled my fingers out and shoved my tongue deep into her. I was rewarded with the taste of her musky cocktail and I drank her milkshake like it was a hot day in paradise. She stopped bouncing and pulled me away, pulling me to her cum-smeared face, sucking our juice out of my mouth and then rewarding me with lots of little kisses. "Oh, Lord have mercy...you make me cum like I need to cum," she said in rapid bursts between kisses and licks all over my face. "I love your cock...I love your taste," she mumbled and kissed. Finally we calmed down and, sweating profusely, hugged each other. "Oh, baby, that was so good. You do me so good," she said as she caught her breath. "That was great and just how I needed you." "You have no idea how much I love to fuck you, you wild thing," I said. "Good...so good. I feel wonderful now, baby. Lets shower and have some lunch. Then we'll get ready." It was nearly two and we had some time. We hopped into the shower and cleaned each other. I really liked how she massaged and shampooed me. We toweled each other dry and she went off to make us some lunch. I jumped into a pair of shorts and took Santo out for a walk. It was warm and beautiful as we moved along the water. He did his biz and I bagged it up. I did have somewhat of an odd experience as we walked back to the bus. A guy ran over to me from a nearby trailer. He was youngish and I guessed in his twenties. "Hey mister!" he yelled to me with a big smile on his face. "You know your bus there shakes when you're in there fucking, did you know that?" Astonished at his bold crudeness, I just looked at him and said, "I do now." I walked back shaking my head in disbelief. "Amy, you know this guy from that little trailer down there...he just told me that the bus shakes when we're fucking. Can you believe those balls?" "I think I saw him lurking around earlier. Let's just make sure it's all locked up when we leave it. You know, he must be jealous...I suppose his trailer doesn't shake when he's jerking off?" Still nodding in disbelief, I sat down to a chicken salad sandwich, nice and chunky, light on the mayo. Just like I like it. We watched the latest news on CNN as we ate but I turned it off, not wanting to hear any negativity. Then we got dressed. It took me all of fifteen minutes and while Amy typically took her time, I killed some of it by taking Santo out again. I packed the Bentley with my axe and made sure I had an extra set of strings. That's all I needed. I noticed that my young friend eyed me from under his awning and it gave me a case of the heebie-jeebies so we went back inside. Amy was almost done and, to be truthful, I don't think she ever looked more beautiful. "I had my nails done this morning, I'm almost ready. Why are you staring at me?" "I'm staring because you are just the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You are a vision, baby." "I'm going to wear the turquoise you got me. Do you really think I look okay?" "If okay is synonymous with fabulous, then yes." "That's a nice compliment. You can spoil me like that anytime, you hunk!" It was nearing four so I gave Santo a kiss and told him to be a good boy. I set out some food and some treats, refreshed his water and set the air conditioning to run off the solar batteries. I also set the external security system to prevent unwanted intruders knowing full well that Santo would most likely scare anyone away. We hopped into the Bentley and I raised the top, not wanting to mess Amy's hair and we drove off to the Civic Center, just a few miles down the road. As I pulled up to the rear entrance, an attendant checked our names from a list. I took out my axe as he pulled the car away and we entered the hall. We were ushered to the backstage area and I was assigned a dressing room. Musicians and roadies were milling about and I heard Mark call my name. "Davy! Right on time. Wow, Amy, you look awesome!" He whispered something in her ear. I found out later that he told her she looked awesome naked but dressed up, she was even more beautiful. She gave him a peck on the cheek. "The show starts at 6:30 and we go on about an hour later. Come me with and let me introduce you around." He took us over to the Crafts table where we got glasses of wine. "Davy Harper and Amy Bieler, meet Linda Ronstadt." "Davy! It's been years! Remember that show we did at Queens College? You look great, you haven't aged a bit!" "Nonsense, Linda. It's nice to see you again. This is my partner, Amy." "Nice to meet you, Amy. You've got a good man there." "Thank you, Linda. It's a pleasure to meet you. He is special, isn't he?" "Let me introduce you around. Ry, do you know Davy Harper?" "Sweet Jesus! Hello, Davy. I opened for you at My Father's Place back in...back in...well, back in a long time ago. How you doin'?" "Never better, Ry, never better. I loved your "I, Flathead." "Thanks, Davy. It was a fun story." It was terrific to see all these great stars and I admit to being a little struck by the scene. We shook hands all around and had some interesting conversation. I was surprised that these folks even remembered me. One of my all time heroes, Van Dyke Parks, stopped me cold. "Mr. Harper. We've never met but I've known and appreciated your music for a very long time. It's very nonchalant and that appeals so much to me. Back when we were both on Warners, Ry and I wanted to produce you but Mo Ostin wouldn't go for it. I'd still like to work with you sometime." "I would be honored, Van. One of my favorite CDs is the "Live at The Oak Grove" you put out a few years back. I listen to it frequently." "Yes, that was a fun one. Let's talk later...maybe we can work something out." Mark returned and interrupted us. "Davy, I was thinking. Can we switch your last two songs around and do the new one as our encore?" "Sure, why not." Amy was in conversation with Jackson Brown, Graham Nash and Snoop Dogg. They all seemed to be staring down her cleavage. I walked towards them when Steve Martin saw me. "Davy Harper. It's nice to meet you. I just saw that YouTube video. Terrific... Some friends in Aspen emailed the link. Great song. Will you do it tonight?" "Yes, I intend to, Steve. Might you want to add some banjo?" "Could I? I'd like that. Thanks!" Jackson called to me and Steve and I walked toward them. David Crosby joined us. I hadn't seen David in years and we hugged each other. "Were do you come off with such a beautiful woman, you old bastard?" said David. "Look who's talking! Keep your hands off her and your eyes in your head...and no, you can't artificially inseminate her!" "Ouch!" said Graham as we hugged. He introduced me to Jackson and Calvin (Snoop). Steve asked how far we went back. "Good Lord," said Graham. "It must be '66 or '67 we first met. It was at John Sebastian's father's place in Sag Harbor. It was you, me, David, John and Cass Elliot, may she rest in peace. We were going to put together a group but the labels wouldn't let us. Crosby, Nash, Sebastian and Elliot. What a band that would have been...such memories. Davy came up from East Hampton with Danny and we made a lot of music. I think David started to write "Wooden Ships" there on the wharf. It was a fun time until the town fathers politely asked us to leave town because we were making too much noise." Mark came by again and said, "Davy, would you join me for a sound check? I want some people to hear the new song." I joined Mark on the stage. I took my place next to Nick Lowe after shaking hands all around. Mark began to play "Amazing Grace" as Sid Page and I found our way in. Steve Gadd added brushes, The techs and the roadies wandered around us tweaking the equipment and it felt good. I was containing myself as I was shaking inside playing with these masters. When we go the high sign that the sound was right, Mark broke into his signature tune, "Appalachian Spring." I picked out a rhythm part and fell in behind Nick and Steve. As it ended, the other performers applauded. "I want you folks to hear a song Davy composed yesterday. Come over here." The others moved closer to us as a roadie adjusted my mic. I tuned to the other musicians and laid out the progression. I looked around for Amy and she was standing with Ronstadt and Etta James. I called her to join us and she hesitated. Both Linda and Etta pushed her out, with Etta adding a "You go, girl. Show 'em what you can do." A mic was set up for her and I began to play "Bread Basket." Instantly the others fell right in and I played the progression a few times just to hear how perfectly it moved. Amy, as I knew she would be, was letter perfect. As we finished it, we were greeted by hoots and some big applause. The other musicians gathered around us. David suggested that we do the song as our big cast encore and his idea was joined by the others. Suddenly, mics were set up all around us. Ry grabbed his guitar and plugged in. Steve grabbed his banjo and adjusted his mic. A keyboard and seat were brought out for Van Dyke. Singers surrounded mics and I started the song again but immediately tripped up on the intro. "I'm sorry I fucked that up but I'm a bit awestruck to be leading all of you in my song. This is way beyond anything I've ever imagined." "Cut the shit and play," yelled Crosby. I chuckled and started it again. The song took on new life as these famous voices blended into beauty. Amy's eyes welled up when I looked over to her. Ry's slide licks and Steve's picking lifted the song somewhere into the ozone. My voice trembled as we headed for the end but they wouldn't let it end and kept playing the line, "vow to do what's right and do all that we are able" over and over, stronger each time. I nodded to end it and the band, now led by Ry followed him into an 'MGM ending'. Everyone erupted into applause. Ed Begley, Jr. said, "I think we have a theme song. Thank you, Mr. Harper!" I was trembling as I took off my guitar. Immediately a guitar tech took it from me and asked if I would like him to prep it. I told him that there was a set of strings in the case and watched as he took it away. I seemed to be in another world as I accepted handshakes and back slaps. Amy and I made it to the dressing room and we closed the door. She immediately broke into tears. "Davy, that was just the greatest moment of my life. I'm so proud of you." We hugged and she could feel me shaking. "Look what you did! Now I have to redo my eyes!" There was a knock on the door. Amy opened it to Linda and Etta. They both were all over Amy. "You see, you were great! And you'll be even better later." and "You have great pipes, girl. You killed out there!" To me, Etta said, "And you were pretty good, too, old man! You still collecting royalties from my cover?" I responded with, "Royalties? What are royalties?" Linda grabbed Amy's arm and said, "Come with me and let our make-up people fix you up." They ran out of the dressing room. Now alone, I lay down on the couch and was elated at my good fortune when there was a knock on the door. I yelled, "Come in!" and Mark entered. "I didn't want to say anything last night but I knew that song was a winner. I knew it would be our encore the moment I heard it." "Gee, Mark, I wrote it five minutes. It was almost a throw-away." "You just keep writing them like that. Ain't nothing getting thrown away anymore, Davy. While we were singing, some late arrivals were listening in the wings. They want to meet you, can I bring them in?" "Sure. Of course." I got up and stretched as Mark entered with Bob Dylan. I was speechless. I extended my hand. "This is a good cause, Davy. I'm glad you're on board." "Thank you, Bob. It's a honor to meet my raison d'etre." "Aw, get off it. You really nailed that song. It's a good one. Some people are gonna hustle you for the rights, you know, and I ain't telling you what to do but I suggest you keep it close to you. It's a good one. It's our "We Are The World" tonight." Mark left us alone and I offered Bob a seat. "So why'd ya come back into the game, Davy?" "It was an accident, Bob. It really was not my intention. But while I was in Aspen, I got the fever with my old partner, you know, and I started to write. Friends dragged me over to the Woody Creek Tavern and thought I was singing for my supper. I didn't know the video someone in the crowd shot would go viral. But I'm in love so it all flows, y'know?" "As long as it feels good. You live out here now?" "No, me, Amy, and my dog own a big RV and we've been traveling around. I still have a little place on Long Island but, right now, I'm just floating...no direction home, so to speak." "What's the best way to hook up with you? Email?" "Yeah, that's the best way." I took out one of my cards. "I'm going to be here for a few days to settle up old business with the label. I'm also going to shake down Warners. I'm letting Danny and Jimmy Buffett advise me." "Smart guy, Danny. He'll keep you wise. And I think maybe Jimmy's coming down tonight." "That's cool. It gives me an idea - maybe I'll call him up to sing a song we wrote together years ago." "Let me catch you later, I'm gonna go talk to Ry and the rest of the band." We exchanged emails and phone numbers and I thanked him for stopping by. I closed the door and started to hyperventilate. Bob Fucking Dylan! I laid back down and tried to center myself but it was very, very difficult. I closed my eyes and just lay there letting my mind go wild. Bob Fucking Dylan! Ry Cooder and Van Dyke Parks playing my song! And to think, a month ago I was just another vagabond! What a world! I must have passed out for about a half and hour when Amy returned. The make-up people had made her even more devastating to behold. "I am one lucky man," I said whistling. "You? I've just been playing with the girls! Ha! Did you know that Bob Dylan is here?" "Yup. We had a private tete-a-tete in here a little while ago. I still can't catch my breath." There was a knock on the door. "Fifteen minutes to curtain!" came the call. Amy and I got up to leave when she took me in her arms. "I feel like a princess, Davy. A month ago, I was just going about my business and now the business is going about me. I have never been so happy as I am with you - here today, yesterday and, I hope, forever. You're going to be great tonight. It will be a breakthrough. I know it and you know it, too. Because I am next to you. And Linda gave me all kinds of stage fright tips so I'll be beside you onstage, too." My breathing calmed and I felt centered again. Suddenly, my perspective returned and I felt strong. I looked into her big beautiful eyes and whispered, "You are my dreams realized, Amy. I am only whole with you. Don't ever, ever think of dumping me, you hear?" "Never, my darling. Never. You're stuck with me. Now let's go out there and kick some major ass." The backstage area was being cleared of 'non-essential personnel', a euphemism for hangers-on, business slime and flacks. We were ushered to a large room being utilized as a Green Room. There were large monitors but you could hear very little due to the din of friendly conversation. I grabbed a couple of bottles of water and sat down next to Mark. Deb was next to him and she and Amy were whispering and giggling about all the stars in the audience. There was a sweet odor of pot drifting around the room and suddenly a hand appeared in front of my face holding a joint. I looked up to see another old friend, Chris Hillman, smiling at me and standing with Jeff Bridges. "How you doin', you old dog?" "Hey, Country! Long time." "It's good to see ya, Davy, and it's good to see you here, with this crowd. It's where you belong," said Bridges. I first met him when one of my songs was used in one of his movies. "Dudeness!" We high-fived. His broad smile lit up the already happy room. Linda was on the big screen. Ry, wearing a tan porkpie, was picking a tipal and Flaco Jimenez was on accordion. I couldn't hear it but it looked damn good and the room looked packed. Time seemed to fly by and soon, Mark got his signal and nodded for us to follow. Amy, Deb and I stood in the wings and watched Mark's superb performance. After his third number, he nodded to me and turned to the audience. "I have a special treat for you good folks tonight. This past week, I had the good fortune to hook up with an old buddy and together we made some magic again. It's my great pleasure to welcome my friend, and a friend to you all, Mr. Davy Harper!" I walked out to a roar of recognition and waved to the crowd. Taking my guitar off the stand, I quickly checked the tuning. Nodding to the band, I broke into 'Sally' and another roar of recognition poured forth. The song was over before I knew it and the applause was plentiful. "Thank you. Thank you. It's nice to be here at this great event. I thank all of you for your efforts. As a person who knows first-hand of the importance of food pantries, your efforts make our world a better, friendlier place. Now, some years back, I wrote a song with my dear friends Steve Goodman - rest in peace, Stevie! - and Jimmy Buffett. Now, I understand that Jimmy is in the house and maybe I can cajole him to join us on the stage. Jimmy, you big ham! Get your ass up here!" >From the center of the house, I heard, "Hold your water, Harper, I'm coming!" and Jimmy trotted up to the stage. I waved to Amy to come out and she walked onto the stage with Steve Martin wearing his banjo to great applause. Jimmy and I hugged. "You count it off, Davy." "No, you do it." "Let's shoot for it." This was an old routine we used to do. "Once, twice, three, shoot!" and we jumped into "Stretching Out." Mark took a killer lead and by the end of the song, we had everyone singing along. Jimmy turned to the band and brought them out in a cold stop. The crowd went wild. Jimmy turned and kissed me on the lips. Waving to the room, he left the stage to continued rhythmic clapping. I dramatically wiped my lips and said, "Eccch. He gave me tongue! Feh!" Laughter followed. "So a few weeks ago, I was up in Aspen where I met the love of my life. Please help me thank Amy Bieler." I pointed toward Amy and the crowd responded. "So anyway, I was at the Woody Creek Tavern singing for my supper and I wrote this one. Someone in the audience videoed it and put it up on YouTube where it went nuts. Hope you like it." We began "In The Key Of Me" to Mark's lilting Cajun waltz arrangement. Steve's banjo picked clean fills that were just out of this world. Amy and I sang together in tight harmony and when Mark took an extended break, I put my guitar down and we began to dance. As the last chord tinkled somewhere above our heads, I waved to the crowd and walked off. The applause was deafening and would not stop. We all returned to the stage. Stagehands brought out a keyboard and some mics. Mark took the mic. "Folks, we intended to perform this song as a group encore but we took a vote before the show and decided that we all loved it so much, we had to do it now. Now, let me give you a little background. Yesterday, while my wife, Deb, and I were over at Davy and Amy's Big Chololate RV, Davy told me that he had just written a song. He played it for the first time and now we'd like to share it with you." I stood center stage and looked behind me. Cooder was on guitar, Parks on keys, Martin on banjo, Hillman on mandolin, Jimenez on the squeezebox. Singers spread out in an arc around us: Crosby, Nash, Dylan (his appearance brought whoops and shrieks), Coolio, Ronstadt and James framed Amy with their arms draped around each other, Browne, Dre, Dogg, Elfman, Thicke, Lukather, Zappa, Begley and Bridges. Wow! I turned to the audience and mouthed out "wow" with my eyes popping out. Mark looked over at me and I kicked off "Bread Basket." The song sounded better than I'd ever imagined with Cooder's slide crying out. Mark and Sid Page took a duet and at one point played on the 'Turkey In The Straw' theme, Martin and Hillman stepped forward and now it was a howdown with the audience clapping to the beat. Parks jumped in with a ragtime piano riff and it was back to me. As we came to the last line, I held up my fist and pointed "1". We sang it again and I pointed "2". We sang it a third time and I shook my fist to signal the end. The music stopped and we all sang the last line a cappella with a ritard. It was the sound of angels, I swear, with Amy and Linda taking the high notes. The room stood in a standing ovation and I bowed. I turned to the musicians and began to applaud them and they, in turn, applauded back. I lifted my guitar over my head and yelled, "Now let's raise some more money. Thank you!" and left the stage. I looked triumphant but I will tell you that my body was shaking like a leaf and all the energy was drained out of me. A guitar tech took my guitar from me before I was surrounded in hugs. "That's what it's about," said Dylan. Cooder slapped me five and I told him that I nearly cried hearing his lines, and I meant it. Amy wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered in my ear, "I think I peed myself!" I whispered back, "Me, too!" As the stage was being set for Coolio, Dre and Dogg, we were ushered back into the Green Room. "I think we got us a show," exclaimed Etta and everyone clapped. I hushed them and said, "Listen, you guys, in my wildest dreams, I could never imagine all of you singing that song, let alone singing with me. If I never play another note again, I will have those we left on that stage with me. I can't believe that a simple song I wrote in five minutes would touch you like this." Tears were rolling down my cheeks. "How do I thank you? If that song can fill some child's, some families', someone's stomach, then I have served my purpose. Thanks to you, I will never forget this. And thank you Mark for making this happen." I hugged him and would not let him go. Begley shook my hand and told me that I stopped the show and that we would break records raising money tonight. But he wasn't through with me. "I understand you just bought a big gas-guzzling four-wheeled boat. Considering the environmental problems that exist today, do you think this was a wise move?" "Ed, I've been waiting for some flack. What I can tell you is that the bus was custom designed by Bran Ferrin and Elon Musk and it has quite a few green features...but not enough. Right now, my dog is inside it with solar-powered air conditioning. Even the disposal units are sealed composters. It has a chassis lined with the Tesla electric system of lithium batteries...more?" Ed smiled and said, "I know the bus well. I met with Bran and Elon during the R&D phase. I'm impressed. I apologize for coming down on you." "No apology necessary. I admire you for it and I expect to explain it many times to come." "I wonder if I can take a look at it? Where is it parked?" "Just down the road in a trailer park in Malibu. Maybe after the party..." "Excellent, Davy. Thank you. We'll talk later, okay?" "It's a deal, Ed." "Now, I need some water. Amy?" I turned to see Amy and Deb surrounded by a clutch of stars. I took her hand. Linda Ronstadt was admiring her turquoise brooch. "Excuse me but may I interrupt The Oprah Show for a moment?" "Oh, fuck Oprah," said Etta. "Leave the sisters alone. We're talking now!" "Okay, okay. I'm backing up slowly. Don't shoot! Amy, want some water?" She nodded smiling broadly. I knew she was enjoying herself." I turned to get them as a waiter approached and handed me two bottles. I handed one to Amy and walked over to an empty couch. Flopping down on it, Crosby pushed me to the side and made a lot of room for his bulk. "So, Davy? Want to go out on tour and make a few bucks? Graham and I are thinking about doing a couple of festivals and benefits this summer. We want to turn it into a complete show with Jax, you, Chris and who knows? Only classy venues. Interested? It would be nice to have you along." "Sure I'm interested. What about getting a sponsor and a cause? How about filming it?" "Whoa, slow down, Mister Music, slow down. Hey Graham, you should hear this rap!" Nash came over, "What's it about?" "He's in but he's ready to bring out the big guns. Why don't we hook up in the next few days and talk about this." "Sure, David. Still sailing?" I asked. "It can be arranged. It can be arranged." The show went on for a few hours. Crosby, Browne and Nash were the last to sing before Dylan, Cooder, Parks and Keltner hit the stage. I sat in the wings and watched. Dylan was in a wonderful mood and the music was like watching Picasso paint. Dylan called for all the performers and as we filled the stage, he spoke to the audience for the first time. "A long time ago, I wrote this song. I haven't done it in a long time but I believe in what we're doing tonight. I believe this is how we lucky ones make a difference. I believe that the times, they are a-changing and we need to make a few course correction, if you get my drift." "Come gather 'round people, wherever you roam, And admit that the waters around you have grown, And accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone, If your time to you is worth savin', Then you better start swimmin' or you'll sink like a stone, For the times they are a-changin'." I held Amy's hand and we harmonized. Ronstadt's voice soared above us. The audience became another element of the performance as Bob led us all. Truly magical is the only way to describe it. "The line it is drawn, the curse it is cast, The slow one now will later be fast, As the present now will later be past, The order is rapidly fadin' And the first one now will later be last For the times they are a-changin'." The show was over and it was a great success. Governor Schwarzenegger took the stage to announce that over $5,000,000 was raised and several food chains and conglomerates were offering to make regular deliveries of donated food to the pantries all over the state of California. Exhilaration swept through the hall and waves of applause and cheers erupted. The party was nice, too. Although I'd been to many celebrity parties in my early days, this one was something else again. Rubbing shoulders with Jack Nicholson and Angelina Jolie was a new thing. When Johnny Depp, Keith Richards and David Geffen, (who I first met years ago when he and Shadow Morton were working on Laura Nyro's debut album) congratulated me, I thought I'd totally plotz. I told Amy I'd never wash my hand. Depp grabbed a waiter and passed out glasses of champagne. "To Hunter!" and we toasted his memory. A photo of that moment showed up in Vanity Fair a couple of months later. I framed it. I found it amazing that so many of these celebrities asked me to autograph their programs. I don't recall ever writing so many. I felt funny about it. I saw Amy being cornered by George Clooney and I walked over. "I'm sorry but she's taken." He smiled and said that yes, he knew. He was just asking Amy if she could introduce us. "I have a film coming up later this year and I was wondering if we could meet to talk about it. I'd like you to maybe play a small part and contribute to the score. Interested?" The night went on like this. Buffett pulled me aside and asked if we could meet privately to discuss some ideas as to dealing with my business matters. "Tomorrow good? I want to see your new bus that Begley just told me about." At around midnight, I was very, very weary and I gave Amy a look. She understood and nodded and we began to make our way out. As the Bentley pulled up and I made sure my guitar was in the back seat, Ed saw us and asked if he could follow is as it was on his way home. Mark and Deb were right behind him. I told Mark that we were leaving and thanked him again. He suggested they join us for a nightcap. In our beautiful car, we led a small parade back to the bus. I let Santo out and he jumped around as giddy as the rest of us. Amy turned on the interior and popped open some bottles. Others were there, too and we had a little party. Linda said she'd never seen such a cool ride. Buffett wanted one for his next tour. Begley was like a kid in a candy store. Graydon Carter suggested that he'd like to do a story about us with photos by Annie Liebovitz. How do you say no to that? In short order, we'd emptied our stock of Moet and about an hour and a half later, we were finally alone. "I feel like Sleeping Beauty without the pumpkins," said Amy. "I think we scored big time tonight, my superstar." "Easy girl, easy. Remember that we're in La La Land, where more dreams are broken than made. There's a lot of talk in this town that comes to naught. So, please, enjoy the moment. Tomorrow might be a whole new story." "I know, Davy. I'm just loving the moment. It was the most exciting night of my life and I want to wallow in it for a while. Don't be a bummer...a killjoy!" I smiled and leaned down to nuzzle Santo. "Santo, what do you think? You're my superstar." I was rewarded with a face full of sloppy dog kisses. "Hey," yelled Amy, "I'm sorry but he's taken!" Amy and I crawled into bed and replayed the events that had just played out. I completely crashed once I hit that bed and that night I slept hard. And very happy. The dreams that rolled through my head were happy ones and considering the town, cinemascopic. The phone woke Amy in the morning. After the third call, she asked me if I was ever getting up. "Jimmy called and said he'd be over at one. He said he was bringing a suit from Warners with him. Deb called and said dinner is at seven and to bring your guitar. Clooney called and asked if we could meet for lunch tomorrow at Stephan's On Montana, one o'clock." The phone rang again and I took it. It was Begley asking if we were decent. He said he was out riding his bike and wanted to stop by to use our john. "Sure, Ed. See you in a few. Hey, what time is it?" "It's 9:15, Davy. Time to get up and take on the world! See ya' soon." I turned to Amy and thought aloud, "I didn't think anybody rises before noon in this town, especially on Sunday!" Amy poured me coffee, "By the way, I'm meeting Linda on Tuesday. We're going shopping. She's taking me to some of her favorite stores. I think we're BFFs." A few minutes later, Ed pulled up on his ten-speed. "Good morning! Great night last night, wasn't it? You killed!" "Thanks, Ed. Coffee?" "Unless it's organic, no thanks." "Sit. Here's the manual for the bus. It's very complete and very informative." "Cool." He started pouring through and commenting upon the features. After a few minutes, he asked if he could borrow it and return it later. "You'll be around for a few days, right? I want to absorb this and talk to Elon. Maybe we can tweak the systems a little for you." "Sure, take it. If I need an answer to something, I'll call you but since we'll just be sitting here admiring the view, I doubt I'll need it." "Thanks. I better get going or my wife will have my ass. Later, Davy, and thanks again." I watched Ed zip off north. The phone rang again. It was Sally calling. Amy filled her in on the events of last night and suddenly Amy screamed. "Davy, Sally says to check out YouTube right now!" I pulled up YouTube and there on the home page under "New" were clips from last night's show. I clicked on it and couldn't believe my eyes. There were almost a dozen clips of performances as well as clips from the after-party. I clicked on a picture of me standing at the mic and watched all four songs. Obviously, it was filmed from one of the front rows and the sound quality was decent. As I watched "Bread Basket", tears filled my eyes again. Amy was literally jumping up and down and pointing out people to Sally. I just shook my head, amazed and shocked. "You gotta love the Internet," I said. "God damn, do you look good, baby!" I turned away from the computer and leashed Santo. "Come on, little buddy, let's get some air...the air in here is choking with ego." We walked along the beach and my mind was racing. What impact would these videos have on the charity? On me? I didn't know where this road would lead but I was enjoying the ride. I had no idea how this might end, but the journey was exciting and entertaining. Hell, I was having fun! When we returned, Amy was off the phone and watching the videos. "Davy, come here, you have to see this!" It was a clip of the after-party and there I was toasting to the memory of Hunter Thompson with 'the boys.' There I was again signing autographs for Jennifer Aniston and Samuel L. Jackson. There was Amy, Linda and Halle Berry chatting with Jack Nicholson and Brad Pitt. Jack's eyes were locked on Amy's chest but I felt no twinge of jealousy. "I'm taking a shower, A, care to join me?" We locked up the bus and I pressed the button drawing the shades. We got into the shower and washed off. Amy soaped my penis and got it good and hard. "Oh, that's how you want to play, huh?" I lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around my hips. I pushed her back against the wall and we started our fuck dance. Sliding in and out of her and bouncing her on my dick was too much fun. We were giggling and kissing and giggling and kissing. She told me she wanted to get out and dry off but still mounted on me, I turned off the shower and we squeezed out the door. She grabbed a towel and dried us off as I bounced her around. I was not making the towel drying easy for her. Still a bit damp, I carried her out to the bedroom and placed her onto the bed. "Fuck my ass, Davy. I want your cum in my ass." I flipped her over onto all fours and standing by the side of the bed, I pushed my boner into her bum. Her sphincter squeezed and sucked me in. She leaned over to the night table and pulled out her rabbit. As I fucked her sweet butt, I felt the vibrations on my sac. Our fucking became fast and furious. She cried out that it felt so good. I was panting hard. I closed my eyes and we were fucking in space again, somewhere high in the clouds. The rabbit was doing it's thing on her as she furiously rubbed it along her vulva and she was emitting her familiar fuck-growl. "Ah, ah, ah." Her voice moved up a register with each sound. I felt her arch and push back against as her orgasm rose. As she peaked, I was as deep into her bowels as I might ever go and let loose my ropes of seminal fluid. We were cumming together and my mind was out in space. Finally, with no more cum to squeeze out, we collapsed on the bed. "Oh how I love the ways we make love," she said gasping for air. We lay a few minutes until a slipped out of her and rolled to the side. "Tell me, my love, what were you thinking about? What was going through your mind?" Here soft beautiful eyes gazed at me. "When we make love, darling, my mind goes back to that day in your secret cabin and I'm out somewhere in the sky floating in the clouds. Honest, that's where my mind goes." "Maybe you won't believe this but I'm visualizing the same thing. I'm soaring with the hawks, I swear. It's amazing that we are both in the same place." "Is it? That experience in the cabin was maybe the best, most loving experience I've ever known. Why shouldn't my brain lock into that moment again." "Did I tell you how much I love you today...and yesterday...and tomorrow?" "I don't know, did you?" I rolled away from her and began to kiss her butt cheeks. I licked all around her ass and began to clean my seed from her hole. She moaned and said that she was going back into space. I softly caressed her ass and lapped away. She rolled her butt around my face and I began to soar with her. I rolled her over and with my hands and my tongue, I opened her pussy to me and buried my face into her. She grabbed my hair and rode the wave. I rubbed my nose around her clit which was now hard and flicking against me. My hands reached up to tug at her nipples as she cried out, "yes...yes..." Her fingers held her lips apart as her sweet honey soaked my face. She raised her knees up and squeezed my head. I felt her juices flow and drank them in. Suddenly, she arched again and her toes curled. Her pussy was ejaculating and I didn't want to miss a drop. Finally, she pulled me away and pulled me onto her. Rolling over on top of me, she covered my face in a million kisses. We lay quietly as we gazed into each other's eyes. She had that dewy-eyed post-cum look. She licked her lips and smiled at me, "You know, my pussy has never tasted so good." I had to agree. It was nearly eleven now and time to get on with the day. I cleaned the galley and vacuumed the bus as Amy put up a wash and made the bed. Dressed in shorts and tees, we looked like twins and to a certain extent, we felt like twins, too. Two kindred souls. The phone rang off the hook with people calling to congratulate me and sharing images of the previous night. My email folder was thick with posts. There were so many that it would be a daunting task to go through all of them. But I was in no rush, I would get to it. The phone rang again and it was Jimmy asking if we were still on. He said that the Warner's guy was still coming with him but it would be an off-the-record meeting as he would have to consult with lawyers before he could commit to anything. Jimmy also said that he'd bring lunch and perhaps someone else, if that was okay. We leashed Santo and the three of us strolled the beach, holding hands and looking out of the waves and the big blue horizon. We were living our dream. ------------------------------------- Thanks for your nice comments and encouragement to keep the story going. Please vote on how you like it. Any names and persons used in this story are purely coincidental, fictional, nonexistent and utterly intentional. Send your comments to oldhippie1949@gmail.com. Thank you. All lyrics copywritten and used as a tribute: "Laughing", David Crosby; "The Times They Are A-Changin'", Bob Dylan. copyright2017 The Ol' Hippie