Chapter Five
1977
I had been living back in Houston for a year that day Paul called me at work. I was both surprised and excited to hear from him. He had called me a couple of times at home, but never at the office. I didn’t even know he had that number. And now I was going to be seeing him for the first time since the going-away party. I was nervous to say the least.
I was just walking in the front door when I heard the telephone ringing. I ran to answer it.
“Hello?” I said, out of breath.
“Natalie?” I heard a male voice ask. I knew who it was right away.
“Hi Paul.”
“Hey,” he said. “Well, I’m in Houston. But I’ve only got a couple of hours to kill. So come over.”
I laughed. If it had been anyone else, I would have told him to fuck off. But Paul was a special guy.
“Sure, where are you staying?”
He told me the name of the hotel and his room number. Luckily, it wasn’t too far from my apartment. He also told me he would leave my name at the front desk in case there was any trouble.
“Okay,” I said. “See you in about twenty minutes.”
I hung up the phone, grabbed my purse, and stopped to check myself in the mirror. Not bad, I thought. Then I ran a brush through my hair and left.
When I got to the hotel, I stopped at the front desk to give them my name. The clerk looked at me with a smug expression and told me to take the elevator to the top floor.
Stepping up to Paul’s closed door, I suddenly got very nervous.
Oh come on, Natalie, I told myself. Sure, he’s a rock star now, but he’s your friend.
I patted my skirt to make sure it wasn’t wrinkled, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. Paul answered.
“Hi,” I barely whispered.
“You look great,” he said as he stepped back to let me inside.
“Thank you. So do you.”
Of course he looks great, Natalie, I thought. He’s only wearing a goddamn robe!
“Have a seat,” said Paul gesturing toward a table covered with snacks, fruits and pastries. “Are you hungry?”
“A little,” I answered and sat down.
Just as Paul was about to open a bottle of champagne, the phone rang.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just a minute.”
While Paul took the call, I dug into the fruit bowl. I was biting into a piece of watermelon when I caught myself humming the Kiss tune “Room Service.” I giggled to myself.
“So how is everything?” Paul asked when he sat back down.
“Fruit’s good,” I said.
Paul laughed, “No, I meant how are things with you?”
“Oh!” I exclaimed, embarrassed. “Great.”
I hesitated and then added, “I just got a promotion at my job.”
“Congratulations,” said Paul as he poured two glasses of champagne and handed me one.
“Thanks.”
Paul held up his glass for a toast. “To good friends and good music,” he said.
“I’ll drink to that.”
We clinked our glasses together and took a sip.
“Oh, before I forget,” said Paul, “I want to give you your passes.”
“Passes?”
“Here.” He handed me two laminated backstage passes.
“Paul, you didn’t have to. I know you’ll be busy after the show. You don’t need me hanging around,” I said.
“I want you there,” he said. “And bring your friend…what’s her name?”
“Carol,” I told him.
“Right.”
“Too bad Simone’s not here,” I said.
“Hey yea, how is Simone?” asked Paul.
“She’s fine. I asked her to come down, but she said she couldn’t make it this time around. She had some deadline to meet.”
Simone was now working as a reporter for a rock and roll magazine in Manhattan. She had gotten a chance to mingle and get interviews with many of the current rock stars. With Kiss being one of the most popular bands, many of her articles were about them, and she got to see Paul a lot more than I did. Although she had met Kiss before they had ever become famous, she was very professional and never asked them to take off their make-up.
Paul and I ate, drank, and chatted for a while. I was having a really nice time, trying to avoid the voice in my head reminding me how good-looking he was. Although I hadn’t seen Paul in a while, sometimes I would lie in bed and think of him. I would start having these feelings for him, feelings that any woman in her right mind would be having if she were with him. But I had to drill it into my head that we were just friends. And that I didn’t mind being just his friend.
I would think of when we had been a little more than that, but I decided it would be best not to take it any further. Paul and his band were about to reach stardom, and I didn’t want to stand in the way of that. And being a groupie was out of the question for me. I would much rather be his friend, I thought. To know I can trust him and he can trust me…forever.
Still, I couldn’t deny that sometimes I felt this spark between us. When we were together, whether alone or around others, we always seemed to flirt constantly. I actually had not noticed it until Carol pointed it out to me one time we were together. When I realized she was right, I didn’t really care. I enjoyed flirting with Paul. It was probably what made our relationship so exciting.
I looked at Paul and watched him eating a strawberry.
God, he’s sexy, I said to myself. I started realizing how much I wanted him. I bet he’s really good in bed. If only I hadn’t stopped him that one night. If only I hadn’t been thinking too much. If only I had just let myself go. If only…
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the way Paul was looking at me at that moment, I don’t know. But something made me slip off my shoe and run my foot up the inside of his leg.
Paul grinned at me. He didn’t stop me, and something in his eyes told me he wanted me too. I continued to move my foot until it was in his chair, pressing against his manliness. He closed his eyes and moaned softly. Then he stood up, grabbed my hand, and guided me to the bed.
Although everything seemed to happen pretty quickly after that, I still remember every detail as if it were all in slow motion.
Paul kissed me very softly at first, as if I were some kind of china doll and I would break into a million pieces if he weren’t careful. I remember feeling very light, like a feather falling onto a pillow of clouds. I wasn’t afraid at all. All of my anxieties were lifted, and as Paul began to unbutton my blouse, I realized I was ready to give myself to him.
His lips moved down my neck as I ran my fingers through his long dark hair. He removed my blouse, followed by my bra. When his hands touched my breasts, I felt a tingle all over. A sensation that I had felt similarly with passed lovers, but this was a bit different. This was like living out my fantasy; a fantasy that I hadn’t really known existed in my head. I closed my eyes and let Paul unzip my skirt and slip it down my legs. Then he removed my panties and let them fall onto the floor. When I opened my eyes, he was taking off his robe.
Oh my God, I thought. What a gorgeous human being!
Paul then lowered himself on top of me and began kissing me very passionately. He took my breath away. I could feel his hardness between my legs, and his chest hair brushed against my nipples. I moaned.
“I want you, Natalie,” Paul whispered.
“I want you too.”
I lifted my legs and Paul entered me slowly. He rocked me gently at first and then began to thrust harder and harder until my head reeled. I bit my bottom lip to keep from crying out. Not from pain, but from ecstasy. No man had ever made me feel this good before. I wasn’t quite sure how to react.
“I want to make you scream,” Paul moaned.
So I did. I clung to him tightly. I just couldn’t seem to let him go. I wanted to devour him. When it was over, we lied on the bed sweaty and trying to catch our breath.
I looked at Paul for a second and then at the ceiling. Was I supposed to say something? What would I say? “That was great, see ya.”?
I sat up and began to dress. I decided not to make a big deal out of it. I was sure Paul had slept with a lot of women by now, and I was just a number. Shit, I shouldn’t have done this, I thought.
Then I felt Paul’s hand touch my back. I turned and looked at him.
“I’m glad you came by,” he smiled.
What did he mean by that? “Glad you came by so I could get laid.”? Or was he sincerely happy that I was there? I was so confused. But I wasn’t about to ask him for the answers.
“Me too,” I said.
I finished getting dressed and grabbed my purse. Paul put his robe back on and opened the door for me.
“I guess I’ll see you after the show,” I told him.
“You bet,” said Paul. Then he kissed me. It wasn’t one of those “I feel like I’m obligated to kiss you” kisses either. It was more like an “I still want you” kiss. I liked it.
“Bye,” I said.
“Bye sweetheart.” I loved it when he called me that.
I smiled to myself as he closed the door, and I pressed the button for the first floor. Maybe it was just sex and it didn’t have to mean much. No commitments or anything. I could live with that. Just as long as I get to feel like that again! I thought.
I laughed as I stepped off the elevator and into the lobby. I looked at the enormous grandfather clock next to the glass doors. Only two more hours until the concert started. I still needed to get home and shower before meeting Carol.
As I hurried out to my car, I saw a group of people standing next to a limousine all wearing Kiss make-up. It looked like a large family or group of friends. I even noticed a small child dressed like Gene. One of the girls came running up to me and asked if I knew whether or not Kiss was staying at that hotel.
“I don’t know,” I lied.
She looked disappointed and walked away.
“I’ve just got to meet Paul,” I heard her say. “He is so sexy.”
“You have no idea, honey,” I muttered. “No idea.”
Carol and I had really good seats for the concert – third row center. On the way to the concert and right up to when the lights went out, I was waiting for Carol to ask me about Paul. But she never did. I guess she figured if there was anything I was willing to share with her, I would have. Which was true. I really was not in the mood to tell her the story. For one thing, I wasn’t quite sure how it ended, or if it had ended at all. Were Paul and I still friends? Or was he now going to treat me like one of his groupies? I decided not to worry about it and enjoy the show. When it was over, Carol and I made our way to a huge line that had already formed next to the backstage entrance. A security guard and one of the road managers were weeding out the people without passes, and were telling them to step aside to let the people with passes get through.
“I feel so special,” giggled Carol as we made our inside.
Quite a few other girls were already there. Some were standing against the wall in the hallway and some were pacing it trying to find a certain room. I even heard one girl scream out Gene’s name. It was hilarious.
Just then a door at the end of the hall opened and Paul emerged. I think I went deaf for a few seconds from the enormous amount of screaming around me. I almost got knocked down by a group of girls that came running from behind me. Carol and I stood back and let the girls get autographs and pictures taken. A few moments later, Peter came out of his dressing room and the same thing happened.
When the last two members had finally shown themselves, and it looked like Paul had a moment to break from giving autographs, Carol and I made our way toward him. He looked up and saw me and waved. He squeezed through the crowd a bit to get to us.
“Hey,” he said and gave me a quick hug.
“Hey yourself,” I smiled. “Great show.”
“Thanks.”
Paul, Carol and I stood around and gabbed for while. Every few minutes though, our conversation would be interrupted by a photographer or an adoring fan. It was all fine with me however, because I understood Paul’s success and welcomed it with open arms. I was very proud of him. But each time I would witness Paul’s happiness, it would make me feel a little more inadequate. How was I going to make it? The company I worked for was going under, and I would be out of a job very soon. Carol was going to be fine; she had her wealthy family to help her out. I had no one. Well, I had my mother, but she could barely make her own ends meet. And sure, I could find another job, but how long would that take? A week, a couple months, a year?
I was afraid to tell Paul about any of this. That was why I lied to him and told him everything was great and I just got a promotion. I didn’t want Paul to know I was about to fall flat on my face.
When a large group of girls came up to Paul and asked him for autographs and pictures, Carol and I decided to leave him for a few minutes and go talk to Peter, whom the girls had just trotted over from.
“Hi Ladies,” said Peter.
“Hey, Mr. Catman,” Carol said, putting her arm around him.
I saw the sparkle in her eyes when she looked at him. I thought of what she had told me that day on the plane. She had never mentioned it again, and I never brought it up. I knew that Peter had always been her favorite of the group. Although they never really “hooked up,” they had always done a lot of flirting. After the party Simone and I gave, when Carol had first met the Kiss guys, she had told me “thanks for the Peter.” I had to laugh. Before that, I never knew she had a thing for drummers.
While Carol and Peter continued to flirt, I walked over to a table covered with various sodas and beer. I grabbed a Heineken from the cooler and turned around to face a man wearing a suit and tie. I had noticed the man earlier in the evening staring at me next to the merchandise stand. He had light brown hair and a long handlebar mustache. He gave me the heebie jeebies.
“Good evening,” he said in a low voice, almost in a whisper.
“Hi,” I said, trying to step around him and give him the message to leave me alone.
“You’re Natalie, correct?”
“Uh, how did you know that?” I stopped.
“I’m Charles Wyman,” he said, extending his hand. “I work with Simone Black.”
“Oh!” I exclaimed, “How do you do?”
“I’m just fine,” said Charles, “but Simone tells me you’re in a bit of a bind.”
“She did?”
“Yes, she told me about your company going under. Natalie, I may be able to help you, and at the same time, you can help me,” suggested Charles.
“How so?” I asked, skeptically.
Charles took my arm and said, “Let’s take a walk.”
We walked down the hall toward the door.
“I’m willing to offer you a job of sorts,” he said. I stopped walking.
“A job? Oh, I haven’t had any plans of moving back to New York,” I told him.
“Oh no, the job would be here,” said Charles.
“The magazine is opening a branch in Houston?” I asked. I thought I sounded like an idiot, but I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Not exactly,” replied Charles. “You see, I am a fan of Kiss, but more importantly I am here on business. I’ve been trying to get just the right photos of the band to print in next month’s issue. I have quite a collection so far, but nothing really that sparks my interest. I want something rare, something the fans have never seen before. And that’s where you come in.”
“Me?”
“I understand you and Paul Stanley are pretty close.”
I turned and glanced in Paul’s direction. He was still in the middle of a giggling group of girls signing autographs.
“Um, well, we’re friends,” I nodded. “Does he trust you?” asked Charles.
“What do you mean?”
Charles hesitated for a moment and then said, “Natalie, I won’t beat around the bush. I’m willing to pay you a large sum of money if you can get me one shot of Paul Stanley without make-up.”
“Kiss doesn’t pose without make-up,” I insisted. This was something I had heard Simone say several times.
“I’m not talking about a pose,” said Charles.
I paused. “You can’t be serious.”
“Serious as a heart attack.” Charles reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a large wad of money held together by a big silver clip.
“Paul is my friend,” I exclaimed.
“There is a cloth bag underneath that table,” Charles continued, ignoring what I had just said. “Inside it is a camera. If you agree to this, you can pick it up when no one is looking. I’m sure you’ll be visiting with Paul after the show?”
“Uh, yes,” I whispered.
“Fine. I will trust you to get a good photograph.”
“Mr. Wyman, you can not ask me to do this,” I said.
“I’m not asking you to, Natalie. I am merely suggesting a way out of your situation. I have $2,000 cash here. If you get this photo for me, I will give you another $2,000 after it’s developed.” Charles grinned. I didn’t like his grin. He reminded me of Colonel Mustard from the Clue board game. But I was considering his offer.
“How am I supposed to get this picture?” I asked.
“Grab the camera while he’s in the shower or something. You’re a smart woman, you can figure it out.”
Charles continued to flip his fingers through the stack of green in his hand. That was a lot of money. I could survive for a while on it, until I found another job.
How hard could it be? I was going to be with Paul anyway, and he probably would never suspect a thing. Just a quick flash and that would be it.
“What do I do with the camera when I’m finished?” I asked.
“Just put it back under that table,” Charles pointed at the beverage table. It was covered with a white cloth, so no one could see what was underneath unless they lifted it.
“And the money?”
“I will be standing next to the table. When you start to walk off with Paul, make eye contact with me, and I will place the money in the bag. Like I said, if it turns out okay, I will send you the rest of the money.”
“Jesus,” I muttered.
“It doesn’t have to be complicated, Natalie,” said Charles. “Complication is not having money and not knowing if you’re going to survive. I know, I’ve been there.”
I paused for a moment, sighed, and then said, “Okay, I’ll do it.”
Charles grinned again, “Good. Just remember to make eye-contact with me.”
“Alright,” I said.
As I made my way back toward Paul, I took a deep breath.
Pull yourself together, Natalie, I told myself. Don’t think about your personal feelings; think about survival. This is business. Everything is business nowadays. No need to get your heart tangled up in it.
When Paul saw me he said, “Well ladies, I have to get going.”
How nice of him to tear himself away from the Barbies, I thought. I giggled to myself.
Paul turned and started walking toward his dressing room. He tilted his head in a motion for me to follow him. As I did, I felt the girls’ eyes on me and heard some whispers. I loved it.
When I caught up with him Paul asked where Carol was.
“Last I saw her she was with Peter,” I said as I looked around for her. I didn’t see her anywhere.
“Oh okay,” Paul smirked.
When we reached the door to his dressing room, I turned and made eye contact with Charles who nodded. Then Paul opened the door and I stepped inside. I was starting to feel really sick and wished I hadn’t drunk that beer. I still had the bottle in my hand so I set it on the make-up table as Paul sat down and began to wash off his mask. I watched him in the mirror, all the while nervously wringing my hands.
I started to have second thoughts. Especially when Paul told me how much he appreciated my being there.
“No matter how many fans we have, the most important are our true friends,” he said.
I gave a half-ass smile. What was I doing? I couldn’t do this to him.
I care about him, I thought.
Then another voice in my head kept reminding me of the horrendous bills I still had, and how I was never going to pay them, and I would be out in the street in a couple weeks.
When Paul finished removing his make-up, he went to the bathroom to shower. This was my chance. I slowly opened the door, peaking out first to see if anyone was around. There were a couple of girls and some roadies still hanging out by the exit, but that was it. I stepped out and walked over to the beverage table. Then I squatted and lifted the table cloth. There was the bag just like Charles had promised. I grabbed it as quickly as possible and made my way back to Paul’s dressing room. Just as I was about to open the door, I heard a voice say, “hey!”
I turned around to see one of the roadies, whom I had known for a while.
“Hi Nick,” I said, grabbing a tight hold on the bag.
“How the hell are ya?” he asked.
“I’m…okay.” Actually I was shaking like a leaf.
“That’s good,” said Nick. “Listen, I got some stuff to do, but maybe I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Sure,” I said. Thank God.
As soon as he turned the corner, I opened the door and went inside. I could hear the shower running. I figured it was now or never.
I opened the bag and pulled out the camera. Also inside was the cash, but I left it in the bag and placed that on the make-up table. I took a deep breath and walked slowly toward the bathroom. The door was ajar just about an inch, so I began to ease it open further. I tip-toed passed the sink, and stopped just steps away from the shower. I could see Paul’s shadow as he lathered his body down with soap. I began to have mixed emotions. My head was spinning, my palms were sweating, my heart was beating a mile a minute. And most of all, I had the urge to just put back the camera and join him in the shower.
I shook my head. You have to get rid of these thoughts, I told myself. Just take the goddamn picture and get the hell of there!
I held up the camera ready to take a shot when I heard a voice in the back of my mind. It was Paul’s voice.
“No matter what happens, Natalie, I will always cherish your friendship.”
I had forgotten about that night. I suppose I had blocked it out of my memory.
“You mean the world to me,” he had said.
Those words had never meant as much as they did right this second. Tears began to well up in my eyes, and I felt one trickle down my cheek.
Oh my God! I thought. How could I be so selfish? So incredibly stupid?
I suddenly felt sick, as though I had the flu. I backed up against the wall and began to cry uncontrollably.
“Oh Paul, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!” I said aloud.
“Natalie?” I heard Paul say. He stepped out of the shower with a dumbfounded look on his face. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist.
“What are you doing?” He asked as he made his way toward me.
I was crouched on the floor against the wall with the camera in my hands. But I couldn’t look up at him. And even if I had, I wouldn’t have been able to see him through my tears.
“Natalie, wha— …” Then he noticed the camera.
“Who’s is this?” he asked as he took it from me.
I couldn’t answer him. All I could say was “I’m so sorry.”
“Natalie, please stop crying and tell me what’s going on,” said Paul.
“I needed the money,” I whispered.
“Money?” Paul lifted my chin. “Look at me,” he said.
I was shaking so badly. How was I going to explain?
Paul wiped some of the tears from my face and tried to calm me down.
He’s the most wonderful person in the world, I thought. How could I do this to him?
“Someone put you up to this,” said Paul. “You were trying to take a picture of me without make-up.”
“Yes,” I whimpered.
“Who?” Paul asked in an angry tone.
I sighed. “Charles Wyman from Rock Glitter magazine.”
“Simone…” started Paul almost in a question.
“No,” I shook my head. “I doubt Simone had anything to do with this. She wouldn’t do that to you.”
Paul looked at me. “But you would?”
I opened my mouth but no words would come out. No words could justify what I had attempted to do. I hated myself so much. I wanted to die.
I began to cry again.
“I’m so sorry Paul!” I screamed. “If you hate me now, I understand. I’m a terrible person.”
Paul just stared at me.
“I should go now,” I wiped my remaining tears and stood up. “I’m sorry.”
As I walked back to the dressing room, Paul grabbed my arm.
“I don’t hate you,” he said. “I just want to know why.”
I bit my bottom lip.
“I lied to you,” I said. “I didn’t just get a promotion at my job. The business is closing soon and I’ll have no job.”
Paul didn’t say anything so I continued.
“Somehow Mr. Wyman found out about my situation and took advantage of it. He offered me a lot of money if I were to get one photo of you without make-up.”
“I see,” said Paul. “And I guess I meant so little to you that you would jeopardize my career and our friendship.”
“No! I was only…”
“You were only thinking about the money,” Paul cut me off.
“Yes,” I said.
“I just can’t believe…” Paul started. “I would never do that to you.”
“Well I didn’t do it, did I?” I yelled. “I said I’m sorry. I love you, Paul.”
Paul stared at me.
“Natalie.”
“You know what I mean,” I said. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. Although I think I was mostly saying it to keep myself from getting the wrong idea. Maybe I did love him. So what.
Paul put the camera down, stepped closer to me and put his hands on my shoulders.
“Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked.
“What for?”
“What do you mean, what for? You know I’d always help you out.”
“You would?” I asked.
“Of course.” I looked down at my feet, but he lifted my chin again to look at him.
“I thought I told you that before,” he smiled.
“Well, you know, you’re not always that easy to find,” I smirked. “I wasn’t even sure if you would want to see me this time.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
I shrugged.
Paul sighed, picked up the camera again, and handed it to me.
“Go tell Mr. Wyman you changed your mind,” he said.
“Okay.” I walked toward the door, but stopped before opening it. “I really am sorry.”
“I know,” said Paul.
“If I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I will.”
The corners of Paul’s mouth slowly gave way to a smile. It gave me goose bumps.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” he said. “Now go.”
I grabbed the bag from the make-up table and told Paul I’d be right back. When I closed the door behind me, I looked around for Charles Wyman, but did not see him. I thought for a few seconds about just leaving the bag under the table like I was supposed to. I could just take the money and let the bastard think I took the picture. He deserved it. But then I thought about what Paul said, and I realized what I had to do. As I turned the corner, I spotted Mr. Wyman standing next to the double exit doors talking to a tall blond woman in a navy blue dress. As I got closer to them, I could tell he was trying to come on to her. I cleared my throat.
“Excuse me, Mr. Wyman?”
Charles spun around quickly, and when he noticed me, he looked like he had been slapped in the face.
“I’m sorry, but the job could not be fulfilled,” I said, handing him the camera.
Mr. Wyman began to stutter.
“Uh…wha- what do you mean?” he asked.
“I changed my mind.” This time I handed him the bag with the cash in it.
“I’m sorry young lady,” said Charles, “but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Inside I was fuming, but I kept my cool. The little snake!
“Like I said before. Kiss doesn’t pose without make-up. You need to find someone else for your little pathetic scheme.”
I saw the blond lady’s mouth drop, but I didn’t stay to wait for Mr. Wyman’s reaction. I turned and walked briskly back to Paul’s dressing room. He was sitting on the couch watching a small television when I re-entered.
“Did you handle the situation?” he asked.
“Sure did,” I said.
“Did you tell him he could shove it up his ass?”
I laughed. “No, but I did give him quite a shock. And he probably won’t be getting laid tonight.”
Paul grinned. “Good.”
I sat down next to him on the couch. “I think maybe I should call Simone. I really don’t think she had anything to do with this. At least, not intentionally. She’ll probably be pissed when she hears this one.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Paul.
I picked up the phone from the table next to the couch and placed a collect call to Simone. It was late, but I knew she would be awake.
When the operator asked if Simone would accept the charges, she urgently said yes.
“Natalie? What the hell is wrong?”
“Calm down, Simone!” She was always afraid something horrible had happened whenever I called her collect.
“I’m here with Paul,” I said.
“Ohhhh,” giggled Simone. “Tell him I said hi.”
“Listen, I need you to straighten something out for us.” I told her the whole story about Charles Wyman and how I had almost taken the picture of Paul.
“Oh my God, Natalie! That fucker! You have to believe me; I had nothing to do with this.”
“I believe you,” I said.
“I swear,” she continued. “He must have overheard me talking to you on the phone or something. I never told a soul.”
“I figured.”
“But you know, I have to say that I can’t believe you would actually consider doing that to Paul,” said Simone.
“I know, I know! I feel so horrible.”
“He forgave you?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus Christ, Natalie,” exclaimed Simone. “I hope you realize how lucky you are to have a friend like him.
I looked at Paul. “I know,” I said almost in a whisper.
“You better make it up to him…if you know what I mean.”
I paused for a moment and then said, “I plan on it.”
Paul grinned at me, as though he knew what I was talking about.
“Well, as for Chuck the Fuck, I will take care of him. Just leave all that to me,” Simone giggled.
“Okay,” I said.
“Now,” said Simone, “I need to get to sleep. I have an interview with Thin Lizzy in the morning.”
“Goodnight,” I said.
“G’night.”
I hung up the phone and told Paul what Simone said. He seemed a bit more at ease and so did I.
“Now we need to talk about you,” said Paul.
“Me? What about me?” I asked.
“Your situation.”
“Oh…” I hesitated. “Yeah.”
“Natalie,” started Paul, “please don’t ever feel ashamed to come to me for help. I am always here for you.”
I looked at the floor and began twirling my hair around my fingers – a nervous habit I have, especially around men.
“I am going to lend you some money,” Paul continued. “As much as you need, for as long as you need.”
My heart melted. You could have used to it butter pancakes with.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
I looked at Paul who smiled and said, “You’re welcome.”
Then he leaned over and kissed me. Just like that, he kissed me. I wasn’t expecting it at all. And it was nice.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you how beautiful you look tonight,” said Paul as he nuzzled my hair and began to caress my neck.
“Thank you.” I figured I probably looked horrible after crying my eyes out, but I didn’t say that. I could tell what Paul was getting at. I couldn’t deny that it was what I wanted too, so I just went with it.
He kissed me again, harder and deeper. I began to feel a good wet sensation between my legs. I didn’t want it to stop, so I moved and sat in Paul’s lap, straddling him. He seemed to like that.
“Mmmm, bad girl,” he grinned.
His hands moved up my thighs and underneath my dress until they were tugging on my panties. He moaned as my hands moved up his hairy chest and my pelvis began to grind against his.
“Oh Natalie,” he breathed. “I want you right here, right now, on this couch.”
Paul continued to kiss my neck as his hands began to lower the straps of my dress.
“Do you want me?” he moaned.
“Yes,” I said.
I stood up and pulled off my panties as Paul took off his pants. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. I licked my lips. Then he finished removing my dress and let it fall to the floor.
Paul sat back down and I straddled him again, this time his penis inserting me. He felt so good. I wanted to come with every move, every grind, every thrust.
He began to moan louder and louder, as did I. As I watched him, I realized how much I enjoyed seeing him pleased. It made me want him more.
As I moved faster, Paul yelled out, “oh yes, fuck me baby.”
It was something I only heard people say in porn flicks, but I really liked it. I was enjoying being a “bad girl”.
I grabbed hold of the back of the couch while Paul had his hands on my waist.
Oh my God!
We came together. It was incredible.
Afterwards, I didn’t feel as empty as I had that afternoon. I knew it was something that was meant to happen.