Every Song has to End Sometime

"Go away Mel. Sleeping." She breathed, almost inaudible.

"Jane, it's Dan - from, er - Mel's room. I need the key to get out." Silence. "Jane?" I shook her shoulder gently.

"Dan." She managed, then lapsed into a maddening silence before continuing. "You made Mel scream." Then the corner of her mouth twitched into the beginnings of a smile. It appeared that Jane was lapsing back into sleep, and I was starting to fear that I would be stuck there in that apartment all day.

Then Jane began rearranging herself. She moved fully onto her back, causing her boob to be freely displayed. I saw that she was wearing what looked like a man's shirt, unbuttoned most of the way down the front. She then bent her left knee, bringing her foot up and presenting me with an unobstructed view of her very beautiful sex.

It was an invitation, but was it one I should take? Would I be taking advantage? Was she dreaming? I stopped thinking and began taking action. I very carefully arranged myself between Jane's legs and brought my face to her cunt. I started with a very tentative traverse from the bottom of her slit up to her now prominent clit. I was rewarded with a hissing noise from Jane, and I looked up to see that she was cradling her exposed breast, teasing the nipple. I continued the butterfly touches of her opening, offering almost no pressure. Jane began to squirm, and I could see the lips swelling with need.

I inserted the tip of my index finger of my right hand inside Jane, and just held it there, watching her clench herself around it, trying to draw it towards her centre. I resisted - holding it still, forcing Jane to gyrate her hips and become more active in her need. Very soon, Jane took matters into her own hands as she rubbed softly at her clit, which brought forth a sharp intake of breath and a long exhalation accompanied by convulsions as she rode the waves of intense pleasure. As she bucked with the sensations, she seemed to move into another realm of pleasure, before rolling onto her front, presenting me with a gorgeous arse and cunt.

I wasted no time and slipped my full length into her, pushing into her centre, doing all I could to touch as much of her as possible as I slid in and out. She was quietly groaning, coming still, awash in pleasurable sensations. She reached back and grabbed hold of her arse cheeks, massaging them, teasing me, and I knew it was time to let go. The naughtiness of it and the vision of this beautiful woman's most intimate places pushed me over the edge, and I buried myself as far as I could go, enjoying a muscle-clenching, toe curling orgasm.

I lay down on Jane's back, regaining my breath. I didn't know what to say, because - what do you say in moments like this? She did me the favour of speaking first.

"They key's on a nail behind the curtain." She said softly, and giggled. When it was clear she had no more to say, I withdrew, stood up and went back to Mel's room to regain my composure. I did a last minute check around and set off for the front door. I felt bad for walking out and not saying goodbye to Jane, so quickly went back into her room. She hadn't moved. I whispered my farewells which were met with total silence, so to give her a proper parting gift, I bent down to plant a very wet kiss on both of her stunningly full, inviting arse cheeks. The minx spread her legs to offer me more of her, and I responded by swatting at her bottom in mock admonition.

Wrong move.

She began to audibly purr as that quick swat turned into a spanking. As the light blows rained down, I delighted in watching her bottom recoiling with the shockwaves, and I could only imagine how they felt inside her dripping sex. Still without looking at me, she lifted herself to her knees, pushing her bottom out at me wantonly. I responded by standing over her arse, looking down at her rear opening and her swollen cunt. I used my left hand and laid my moistened finger over her rose bud, whilst I probed the depths of her cunt with two fingers from my right hand. When I added the gentlest touch of my tongue to the anal ministrations, Jane collapsed in another orgasm, whispering "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck".

I should perhaps have left. I should maybe have walked out the door and turned my brain off until I was back at home where I could begin the process of stripping back the paper covering the cracks, righting wrongs or at the very least addressing parts of our relationship that had corroded through neglect. But what I felt more than anything was the need for skin on skin. I shed my clothes quickly and lay down in Jane's bed, scooting over to get close to her. I reached over her side and put my hands between her breasts, pulling her firmly into me, wanting to feel as much Jane against my skin. She sighed contentedly and wiggled her bottom on my semi-aroused cock. But this was not about sex, it was about the therapy of connection. The late night, the mental strain and the prospect of a marital summit in the very near future made my head and heart feel incredibly heavy. So I allowed myself to drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.

———————-

I woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. I opened my eyes to figure out where I was, and my watch told me I had been sleeping for three hours. I felt a weight on the bed, and I looked up to see Jane looking at me with the kindest eyes I'd ever seen.

"I read Mel's note to you." She said as she sipped her coffee.

I sat up and took the first searing sip of my own coffee. It was strong, and it was very badly needed. I looked at Jane who was still wearing the big shirt, and her breasts were still doing their best to break free. My eyes lingered on her cleavage, then down to her bare thighs and I worried that I had objectified this woman who was showing me such care - had I performed sexual acts on Jane, or had it been a mutual situation. I closed my eyes in disgust at myself, and the set of my jaw must have told a story of someone at the very edge of their mental capabilities.

"Dan, it's ok." Jane said, reaching out to take my hand. I was beyond ashamed as I felt hot, wet tears force their way through my tightly closed eyes and fall down on my naked chest. Jane held my hand and let me cry, let me have the release I did not know I was in such dire need of. When I was back under something approaching a measure of control, Jane spoke.

"Mel's one of my favourite women in the world, and I'm ashamed to admit it, but you're not the first of her blow ins that I've watched as she cast her womanly spell upon them. I don't like one night stands, but I do love the naughtiness of watching her, so I get my release when she brings boys home. I've never had a visit from them the next morning though!" She chuckled good naturedly.

As if reading my concern, she allayed my fears. "If you're worried that you took advantage of me, don't - I was well and truly up for everything you, er we - did."

That disarming smile. Those deep, brown, beautiful eyes.

"I looked at Mel's Facebook, Dan. I don't have my own account - so she allows me to be a little bit voyeuristic by using hers. She's a critical bitch is our Mel, so when she said you were good, I had an inkling you'd have to be, but - Dan, she's right, you are truly an incredibly musician and singer. People are going nuts for some of the videos - going properly viral. Especially the one where you held the note for ages and kept repeating the words until the whole room was singing it with you. What song was that, I don't know it?"

"It's called Stormcloud" I whispered.

"Who's it by?" enquired Jane.

"Me." I confirmed quietly.

"Well, you should check your feed because the views from that song are going up in the thousands a minute."

I closed my eyes and grimaced again. "Music is - everything to me, but it's the cause of everything bad in my marriage. It brings in little money, it overpromises and under-delivers, it paints a beautiful picture, but the reality is vastly different."

There was a long silence.

"Dan. Do you love your wife?" That one didn't need thinking about, that answer was never something I gave as an automatic response, it was something I thought about every day, so my response was delivered with unchallengeable certainty.

"Yes. Completely. I love her, and I am in love with her, and what scares me most is that she does not feel the same." I admitted.

"Did she love your music at one stage?" Jane asked gently.

"Yes. She was as excited as I was about what might happen. But two kids, too many missed mortgage payments, too many Facebook posts of friends on holidays that she so richly deserves - too many false starts - they've taken their toll."

She took my now empty coffee cup from me and handed me an Ipad. "Why don'y you look at how your music is being received out there in the fucked up world of social media, while I make a call or two."

Clearly as I performed, someone with a very good phone camera had captured everything. Then I remembered that there were a couple of professional photographers present to capture the mood and the smiling faces of the "main players" at the party. They'd actually done a pretty good job, with a couple of decent microphones and varying camera angles. Because I was just banging through the tunes for these people I didn't care for or about, I had really gotten lost in giving it everything - purely for my own benefit.

The videos of Sweet Child of Mine and Purple Rain both had views of around 20,000, which was about 18,000 more than I had ever had before. The posts that were going around were being shared by thousands of people.

In the comments on each post were hundreds of responses such as ""Who is this guy? Why don't we know?" "Never heard of him, but I'm going to make sure I find out" "he played at my friend's wedding, I'm surprised it's taken this long for him to be discovered."

Then I clicked on the third video - my own Stormcloud. It had 120,000 views and for the first time in my life, I was witnessing something going viral. In two minutes of watching it, it moved up to 125,000 views. The comments were in the many thousands, and my heart began racing. Just then, Jane came into the room, followed by a short, pretty woman with a pixie haircut and piercing green eyes.

"Dan, this is my friend Matty." Matty reached forward and offered her hand, which I shook briefly. I was very aware that I probably looked a terrible mess - tear stained, unshaven, half naked in bed at midday - not one's ideal first impression.

"Dan, Jane called me five minutes ago - I live downstairs. She send me a link to some Facebook videos."

I nodded and looked between the two women.

"Hope that was ok" Jane whispered. She hadn't changed into her day clothes as yet, but at least the buttons were done so far up that neither of her beautiful breasts could bust out and bid for freedom.

"I'm a music publicist. And a music manager. Oh, and a marketing specialist - to do with music, mainly. And I have never seen a reaction like that from an artist who is not tied to a major label who pretty much buys popularity. This is a rare thing and we - er you need to move fast."

I nodded, my eyes wary, but telling her it was ok to continue. She sat heavily on the bed, causing the covers to every nearly expose more of me than I was comfortable showing.

"Look. The music industry is fucked. What isn't fucked, though - is the opportunity to get very well paid for content that is yours. That little concert you performed last night has turned you into one of the biggest trending things on Facebook, and Youtube is hot on its heels. You will quite possibly get contact from some record companies looking to jump on the bandwagon, but I advise you to keep this tight, manage it well and make the most of every opportunity.

At last I spoke.

"I've had music managers, and I've been promised the earth, only to end up with contracts that feel like a weight around my neck."

"Exactly. They're cunts, which is why I left the industry. I'm a fucking good consultant, I got results for the big labels and now I'm looking for an artist that can partner me. I want to work together to create a profile, a brand and a business around the said artist. And I think I've found him."

I looked suspiciously at Matty, then down at my hands as I thought about what she had said. Finally I looked back at her before responding.

"You had me at cunts." I said, and the laughter broke the tension in the room.

Matty became immediately business-like.

"Right, you, Dan - get dressed and get ready, I'm driving you home to your house where I'm going to come and meet your wife, there's a lot to talk about. Then I'll leave you to discuss - er - whatever has gone on here in the last 12 hours. It's not my business, but I get the feeling there's going to be an awful lot of talking to be done between you and your significant other."

She busied herself and began firing off text messages, impressing me with her ability to do a number of things at once.

"On the drive up the coast, we can discuss details such as fees and splits. Also we have to work very fast to make sure that a certain Mr. William Axl Rose and that whoever is managing Prince's estate don't come after you for using their songs without permission. My brother's an entertainment lawyer, so I hope you don't mind, but he's already getting in touch with the companies that hold their copyrights, so we can say we put those songs out there "with their permission" she said using her fingers for inverted commas.

I left Matty and Jane and made my way to the bathroom. When I had finished washing my hands and face I looked into the mirror and could hardly recognise the man looking back at me. He looked the same, he had all the same features, but there was a difference to him, a kind of resoluteness that made him stand taller, more confident.

At the front door I hugged Jane hard, a full bodied embrace that we both lost ourselves in. There was nothing sexual about this connection, it was deeper than that, and I had a feeling I had found a very true friend in Jane.

As Matty and I headed north to my little corner of the world, I turned on my phone to see that there over 100 missed calls, hundreds of emails and more Facebook notifications than I could get through in a week.

The closer I got to home, the more nervous I became. I looked across at Matty. "No pressure, Matty, but we've got around 18 minutes to come up with a plan to convince my wife to not throw me out and to trust yet another music person selling yet another dream.

Matty smiled confidently.

"With the strategy I have in mind, we will need you two to be working together, pretty much full time to be able to keep up with demand, and if I do what I do best, starting today - there will be no financial worries for either of you."

As we pulled into the quiet cul-de-sac where we lived, I realised that our world had changed so much in less than 24 hours. I got out of her car, and together we walked up to the front door where I prepared myself to either face, make or at the very least - discuss the music.