Los Cinco Hermanos Ch. 01

"I'll bet she can," I heard Paul whisper to Dave, behind me. I wasn't supposed to, but I did.

"Band's about to start up again," Jerry pointed out. "Have you eaten, yet?"

"Earlier tonight," I told him. "I'm fine. I think I owe Paul some time on the dance floor, though."

"You don't owe me anything, Ms. Elizabeth," Paul told me, picking up Dave's mode of address. "And truth be told, I don't dance that well. Definitely not ballroom. Best I can do is stand out there with a partner and shake various parts of my body. But I'd love to talk to you between dances, if you'd like."

"I can sit a few out," I told him. "Mostly I intended to just sit and watch the eye candy tonight, anyway."

"That would be a horrible waste," Jerry smiled, and I wondered, did all these guys go to the same smiling school or something? Right to my nethers, I swear. Just then the band started up again and it was the drummer with a simple Bo Diddley Beat.

"Are they going to do the Hand Jive song?" I asked.

"I don't know," Jerry told me. "Come on... let's go check it out. Okay, Paul? Dave?"

"If it's okay with the lady..." Dave told him while Paul just shrugged.

I let myself be led through the gently gyrating people flocking to the dance floor, some of whom near the stage were already hand jiving. This was a real kick - I hadn't hand jived since Jukebox Saturday Night back in college. Then the band kicked in with the vocals and it was a wonderfully obscene version of the Strangeloves' "I Want Candy". People on the dance floor were improvising lyrics and it was getting downright bawdy.

There was the standard verse, "I know a girl all dressed in black / She makes her living on her back." But I about peed my pants when someone else started with the "girl in black" line and there were some boos and whistles - until she finished with "She's so old she's buyin' it back!" Damn, that was funny!

And Jerry knew how to do the hand jive, too. It definitely took me back a few years, and it was fun. There was something about the two of us being silly out there that clicked. I figured it was because he was a high school friend of Dave and Paul. They must have been pretty close.

When the band wrapped up "I Want Candy", they segued into Led Zeppelin's "Rock and Roll". Jerry reached for my hand.

"I understand you like jitterbug?" he asked. "How about some East Coast Swing?"

I wasn't about to say no. He was good and we ended up adapting swing moves to Led Zeppelin's hard rock and we had a gas doing it.

"Man, this group is all over the map!" I tried to tell him over the music. "Jazz, blues, swing, rock... a little bit of everything."

"That's why they named the band Fuzion," he told me, leaning into my ear. "It's a fusion of a little bit of everything. They were a little shy about taking it on the road, but I told them I thought it'd be great! I'm glad they listened!"

"You told them???" I asked back.

"Yeah," he nearly shouted. "They're friends of mine."

Why was I not surprised?

We danced until the end of the song and then I turned to head back to the table. Jerry stopped me as the band slid into the opening notes of "Albert's Shuffle" from the Mike Bloomfield album "Supersession"... one of my all-time favorite 12-bar blues songs. This band was definitely messing with my mind, and I loved it.

Jerry drew me into his arms for a nice, long slow dance, up close and personal, and I'll admit, I was melting. First Dave and now Jerry really had a way of making me feel sexy and wanted. And then I realized I was feeling something else.

Apparently Jerry had a rather prodigious "package", because I was feeling it through his slacks and it was very obvious that I had his interest. That would be me... the mousy, stay-at-home one. He was getting turned on by dancing with me. And weirdly enough, I didn't feel insulted. I felt complimented. It had been way too long not being the object of anyone's interest and my body was being very insistent on letting my mind know it.

So once again, I did the atypical - I let go some of my overly tight self-control and ground back into him, teasing and flirting with my body. Those tits and hips I'd been critical of before were about to become my allies. The soft moan that escaped his lips made me grin like an idiot, then hide it as fast as I could. It felt fantastic to think that I could still get to a guy like that. Running my hands down to his ass was almost my undoing, though.

He may have been tall and thin, but under those slacks, he was all lithe and chiseled muscle with one damned nice bubble butt - smooth, round, tight. My nethers were getting ready to declare war if I didn't pay attention to them soon. As it was, I got a little weak-kneed.

I could feel him smiling. And I didn't mind one bit. I think that wild hair had sprouted roots.

Thank God the song ended and they slipped into some kind of Motown thing that didn't do anything for me. Jerry escorted me back to the bar where Dave and Paul were waiting.

"So, did you get her life story?" Dave asked with a smile as we approached, and held out a fresh glass of wine. "I asked the barman what you were drinking," he explained. I took it, gratefully.

"Not really, mate," Jerry told him. "Too busy dancing and having fun. I did tell her I knew Fuzion, though."

"Um..." Dave drawled. "How much did you tell her about how you know the band, Jerry?"

"Oh, not like that," Jerry quickly explained, leaving me confused. "Just that I knew them and encouraged them to go with the eclectic mix of music for their live gigs."

"Oh," Dave answered, apparently relieved. Of course, I couldn't let it go.

"So how do you know the band, Jerry?" I asked. "In detail, please."

"Professionally, initially," he answered with no hesitation or embarrassment I could see. "They did a couple of jobs for me, soundtracks and stuff, and it turned into a friendship."

"Soundtracks?" I asked, realizing he had to be in the entertainment industry. This was L.A., after all.

"Yes, I make movies," he explained. "I'm sort of a jack-of-all-trades... producer, director, writer, actor... depends on the project."

"Aren't you a bit young to be a producer?" I asked. "I'm not familiar with Hollywood, but I thought there was a certain amount of dues paying you had to do first."

"I usually avoid this conversation," Jerry told me. "Hang on a second..."

I caught the slightly concerned looks on Dave's and Paul's faces while Jerry ordered a drink, but they went completely neutral as Jerry turned back to me.

"I'm an independent," he told me. "I can pretty much do whatever I want. I'm what some would call independently wealthy. Family money. Inherited." He took a bit of a breath and let it out in a sigh.

"I don't like how it changes people when they find out I have money," he went on. "But it looks like 'life story' time. The basics go like this: my father was rich. When I was seventeen, a drunk driver killed both my parents. Since I was underage, it all went into a trust for my sister and me and I inherited Dad's business manager. He and I made a deal. I would leave the estate virtually intact and he would manage it, just like he'd been doing for Dad. I would get to use the house, the cars, the furnishings and so forth, and get an annual allowance. When I hit twenty-one and came into the trust, I'd leave it with him to keep running it as was, but my allowance would go up."

"That's where I'm at now. I was a year ahead of Dave and Paul, so when Dave was looking at going into the Navy and Paul was starting his undergraduate work at UCLA, I was knocking around USC and especially their Communications department. I'd always been into film and music and stuff, so I started taking classes. I dropped out Junior year when I realized I could just go make movies myself. I should probably go back and finish some year, but for now, I'm just having too much fun doing what I want to do, when I want to do it."

"I met Fuzion when I needed help with a soundtrack. Turns out we built a good working relationship. In fact, Ginger - the bassist - does other work for me as her day job."

"I'd really rather not come across as the spoiled rich brat," he told me. "And if you finding out about my money changes things, I'm going to be hugely disappointed."

"Oh, money isn't that important to me," I assured him. "My job keeps me comfortable and I've never been the kind of woman to be impressed by diamond stickpins. You said you had a sister, though... where is she in all this?"

"Oh, yeah... Cassie. MIT. She's brilliant. She got a scholarship. She hated living in the family home after Mom and Dad died, so when she got the chance to bolt for the other coast, she took it. We talk from time to time. We sold the original family home last year. I didn't like the memories, either."

"Thanks for sharing," I told him as I took a deep draught of my wine. "It explains a lot. I appreciate it."

"What about you, Paul? What happened with you and UCLA?"

"Long story short," he smiled. "I graduated. The slightly longer version is, I'm currently an Associate Professor in the Bio-Engineering program, working on my PhD at the UCLA Santa Monica Medical Center and Orthopedic Hospital. I live in Santa Monica. When Jerry put out the call that Los Cinco Hermanos would be in the same place at the same time and proposed the get-together, I took some time off and came here to meet up."

"Los Cinco Hermanos," I repeated. "The Five Brothers. Who are the other two?"

"Ron and Jackson," Dave interjected. "If you take Jerry up on his invite, you could meet them tonight."

"Are they hunks like you three?" I thought it was a reasonable question, even if the wine was getting to me.

"Hunks?" Dave looked at me blankly, then turned to his buddies. "We're hunks?"

Paul shrugged, but Jerry smiled. "Yeah, guys, we could be... it depends, of course, on what turns the lady on. Maybe guys who like to dance and aren't all macho about it does it for her." He turned back to face me.

"I certainly wouldn't mind making it into the Hunk category for a woman like you," he told me and I expected my bullshit alarm to go off... but it didn't.

"A woman like me?" I asked. I wanted to know what stakes he was playing for.

"Yes," he kept smiling. "Friendly, attractive, fun, loves dancing... and tits..." He sighed the last bit, then pretended to catch himself. "Oops, sorry... crude alert," he told me. I wasn't going to let him off the hook.

"Tits?" I prompted.

"Um... Elizabeth?" Dave interrupted. "I, uh, don't know if you've noticed yourself in a mirror, but... damn, girl! I think our testosterone poisoning just infected the conversation, but yes, to keep up the crude alert, you are stacked. Um... noticeably so."

"Delightfully so," Paul added softly.

"Okay..." I drawled, secretly fighting the blush and loving the compliment. "I'm glad you noticed. A girl likes to be complimented sometimes, even if it's crude."

"I hope you're not offended," Jerry put in. "The invite out to my place still stands, and we could even pamper you to make up for the crudeness."

I smiled. I couldn't help it.

"How do I get there?" The grins on the three guys tried to split their faces.

"Does your rental have a GPS?" Jerry asked.

"No," I told him. "I don't like paying their rates. I have my own Garmin, though."

"Close enough," he kept smiling as he reached in his inside coat pocket and pulled out a business card.

"That's my home address," he explained. "Doubles for my business address, except mail, which goes to a PO Box. Put that in your GPS and you shouldn't have any trouble. If you're not actually caravanning with us, when you get to the gate just hit the button on the intercom and somebody will let you in."

"Himeros Productions?" I asked, reading his card. "Jerry and no last name. Um... wasn't Himeros a Greek god or something?" I went on, trying to remember my mythology.

"Yeah, sort of," he told me. "One of the sons of Ares." I got the feeling he was being careful. "There's no last name as a security precaution, since it's both my business and my home. Probably a bit stupid these days, with the Internet all over the place."

"Okay," I decided, intentionally making a display of tucking it in my bra. It got the desired result.

"So, do you want to hang around here and dance the night away?" Dave asked. "Or bug out to Jerry's, soak in the jacuzzi, drink champagne and nibble on caviar while telling outrageous stories of our past exploits? Yours included..."

"I'd like to dance a bit more to clear my head before driving, with you Dave," I told them, "and I'd like to get at least one dance in with Paul, if it isn't too tortuous."

"I believe, my lady, that it can be so arranged," Jerry pronounced with a dramatic flair. "Dave, escort our lovely new friend to the dance floor, while Paul and I hold down the seats."

"Sir, yes, Sir!" Dave told him, beaming, then offered me his arm. I took it. I was enjoying the hell out of this. Of course, I'd probably wake up to find out it was all a dream, that I was hungry and that room service was closed. That'd be my luck. But for now, it felt very, very good to be in Dave's arms.

We danced a few rock numbers, adjusting our dance style to the likes of ZZ Top, Jackson Browne and Aerosmith. When they got to Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb", I melted.

First off, I love Pink Floyd. Period. Second, I really love their slow ballads. Third, I really, really love "Comfortably Numb"... there are a lot of days I can identify. And fourth, it is extremely rare that any live group that isn't Pink Floyd themselves could do justice to it live. And these guys were good!

Dave drawing me in close and throwing out the concept of a dance space let me lean into him, feel him, breathe him... taste him. I couldn't help it. He was hard within seconds and I was plastered against it. He felt just as big as Jerry had and it most certainly was because of me. I was losing myself in this young sailor, and loving it.

Not that I wasn't aware of what I was doing... I just didn't care. About social convention or any of the rest of it. I laid my head on his chest and felt his muscles ripple beneath me. I was going to start flowing into him in a minute, in more ways than one, since my nethers had definitely come online. So I stretched up to nuzzle his ear... and I licked it, leaving a small nip on his earlobe behind as I floated back down to his chest.

I felt the catch in his breath, could feel his pulse increase, and I certainly felt him grow even harder.

Maybe Jerry had a room somewhere with enough privacy that Dave and I could...

Um... what if that's what all three intended?

I suddenly had a bunch of butterflies doing the proverbial conga line in my belly. It was a scary thought... but it was even scarier that I really liked the idea. Liked it enough that I was going to take the chance and go on out to Jerry's place tonight.

"God, I hope you're not just teasing," Dave murmured softly as we floated together. Then he pulled his head back slightly and looked down at me. "I mean, it's alright if you are. I love it. It's just..."

"Dave?" I looked up at him. "Shut up and dance before I do something stupid."

"Like what?" he asked, and somehow I knew he was completely oblivious.

"Like this," I told him as I put my hand behind his head and drew him down into a kiss.

That did it.

Not only had that wild hair put down roots, it had sprouted a fucking orchard. He tasted divine! And once he got over the initial shock, he returned much better than I was giving - or so I thought. My pussy was on fire and the rest of me was melting from the heat. I know it didn't last too long - a matter of seconds, maybe ten, maybe fifteen - but I was hooked. Somehow, he and I were making mad, passionate love tonight, come Hell or High Water.

We broke the kiss and there was a whole lot that wasn't said that went between our eyes before I laid my head back on his chest and we clung to each other for the rest of the song. Eventually the band wound it down and in the break before their next song, I told Dave I needed to rehydrate.

He was the perfect gentleman and escorted me off the floor and back to the bar.

"Ice water, please," I told the barman and he gave it to me. I took several sips before daring to look at the guys. In the meantime, the band had gone into Joan Jett's "I Love Rock And Roll", and that chick who was the bassist - Ginger, Jerry had said her name was - was singing lead and my God, did she have a set of lungs! Tits, too, but Jesus! She belted it out as if she were Joan herself. Hell, with that voice she could have done Stevie Nicks!

"Not to put too fine a point on it," Jerry told me, once I'd managed to look at the group, "but that was one of the sexiest slow dances I've ever seen... and that kiss was incredible - to watch, I mean. Probably made the Princess Bride list. You, my good woman, are a lot hotter than you let on."

"I'm way out of practice, trust me," I told him by way of both explanation and apology.

"Oh, no she's not," Dave murmured. I turned to smile at him and then he added, "I'm still hard."

That admission in front of his buddies floored me.

"Um. Dave..." I fumbled. "You don't have to stroke my ego or anything, you know. You're a very attractive man and I hope you know it. Hell, all three of you are. And why you're focused on me, I haven't a clue. Don't get me wrong... I'm loving it. But you could have just about any girl in this place. I don't get why me?"

"I don't want 'any girl in this place'," Dave said softly. "I want you."

"Me, too," Jerry added.

"Me, three," Paul made it unanimous.

I just shook my head in disbelief, and then was flooded with the realization that this could lead to problems. Really big problems.

"Um, guys..." I started, but Dave cut me off.

"Don't worry about it," he told me. "Los Cinco Hermanos don't have problems with jealousy or competition. Not in High School and not now. It isn't clear what's going to happen later tonight, except some good fun, food and friendship at Jerry's. But there won't be any problems and you won't be put in the position of doing anything you don't want to do, period. No means No. So relax and enjoy yourself. Maybe it's time you got the respect and attention you deserve."

The others nodded their agreement.

I was being seduced by experts. Or maybe it was sincerity and they all meant exactly what they said. Either way, I'd already decided I'd at least go out to Jerry's.

"I still want my dance with Paul before we leave," I told them. "After that, I'm good to go."

"I told you before, Ms. Elizabeth," Paul spoke up. "I don't dance that well. But if you can tolerate me fumbling around, I'm up for it."

"Look, I have to hit the Ladies'," I told him. "When I get back, we'll pick a song, okay?"

"Fine by me," he smiled and helped me off the barstool so I could make my way to the 'loo.

I had a lot to think about sitting in that stall. I had a chance to do something absolutely wild and crazy and probably stupid - have sex with three young studs I'd just met. And if they were as cooperative as they seemed, it could become a threesome or foursome... something I'd never done. I suddenly realized I wasn't as experienced and wild as I thought. And part of me yearned to go with it. Something animal inside of me was impatiently pacing as I fought it out in my head.

They'd said "no means no" and that was definitely a reassurance - if they meant it. I didn't have any overt reason to disbelieve them, but they could be running a well-rehearsed con on me and I'd never know the difference, I was so far out of my comfort zone.