the Summer Moonlight
love rock music. I love writing. With the promise of next summer’s
concert season fast approaching, I am eagerly looking to discover
which of my favorite groups will be touring and hoping for my
luck that they will perform near me. As I anticipate the coming
season I fondly look back upon last summer. I enjoyed several
concerts, attending all as an excited fan, some as a dedicated
reviewer and others as a nervous interviewer. While each was special,
one in particular stood apart as a memory to treasure.
festival was held on a sticky, hot Midwestern August day. Amidst
the sea of bodies waiting for the gates of the pavilion to open
the heat was even more oppressive. This time I knew I was there
as a fan and as a reviewer. What I didn’t know was whatever
else my connections could open up, allowing me to meet with a
favorite band. Enjoying a spectacular show from a band you have
loved and appreciated is truly incomparable, as every loyal music
fan knows. Using my talent as a writer to create a review that
promotes others to attend their shows is my ‘thank you’
to the group. But the chance of actually meeting with the members,
speaking with them, getting a hug, handshake or photo with them,
thanking them in person, getting a glimpse of their personalities
is . . . well, just exhilarating. It is a euphoria requiring no
intoxication or substance abuse. I had long ago learned that these
meetings were chance happenings, no matter how many connections
to tour managers, publicists or record company agents I had. So
I expected no easy time, but did have hope and a lot of determination.
had come dressed appropriately to garner attention from both the
management and band members, should I be able to meet them. Doors
do seem to open for a pretty girl in the male world of metal music.
I wore short-shorts, four-inch ankle tie sandals and a top cut
low enough that some white skin on the tops of my breasts became
sunburned from first ever exposure. Most of the fans were teenage
males who secretly cast glances my way, but were never bold enough
to approach. Thank goodness it was clear I was not there for them.
the late afternoon the band I had come to see began a meet and
greet. I sought out my contact, the record company promotions
tour manager. After I refreshed his memory about who I was and
requested to join the band after their show he arranged for me
to attend the musicians’ barbecue. I was thrilled, but knew
well enough that plans after concerts can often go wrong at the
last minute. So, I had to quell my enthusiasm and be patiently
hopeful. That was not easily done; I am not known for my patience.
From the length of the enormous line it looked like the meet and
greet would last more than an hour. As the fans filed past the
autographing table I stood behind the seated musicians, trying
to look ‘official’ while chatting with various record
company representatives. Some openly leered at me. Others, eager
for a fresh face to talk with, droned on and on. I pretended to
listen, able to focus only on the amazing men in the band I wanted
so badly to know more about. However, I did enjoy the luxury of
time to drink them in visually and delight in their foreign accents.
The flashy guitar duo seemed to be the ladies’ favorites,
getting to sign many breasts. I found the drummer and bass player
a bit shy in comparison, but more charming and endearing. Their
keyboard player proved too foreign to evaluate from my perspective.
then at the end of the table you sat. I could not peel my eyes
from you, your waist-length nearly black hair . . . hair that
I envied as a female, falling from tightly crimped waves near
your scalp to corkscrew spirals below. If I could only have only
gotten my hands into that hair. My mind drifted while the management
lady continued to ramble. I thought how delicious it would feel
having those curls coiling around my fingers while your hands
roamed all over me, exploring my body. Those long strands led
my eyes to enjoy the toned muscles of your torso. I used my precious
time wisely and took in every tempting inch I could see, even
appreciating each silver or black leather bracelet. Spent this
way, the time passed very quickly. The signing ended. Standing
within a circle of protective officials you turned and looked
directly at me. You surveyed me at length with an enticing, hungry
gaze while twirling the tip of your tongue across a sucker, like
such a bad little boy. The movement of your eyes across my body
gave me the most delicious chills. Oh, how I wanted to taste that
tongue. Managers too soon pulled you away from me and the next
time I would see you was onstage.
late afternoon skies clouded over and rain peppered down upon
the crowd. That was welcomed by many fans weary from the heat
and whose ears were blistered by nine death metal and alternative
metal bands. But by the time the main pavilion was opened for
the evening’s schedule most were eager for shelter. Between
acts I found my seat in the third row of the small central section,
a great position among an audience of fifteen thousand. Within
minutes the intro music began and one-by-one each band member
made a dramatic entrance. The drummer slammed down his signature
blast beats and the extreme power metal magic began. The guitar
duo assaulted with their lightning-paced twin attack. The crowd
roared. The entire pavilion was electrified with anticipation.
that very moment, as if on cue, the bright orange rays of the
setting sun pierced the clouds. Colors far more vibrant than from
any stage lighting streamed across the fans’ heads and lit
the musicians. As in my perfect dream, that signaled the moment
when the graceful strength of your high-pitched vocals began sailing
over top of the musical onslaught. You confidently strode center
stage. Dressed like a metal god in black leather pants you struck
rock star poses, powerful wide stances, arms spread open to draw
the world to you. The sunlit stage was on fire with the frenzy
of ultrafast music. I was held mesmerized, awakened only when
individual band members stepped directly in front of me, greeting
me with waves and smiles. While my attention was fixed upon the
guitarists blazing through lengthy dueling solos you slipped out
into the crowd. The bass player passed the time standing no more
than fifteen feet from me, making silly faces to delight in my
laughter. Between his game and the dazzling solos I had no idea
you were beside me at my aisle seat. I felt those lovely long
curls tickle my bare arm. I turned and was quickly swept to another
world as your lips briefly brushed mine before you took off in
a run for the stage, mic in hand with your unearthly powerful
vocals soaring across the entire pavilion. After that kiss my
ears could only hear your voice. I was no longer breathing air,
but instead the strength of your melodic vocals. The feeling was
pure magic, which continued after the show ended.
had to remind myself there was more fun promised for this evening.
My mind and body were too blissfully numb to be nervous about
meeting the band members. I don’t recall exactly how I left
my seat and came to wait next to the tour buses as the manager
had instructed me. Before the next act took the stage the last
rays of the sunset were once again blocked by a cloudy sky, as
though the sun had shone only for you. And that I could well understand.
My body burned for you, to touch you and to feel your hands upon
me, enjoying my curves.
some immeasurable time the drummer and bass player appeared and
escorted me to the musicians’ barbecue held in the now deserted
secondary stage area. The two men were so very charming, wonderfully
funny and attentive. Although I had hoped to find you I was at
least grateful for their company. I certainly did not wish to
become a snack for the various death metal musicians mingling
about. Our conversations continued and still you were not present.
My heart began to sink slightly. The music from the main stage
drifted to my ears and I lost focus on the discussions happening
grounds suddenly became draped in the soft white glow of a full
moon, revealed from behind a passing cloud. It commanded my attention
and I looked up, enjoying its beauty. Once again I felt the gentle
brush of hair against the bareness of my arm. I smiled and knew
it was you before I lowered my eyes. My singer alone stood before
me. There was no one else in the secured party area; they had
vanished. You stepped closer toward me. Your freshly washed black
curls gleamed in the moonlight. You returned my smile. I could
not resist and reached out to finger a couple of beaded braids
framing your face. You looked down into my eyes and pulled me
close, bringing your lips to mine. The kiss was sweetly restrained,
savoring the anticipation. I melted in your arms. Sensing that,
you reveled in controlling my pleasures, thrusting your tongue
deeply into my mouth to dance with mine.
could still hear the music of the final act playing distantly.
The sounds of the searing guitars moved through us, driving our
passions. Your hands passed over me, removing my top, leaving
a trail of tingling flesh. I delighted in exploring the definitions
of your chest and shoulders. Again, I felt dizzy as though I was
not breathing air, but was sustained by some other life force
that your magic gave to me. My legs became weak and you guided
me to lean against the top of a nearby picnic table. Holding my
gaze spellbound you unfastened my shorts and let them fall, along
with my panties, to the ground. You then stepped back to admire
me standing naked in the moonlight, so consumed with you that
I could already feel you inside me, your heart beating next to
mine even though we were feet apart.
wisp of cloud passed across the moon and I could no longer see
you in the overcast darkness, although I still felt your presence.
The heat of your breath was upon my neck and then your tongue
traced lower. I longed to taste you, but was denied that pleasure
while you enjoyed the curves of my femininity.
the moonbeams once again shone brightly you were naked and upon
me, entering my warm wetness. For those moments I was yours alone,
our hearts beat to the same exact rhythm and my breath was sustained
by your essence. You delighted in taking me even higher; a tremble
coursed through my body.
cloud rolled across the edge of the moon. You supported me, holding
us tightly together as tingling warmth spread down my legs, making
them convulse and clamp harder around you. I felt the softness
of your lips brushing against mine . . . just until the moment
the moon’s face became totally darkened. I opened my eyes
and my singer was gone.
night air was crisp and I took a deep breath to steady myself.
The last fans were leaving and the crew was cleaning the grounds.
I ambled toward the parking lot and saw you standing by your tour
bus. I stepped up to you. Staring deeply into my eyes you pulled
me close into your arms and pressed your lips to mine. We said
our goodbyes. As I walked away I turned around to see you watching
me, longingly, from the door of the bus. The moon’s face
smiled brightly down upon me.
is a writer who has recently moved from Ohio to sunny Tampa, Florida.
She enjoys blending fantasy, erotica and romance themes in her
2009 by Marsha Lockom