The Three Signs - Book 2 - LoriChapter 28: Live At The Lifesaver free porn video
“So, how should we do these Stone’s songs?” Phil asked at our rehearsal session. “I think we all know the music, we just need to come up with a pretty awesome arrangement; we don’t want to sound like yet another cheap cover band.”
“I had some ideas, if it’s okay for me to make some suggestions,” Allison said.
“Of course it is,” Phil said. “Everyone can have a say, there’s no rule that says you can’t participate in the discussion.”
“Thanks, Phil, I guess being the newest here, I’m a bit hesitant to tell you how something could be done. But ... here goes. I’m thinking for the three, we have Will singing – just singing. Phil can play lead, he almost looks like Keith Richards, anyway. Megan can play rhythm, and we’ve got Andrew on bass. Bruce on drums, Rachel on percussion. We can work on some horn arrangements for Paul and Jillian, and I was thinking that I could sing duet with Will. Plus we have Mandy and Megan doing backing vocals.”
“That would work,” Phil said. “Any other thoughts? Let me just get a guitar I’ve got just for these songs.”
Phil returned with one of his spare guitars, an old Fender Telecaster that he had set up on open G tuning. Everyone seemed to think that sounded like a good place to start, so we gave it a run through. Rachel played the intro cow bell; Bruce picked up the beat on his drums, before Phil hit the opening riff.
I met a gin soaked, bar-room queen in Memphis,She tried to take me upstairs for a ride.
She had to heave me right across her shoulder
‘Cause I just can’t seem to drink you off my mind.
The others came in on the chorus, and I thought it sounded pretty good. Allison sang with me from the first chorus, she had a great ear for pitch, and we harmonised well.
“That sounded pretty good,” Phil said. “Any thoughts?”
“Well, we need to move around the stage as we are singing,” Allison said. “Mary Beth, do you think we can get some radio mikes for the gig? That way we won’t get caught up in the leads. We don’t need to use mikes for the rehearsing, we can just hold unplugged mikes.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Peter’s got some tucked away in Alberts somewhere; I’ll call him on Monday. I guess two microphones will be enough?”
“Yeah, two will be fine. Now Will, we’ve got to give you some attitude. What is it you think about when you hear the original Stone’s song?”
“Um, I guess their raw form of blues,” I said, not quite sure what she was getting at.
“No, not musically, what’s your basic reaction to the music.”
“Um, it’s got a pretty primal sense to it, I guess,” I said.
““That’s getting there,” Allison said. “What if I said the main message of the music is sex? Raw, down-and-dirty, primal animal sex. The sort of sex where someone drags you behind the stage, or in a side corridor, and you both fuck wildly, like animals.”
We all laughed at her description.
“No, I’m serious; what do you think a ‘honky tonk’ woman is? She’s a cheap prostitute in a country and western bar. ‘She blew my nose’? Fuck, what do you think he’s talking about, did she pull out a fucking handkerchief? She blew his cock, didn’t she?
“The whole essence of this song – and Brown Sugar, and lots of other Stones songs, is sex. Raw, fucking until you’re both lathered in sweat; pure animalistic sex. We’ve got to convey that image to the audience; all the girls there watching you have to be creaming in their cotton panties, just wanting you to pull one of them up on stage and fuck her like you’re a wild stallion.”
“Well, but ... I wasn’t sure if I could convey that I was a docile pony, let alone some wild stallion.”
“No buts, by the time the song is over, we need the whole Lifesaver smelling like one of the fish vendor’s shops at the Pyrmont Fish Market.”
“Oh, Allison, that’s gross!” Mandy said, laughing.
“It might be, but that’s how we have to get these songs done. That’s what it’s like at a real live Stones concert, there’s so much pussy juice flowing ... So we’ll need to get you a new outfit; I’ve got ideas, and you have to learn to strut and pout. Let me get changed into what I’ll wear; I’ll be back in a sec, you all start going through it.”
She ducked out the door, and headed back to the house.
“Smelling like a fish market store...”
“Creaming in their cotton panties...”
Everyone sounded very surprised at Allison’s remarks; not because what she said was outrageous, but it was rather uncharacteristic of her. Until recently, she had been rather quiet and demure. She had certainly changed since our time on the train two nights ago.
“Well, that’s what it was like when you played at the Antler last year,” Lori said. “All those girls, flashing their tits and pussies at you, and some of them even tossing their underwear up on the stage.”
“Their very damp underwear,” I corrected.
“I don’t think they would act like that at the Lifesaver,” Mary Beth said.
“That’s because the Eastern Suburbs skanks are slightly more refined than the Northern Beaches skanks,” Megan said. “We Northern Beaches types don’t fuck around!”
We started the song again, and I tried to think of the images that Allison said. She returned, just in time for the second verse. She had changed; she was wearing the skimpiest and tightest black leather shorts that would be possible to wear while still retaining some degree of decency. She had on a cream-coloured tight leather halter top; as she raised her arms holding the mike, I could see there was big panels cut out of the sides showing ample sights of the sides of her boobs. On her feet were some white leather short boots; they were the style that were called “Take me Home” boots; just higher than her ankles with a leather fringe around the top.
She changed the words of the final chorus slightly; and as she sang, she walked back and forward across the stage. No, she didn’t just walk, she strutted; her whole attire, attitude and the way she moved just oozed raw sex. No doubt that was something that she had picked up from her earlier dancing job, but, fuck me, was she damn good.
“That’s some outfit,” I said to her when we had finished.
“You like it? I never thought that I would get a chance to wear it again. Now we need to think about what you need to wear, too. Wendy, I’m thinking of an old fashioned style shirt, the kind that working men would have worn in colonial days. Can you make something out of a light linen? No buttons or collar, but cut down the front, with a leather thong as a lace?”
Wendy nodded, got a sketch pad, and started drawing.
“Sleeves like this?” she asked, and Allison nodded. “I can work on that this coming week, it shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll have to get some measurements, but I think I have almost everything I need.”
“Now pants; I’m thinking of tight black leather long pants,” Allison said. “Tight and high at the waist; something to show your arse off.”
“I’ve got some black jeans,” I said.
“No, I want something tight, so tight that when you fart, people can see the bubbles travel down to your ankles.”
“Oh double gross!” Mandy said. “Where do you get those sayings from, Alli?”
“I know a place where we can get some for you, and some suitable boots, can you pick me up at Uni Monday afternoon, and we can go across.”
“I’ll have to make sure I don’t have beans or cabbage on nights we are playing,” I said.
“I hope you’re not expecting all of us girls to be outfitted like you, Allison,” Rachel said. “If I was seen dressed like that by any of the parents of the kids in my class, or by the principal ... there would be serious words said at school, and my job would be in jeopardy!”
“Will, can I borrow one of your strats for this? My twelve-string is a bit of overkill for playing the rhythm section,” Megan asked.
“Now, Will, we have to work on your choreography for these songs,” Allison said. “The first line, it’s not ‘Memphis’, but ‘Memmmm phisssssss’. As you sing that last word, turn your head and look over your shoulder at the audience, and pout.”
I really didn’t know how to pout, but I gave it a shot.
“No, not like that, you look like you’re about to puke,” she said. “Do it like this,” and she demonstrated with her lips just how I should do it.
I tried again, she was happier with that attempt.
“What you need to do is look at a specific person, a girl, and send the message to her, ‘Well, I could fuck you, but ... I’m not sure if I want to fuck you’. Get the idea?”
We continued working through the song; Allison was insistent on just how the two of us should move on the stage, our facial expressions, how we would move our hands. I had to admit, her ideas were pretty good; we had never worried about any sort of choreography before, we just played and sang.
After one run through, where we sang together, she stood right behind me, moving exactly as I moved, with her groin rubbing against my arse. When it was finished, we took a break.
“That last time, it was as if you were trying to fuck me,” I said. “Or acting as if you wanted me to fuck you!”
“Exactly. The message we have to get to the audience is twofold; we want the girls to be watching, thinking, ‘oh, I want him to fuck me!’, and for the guys, I want them to think that I want to fuck each of them, individually. And if they think ‘she’s going to drag him off the stage, behind their amps, and fuck him to death, that’s just as good.”
“You’re a brave woman if you think you can fuck Will to death,” Lori said. “I’ve been trying for almost a year, and he’s still alive and kicking!”
“Well, I think we can at least give that a try,” I said. “As well as having to remember the words, there’s all this moving around that I have to get right.”
“Now, let’s look at how you move, how you walk,” she said to me. “Let’s see you do it, from the top, without the music.”
I started singing, I walked across the front of the stage, remembering to turn my head and pout.
“No, no, NO!” she said. “You’re not walking into one of your lecture rooms, you’re a wild sexual animal, looking for your next target, the next honky tonk woman you’re going to ride. You don’t just take plain old steps, you STRUT. Like this.”
She demonstrated; she had one hand on her hip, and each step was deliberate, very seductive.
‘Lead with your crotch, like this...”
She put her hands on my hips, pushed my bum forward, making me angle my crotch upwards.
“Now let’s try that again; remember, lead with your prick, imagine somewhere in the audience there’s a women who you want to fuck, and you are looking for her. You are very particularly about who you fuck, you don’t just want any slutty mole that’s around, the girl you pick has to be someone special.”
“That doesn’t sound like Will,” Andrew said.
“Yeah, well fuck off and just play your bass,” I said, laughing. “I am rather particular about who I get into bed with.”
We ran through the whole song again; this time I ‘strutted’, at least how I thought it should be done. At the end, everyone thought it looked and sounded pretty good.
“I felt that you were looking out into the audience at me,” Ros said. “That I was the one you were looking to find to fuck afterwards.”
“No, he was looking at me,” Lori said. “Several times I saw him staring right at me.”
“You’re both wrong, he was seeking me out to fuck,” Mary Beth said. “I’m feeling all stirred up inside after watching, too!”
“Great, that’s exactly how it should be done,” Allison said. “Every woman in the audience should feel that Will was directing those messages straight to her.
“And I guess you’re wanting to drag me off somewhere, too, Allison?” Murph said.
We all laughed; but the effect we had on those watching was exactly the way Allison had explained it right at the start. I really hadn’t tried to pick out any of the girls in particular; at various stages of the song I would look at one, then later look at another.
“That was well done, everyone,” Phil said. “Your suggestions were perfect, Allison, damn, I think we’ve now got ourselves an official choreographer, too!”
“Well, it’s something that’s been lacking,” Allison said. “Let’s take a ten minute break, and we’ll start on Brown Sugar.”
“So, who was it you were thinking about fucking as you were singing that song?” Lori asked me as we sat out on the laundry sun-deck roof.
“God, I was so busy concentrating on the right moves, ‘strutting’ properly, pouting, synchronizing with Allison so I didn’t trip her up, there was too much going on in my mind to think about fucking anyone!”
“Could have fooled me,” she replied, smiling. “I was squeezing my thighs together, it was getting pretty arousing! I suppose that’s how it is meant to be. What do you think of Alli’s outfit? Pretty sexy, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, she looks pretty good in it. I’d love to see you wearing something like that, you would look really sexy.”
“I don’t have the curves to wear a top like that, at least, not doing it justice. She’s got the figure to really fill it out, so when you look at her from the side, there’s all these teasing glimpses of her boob. It’s nice, really sexy; I think she will turn most women on, not just the guys.”
“I like wearing it, too,” Allison said, sitting down next to us on the bench. “It’s one of the few outfits from my time dancing and stripping that I can probably wear on stage. Maybe not at Crystal though, but at other gigs. I like wearing it, and the shorts, the outfit makes me feel sexy and powerful.”
“I’d like to try some shorts like that, too; and the top,” Megan said. “I could wear it when we play some live gigs.”
“You’d look good in that, Megan. You might need a slightly larger size than mine, your breasts are a little bigger. Why don’t you come over with us Monday afternoon? You can look around and see what else Charlie has in his store.”
“Ready for the next one?” Phil said. “Do we want to do Brown Sugar? Same arrangements as with the last one?”
“Okay, you know what this song’s all about, don’t you,” Allison asked. “Sugar is a southern US euphemism for sex, and ‘brown sugar’ is an attractive black American woman, that you’ve picked up for sex.”
“There was an expression that my mother jokes about with my father, ‘Give me some sugar, sugar’, but I think she’s just asking for a kiss,” Mary Beth said. “She’ll pronounce it ‘shuga’, not stretch the last syllable out to ‘sugar’, like we would.”
“I suspect Mom is looking for more from Dad that just a kiss,” Lori said. “You know what they can be like!”
“Lori! I don’t want to think about our parents having sex!” Mary Beth said. “That’s just ... WRONG!”
We all laughed at her attitude.
“Well, we know that they have had sex at least twice,” I said.
“Knowing them, they’ve probably had sex twice today!” Lori said, making her sister cringe again.
“Okay, back to work. This next one is all about wild interracial sex, maybe even a bit on the illicit side,” Allison said. “So, we want to convey the same messages as with ‘Honky Tonk Woman’, build on the previous song.”
“What version of the first verse do we want,” I asked. “The original, ‘hear him whip the women’, or the tamer version, ‘hear him with the women’? What can we get away with?”
“I reckon we go with the original,” Phil said. “Unless you prefer not to whip them?”
“Nah, we’ll whip ‘em,” I said. “Any special choreography, Allison?”
“Not sure yet, maybe just more strutting and pouting. Remember, when you get the line ‘how come you taste so good’, you know what it is you’re referring to, don’t you?”
“Of course, I wasn’t born yesterday!”
“So pick out a woman in the audience, and just run the tip of your tongue across your upper lip, like this.”
She demonstrated with a delicate pink tip. Damn, she even made that look like the world’s most erotic act. How could I emulate that? I tried to do the same; I felt stupid, but Allison said it wasn’t bad for a first try. We played through the song a few times; without singing the lyrics just so everyone was familiar with the music, tempo and rhythm. Instead of singing the words, I ‘sang’ the chord pattern in time with the melody.
Megan and Mandy worked out a great horn fill for the chorus; with the two of them, plus Paul and Jillian playing, and Rachel adding lots of percussion fills, the music sounded fantastic; they kept the rhythm driving along. After two run throughs (without any singing) everyone had a big grin on their face.
“That sounds pretty damn good,” Andrew said. “Think we’re ready to give it the full treatment; let’s see you strut, Will!”
Phil led off with the intro; I took my cue from Allison, ‘strutting’ back and forward along the front of the stage. Again, she positioned herself right behind me, her hands on my hips, pressed right against my backside. I would have to concentrate pretty hard to keep my mind on the song, and not allow any erotic thoughts to take over my mind. It certainly didn’t help when she whispered in my ear.
“You’re looking really good, I can’t wait until you get the outfit I’m thinking of.”
Gold coast slave ship bound for cotton fieldsSold in a market down in New Orleans
Scarred old slaver knows he’s doing alright
Hear him whip the women just around midnight
Again, she sang harmony; we did sound pretty good together.
“Remember, pout and lick your lips, you really want to taste some brown sugar,” she said.
Brown sugar how come you taste so good?Brown sugar just like a young girl should
I could have sworn Allison sang ‘taste my brown sugar’, but that was probably my imagination playing tricks on me. Between verses, we moved around the front of the stage with some more ‘strutting’. I only hoped Allison knew what she was doing with the choreography; I had to admit I felt a little bit silly doing it all. We continued on and finished the song; we kept repeating the final verse several times, until Phil gave us the wind up. It still needed lots of work, but it should be presentable by the time the gig was on.
“I’ve just got one question,” I said. “Looking at the lyric sheet here, sometimes the line in the chorus is ‘just like a young girl should’, and other times it’s ‘just like a black girl should’. I’m not sure how comfortable I am with singing the ‘black girl’ version; what’s the consensus, is it crossing a bit of a racism line with that?”
There was discussion back and forth, but Rachel ended the argument.
“Hey, I’m the only black girl here, and I don’t take offense at it. I mean, the whole theme of the song is based on the slave trade to the US, which for someone descended from those slaves might be a bit offensive anyway, but ... I mean, you’re singing about ‘brown sugar’; and we all know that’s not the sweet stuff you sprinkle on your corn flakes, so what’s the big deal? Besides, a black girl should taste like ‘brown sugar’, anyway. It’s just a song, we sing the original lyrics, and if some sensitive people get upset, well, they can go and get a life.”
That pretty much settled things; so we sang it through several more times, complete with the ‘black girl’ references.
I bet your mama was a tent show queenAnd all her boyfriends were sweet sixteen
I’m no schoolboy but I know what I like
You shoulda heard me just around midnight
Brown sugar how come you taste so good, baby?
Ah, brown sugar just like a young girl should, yeah
I said yeah, yeah, yeah, woo
How come you ... how come you taste so good?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, woo
Just like a ... just like a black girl should
Yeah, yeah, yeah, woo.
We still needed lots more practice, I particularly needed to work on the choreography; but I’m sure it would eventually come good. Before we started on the final Stone’s number for the set, Allison suggested that maybe Mandy would be the ideal person to sing lead on it.
“I’m just looking though all the numbers in the proposed set; Megan is singing some, Will and I some, why don’t you do ‘Paint It Black’, Mandy. It should really suit your voice,” she said.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that!” Mandy exclaimed. “Not after you’ve come out wearing that, and no doubt Megan will be looking just as hot. Everyone will say ‘what’s this ugly fat broad doing, standing up the front and singing’. No, I’ll just stay in the back and hide my body.”
“You know that’s not true, Mandy,” Allison said, sternly. “You already get up front at Crystal and sing there, everybody says how fantastic you are. I’ve got some thoughts on what you can wear, and how we can stage the song, so people will be so concentrated on your performance, they won’t notice anything else.”
“No, I’ll be a laughing stock. They’ll be going on about what’s that fat cow doing up on stage.”
“Hey, listen to me. You’re not a fat cow, or anything like that. When I was stripping at Eros, one of the other dancers was big, really big. But she was probably the most popular dancer there, everybody loved her, she got stacks of tips. So don’t think you can’t get up in front of us and sing.”
“Yeah, but people were just there to look at her tits and pussy,” Mandy said.
“Just like people will be at the gig to watch and hear you sing. As soon as you start singing, no one will notice how big or small you are.”
“Well, I’ll give it a try, but if I don’t feel all that happy with things, I’ll pull out.”
“Now, this song is quite different to the first two we did,” Allison said. “This isn’t about the raw, in your face primal sex of the others, but it’s all about depression and desolation. So there won’t be any strutting or pouting in this one. The picture I have of how we’ll do it is for you to stand at the central mike, Mandy, hunched over, as if you’re scared...”
Allison demonstrated how she pictured the presentation; Mandy quickly got the concept. The third and fourth lines of each verse though she wanted Mandy to look up and around, as if someone had turned on a switch inside her.
Just as before, we played through the music several times, without any vocals, just to make sure we all had it right. When we felt comfortable with the melody, we played it again, with Mandy singing. It’s wasn’t bad for a first attempt; she had Allison standing in front of the stage, giving her directions on how to move. The final part was still pretty ropey; but we had well over a week to work on things.
“One final run through for ‘Paint it’, and we should call it an afternoon, head over to Crystal,” Phil said. “It’s been a really productive session, thanks everyone. Particularly you, Allison, your suggestions were really good.”
After the final run through of the afternoon, Wendy asked me to wait a minute so she could get my measurements for the shirt she would be making for me to wear. Once she had finished, Lori ran her hands over my chest.
“I can’t wait to see these tight leather pants you have planned for him, Allison,” she said. “He needs to show his bum off more.”
“Just well the Lifesaver isn’t a big gay hangout,” Wendy said. “He might get lucky otherwise.”
“Just wait until you see Charlie, who runs the place where we are going Monday, to get the outfits!” Allison said.
When we arrived at Crystal, I was surprised to see Fifa waiting for us; she asked us to come up to the main office. Ted Albert was there with Alex; they motioned us to take a seat around the table.
“Well, the arrangements for the first ‘Saturday Jam at Crystal’ is pretty much all solidified,” Ted said. “In two weeks’ time, we will be having Tony Bennett here, to perform with you. How does that sound?”
“Bloody intimidating!” I said.
“He’s a very generous and giving performer,” Ted said. “He’s looking forward to performing with you; during the discussions with him, he listened to your live album from last year, and is particularly keen to sing duets with each of you in turn.”
“Sounds pretty good,” Phil said. “Do we need to prepare anything? The timing’s going to be pretty tight, we’re getting ready for the Lifesaver gig the week after next, so we won’t have much time to prepare anything new.”
“No need for working up anything new, I’ve pulled a list of songs from your usual repertoire that he would want to perform.”
We looked through the list, ‘Fly Me to the Moon’, ‘I Left my Heart in San Francisco’, ‘Wonderful’, ‘Quarter to Nine’, ‘Anything Goes’, plus a number of other similar pieces.
“I can’t see any of those being a problem,” Megan said. “Not a lot of difference from what we play every week.”
“Great, we’ll get times and details to you later in the week. Just to give you a heads up, we are in negotiations with Ricky May and Air Supply, possibly in June, and G. Wayne Thomas after that,” he said.
“That’s a big variety in styles there,” I said.
“I’m sure you’ll be up to it, now I’ll leave you to get ready for tonight’s performance. Is everything looking good for the double-header with AC/DC next week?”
We told him briefly how the rehearsal session went today, he seemed pleased, and he and Fifa left. We set things up on stage, and waited until the start of the evening’s performance, which all went pretty well. Sunday morning I spent working on some assignments; there were several due in over the next two weeks. After lunch we had another rehearsal session for the Lifesaver gig; we started out playing the full set in order, then practiced the three new Stones numbers several times, and finished off with the full set run-through before dinner. After dinner it was time to sit down in front of the TV to watch ‘Countdown’; in particular Lori and Megan’s appearance on the show.
Somehow we managed to get all seventeen of us (plus Fred) into the living room; there was lots of heckling when Lori and Megan eventually appeared, sitting on a sofa opposite Molly.
“Shut up, you pack of idiots, we want to hear what’s being said,” Paul shouted out.
After Molly Meldrum introduced the two, he asked about the single, how it came to be written.
“Well, we were working on our first album,” Megan said, “and it was suggested that we should see about writing some songs. Lori and I were talking about that, trying to think of possible themes, and we just hit on this idea.”
“Once we had the general idea, I worked on the lyrics; that took a few weeks, and then we worked on it together, with Will, refining it,” Lori said. “Megan then worked on the music, to fit in with how the song progressed.”
“Finally, we put it in front of the whole group, and they gave it the harder, rockier edge. It was really a big team effort.”
“It seems to have a pretty personal message in it,” Molly said. “Was it written from any particular experience, um, err, is it a message to anyone in particular?”
“No, nothing like that at all,” Lori answered. “It’s just about an experience that I guess every teenage girl goes through; there’s this guy she’s keen on, but he doesn’t seem to notice her. And just when she thinks she’s starting to get him to notice her, some other girl cuts in and steals him away from her. There wasn’t any specific episode in either of our lives that inspired it; it’s just a common experience in growing up everyone has.”
“I guess that’s why it’s become so popular, the story and message resonates with most people,” Megan added.
“Well, it’s a great song, and, um, do you think you would like to perform it for us, Megan?” he asked.
I knew that Megan would be miming the song to the recorded version; but watching the show I couldn’t tell that her voice wasn’t live. Maybe they used her actual singing, over the background? Either way, she sounded pretty good. After she had finished, Molly congratulated her on the performance, and the single and the album.
“Everyone, go out and do yourself a favour, buy a copy of this album,” he said, holding up a copy. “We all need to support up and coming local talent.”
He then thanked Megan and Lori for coming on the show, and wished them (and the rest of us) all the best. We all thought it was a pretty good appearance; we teased Megan at how Molly Meldrum appeared not to be able to take his eyes off her.
“You know it’s a waste of time wearing that short, low cut dress for him,” Phil said. “No matter what you wore, you know he’s never going to be your type.”
“That’s what I wear all the time when I sing that style of song,” she replied.
“Well, I think you both did a great job there, with luck it will translate to more sales,” I said.
We were all pretty excited about the two of them being on national TV; it certainly gave the single and album plenty of exposure.
“There was one thing he said to us after the recording,” Lori said. “Molly asked us where might be playing live soon, and I told him about next week’s double header gig at the Lifesaver. He sounded very interested, and said he would talk to people at Alberts, to see if there might be a chance of the ABC recording it live.
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