The Guitar Hero Goes Home

By Marilyn Jaye Lewis

Experimental adult literary fiction. An American rock & roll legend, in the final year of his life, finally comes clean about sex, drugs, and rock & roll.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 6, 2021
• ISBN: 9781716833212

Book preview

Girl in the Night

How It Was

THE STREETLIGHT OUTSIDE YOUR WINDOW lit up your bed at night. Even with those Venetian blinds down, that streetlight shone in.

In the beginning, when we first met and you’d fall asleep after making love, I’d stand there by the window, smoke a cigarette, and look at that streetlight shining in on you – all over your loneliness.

You’d had years of it – that loneliness. It had gotten so that you didn’t recognize what it was anymore.

Empty room. Empty bed. Empty house. Except, of course, for you in it. You, in all your loveliness, alone in a big empty bed, thinking about dying. Thinking about it as if it were an idea that made sense.

Oh, honey. Not yet, it doesn’t.

When I first saw you, you were like a light – coming through a sort of tunnel, right at me. I heard my music coming from you, plain as day. I could not look away from your light.

Then it was like I was following my own voice, my own songs – songs I had written so long ago. I followed them straight into that tunnel of light, and when I found you at the other end of it, you were just a huge pool of light.

That’s how I saw you.

A huge pool of light that I slipped right into. Going swimming in that pool, I told myself. I’m going swimming.

*    *    *

What You Saw

Honey, you saw it like sex. Right away.

I’m not sure I saw it like that, at first. I was just so caught up in the feelings that were coming from you, girl. I wanted to join in somehow.

I guess, before I knew it, it was sex. I didn’t come looking for that from you, though. I’m not sure what I wanted. I was confused.

I didn’t know how to get started with you. I didn’t know how to find my voice, even. What was I supposed to say to you?

You were so agreeable, though.

It was that willingness you had to say yes. To everything. And the power of that yes was kind of unbelievable on my end. It pulled me right in. Right in.

At first, I wasn’t sure that you were saying: yes, you can touch me.

When I figured it out, I was blown away. I can touch her? I thought. She’s saying I can touch her? Does she even know who I am?

But you did know who I was.

You saw me, somehow. You knew me.

That felt like the most amazing drug I’d ever taken. To be known. What a gift. What a miracle. No boundaries. No boundaries at all, except skin. And you were somehow even able to get past the boundary of skin.

I have been telling you for weeks now that you have a huge heart. And I don’t think that you’ve believed me. I think you think it’s just something I’m saying to be saying it.

You can be stubborn like that, but I know it’s because you’re so insecure.

*    *    *

Who I Am

I didn’t come here to be your daddy. I’m not your daddy, and I know you know that. But that first time we were really having sex – meaning that we were finally losing ourselves to the whole rhythm of it, but you were having a hard time coming, you said to me in a smaller voice than you normally have, you said, Daddy, let your little girl come.

Wow. That thrilled me. As if I have any power over when your body can come, right? Still, it rushed through me, the power of what you wanted from me. And it was even more exciting when you actually finally came.

That orgasm. It was so explosive.

I’ve got a daddy thing, you finally confessed. So quietly.

*    *    *

I pull away from the daddy thing, only because I am a daddy.

I have two girls. Grown now.

I’m not sexual with them, never have been, never will be. It messed with my head just a little bit. I mean, I did know the difference between my girls and what you wanted from me. I’ve been around. I know some girls like to get spanked. I don’t mind that. But I just wasn’t expecting you to be coming from that place.

Until that moment when you were having trouble coming, you had never said anything at all like that before. Never called me Daddy.

Of course, we barely knew each other then, so it’s not like I had some long frame of reference to draw from.

I don’t know that I can be your daddy, although some nights I do try and we seem to do real well with that scene.

I do like how it feels when you are so shy and so dirty – just for me. Honey, that’s thrilling.

But I have a girl who was a real problem child, from way back. She went so far astray so quickly that I had to be this disciplinarian-type father, and I didn’t enjoy that. I was uncomfortable – well, guilty; I felt guilty.

I knew my fame had created the problems that she was rebelling against, and then I had to punish her for getting caught up in all the problems my fame had created for her.

Well, I get those feelings tangled up with you and that’s when I feel confused.

The daddy thing.

Your daddy thing.

It runs so deep in you. That need. That discipline that has become such a fetish for you.

And you move so easily into that whole leather belt thing, too.

It’s okay. I’m not judging that, but I see it as the result of what a lifetime of very little love can do to a girl.

Then the other night, when I told you that I had disciplined that one daughter when she was small, that maybe I’d spanked her once – you got so weird.

What was the big deal?

I couldn’t get you, you know?

You wanted this side of me in bed, and you said you wanted to know the real me outside of bed. But when your fantasy of me collided with who I’d really been as a daddy – I don’t know what happened. But a big wall went up.

It was you telling me that I could not be the real me in bed with you; I could not be the whole man I was.

It wasn’t a deal-breaker, or anything. It didn’t keep the sex from being really hot that night. It was. My dirty girl – making you say that while looking right at me. Wow. I knew it was hard for you. It was making you squirm. That was so hot. I did get off on forcing you to look me in the eye and tell me you were my dirty girl, while my fingers had you on the verge of coming.

There was truly something primal there and I felt like I was starting to understand you.

*    *    *

Who You Are

I’ll say here, you know, that I wasn’t expecting you to be as shy as you actually are.

The things your heart flees from, tries to hide from while we’re making love. Wow. Sometimes it just throws me.

And then I think to myself: Christ, woman. Has your life really been that empty of love?

I see now that it has. How sad that is.

Honey, those are the nights I want to just lay with you. Hold you. I just want to slow you down and let you feel loved.

I like that you try so hard to learn how to behave in new ways.

I like that you are allowing yourself to believe now that you could actually be loved.

One of those nights early on, when the sex between us was really getting good. Just so good. And when you came, you said you loved me.

And I said I love you.

And you said, to my surprise, Thank you for saying that.

And I said, Thank you for hearing me.

It does feel good when you hear me – when you hear what I’m saying. A lover wants to be heard when he’s talking about real love. But that particular night, it ran deeper than that.

Trying to love a girl who does not know how to be loved, how to accept love, how to hear the words without rationalizing why the words aren’t really meant for her – that can be frustrating.

So, that night, that was a big part of what I was saying, because you actually did hear me. And you know I love you. But you still struggle with hearing those words I love you and believing them to be true.

2.

Man in the Light

HONEY, I THINK YOUR ASS LOOKS SO CUTE when you lie like that on your belly. Your legs spread just enough to remind me of why I love so much to get in between them.

I’ve always thought that pussy was the center of the world. The smack dead center of the whole wide world.

When I was younger, every time I could get a girl in the daylight to turn over onto her belly for me, wow. That was the thing. That was the thing I loved. Seeing that view from behind.

I’m gonna tell you a story about me being younger.

It’s another one of my dirty stories, honey, so you just lie there like that and relax.

Wait. Let me get a cigarette.

*    *    *

This is the story about the view from behind. My first real look at a girl. In the sunshine.

I was 16. She was about a year older.

School was still going on but it was almost summertime. We were standing next to my car, about to get into the back seat. We were gonna make out in broad daylight – it was the middle of the afternoon. But I stopped her before she got into the car and I said to the girl, real quietly:

Turn around, okay? I had an agenda - I’m sorry to say that. But I did.

She turned around, facing away from me, and then I just held her to me. My arms pulling her back right up to my front. I wanted her to know I was already hard, so I purposely pressed it against her behind. When she didn’t spook, I hugged her real tight and I whispered in her ear:

Is it okay if I unzip your pants? Right out here in the open?

Okay, she said.

Her voice was so quiet. It really was part of the spell – her voice.

So I unzipped her pants. You know, me still behind her, up close, trying not to fumble with the top button too much. Get the little zipper down. Not like the zipper us boys had on our jeans. It was more delicate somehow.

When the zipper was down, it was a big moment, you know. I was pretty sure she was gonna let me pull her pants down, but you can’t be 100% positive about a dicey thing like that until you begin. So I began.

I tugged her pants down her thighs a little and she let me. Right out there in the open.

God, her panties were cute.

I couldn’t believe she had let me get that far. She didn’t turn around. She just stood there, her back to me.

I realized that she was breathing funny, you know. She was excited and I couldn’t believe a girl that good-looking could get that excited about being with me.

I got rock hard then. I hate to use that cliché, honey, but man; I had no recollection of having ever been that hard. I had not had intercourse before. She didn’t know that. I didn’t know if she’d had it yet or not, and I didn’t wanna ask for fear that she’d just wanna pull up her pants and go home. So, right in her ear, I asked her quietly if she was doing okay.

(Yes)

Can I take your panties down, too? Just a little? Right out here like this?

(Okay. But only a little.)

I was still sort of holding her, but I was pulling down those cute panties. I was so hot for her. She was so pretty, and I couldn’t believe that I was that close to her – close enough to smell her pretty hair - let alone that we were doing that kind of thing in broad daylight.

My car was parked in a sort of clearing that was out there at the edge of the woods. It’s where everybody used to go back then. I don’t think it’s there anymore. I think they put in houses there a while back.

Anyhow. The cute panties. So fucking cute. Over fifty years ago now and I will never forget those panties – white but with a pretty pattern. You know, pink, yellow. Pastel colors. Like the colors you think of when you think of girls.

So I pulled her panties down, and I remember how erotic it felt – how it felt to sort of slide them down over her butt.

Her rear end, I mean.

It was really a true rear end. Not a butt. A sexy, soft rear end that was so round. Just like yours, sweetie.

No, you stay there. Come on, lay back down. I’m still talking.

So. I couldn’t just tug the panties straight down; I had to pull them down over that soft, sexy rear end.

I thought I was gonna shoot just from the way that felt.

Her voice was kinda trembling, you know? I could tell she was getting really excited. Of course, that got me even more excited. I was feeling like it was really turning out to be a great day.

I won’t tell you her name, but I do remember