Front Man 3 : Full Frontal (Part #3 of the Front Man series) (2 page)

“I’m
not sure I have one of those.”

“Oh, you do
honey,” Erica said softly, “it’s just a question of
finding it. Man, I bet I could teach you a few things.”

Sara looked up into
her best friends eyes. Erica still had the vibrator in her hand, her
other arm looped around Sara’s waist. Their faces were inches
apart, and Sara could see the color in her friend’s cheeks and
hear the depth of her breathing. But it was still a shock when
Erica’s full, wine stained lips were lowered onto her own. Sara
couldn’t help but respond as Erica kissed her deeply, her soft
lips parting as she eased her tongue into her mouth. Sara had never
kissed another woman before. She had no idea it could feel this good.
They fell back onto the bed, Erica’s hands sliding under Sara’s
pajama top to gently stroke her breasts. Sara felt a rush of moisture
flood her pussy as her clitoris swelled, desperate to be touched.
Nervously, she began to return Erica’s caresses, rubbing the
hard points of her nipples through the fabric of her nightgown, until
Erica pulled it off and sat before her, naked except for her skimpy
lace panties. Erica took Sara’s hand and guided it to her
breasts, moaning softly as she squeezed the full orbs. They had seen
each other naked a hundred times before, but it had never felt like
this. Erica moved Sara’s hand lower, sliding it beneath her
underwear, and Sara gasped as she felt the wetness of her friend’s
shaved pussy. Her fingers slid over Erica’s clitoris, causing
her friend to moan with desire, and Sara rubbed it in slow, firm
circles, the way she herself liked it. With her other hand she
continued to stroke Erica’s nipples, intent now on giving her
friend as much pleasure as possible. Erica was groaning, grinding
against Sara’s fingers, her head thrown back, lost in the
pleasure of the moment. Gently, Sara slid her friend’s panties
down her thighs. Without stopping her ministrations, she moved her
other hand to the entrance of Erica’s wet pussy, and carefully
slid two fingers inside. Erica moaned deeply as Sara moved her
fingers inside her. “Oh shit, Sara, oh my god I’m gonna
come, don’t stop, oh please don’t stop.” Sara began
to thrust harder, until she felt her friend’s pussy spasm
around her fingers, and Erica moaned with satisfaction.

Barely pausing for
breath, Erica pushed Sara into the bed, sliding down her body leaving
a trail of kisses in her wake. Sara gasped as Erica slid her pajama
bottoms off, leaving her pussy exposed. Erica trailed her fingers up
Sara’s long legs, stroking the rubbery tip of the vibrator over
the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. Reflexively, Sara opened her
legs wider. Her clitoris was throbbing and her pussy ached to be
filled. Erica let the vibrating ‘ears’ of the toy linger
on Sara’s pussy lips, and she felt a jolt of pleasure so
intense she cried aloud. Erica smiled, moving the toy closer to
Sara’s desperate clitoris. As the vibrations hit her most
sensitive spot, she was overcome by a wave of sensation. Then Erica
slid the toy gently between the slick lips of her pussy, stretching
her open until she was full to the hilt. Just when Sara thought she
couldn’t take any more, she felt something shift inside her as
Erica activated the rotating shaft. Erica kissed her friend deeply as
the toy worked its magic, gently pumping the shaft of the vibrator in
and out of Sara’s dripping pussy while her tongue toyed with
her friend’s nipples. “Oh god, Oh, Oh!” Sara cried
as a monumental orgasm ripped through her, making her whole body
convulse. She shook from head to toe as the pleasure rushed through
her, holding on to Erica as she rode the waves. Finally, they
subsided, leaving her relaxed. The two friends lay entwined for a
moment, sweaty and tingling, waiting for their breathing to return to
normal.

"Well, shit."
Erica said, and laughed breathily. Something about the absurdity of
the moment made Sara join in, and they both collapsed into giggles.

"So, we're
still friends, right?" Sara ventured, once she was able to
speak. 

"Unless you're
going to get all weird about it, then yeah, of course we are dummy!"
Erica retorted. 

"Good. That
was what I hoped you would say." 

Erica stood up,
stretched, and headed for the bathroom. Sara slipped back into her
pyjamas and padded down the hallway to her own bedroom. She was
wiping off her smudged makeup when Erica appeared in the doorway, now
wrapped in her fluffy pink bathrobe.

"You're going
to go looking for her, aren't you?" She said bluntly.

"Who?"

"That girl.
Jack's sister."

"Laura. I...I
don't know. Maybe."

"Sara..."

"Well, why
not? I know it's not going to make Jack fall madly in love with me or
anything stupid like that. But I know he's desperate to see her
again. And if I can help, well, why wouldn't I?"

"She's kept
away for all these years. I mean, Jack Carter's not exactly a hard
guy to pin down, just follow the paparazzi. Seems to me she doesn't
want to be found. Maybe there's more to the story than you know. I
mean, she must have seen all this stuff in the press. If she wanted
to get in touch, she would have."

"Not everyone
reads the papers, Erica. If I can just talk to her, I'll know for
sure. If she says she doesn't want to see Jack, then fine, that's the
end of it." 

"So you are
going?"

"I thought I'd
swing by tomorrow night. Just check it out. What harm can it do?"

"You want me
to come with you? I still think you're crazy, but if you need my
help..."

"I'll be fine,
Erica. Anyway, you've got that thing with Matt, right?"

"Yeah. Dinner
with his aunt sounds way less fun than playing detective at a strip
joint, though."

They both laughed.
Erica pulled Sara into a tight hug, then said goodnight, leaving Sara
alone with her thoughts. What had happened between her and Erica
ought to bother her more, she thought...but somehow it didn't feel
that weird at all. They had always been close. Being intimate had
felt like an extension of that. Sara was more preoccupied with the
thought of finding Laura. She wondered about what Erica had
said...Jack felt immense guilt about what happened to his sister, but
even so, would she really have stayed away for all this time? Could
she possibly have missed everything the media had been saying over
the last few weeks? Sara contemplated just sending Jack the details
of the club, but she would feel stupid if Erica turned out to be
mistaken on the girl's identity. She had to see for herself. 

The next day was
miserable, grey and rainy. Cooped up alone in the apartment, Sara
paced the floor, itching to get going. The club didn't open until 6pm
though, and while she wanted to get there early before it got too
busy, Sara thought waiting at the door might look a bit weird. 

Her thoughts, as
ever, turned to Jack. She pictured him by the pool of some five-star
hotel, sipping a cocktail, oiling up some bimbo with a perky pair of
DDs. Sara sighed. She wondered if he ever thought of her, or even
remembered she existed. If he did, it wasn't enough to make him want
to call, or email, or even text. Erica was right, she knew. She had
to put him out of her mind and try to move forward. Starting
tomorrow, Sara resolved, she would erase Jack Carter from her memory.
She just had this one thing to do first. Sara couldn't help but
relish the idea of Jack's gratitude as she delivered his missing
sister to him. Oh yes, he would see her value then, be beside himself
to thank her, take her for dinner, invite her to his hotel
suite...and she would take great pleasure in politely declining. "No
need, Jack. It was just a favour for a friend. For old time's sake."
Then she would flick her hair and leave, Jack full of regret as he
watched the most amazing girl he had ever met walk away for the last
time. Yes, Sara thought, it would all be extremely satisfying.

***

JACK was thinking
about Sara. As the plane soared over the clouds, the Atlantic ocean
far below them, he gazed out of the window and wished for the
umpteenth time that she was there beside him. The problem with
touring, he thought to himself, was the long periods of time spent in
transit. It gave him way too much time to think. To regret. Once
again, Jack reassured himself that he had made the right decision.
This was no life for a beautiful girl like Sara. Sure, he had money,
could give her all the finest things in life. But he couldn't be
there when she came home from work, with a Chinese takeaway and a
bottle of wine, ready to give her a foot rub and hear about her day.
He would be stuck on a tour bus, or a plane, or buried in the
recording studio. Even when he was there...the sadness inside him
would never loosen its grip. He had watched his father slowly destroy
his mother over the years, taking his misery out on that poor woman
day after day. Jack swore he would never become his father, but some
days, when he took a bleary eyed look in the mirror after a heavy
night on the drink, it was if he saw his father's face staring back
at him. He had already lost his sister. Clearly, Jack thought to
himself, he was not the kind of man that could make a woman happy.
Not for more than one night, anyway. Sara deserved better than that.
She would find someone who was worth it, he was sure of that.
Probably already had, he considered, and the thought of Sara with
someone else gave him almost physical pain. But it's all for the
best, he whispered to himself. 

They would be at
JFK in a few hours, then a cab would drop him at his city apartment.
He'd finally be home, although none of his residences felt like home,
not really. They were houses, comfortable, safe for the most part.
Since the drugs scandal had blown over, there were no longer hordes
of reporters on his doorstep. Requests for interviews were polite,
enthusiastic, and directed through his agent. For the first time in a
while, the media were on his side, and he was enjoying it while it
lasted. Jack was glad that they had a few days off before the
additional US dates. The tour had been amazing, there was no doubt
about it. There were kids in the front row that probably couldn't
remember their first album, a whole new generation of fans who were
downloading Compass' back catalogue, using his face as the background
on their smart phone. They were back on top, and it felt damn good.
If he could just shift that hollow feeling in his chest, Jack thought
to himself, then life would be perfect. But there would always be a
void that fame couldn't fill. Laura. Sara. His lost girls. 

Jack sighed, and
reached into his carry-on for the little bottle of pills his doctor
had given him. Just a little something to help him sleep. To stop him
thinking, at least for a little while. He washed the blue capsule
down with the last of his free First Class champagne and waited for
oblivion.

***

Sara almost missed
the turning, seeing the faded sign only at the last minute. The
dubious looking strip mall also held a nail salon, a liquor store and
a fried chicken joint. The Pussy Parlour occupied the biggest unit,
and the entire front was painted black, with neon signs already
flashing in the dim evening light. Locking the car, Sara felt a
twinge of anxiety. She had never been to one of these places before,
and as much as Erica talked it up, she wasn't sure if she'd be
welcome. Keeping the purpose of her visit in mind, she took a deep
breath and pushed the door open. 

It took a moment
for her eyes to adjust; the inside of the club was so dark, the only
lights coming from the central stage and the candles on the tables.
The place was quiet, but not entirely empty. A group of guys were sat
up close to the stage, barely paying attention to the dark skinned
girl who writhed around a pole inches from their faces. They seemed
more interested in laughing at each others jokes and slapping their
friends on the back than the dancer, who nonetheless seemed to be
giving it her all. There were a couple of other occupied tables at
the back, a guy sat on his own, staring at the stage with glassy
eyes, and a couple engrossed in each other. Sara slid into a corner
table, trying not to draw attention to herself. She planned to buy a
few drinks, be friendly to her waitress, casually mention an old
school friend who used to work here and take it from there. If she
was lucky, Laura might even be working tonight. 

"Can I get you
anything hon?" Sara nearly jumped out of her seat. She'd been so
busy rehearsing her plan, she hadn't noticed the waitress sneak up on
her from behind.  For a second, Sara dared to hope that her
server would be Laura herself, but the curvaceous brunette bore no
resemblance to the photographs. 

"Can I get you
a drink, hon?" she drawled, flashing a row of pearly whites, and
Sara tried to keep her eyes off her generous cleavage as she asked
for a rum and coke. She would need a little dutch courage for the
task ahead.  

"There we go
Darlin'," the waitress bent over to place Sara's drink on the
table, almost falling out of her tight dress in the process.

"Thanks so
much, um..."

"Brandi, and
you're very welcome. Anything else I can do for you?" 

"Actually
Brandi, I was wondering...an old school friend of mine, she used to
work here I think. Her name was Laura something or other. Do you know
if she's still here?"

Brandi narrowed her
eyes, and it was hard to tell if she was suspicious or just thinking.
After a moment, she offered, "Laura....no Lauras here that I can
think of. Mind you, a lot of the girls don't use their own names in
this business, so it's a little hard to tell. My Mom didn't christen
me Brandi, put it that way."  

"I guess that
makes sense. No biggie, just wondering. Thanks for your help."

"Not a problem
sweetheart. You just give me a wave when you need another."