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Double Switch
Book One, The Origin of Gabrielle Dolly, TATAS
Chapter Sex
The Spring Mixer Flashback
Dolly leaned her head on Drummond's left shoulder and listened to the renewed conversations around the table, sampling bits of it as it swirled around her. Drummond pasted a thoughtful expression on his face and drifted into a nostalgic reverie of a sunny March afternoon.
They'd only been lovers for a little over a week. It had been less than a full month since the first anniversary of her Genesis storm and the hailstorm of violence that followed on its heels. Drummond still had trouble wrapping his head around the idea that Dolly had lived ten years in that time.
In time since she'd emerged from cover, she'd had her heart cruelly wrenched by a thoughtless warrior princess dolly, almost been raped by a half-mad Thaumaturge, experienced an epic hangover, been arrested for assault with a deadly weapon and bought her way out, and surrendered her virginity to the one person in all the world who, she now believed, truly loved her.
He'd had his whole world turned upside down, seen his offerings of friendship rebuffed, helped her make the Leap to true life and humanity, thought her dead and gone, suffered from a distance as he helplessly watched her brief dissolute period, been slashed by her in a violent rage, and been utterly thunderstruck when she offered herself to him and then again to discover that — after all that — she was still a virgin.
Her fierce joy in life, her eagerness to leap headfirst into the oncoming wave, to smear its essence all over her body and soul, to share the experience — with him — had renewed his own joie de vivre.
For all the wide gap of years between them, it was as though they were of an age — or an agelessness — and had been fated to be joined. More than the delightful fit of their bodies, of their experience of each other, was the seamless mating of their minds. They loved and appreciated and were curious about all the same things. He had never known another human being who was so simpatico with him. In the true meaning of the word sympathy, they felt together.
To mark the coincidence of the vernal equinox and the end of the quarter, the Center had mounted a massive weekend of entertainments that encompassed the entire campus. As the centerpiece of the weekend, a series of concerts was staged at campus venues. The main event occurred Saturday afternoon at the new Warrior Field and consisted of an all-day concert featuring some big name performers.
Drummond played a pivotal role making the arrangements, but on the day of the show, he had little to do but sit back and enjoy it.
To get an early start, they'd stayed at a hotel in Columbus. They rose and showered early, planning to get to the stadium well before the crowds.
When Dolly stepped out of the bedroom, she took the waiting Drummond's breath away. Told to dress practically, (it was her first rock concert ever), she instead decided to dress with an eye toward enticement in a white silk blouse and a silver lamé miniskirt that was almost a wide belt. Her red-gold mane fell loose to her shoulders, her legs — their they-go-all-the-way-up-ness accentuated by the brevity of her skirt — were bare, her feet tucked into dainty white sandals.
Drummond sucked air and made all the right noises of appreciation, then had to kiss her as well to ensure she knew how beautiful she was. Then she improved on it, (in his opinion), by unbuttoning the blouse to her navel before she threw on a short, light jacket of the same material as the skirt.
"If that outfit doesn't scream, 'fuck me', I don't know what does," he said with a kidding leer.
"Good. 'Cause that's what I want it to say. Just as long as it's you that it's saying it to."
"Babe, it says it to anybody with the eyes to see and the gonads to want you. It may be the latest thing, made by high-tech manufacturing, but it speaks to a very primitive urge."
"Good! I think I'm getting the hang of this clothing thing."
Drummond just grinned and shook his head. "Don't ever change, Dolly." He took her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, making free with his hands to encourage her that way, too.
"What time did you say you wanted to get to the venue?" she asked hoarsely.
"Better stop, huh?"
She pouted. "This outfit isn't talking very loud."
"Later, darling. Sex isn't everything in life, you know."
"It's not? What else is there?" She grinned up at him.
"Hmm. Good question. I'll let you know if I ever figure it out."
When they got to the stadium, Drummond squired Dolly around the empty venue, showing her all the intricate workings of a modern rock concert, explaining the massive amount of equipment required to stage the event, and the complex logistics necessary to make sure it was all in the right place at the right time. He showed Dolly how to wear her pass and warned her to protect it when she went into the crowd, to take it off when she was away from secured areas.
Then they had climbed to the roof of the sound mix tower, half the field away from the stage, in the middle of what would be a crowded melee in a very short time. There was a seat there made from the middle bench out of an old VW microbus. A cooler of iced drinks and another of picnic food stood behind the couch in easy reach.
Drummond had ordered the place set up and that he was to have exclusive access, going so far as to station a TAT Troll at the bottom of the steps up from the mix platform to enforce the order. The rest of the Center staff and administration had possibly better seats, (the lighting truss blocked much of the view of the stage from the top of the sound mix), but he and Dolly were as private in their little aerie as they could be in the middle of sixty thousand people.
They sat and talked as the crowd trickled into the stadium. A gentle breeze — surprisingly balmy considering how late the winter stayed this year — blew across them, teasing her hair. The sunlight was warm, but not overly so. He reached out an arm and pulled her to him. She snuggled up against him, her legs curled under her, one arm wrapped across his body.
Then the music started. The raw power of it startled her, but she quickly acclimated to it, reveling in the rumble of the bass in her chest, the way the churning rhythms stirred feelings inside of her. She shrieked with delight and danced like the wild child she was, her face illuminated with fierce joy. Drummond tried to dance with her for a few awkward steps, but gave it up, drinking in the sight of her as she writhed in the clutches of the music. After a couple of songs, she plopped down, breathless, and snuggled up against him.
"Wow!" was all she could say for quite a while.
Once the novelty wore off, she started watching the crowd. Their antics displayed endless variety, and her native curiosity made her take it all in and assimilate it. At one juncture, she pointed and asked, "What are they doing?"
Drummond peered down into the crowd, following Dolly's finger. About fifteen rows back from the stage, a line of girls were perched on their boyfriends' shoulders. Every once in awhile, one of them would lift her shirt and pump her fist in the air.
"They're flashing their tits at the band."
"Oo! Neat!" she said, seeing only the friendly gesture and not understanding all the cultural baggage that went with it. "Can I do that?"
Drummond thought to forbid it, but realized it wasn't his place to do so, nor could he deny Dolly anything.
"Sure, if you don't mind everybody in the stadium staring at you... and wanting to fuck you... 'cause, trust me, they will. I'd bet you have the nicest tits in the place."
"Oh, you say the sweetest things," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm gonna do it."
She scrambled to her feet. Shucking her jacket and taking a hipshot stance at the edge of the platform, she pulled the edges of her blouse wide and proudly thrust her breasts into the afternoon sunlight.
The reaction to her was as Drummond had predicted. Once she was spotted, a shout went up that momentarily overwhelmed the music. The guitar player spotted Dolly on the sound mix and pointed, playing an impromptu lick in tribute. Dolly danced on the edge of the platform for the rest of the song, making enticing gestures with her hands — even cupping her lush breasts in her hands — and putting Drummond's heart in his mouth, she was so close to the edge. Then she turned and, with a little tail shimmy of her hips, she strutted back across the platform to collapse into Drummond's lap.
"That was fun," she said, not bothering to close her blouse up again. She reached up and pulled his head down and kissed him with fevered ardor. "Mitch," she said, her breath coming hard, "I want you inside me."
"Sure," he said affably, "As soon as we get back to the hotel, we can spend the whole evening..."
"No. I have to do that concert tonight at the gym. I want you here. Now." Suiting actions to her words, she reached up under her skirt and hooked her thumb into the waistband of her white cotton panties. She peeled them down her legs like she'd been a backseat girl all her life. Then she knelt on the van seat, straddling his legs, and started undoing his belt buckle.
"Dolly, there are probably thirty thousand people who can see us right now."
"And your point is...?"
For a second there, he really though he had a point, but then she crushed her body up against his, her lips on his mouth, squirming her naked torso against him in that way that she knew drove him crazy, and he realized that resistance was futile.
"Oh, Dolly, you are corrupting me. It's so bad for me." She proved that she didn't believe a word of it.
He was, of course, aroused by her display and their afternoon of intermitted necking, so she had little trouble freeing him from his jeans. She was, of course, quite wet, her display having suited the purpose of arousing her as well. They slid together, and Dolly sealed the match up with a little bounce and a kiss.
"How many people did you say are watching?" she asked. He started to turn his head sideways to look, but she blocked him with a hand. "Thirty thousand, right?" He nodded. "Wrong. There's nobody here but me. And I'm going to fuck your brains out." Which she proceeded to do. Later, the sound engineer swore he could hear her screaming climax over the music, picked up by microphones on the stage.
#
Dolly poked him in the ribs, bringing him back to the present. "Hey!" she said softly. "Terry's here. We're about to get started. Where were you?"
"I was thinking about the Spring Mixer concert."
"Hmm." Her green eyes lit up with the memory of the afternoon. "Care for a rematch?"
"Nah," he said, leaning over to kiss her. "I have a better idea."
"Whazzat?"
"I'll tell you later."
"Tease!" she hissed and smacked him on the shoulder.
Terry tapped her gavel on the table. "Could I have your attention, please? This meeting is called to order."
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