Ohio (2nd installment of 4 parts)

During her solo Cheryl stood at stage left front and could clearly see the faces of the audience in the first several rows. She thought for a moment she was hallucinating when she again noticed a boy, Georgie’s age, build, hair color and those same warm, thoughtful eyes, in the front row, staring directly into hers. In those eyes she experienced some sort of strange connection. Her first thought was “God—everywhere I look—another Georgie.” She realized he looked almost exactly like the jeep driver she had seen yesterday—yet she hadn’t the slightest attraction to the other guy—very unlike her reaction to this boy. She spotted several critical differences. This guy was wearing a silly, bright yellow sweater—it was the first thing that caught her eye—Georgie never wore yellow. This guy parted his hair on the left, rather than right and there was an adorable curl to his hair that Cheryl rather liked—it flashed through her mind she wished Georgie’s hair was curly.

When she finished her solo, the Georgie look-something-alike boy applauded the longest and loudest. After the show, because the audience was small and enthusiastic, most of the band members went out into the lobby to chat with fans and sign autographs. Normally Cheryl wouldn’t have but this time she was hoping to meet the boy with the curly hair—and she did.

It was as though she already knew him—in some strange sense she felt she did. After a few moments of initial, banal chatter, the boy, whose name was Kevin and a student at the Stark campus of the Ohio University System, tugged at Cheryl to move away from the crowd down a hall toward a conference room area. Cheryl let herself be led into a corridor of dim, recessed ambient lighting—she could tell he had done this with other girls. The more time she spent with him the less he reminded her of Georgie though his eyes continued to have the same haunting warmth and charm. With the rustle and murmur of the crowd at a comforting distance, she took his right hand in hers, pressed it against her cheek, looked directly into up his eyes and slightly parted her lips.

With a sensual confidence that seemed to flutter between gentle control and innocent romantic wonderment, he took both her hands in his, kissed her fingers then pressed his lips to hers, immediately bringing his tongue into her mouth.

Cheryl involuntarily quivered, clutching him as much in passion as the need to steady herself against the spinning of the room. With soft moans and catches of breath she subtly encouraged him to explore her body with his hands.

He suddenly stopped and softly suggested they go to her room—it somehow sounded like both a respectful request and a command. Cheryl said nothing, but took his hand and wordlessly led him the several hundred yards across the parking lot to the hotel. As they left the building she caught a glimpse of a distant Graham Nash watching them with a gentle if sad, smile.

In her room, the two of them, naked in street lamp light filtering through the window, devoured each other. The last man she had made love with was Georgie over 2 years before—her lust was endless, savage and outside her control. Cheryl lost count of the orgasms, eventually passing out, exhausted. She felt as though her insides were reduced to slumbering jelly.

The two lovers woke during the night and chatted. Cheryl told him about the soldier he so resembled. “Hah,” he laughed—“that’s my brother—I didn’t know A Company had been sent here.” Kevin went on to tell Cheryl he was an ROTC student himself and was considering the Army as a career. Kevin also remarked how he had not been simply attracted to her as he would to any attractive girl but felt some sort of mystical connection. Cheryl could tell Kevin was not used to making these sorts of comments—she suspected he did not believe in mysticism—but felt certain he was being absolutely honest.

End 2nd installment

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