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Chapter Twenty-Five
For some reason the rest of the tour appeared to drag, the days were long and my nights without my wife had felt even longer. I had felt as if the closer we had gotten to the last gig date, the slower the time went.
All I had in my mind was two more performances, and I’d be on the red-eye back to New York and home by lunchtime at the latest. On Thursday we hit a run of bad luck when our tour bus hit a discarded fender and blew a tire, fortunately our last two gigs were Friday and Saturday, but the three-hour delay because a wheel was stuck fast grated on my last nerve.
The searing heat made us all cranky, and we bitched relentlessly at one another until eventually help arrived. Not only did the driver look embarrassed, we almost lynched him when all that was necessary was a single squirt from a can of WD-40 to free the damned thing.
“Hey, darlin’, how’s your day going?”
“It’s going,” she replied, softly and sighed. “Three more days,” she added, sounding wistful. She had really missed me.
“By this time on Sunday, I’ll have had you flat on your back and we’ll be eating lunch.”
“Remember Colby comes back at 5:00 p.m.,” she said, like I needed reminding when in my head I was wondering how I’d squeeze in all I wanted to do to her by the time he came home.
“Aren’t you supposed to be traveling today?”
“Yeah, bus wheel is busted. We’re waiting for someone to find the inspiration to get the locking lug nut off.”
“Sounds like a joke. How many band members does it take to mend a busted nut?” she offered, and I chuckled.
“Okay as we have nothing better to do, I think today is naughty pictures day.”
“Sawyer, I’m working, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Makes it all the naughtier. Get your phone, open your legs and take a picture. I want to see what color panties you are wearing.”
“Nope.”
“Yes, Billie, we agreed, remember? Just keeping our romance alive.”
She snickered into the phone and lowered her voice. “I can’t, you’re talking to me on my cell—” Click. I cut the call and chuckled as I wondered if she would do as I asked. Less than five seconds later I had a text alert.
My heart skipped a beat as I opened the picture text and saw a tiny white triangle of material between two milk colored thighs. Immediately I had another text.
Billie: enjoy…your turn.
Grabbing a banana from a fruit bowl on top of the fridge, I went into the bedroom dropped my jeans and laid it beside my cock. Snapping a selfie, I checked it out and chuckled, before I sent it over to my wife.
Me: Which one is your favorite fruit?
We continued with various items we found close at hand, and I had no idea my wife could be so creative with some of the ideas she came up with. However, the funniest one had to be when she had taken off her small triangular thong and punched holes in her panties.
Billie: Peep holes.
For a few minutes I lacked inspiration, until I saw a couple of Sharpies on the nightstand and smirked as I drew two black eyes on the end of my dick and then smirked as I trapped it in the top of my briefs. I sent the image and followed with the text.
Me: Peek-a-boo
When I heard a strange voice I knew a mechanic had arrived, and knowing they’d be lifting the bus to take off the wheel, I pulled up my jeans and went out to see what was happening. There was no response from Billie and I figured she must have gotten busy.
It only took minutes to get the wheel off and fix it, but it was almost 3:00 p.m. by the time we finally set off from San Diego for the penultimate destination of Phoenix, Arizona.
I found the six-hour journey tedious in the extreme, but I’d looked forward to calling Billie and Colby once they had gotten home from Colby’s baseball practice.
The clock appeared to stand still until I lay on my bed and put my earbuds in. We’d made a playlist of our favorite songs and as I lay listening to Billie’s favorites from Sam Smith and James Blunt, although they weren’t exactly my kind of music, their dulcet tones helped me drift off to sleep.
Waking shortly before 7:00 p.m. as if I had some internal alarm clock, I crawled off my bed, hit the fridge for a bottle of water, and informed the guys I was making a call home. Although I had spoken to Colby regularly, Thursdays were the one evening each week when I focused the call mainly on him. It was Little League day and we always dissected the practice and what he’d learned.
