Disclaimer: KISS, Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons are real persons, and this story is not meant to harm or demean them in any manner. It is a work of fiction. Trynia Merin and other characters are property of the author. Rated R for sexual content and language, so no readers under 18 please.

They had reached the Pennsylvania boarder, and Paul thought it would be good to remind her of where he was headed that weekend.

"You did hear me say I need to go back to LA this weekend, didn't you, love?" he reiterated. "If you think you can clean up your affairs here, I'd love for you to go back with me."

"I guess that's where I'll be going too. I don't think I could stand being in that lab a minute longer," she sighed. "I started working on my letter of resignation of the fellowship..."

"Because.... Well...if the news isn't good, there's a possibility, I guess that we won't be coming back. I hope to God he gives me some time to schedule the damn thing, but the last time I saw this guy, he had me in surgery for my shoulder the very next day."

"And I will talk to my advisor tomorrow about transferring," she said. "And possibly taking a semester off and resuming the studies at a school in LA..."

"I'm glad if you are, hon. I'm sorry it didn't work out, but I'm glad you didn't let him step on you."

"Yes, so am I. Thank you for giving me the courage to stand up to him," she said clearly, taking his hand.

"Awwwww, I didn't do anything. It's easy to sit behind the scenes and offer advice. You did the hard part."

"Yes... I did, didn't I?" she said. "When I first told my parents, they weren't crazy about this..."

"Hell, yeah."

"But then when they heard about that jerk..." she continued. "And that I was going to transfer to another school they were okay."

"No, I'm sure they weren't. I'm still not exactly sure your dad is turning cartwheels over me."

"Well, he's warming up to you, I mean he paid for dinner. That's a good sign. He was downright friendly compared to my last guy, Kevin Barnsall. He did this coughing thing the first time he met him..."

"He's a friendly guy, I don't doubt that. I enjoyed talking to him, once he put down the spotlight."

"Yeah... but that's my dad the Doctor... with the exam..." she laughed.

"And I see a lot of him in you. His tenacity."

"True..."

"My mom, though I'm not much like her..." she flushed.

"But peppered with softness, like your mom," he said softly, reaching over to caress her cheek with the back of her hand. Sighing, she caressed his hand with her lips. "He asked a lot of questions about whether or not you would be taken care of financially. Hon, you aren't concerned about that, are you?"

"Not in the least."

"Oh. Good. I just thought that since he brought it up, maybe you had expressed some concern to them."

"He ALWAYS asks that," she groaned. "To his daughters boyfriends. That's' part of his 'you'd better take care of my little girl' schtick."

"Aha, so that's it. I just wanted you to know...it's nothing you need to worry about."

"Well... yes..."

"God, that sounded condescending. I didn't mean it THAT way. " He groaned. "I don't intend to hide our finances from you. I surely don't want that."

"Well it's sweet of you to want to take care of me," she laughed.

"It's just that I want you to feel safe, and that you know that you will have a comfortable life."

"I am lucky... damn lucky..." Trynia nodded. "But it feels WIERD not to have to worry about money... I mean what will I DO?"

"Well, that's up to you. If we go out on the road again, I guess the routine would be, we wake up, sex, lunch somewhere, shopping with Terri, pre-show sex, then the show, then post-show sex. Then we go back to the hotel, and there's the pre-slumber sex," Paul teased, and laughed wickedly.

"Oh lord listen to you," she laughed. "I'm gonna be one busy woman!"

"Seriously, Tryn, it's whatever you want to do," Paul assured her.

"For a while, Terri even worked on the road crew. If you're bored to tears, I can always find you something. You could do more writing. Do some sketches. It's up to you."

"I would love to keep painting, and possibly writing, and amusing you. But housekeeping and cleaning are not my fortes."

"I'm thinking you already KNOW the way to keep little old me happy. Cooking and cleaning --- we can get a maid to do that. But it might be fun if you took some exotic cooking classes. LA is chock-full of classes for the taking."

"But I would like to have some measure of responsibility for the home, As a wife would do...." she began, then groaned. "Lord did I say that?"

"Yes, you did say that, and again, too damn bad I don't have that recorder."

"I'm going to make an honest woman out of you yet, Ms. Trynia Merin."

"Good," she nodded. "Or my dad will KILL you. Someone's got to keep track of that nice house of yours... And give it a woman's touch."

"Chris called me the other day, on that note. It turns out his wife is looking for some part time work, and he was wondering if we had anything available. You might want to think about that some, sweetie. Maybe there's something around the house she could do, or maybe she could even help you get all your reference letters and such in order."

"Oh yes! I would love to have someone to help get my papers organized. Or help me learn to get my life organized."

"Because Chris has been a loyal guy for me. I'd love to be able to help them out."

"That would be a great way," she nodded.

"Perfect! I'll call him tomorrow and let him know. I'll tell him you'll call Gina in a week or two to set something up."

"Great. She can help me get my research papers organized... For starters... and my library..."

"She's a bit on the shy side, but she seems very organized from what I can tell."

"All the better."

"Plus," he grins evilly, "She calls me Sir. I kind of like that."

"I could call you Sir... in bed," she winked.

At this, Paul made a growling sound and grinned. Leaning over she purred into his ear, rubbing his shoulder.

"You, my dear, are feisty tonight, and I just may have to teach you a lesson."

"Well... I don't know sir..." she pretended to be

"Hey, wait a minute! Where did my sex kitten go?"

"What are your qualifications?" she asked. "Are you a properly trained teaching assistant, or a real professor?"

"Hmmm. Well, let's see. Your references appear to be in order.... I am the King of All He Sees" he laughs. "And miss, I believe I DO have some part time work for you...."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asks. "That's not an academic title mister.

He put his hand between her thighs, "Only THESE are what I'd like you to be parting."

"You're gonna be on probation for that sucker!" she wagged her finger at him as they pulled into the driveway of their home. Paul turned off the ignition, and left the heater and stereo running.

"Huh. Your academic history is quite pleasing to me. As is.... Well...this," he continued, sliding his finger teasingly down her breast. "Our benefits here at Stanley Sprockets are quite competitive."

"As long as it isn't Cogswell cogs, I don't care if you're George Jetson..."

"Our first requirement is that you paste the owner's picture on your lovely chest...right about here.... OH! I see you've come prepared."

"Hmm 3 hours of sheer hell," Trynia smiled, once he had pushed her jacket off to reveal her strapless evening gown. "Does that qualify as the first question?"

"I would say, baby, that you've aced that test," he purred, leaning down and licking her tattoo lightly.

"Mmm," she groaned, arching her neck.

He raised an eyebrow, scolding, "I will TRY to forgive you for comparing me to George Jetson as I'm trying to make my move."

"Hey, he had an attractive and intelligent wife as I recall..."

"Not NEARLY as attractive as mine, " he breathed in her ear.

"hmmm," she whispered. "Flattery will get you everywhere..."

"Yes, it will and let the record show you are making me work DAMN hard for it tonight."

Leaning over she slipped her hands underneath the suspenders he wore over the crisp white shirt. Playfully, she snapped one.

Paul grinned and snapped her bra strap from behind, "Hmmm. Paybacks are HELL, little lady!"

'Yikes!" she laughed.

"You going to clue me in? Which lacy number did you choose for me tonight? Back hooking or front hooking?"

Trynia reached down to playfully attempt to open the door. There came a resounding click of the electronic car lock, which sealed off her route.

"Hey, you forget. Child safety locks."

"You bum!" she groans.

"Now, back to the mystery at hand. Which little number did you choose for me tonight, love?:

"Why don't you find out, Mr. know it all?"

"Let's see. I'm in the mood for the black lacey number, with the see through material." He considered, rubbing his chin. "But alas, I fear you wouldn't wear that one for a night out with mom and dad."

"Well... you never know..."

"MMMMMMMMM," he muttered, feeling down her back. "I'm venturing to say it's the dark green one, with the hooks that are a pain in the ass to open."

"You torture me," she laughed, at the feel of his long guitarist fingers probing her dress. "Your hypothesis is intriguing."

He kissed her neck, teasing, "Or possibly it's the little white angel-girl one that screams "I'm a virgin".

"Oh shut up," she groaned and laughs. "And I suppose you're wearing underoos? With Superman on them?"

"I have on a special treat for you tonight, sweets." He chuckled.

"do I have to guess the flavor?" she asked.

"Oh, damn", he groaned, tugging down the front of her gown. "It's that green one."

"I love the green one!" she pouted. "It supports me very nicely, as a certain gentleman friend claims!"

"Hold on. Let me get my wire cutters." he teased.

"Don't you DARE! This cost me 40 dollars! At Frederick's of Hollywood!"

"I love it too, beautiful, but it's the lingerie equivalent of a chastity belt. The damn thing won't OPEN!" he pouted, struggling to reach around and undo the clasps.

"Oh boo hoo, are you not up to the challenge? Like these are any easier?" she asked, tugging the suspenders.

"Ohhhhhhhh, she doth question my manhood. Hark."

"They've got the BUTTONS!"

"For you, lover, I can be undressed in 5 minutes flat."

"Oh really?"

"MmmmmmHmmmmmm."

"So, you going to make me enter the Valley of Green Death all alone?" he asked, with a mock pout.

"Oh knock it off!" she groaned.

He slipped his hand behind her back and slowly jerked on her zipper.

"Here I go. No back up. All alone. If I don't come back alive, tell mom I loved her." he sniffed mockingly as he teases the back of her bra.

"Damn it!"

Trynia turned around in her seat with her back to him. He used both hands to probe and fumble, pushing her dress down further and further to her waist.

"As God is my witness, I don't know how the hell they designed this thing," he muttered. "Your next bra is going to be Velcro."

Reaching up from behind she easily pushed his hands aside and undid the four hooks. It fell away, and Paul snared it from her, draping it around his neck like a scarf. She grabbed at the suspenders and slipped them down his arms.

"Tryn......before you knew me, did you ever fantasize about throwing your bra on stage to me?"

"Ack, collar buttons?" she asks, fumbling at his shirt to unbutton it.

"Yes... I did..."

"Well, we'll pretend that you just did that and that I caught it."

As her hands parted his shirt, he rolled his head back, feeling desire for her spread over him like a comfortable blanket. She chuckled,

"well... I wonder what he might think of the lady who owned it..."

"I would think she was a dream. I'd definitely want to see more, " he moaned, glad to be freed from the stiff shirt she tugged out of the waist of his pants. He threw it to the back of the car, and she tugged on his white undershirt now. Trynia loved the smell of the fabric

softener mingled with his cologne

"Huh. Now if I were REALLY on stage, I'd be doing this my self and grousing about how HAHT it was getting tonight."

"Hmmm I love making it easier for you..." she laughed. "And I love the way you smell..."

"You do?" he grins. "Terri told me once this was your favorite cologne."

"English leather. It's wonderful... and so is its wearer."

"Terri's a wealth of information" he moaned a bit.

"And what are you a wealth of?' she asked. Paul licked her neck, nibbling it lightly. She traced kisses down his marvelous hairy chest.

He pushed her dress down to the floor of the car, and she let him tug it out from under her.

"Well, I can tell you that there's someone down below who would just LOVE to show you."

"Aha", he sighed as the seat leaned back. "This is always a good sign."

Now in her underwear and slip, she leaned over him. He snapped the elastic band, whispering for her to take it off. Shimmying out of it, she let him pull her into his lap.

"My hypothesis is as follows: If you chose the green bra from hell tonight, you ALSO chose the yummy green panties that go with it." He laughed, stroking her underwear now.

"So... what is your theory?" she breathed, shifting on his lap as she kissed his ear. "Is the fact supporting of it?"

He turned on the car light and inspected, purring, "Ohhhhhhhh, I think the results are very conclusive."

Trynia loved the feel of his body under hers, so strong and firm. Up and down her arms and body, he massaged soothingly. Teasingly slow.

Grasping his face between her hands, she kissed him passionately. Her chest she rubbed against his. He clamped down slightly on her tongue as she slipped it in his mouth and sucked on it softly.

The action stopped her, and control passed again to him. He took her hand and puts it on the fastenings of his pants. She reached under herself, still sitting on his lap.

He whispered in her ear, practically panting, "Ms. Merin, if you don't touch me soon, I'm quite afraid I shall spontaneously combust."

"we can't have that, can we?" she asked, undoing the zipper slowly.

Biting her ear lobe, he whispered, "And THEN how will you get out of this car?"

"What the heck is this?" she asked, feeling into his pants and noticing that they were quite different then before.

"Huh.....what's that love?" he cocked an eyebrow at her. "Why don't you take a closer look?"

She shifted off his lap to sit down on the other seat again. Reaching up she turned on the car light once more.

"Good grief," she laughed. "Talk about Animalize!"

"They're new. They even have animal prints on them. And they're thong, just as you like them."

"I'm gonna borrow these babies," she laughs.

He laughed, "So here I sit, with no shirt and a nice sexy thong for my lady. Makes me feel like I need to put Crazy Nights on."

"You are sometimes very cheesy," she groaned, laughing so hard her eyes are tearing up.

"Take them now, darling. They're....uh....sort of in the way," he urged, nuzzling her.

"Hell your PANTS are in the damn way!"

"But I've got charm. Five minutes, remember?" he winked, then shimmied quickly out of them as he lifted his hips a bit.

"Good grief! you're not shitting me!"

"Look, sweetheart, you will be amazed. I'll fill you in on a little secret...."

"Uh... what?"

"This here....this little strap on the thong?" he said, pushing his thumb under the one side and lifting it. "It snaps off and so does the other one. No hassle service."

"Good grief," she laughed. "you must have gotten hold of Terri's underwear catalogue! Or Gene's..."

He blushed this time, and chuckled, "If you REALLY want to know the truth, Terri and Gene stuffed a whole box of these in my guitar case the day after we announced our 'engagement'."

"I guess it was their attempt at ensuring our happy life together."

"Yep," he continued, kissing her neck, and sliding down to her chest. "They make their debut tonight. Just in time for mom and dad."

"Are there any with little atom symbols on them?"

"No, lover, I'm afraid it's all animals. Take your pick," he shook his head. "Zebra...snake....tiger....leopard..."

"Well if it was Dinosaurs you'd be extinct, Mr. Wlld!" she joked. He seized her breast in his mouth and nibbled on it. She groaned, snaring his hair in her fingers.

"Well, let's just say, I've got a T-rex down here somewhere with YOUR name on it."

"Or else a continental divider?" she chuckled.

"Ohhhhhhhh, yes. God, I love when you talk dirty". He groaned.

Answering it, she reached under herself to stroke him through the fabric. Her fingers explored the fastenings on the thong. He rubbed between her legs through the silky fabric of her panties.

"Tryn, it really bothers me to think that we won't be able to do this for awhile. It's totally f**cking unfair."

"Oh honey... I'm sorry," she sighed, holding his head close to her chest. He grew silent for awhile.

"I just hope I won't become a giant pain in the ass."

"Is that why you have been putting it off?" she asked him. "For real?"

He stroked her hair for a bit and sighed, "In case you haven't noticed, I don't care for not being in control of my destiny. It bugs the hell out of me."

"Paul, your destiny brought me to you.. and I have less of a grasp on my own then you do now on yours..."

"I know. It's just that......I'm sort of afraid that after you spend months cleaning up after me and emptying bedpans, that maybe....maybe....you'll have less respect for me as a man."

"Aww jeez," she sighed.

"Ok....whew....there it is," he sighed. "It's out."

"Look, you have worked So hard to take care of me... You're the best man I've known... Apart from my father and brothers..."

"I know, but can you tell me that taking care of me like some kind of newborn baby isn't possibly going to effect the way you feel about me sexually?"

"It makes you even more sexy in some ways..."

"Damn. I'm overanalyzing too much, aren't I?"

"I'm the master then, and you're the slave..." she purred.

"Yeah, but Tryn, not in a romantic way. In kind of a demeaning way. I'm just going to feel like a first class heel asking you to come help me to the bathroom."

"It doesn't make you any less of a man in my eyes..." Trynia told him.

"That's what I'm hoping for. You're a sweetheart, you know."

"I want to help you... but I know you're a proud man..." Trynia kissed him softly. "And for that pride I love you all the more. I don't want to do anything that will hurt or compromise that pride."

He chuckled a bit, "Just so you can prepare, I'll probably be patient from hell. But when I'm better.....I'll make it up to you...every bit of it."

"Yes, I know I'm counting on it..."

"Now, where we were we? Oh yes, these underwear were bugging the hell out of me." he muttered, and tugged at her underwear. "You know what your dad is probably thinking right now ---- 'Just don't screw my daughter in the car on the way home"."

"Oh please don't mention the p words..." she warned him.

"Wonder what he'd say about his good little girl right now? He called you that, you know. About bit my damn tongue off" he continues to tease her with his fingers.

"Paul.. PLEASE don't' talk about my parents..." she begged. "I can't..... Focus on this if I am thinking of them..."

"Well, that's interesting because your dad mentioned something about your profound tenacity and ability to focus on the task at hand." he teases her.

"Paul... please... I can't have sex and think of my parents..."

He hummed, "Hmm. Is that begging I hear?"

"Yes," she says. "Whatever you call it..."

"Well, if I were Gene, I'd make you do something to get me to stop, but since I'm nice guy Paul, I'll quit, sweetie"

"Paul..." she said, shifting backwards a bit. As she struggled to get up, she put pressure on one side of his hip.

"Damn... owww," he groaned, stifling the call of pain that wracked him that moment. She quickly leapt off his lap, and moved over to her seat.

"Oh god! I didn't' mean to spoil it for you," she gasped. "AER you all right."

"I think... damn... it's just a spasm honey it'll just go away... but why did you get all freaked? I was only joking!" he asked, looking at her wide-eyed.

"I just... every time I've had sex and someone brings up my parents, it kills the mood."

"Lesson learned the hard way. Sorry, love," he sighed.

"And I hurt you..."

"Shit, Hon, this is the first time I've....." he groaned, rubbing his offending hip. "Damn it!!!"

"I'm sorry... ok? I didn't mean to bring up something stupid like that..."

"......I can't believe.... my goddamned...." he shook his head, sitting there in disbelief at the timing of his injury. And because of that, his ardor had cooled considerably, like a sluice of freezing water.

"Paul..."

"Just give me a minute," he protested, holding up his hand. "Damn... I just can't... and now I've lost it..."

Exhaling quickly, he glared out the window. Trynia leaned down and rescued her dress, slipping it over her head and shoulders again. Paul said nothing, just reaching down to retrieve his pants. Embarrassment spread over him in a wave, and he slammed his hand against the window in anger, making the car shake. He shoved open the door, and thrust his feet into his shoes. Silently he grabbed his jacket and shirt, slipping them on. He paced the driveway, still shaking his head.

Meanwhile Trynia bit her arm, struggling not to cry. She buried her head in her hands for a moment, feeling the tears burn. A separation had crashed down between them that stabbed right into her stomach, followed by anger. She focussed on the anger, grabbing her purse and retrieving the car keys he had left into the ignition. Face flaming with embarrassment she got out of the car, and walked straight past Paul into the house, without even stopping to tell him where she was going.

Still wrapped up in his anger, Paul remained outside, and glanced at the door that she had left open. Sighing, he walked back toward the house with his hands thrust into his pockets. Every step he cursed the aching hip that was starting to protest through the haze of the painkiller that was wearing off. Of course it wasn't her fault, he should have stopped teasing her when she told him not to, or taken a clue when she had retreated from him. Yet that awkward position in the car had brought this upon himself.

He heard the sounds of someone rustling clothes. However when he stormed up into the bedroom he found it empty of her, the dress thrown down and the dresser drawer flung open to where she kept her art clothes.

Trynia had heard Paul enter, and she had rushed in before he could, determined to work out her anger in a way that did not involve merely sitting and crying. Grabbing a t-shirt and jeans she rushed up to her studio on the third floor as soon as she heard his footsteps on the stairs below.

Keeping the door open she heard the strange strumming of an acoustic guitar from the music room drifting up to her. She grabbed a canvas from the art closet that she had stretched before, one the height and breadth of a landscape, and fixed it into place on her aisle. Paints she grabbed and started to work with, but realized for this she had forgotten primer. No, this canvas needed something more quick drying then oils. She hunted through a few cans of acrylic, fast drying, and grabbed a large paintbrush. Dipping it into the crimson she slammed one stroke against the white. Another paintbrush she grabbed and stabbed it into the blue.

Red, blue, red blue she flung, with violent strokes that ever increased. Discordant and jangling on white like the chords she now heard Paul producing. When at last there came a shout, and a loud thump against the ceiling, she paused, panting. Had he actually thrown his guitar.

"Of all the stupid, dumb-ass stunts you've pulled Trynia, that was the stupidest! Why didn't you just keep your fucking mouth shut or tell him you were creeped out about the parent bit right out!" she yelled at the canvas.

"Stupid male pride... he probably is blaming me for loosing his excitement now!' she added, jabbing her left brush, charged with blue at the canvas again. The force of her next swipe catapulted the canvas over. It crashed against the floor, and she hurled both brushes at it in anger.

"God DAMN IT!" she yelled. "What the HELL is his problem! WHAT the hell is MY problem!"

Angrily she kicked the can of red paint, and sent it flying with more force then she thought. It landed against the upset canvas, splattering all over the hardwood floor and the red and blue strokes.

"Shit," she sighed. "He's probably sulking like some kid, expecting me to come in after him. Well I WON'T do it! I WON'T!!!"

Whirling around she glared at the canvas again, and noticed the splatter. She leaned down to mop up the paint with a rag, and then got a flash of inspiration. Unscrewing the canvas from the aisle, she lay it down on the floor to mop up the acrylic. It left a huge red circle intersected by the strokes underneath. She dabbed thinner over the stain, trying to wipe the remnants off. Hot tears dripped down her cheeks as she continued to rub the floor clean.

From downstairs she heard more footsteps, and Paul's voice distinctly shouting, "Damn it Paul!"

It was followed by a twanging thump which must be the guitar being thrown into its case, and the sound of a door opening and closing. More thumps told her he was pacing or possibly walking into the bedroom.

"Now I've really done it," she snarled at the paint stains. "I've hurt him by being a damn pest, and he's going to sulk all damn night. I just HAD to be a bitch and nag him. Why the hell can't I say anything right? Why?"

Her voice increased in volume. Hands still covered in paint she stroked them down the canvas, letting her tears fall and mingle with them. "What is GOING ON Here that I don't know about?" she yelled at the inanimante mess of red and blue. "I ASK YOU! WHAT!"

Sobbing she finally broke down. Her strokes became more slow and deliberate, working her anger into swirls as red and blue became a deep purple. The two colors blended into one mishmash of her favorite shade. It slowly calmed her.

She heard his footsteps on the stairs, and a knock at the door. At first she did not even want to answer it, or the call of her name.

"Trynia....."

Trynia drew up her knees and huddled on the floor by her canvas, feeling foolish. Again his voice beckoned, "Can I.....come in?"

"If you... want to..." she answered, wiping her hands on the old t-shirt.

"Yeah, I think I'd better."

Slowly she rose, and crossed the hardwood floor. It creaked in protest, and unlocked the door. Behind it stood Paul, looking haggard and a bit peaked. As if he had a headache.

He smiled a thin smile, eyes dancing over the colored swirls on her clothing and said, "You've been creative, I see."

"Yes... for all the good it does me..." she said soberly, moving aside to let him in. "I got so angry... so angry at myself..."

Paul noticed the traces of a red paint spill, and watched in silence as she walked over to join him, grabbing paint thinner and a fresh rag. Crouching near him she continued to wipe up the offending stain.

"I thought I wanted to break something..." she murmured. "but I came up here... and got angry at the paint."

"Well, at least you've got something to show for it. I, on the other hand, have a nice dent I've just put in our music room's ceiling.

"I don't know if you'd call that art..." she said, pointing to the canvas on the floor. Paul ran his hands through his hair, and waited for her to finish speaking.

"I shouldn't have said what I did," she sighs, turning from him and picking up the canvas. She set it up by the easel, and continued cleaning up the rest of her mess.

"I should have kept my f--ing mouth shut," Trynia muttered, fixing her gaze on the swirls of purple erupting across the white.

"Trynia, that was all my fault. Please do not think any differently. I can not possibly be more angry with myself than I am right now."

"Well that makes two of us. I'm pissed at me, and you're pissed at you..." she joked weakly. "We've got enough angst to start a punk band..."

"It was all meant in fun, and I had no idea...." he said fishing for words. "That you would get freaked about me bringing up your parents... you should have just told me..."

"I wanted to, but I was so pissed at a lame reason for ruining the mood..." she apologized. "And then... I hurt you... your hip..."

"Why didn't' you tell me?"

"You know how lame it sounds to say, LOVER I can't perform because I'm thinking of mom and dad, and it makes me frigid..."

"You're not the only one," Paul said sheepishly, and then his face creased in anger.

"I'm sorry I hurt your hip..."

"That's only PART of what happened," Paul said. "And it isn't your fault. I actually... lost it... lost my... you know? In other words the flag stopped at half mast... or any other way you'd know a guy to mention it!"

"Oh... damn..." Trynia gasped, realizing what he meant.

"Tryn, in the whole time I've known you, I've never been unable to perform"

"I... didn't realize..."

"That's why I'm so mad at me."

"I..."

"Yeah, I don't give a damn about you telling me to shut my trap. Hell, I deserved it. I'm just so f***cking embarrassed that....well.....I lost an erection, like a 16 year old school boy."

He kicks a paint can lightly with his toe and snorts, "Paul Stanley, the Consummate Lover. Yeah, RIGHT!"

"Oh jeez Paul... but you were in pain because of your hip."

"Yeah, my stupid goddamn bum hip," he added, and turned away with his back to her. "So much for hurting so good..."

"Paul... wait... now look..." she said slowly, wanting to cross over to him, but sensing this was far deeper then she could hope to ever know. Of course she knew what a huge deal it was to perform.

"Tryn....it's a guy thing...."

"Paul, I'm not stupid," Trynia snapped. "I have three brothers, with raging hormones. You'd think by now I would know what guy things are... and when they can't maintain their... juice, they get really freaked."

"You would THINK I could have recovered. Even from a little pain..."

"well you are a human being, Stanley. And your hip was hurting you."

"Guess that's what I get for bragging all night about my sexual skills", he said sarcastically. "God is laughing his ass off, most likely."

"Well, I'm not laughing at you," she says slowly. "Am I?"

"Nah, I know. I guess I'm doing a good enough job of that myself."

"Yes you are..." she says.

"I guess this is one night were we're taking a long hard look at ourselves..." he sighed, peering out the window. A light snow had begun to fall, and he felt suddenly a hundred years old. "Next time I brag about my sexual gymnastics when I'm flat on my back in traction, you'll laugh your ass off."

"No," Trynia responded, voice low.

"He couldn't even handle it in a sports car with two GOOD hips," Paul continued his self-rant, throwing his arms wide.

"I WON'T," Trynia said, voice rising in volume. "Do you think it's just the SEX that holds us together? I'll admit I love that part of who we are, but it's not the only thing now."

Paul whirled around, hands shoved into his pockets. Dark eyes gleamed black as coal in anger, "I'm 50 years old, Trynia. Your dad thinks I'm too old for you. I was a total friggin' flop tonight back in that car. What are we going to DO when you're 40 and in your peak, and I'm 60 something?"

"I don't know Paul," Trynia said, shoving her own hands into her pockets. "But I think that you're being entirely too hard on yourself..."

Turning back, he looked straight out the window again, into the dark of night. Trynia looked away from him, her eyes filling with tears again. She turned away so he could not see them forming in her eyes. He turned away from the window, and walked past her toward the canvas racks. Her head popped up when she heard him say, "I dunno......I guess I'll turn in, though."

Trynia suddenly moved over to him, and snapped, "And I don't give a SHIT what my dad thinks of your age, buster."

"Night, Hon" he murmurs, heading toward the door. Quickly Trynia rushed and shoved herself in front of him. Paul at first tried to move past her, but she slammed the door behind herself, and blocked it with her body. Straight into her eyes he looked, his own gaze hard and questioning. He said, "Baby it's late and we're both tired. Why don't you just let us both get some rest..."

"I'll be Damned if I let you walk out of here letting you feel SORRY FOR YOURSELF!" she gritted, chest heaving up and down. Her hands grabbed his arms, forcibly stopping him. IN her dark eyes erupted a fire that surprised him, for he had seen it only before in Terri's gaze. Before she had thrown his flowers in the trash.

"Nah, you care about your dad. That's how it should be," Paul shook his head. "He's right. I'm too old for you."

"No," Trynia panted, glaring at him. "I'm not letting this go.

I REFUSE to let you beat yourself up."

Noticing the look in her eyes, he realized why it startled him so much. For it resembled his own hard stares. Was it possible his own fire had come alight in her? More so then he had ever realized or dreamed.

"Well, it's not really pity....it's......facts." he sighed.

"So what?" she asked. "Do you think I don't know about facts? I was a chemist for crying out loud..."

"But you know that they're important, Hon," he said, shuffling his feet a bit.

"And there is a point where you leave them behind..." Trynia said. "Sometimes scientists go on their gut, their intuition, when the facts say that everything they've ever been taught is wrong... and then they come up with a totally NEW theory to explain them."

"So, what you're saying is that I leave this behind? Well, excuse my sarcasm, but it's easy to say when anatomically you are prepared for sex at any old minute." Paul snapped, raising his voice in self-defense.

"No," Trynia shook her head, working up her nerve to not shrink away from the angry glare. "I'm not saying that at ALL damn it."

"Sooooo, you're WHAT? Patronizing me?" Paul shook his head with a sarcastic laugh. "Ohhh hooo, that's great."

"No," Trynia said again, her heart pounding. "I'm not letting you give up."

"Paulie, everything will be JUSTTTTTT fine. Don't worry. You didn't just go soft on me."

"Damn it NO! That's not it either." She gritted.

"Everything isn't fine, and I know it," Paul sighed.

"There's something here that I am seeing..." Trynia said firmly. "That's really getting your wierded out on me... and I want to know WHAT it is!"

"Look.......our sex life, it's been great. Top class. Perfect, even. And tonight, we did nothing, mainly because of me."

"Why because of you? I hurt your damn hip, not you," she snapped.

He muttered, "You're female. It's easy for you."

"Bullshit. Do you know how HARD it is for me to work up to a climax? To even get to that place once the mood's been spoiled?"

His eyes glared black, his anger flaring in his own shout back, "No, it's NOT bullshit!!! You can go from a broken down car to have two men right after each other in a matter of minutes.....Ohhh....crap......"

"So we're back to that again, are we?" Trynia said, voice low and cold. No tears erupted at this word, for her mind was on fire with anger. It gave her the courage to meet his words, knowing she had to stand up to whatever this ugly unknown was that had transformed Paul and replaced him with bitterness.

He looked down at the hardwood floor, and squeezed his eyes shut in anger, muttering, "Son of a bitch."

"are you afraid... that this makes me think any less of you? Cause you couldn't be more wrong."

"Yeah....." he said quietly, unable to look her in the face.

"And if you can't see that, I'm sorry," Trynia sighed, and released him. She watched as he moved back, and rubbed his forehead.

"That....that was a low blow. I'm sorry, hon. The Gene thing. It had nothing to do with tonight. I shouldn't have hit you over the head with it."

"You're scared, aren't you..." Trynia asked.

"Hell, YEAH, I'm scared."

"Scared that I'll leave you because you can't... perform?" she pressed further, sensing she at last knew the cause. "is THAT it?"

"Trynia, I'm getting old. Your dad..... That damn surgery. Now tonight."

"Ohh baby, that's awful..." Trynia sighed deeply and shook her head.

"Shit.......in a couple of years, I could be a grandfather. Claudia....." Paul murmured, rubbing his temples. He again turned away, head in his hands. Rubbing his face violently as he combed through his short dark hair.

"Paul I don't know how to help you..." Trynia whispered, shaking her head. "This is... man... a heavy one..."

"Plug in a video from the 70's, Tryn. I can't do those jumps any more. I don't have that long hair any more. I can't..... I used to be able to do 2 or 3 girls in a night and not think TWICE."

"Damn, I wish I had never opened my moth about that hip surgery," she sighed. "It's my fault."

"And now I'm having a frigging hip replaced, like someone's grandpa?" he snorted. "I'm not angry at you.......I'm frustrated with...."

"Paul... I can't help you..." Trynia cried, shaking her head. "I wish I could say something that would make you understand..."

"And who KNOWS if the group will ever get back together again. Gene's going in 80 different directions so he's plenty busy. Ace has his solo work. Pete's got his own direction....." Paul continued. "Me....I'm just physically falling apart."

Trynia moved over to him, slipping her arms around him as she hugged him from behind. She stroked her cheek against his back, holding him close. He turned around in her arms, looking down at her with a deep, sorrowful gaze.

"Sorry, sweets. Guess you caught the sexy rock and roll star on the "aging musician" downswing."

"That's part of who you are." Trynia sighed, patting his cheek. "I can't change it, or expect you to hide it from me."

"Should have been born 20 years earlier" he feebly attempted to joke.

"No. I love you. Not some 20 year younger whoever..." Trynia said firmly, caressing his cheek with her hand as she slipped her other up and down his chest. "You've been my dream for so long, and I'm FAR from being disappointed."

He grinned a bit, "You sure? I saw you eye that Dynasty costume."

"Yes..." she nodded. "That's RIGHT."

He took her hands in his, as she continued, "I always loved how you looked in that thing. And whenever you put on that makeup, you always look hot."

Again he smiled, blushing a bit. Trynia continued, eyes sparkling, "And you're in Far better shape then men HALF your age. My ex boyfriend didn't have a body like yours, and he was 25. he was a scrawny guy with a paunch... and no muscle tone..."

"Yeah....YEAH...." Paul said, grinning more. A bit of the old sparkle was returning to his eyes, gladdening her heart.

"And he didn't have a million dollar ass..." Trynia nodded, freeing her hands from his and running them down his hips to his backside to squeeze it. "And he CERTAINLY didn't have your expertise in teaching me what I could even do... Between the sheets..."

"Trynia, what do you want to do?" Paul asked, the dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's not too late and we have a cold bottle of wine in the refrigerator. I want to make it up to you somehow."

"That's the best suggestion you have had, Mister. And get this, most guys aged 19 couldn't HOLD it more then a minute..."

"I think we should give those underwear a second chance..." Paul winked, chuckling again.

"Kevin could NEVER UH all night," Trynia added, pursing her lips.

"Well, ma'am, what's your flavor of choice?" Paul asked, with a lascivious grin.

"Well I love chocolate... but I think the Merlot would be nice..."

"Hmmm. I think we have some of that downstairs as well."

"And what about your preferred animal print?" he asked, taking her hand and leading her to the door.

"Hmm... I love tigers. Especially experienced ones."

"Oh, GOD" he joked, "You're not going to bring up Tony Tiger now, are you? I mean, since I survived the George Jetson comment."

"No. I was thinking of that tiger from Aladdin," she said, leading him out of the studio and down the narrow stairs of the garret. "That dangerous tiger that guarded the princess."

"Aha, Raja." Paul hummed. They emerged on the second floor, pausing before the bedroom door.

"Yes exactly," Trynia nodded eagerly.

"That would be an Evan Stanley pick of the week," Paul smiled, and pulled her into his arms. She ran her hands up and down his shirt, loving the feel of his strong muscles holding her so securely.

"Yes," she smiled, and leaned up to kiss him briefly yet tenderly.

"And if you asked him about his daddy he'd say he's the strongest and handsomest in the world."

"Tryn..." Paul asked, tilting her chin to meet his gaze.

"Yes?"

"Your dad asked me tonight when we were going to have children."

"Oh lord," she laughed, shaking with a strange vibe. "Well, that's a good question, isn't it?"

"Yeah...."

"I don't know if we should wait so long... to give Evan a brother or a sister... do you?" she said slowly. "He is almost seven."

"I guess.... I guess I need to wait, huh?" he asked, then looked away. "Tonight...would be too soon."

"I... uh... well..." she fumbled a bit. Paul snapped his gaze back to her, a twinkle in his gaze.

"Yes, of course. Too soon," he nodded.

"I do have a semester off... And I sort of... forgot to renew my prescription..."

He looked at her hopefully and said nothing. Trynia stopped, licking her lips slowly. Anxiously he urged, "Please continue your thought.... Sort of...as in WHEN?"

"Uh well... last month?" she glanced up at him.

"So, for 30 days..."

"Yes..." she nodded. "And I had my period... about three weeks ago..."

He stood there stunned, at the fact she had gone off birth control, just like that, and muttered, "Huh. Oh...that's good news...right?"

"Yes... but... well... I have been keeping track of days that are more and less likely to be... potentials..." she said awkwardly. "Then others..."

He chuckled, "My little scientist and her charts."

"Yes... they used to call it the rhythm method," Trynia muttered. "And now they call it family planning..."

"This is...heady stuff, love," Paul said slowly, a strange hope building inside of him. "Yeah, I've heard of it. As a matter of fact, Gene loves to make fun of it."

"Oh an endorsement from the demon..." Trynia joked.

"Something about people and being too lazy to buy condoms. You know Gene."

"Well, they do get in the way sometimes..." Trynia flushed. Paul's heart began to pound very fast at that moment...

Her hands danced over the front of his pants, new flat front style that had a very different fastening. Again, she snapped his suspenders, savoring the stiff starch present in the shirt. He reached down her back, to tug up her T-shirt, and slip his hand between her back and her bra strap. Leaning up, she savored the pressure of his lips on hers. For a time she simply enjoyed kissing him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and feeling his teeth gently clamp down to capture it and suck on it.

Paul's hands slid down her backside to cup it and then slipped his fine fingers into her pants. Slowly he unzipped her jeans and she shook her hips to let them fall. They were size 20's, baggy now on her because she was now a well-toned 16.

Parting from the kiss, Paul smiled at her and asked, "Why don't you pick something more comfortable to slip into while I get that wine..."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely, unless you want to cuddle in front of the fire?" he smiled.

"Actually why don't I surprise you?" she asked with a grin. He smiled back, and blew her a kiss, striding out the bedroom door. Trynia finished undressing, and grabbed one of the long silk nightgowns that Paul had recently bought her. Thoughtfully she ran the silk through her hands while she waited for him to return.

Downstairs, Paul rooted through the fridge, his hand finding the slim neck of the bottle of Merlot. He drew it out and placed it carefully on a tray next to a pair of tall wine goblets that he knew from which she especially liked to drink. Carefully he carried the tray upstairs, and paused before the bedroom door. There was something he had to get first, so he placed the tray on the floor, and entered the music room instead. He found his Washburn electric, the black gloss one in its case. Taking the small box enclosed inside, he peered at the contents thoughtfully.

Minutes later he was ready, and returned to the tray. Scooping it up he carried it to the door and knocked three times. "Room service!" he announced clearly.

"I can't say no baby," came the answer from within. Paul grinned when she opened the door, her arm by his head with a long red robe encasing her form.

"Shall I pour?" he asked, holding up the tray.

"Come on in," she beckoned slowly, a small seductive smile on her face. Watching the sway of her hips under the silk robe that swirled around her ankles, he followed her inside their now familiar bedroom. It didn't take long for him to pop the cork and pour two glasses. On the dresser he had placed the tray, and turned around with a glass of wine in either hand to see her standing only two feet from him, robe slightly parted.

"Now I wonder what you're wearing under that?" he joked, handing her one glass. She took it, still holding the robe shut with one hand, and he noticed she had no belt to the robe at that moment! Paul lightly took her other hand, and pulled her close to his hips so she was forced to let go of her robe. Against him, she was warm and breathing.

"You waste no time getting what you want,' she chuckled. Paul sipped his wine, and leaned down to kiss her soft lips. She loved the taste of Merlot on the tongue that ventured forth into her mouth, and wrapped both arms, including the hand that held the wine around his waist. Paul transferred the wine to the hand that held her tightly to him, still locked in a kiss, and reached with his freed hand to stroke her back and arms through the silk. He slowly began to push the robe off her arms, only to feel her shivering against him when her bare shoulders were revealed. Peering beside her cheek with a half-opened eye, he noticed how much flesh was now visible.

What was she wearing under the robe, or what wasn't she, he corrected himself. She parted from the kiss, peering up into his smiling face, and apologized, "Well I know it isn't very imaginative... but..."

"Shh," Paul laughed. "I think it's the best dressed you've been lately love."

So precariously was the robe positioned on the edge of her elbows that only contact with Paul kept it up as far as it was. She loved the feel of her bare skin pressing against his clothes, a strange and erotic pleasure she had not counted on till now. Freeing her arm from around his neck she tossed back a good sip of wine and licked her lips. Paul did the same, transferring the wine to his hand that didn't hold her close and sipping a deep draught of the heady wine before proceeding. Her other hand slipped down between them, investigating the fastenings of the flat fronted pants, and finding the buttons on one side as she recalled them in the car.

"I think I'm not the only one not wasting time," he joked. She finished off her glass of wine, and turned to try to put it down, but was stopped by Paul's arm around her waist.

"Where are you going?" he teased.

"Unless you want the rest of this wine on your lovely shirt and pants, I was going to put this over here..."

"Hmm all right," he chuckled, letting her go for a moment. Her robe slipped off, and she was about to catch it when Paul took the wineglass from her hand. "Let it go baby..."

He placed both wineglasses to the side, and beckoned her to step forward with one finger. Despite herself, Trynia strode forward without question, letting the robe drop to the floor in a whisper of silk. Paul stroked his finger down over her tattoo for a moment, and then returned the finger to his mouth, licking off the salty taste of her sweat there. Her knees gave way and she almost lost her footing immediately. Paul caught her about the waist, gently lifting her and setting her on their queen sized bed with great care.

Covering her face with kisses, he climbed on top of her, letting his weight rest on top of her. She never tired of Paul pressing her into the bed, clothes pressed to every inch of her bare skin. Reaching between them, she fumbled at the buttons of his shirt and pants. Paul gently eased himself up off her and lay down on his back, making himself as comfortable as possible. The ibuprofen he had taken was already reducing the twinging in his hip to a dull ache he could withstand if he was cautious.

"These clothes are getting in the way. See what you can do about them, baby," he said firmly, yet tenderly with an air of command that set her afire.

Lying back, he let her slowly undress him, with soft kisses bathing his chest. She undressed him slowly, unwrapping the strange gift that she had enjoyed so many times before. Gingerly she slipped his pants down and off him while his eyes feasted on her nude form, deep with desire.

"I'm getting a little bit thirsty here," he whispered. "Bring me some wine, baby..."

Hearing the command in his voice, she rose and crossed the room to fetch their glasses. Charging each with Merlot, she picked them up in one hand, the wine in her other and strode back to the bed. He straightened up on the bed, pulling aside the sheets and slipping under them. Concealing his body beneath the sheets, he pulled the blankets up to his chest and smiled demurely at her.

"That's not fair, covering up, you stinker," she pouted.

"What are you going to do about it?" Paul grinned mischievously. She handed him his glass of wine, and he quickly drained it in three sips.

"This," she whispered, laying down next to him, blankets separating them both from each other. Her hand stroked over the lumps that contoured his body and he gave a slow sexy wink.

"You know it's getting a little bit hot under here, and I think you're a little bit chilly running around like that... why don't you come get a little bit warmer..." he said, in that loud stage voice that drove her wild.

"And what will you do to get me there, loverboy? I think you're going to have to invite me to come down there," she asked, rising from the bed and backing away demurely with her hands concealing her breasts.

"C'mon over here and love me," Paul cooed in his best Starchild voice.

"I think I didn't hear you," she teased. "You're gonna have to try a little bit harder then that..."

"Well, what if I told you I was the God of Thunder?" he winked, sitting up in the bed erectly, and tossing the covers aside.

"I thought that was Gene's role," she laughed.

"I was born on Olympus, to my father a son, you know," Paul winked, kneeling up in the bed, head tossed back a bit, as he ran his hands through his short hair. "I was raised by the women, and I live for pleasure and fun."

"Do you now?" Trynia asked. "And who am I then?"

"You're the daughter of Aphrodite," Paul continued, voice growing in intensity that shivered her through and through. Raising his hand, he pointed to her, beckoning her forth again with a masterful light blazing in the dark eyes. "So make love to me please..."

Trynia strode forward, and stopped just before the edge of the bed. "And who are you again? Why should I?"

"Because I'm the MASTER of METAL, and the MODERN DAY Man of STEEL. Come before me and KNEEL.... " Paul commanded, struggling not to laugh, because she looked so cute as she suddenly dropped down on her knees before him, standing by the bed. Hair frizzed into a curly shoulder length halo, the softness of the oil lamp behind him he peered down at her, pointing to a spot before him like some Greek statue.

Softly she kissed his feet, climbing up to his knees with soft licks. Paul sighed as she worked up to his thighs, and then rubbed her cheek against his thong underwear. For a moment she noticed they were the tiger striped ones, and chuckled softly. Grasping her in his arms, he swept her back onto the bed, pulling her down with his weight. Using his body he rolled her over to where the covers were pulled back, and pinned her between his knees. Reaching behind him he tugged the covers around them both, and trapped her under his body once more.

She whimpered in sheer pleasure with the soft kisses on her neck, fingers caressing and playing with her breasts. Hands caressed up and down her body with the strange frenzy of his soft kisses and licks. She grabbed at the flimsy clasps that held the underwear to his body, and the small scrap of tiger print cloth was expelled from beneath the bedspread. Slowly it slipped to the hardwood floor. He parted her knees with his hips, leaning heavily into her as she automatically raised her hips in opposition to the feel of his firmness at her periphery.

In a swift push, he entered her, impaling her soundly. There was little doubt in her mind that he was nowhere near loosing this excitement, so she said little. Except the soft cries of pleasure that racked her body as Paul thrust strongly into her with a powerful force, he had not tried for a long time. It was almost as if he were pouring his hopes and desires into this rocking assault of sheer pleasure. Trynia could not hold in the cries that turned to desperate screams. She could not catch her breath he moved so powerfully into her. It was a blissful ride that she had come to endure and love, rolling her hips against him in a motion to draw him deeper inside.

"Perfect baby," Paul gasped, stopping for a moment to catch his breath. Still hard and firm inside her, they glistened both with sweat.

"Paul... you are the damn god of thunder tonight," she gasped, eyes filled with tears that were somewhere between pleasure and intense mirth. A dozen emotions were wrapped into one, as she looked up into his dark eyes.

"Thank you love," he whispered, staying still for a moment and stopping to enjoy the feel of her encasing him. He pulled out slowly, still hard.

"Paul?" she asked.

"I think I'd better put something on, don't you?" he whispered, kissing her tenderly.

"Must you?"

"I don't want us to take a step in the heat of passion that we haven't thought out," Paul whispered.

"Part of me wants so badly to just not worry..."

"I know," Paul whispered, reaching for a condom in the bureau drawer, and ripping the package open. "But I made a promise. And I want this to be planned out carefully... please trust me..."

"I understand," she whispered back, tears in her eyes.

"Just for now let me enjoy you, and love you," he whispered, kissing her nose as he thrust back inside, and resumed his climb to inevitable release.

He finally came in a hot rush, contained by the barrier, his stage cry echoing in her ears. She answered it with her own, holding him close in her arms as he collapsed on top of her.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her. She nodded, the day catching up with her as she felt sleep claiming her.

"I love you too, Paul," she whispered back, eyes shutting as she yawned and stretched under him with a sigh of pleasure.

"Now... there was one question I wanted to ask you, sweetheart, so wait right here a moment," Paul whispered, stroking her hair. Sleepily she nodded, and he moved up off her. He gently pulled out and climbed out of bed to clean himself off a bit, moving across the room. Trynia turned over in the sheets, her whole body satiated with pleasure.

Paul softly kissed her ear when he returned, pulling the blankets and cuddling up against her back with his front. He whispered, "Tryn... there's something very important I have to ask you..."

All he heard was soft steady breathing. "I know this comes as a surprise... but I've been thinking... and well..."

Still no answer, he realized. He turned her over in his arms, and realized she was dozing peacefully. Sighing, he placed the object he had fetched into the drawer of his nightstand, and curled up next to her. Soon he too was fast asleep.