Web hosting Custom Email SiteBuilder

By StarbearerTM

With ideas from Cookiegirl. Thanks bunches, KISSter!

The first two weeks of school passed quickly, and Trynia and Paul were settling into their new routine. Paul attended rehearsals for two weeks at least till they would be up and ready for the premere night, at the end of January.

However, this was the second weekend, and Paul had a suprise for Trynia. She had recently completed three new paintings in the new studio he had given her, and she arrived home on a Thursday to find Paul holding a letter in his hand.

It was an invitation to show her work at a small private gallery of one of his friends. An art dealer in Manhattan was searching for new talent, and Paul's recommendation of several new artists, from which he bought paintings for his homes, had reached this friend's eyes. The color pictures of Trynia's portfolio had also impressed this friend, and before she knew it Trynia was boxing up her paintings to be shipped and put up that following weekend.

The actual show was on Saturday, and Trynia was nervous. In the prestigious gallery, many patrons bustled about in the large space. Spacious and light, it afforded many surfaces to display new paintings and sculpture for sale. Small cards on the sides of each painting told the artist, opening bid price, and other information regarding the works. Wine and cheese were consumed with other light refreshments, set out on a lavish buffet. Two lines paraded back and forth to partake of fresh shrimp, sculpted fruit, and other delicacies as well.

Dressed in a cream colored jacket, black silk shirt and leather pants, Paul watched the patrons come and go. He scanned the crowd for the main reason he attended. As she strode out from the line of the lady's room, he held out an arm to her. The pink sundress with white and yellow flowers was cut above her knees, V-necked, and fit her figure well. She wore sandals with a two inch tapered heel, her shapely legs graceful and clad in smoke colored stockings.

"C'mon over here and let me get you a drink, pretty lady," Paul smiled at her. She let him slip his arm around her hip and pull her close to his body. He escorted her to the buffet table and they began to partake of the offerings.

"I can't believe I'm here," she gasped.

"Believe it. And believe it or not I've seen a few people looking very closely at two particular paintings, honey!"

"Hmm I wonder which ones those would be?" she teased.

"Would it be by a certain ravishing lady artist that I happen to know personally? Very personally?" Paul purred into her ear. He handed her a glass of champagne and she sipped it with a slow slime.

"C'mon," she groaned and kissed his cheek softly. Paul rubbed her hip sensually and led her over to where a group of people had clustered around her two paintings. It didn't pass her observation that many of the patrons who were women, particularly the ones her age and younger were several sizes smaller then she. There were not many "normal" people present, and it made her a little nervous.

"Interesting use of color and contrast..." one of the patrons muttered to her husband.

"Good use of positive and negative space in the abstract to the left," another said. Two large canvases stood on the wall, one of a huge abstract swirl of many patterns. They appeared as if someone had thrown himself or herself against the canvas and smeared their hands and face against the backdrop of vibrant pastel.

The second was a full sized portrait of Paul in Starchild makeup, and the other had him juxtaposed with his eighties image. Both regarded each other through a strange fairytale mirror. Another painting, an abstract surreal landscape stood next to the other two, with the large scale just as imposing as the purely abstract one.

"Trynia Merin, I've not heard that name before in art, "said the one.

"Well if you're not sure of who she is, she's right behind you," Paul smiled as he called to the people clustered around her paintings.

"Oh!" one older woman said. "Mr. Stanley, how pleasant to see you again! And is this the new artist?"

"That would be she," he smiled, and urged Trynia to introduce herself. He passed her the glass of white wine and let her mix and mingle.

"Where did you study?" a woman in a neat business suit asked.

"Well, I did take some classes at the Art Institute of Philadelphia, in between going to college and grad school..."

"Good school," the lady nodded.

"I also studied art at Drew, as a minor," she said. "In Madison New Jersey. Under Professor Peglau..."

"You don't say? Mike Peglau?"

"The very same... the one who wanted to be a chemist but decided to be an artist..." she flushed at the irony.

"Following his footsteps?" the lady, named August Renatta asked. She was a prominent buyer of art for local galleries. Soon Trynia was introduced to the others interested in her work. Paul stood to one side, also socializing. They never kept too much distance between them however. It was as if Paul was letting her have her space yet still keeping a safe watch over her if she needed help.

As Trynia saw the bids for her paintings start to accumulate, she noticed a slender blond wander over and place a bid card in the small box, near the Starchild Painting. The robins egg blue dress with the white bolero jacket fit the body like a second skin, shapely tanned legs terminating in high-heeled boots.

She turned, and saw Trynia's curious look. "Oh, I'm sorry are you going to make a bid?"

"Oh, no I'm the artist," she laughed. "I'm Trynia..."

"Rochelle Deveraux," she smiled, offering a slender hand, with perfectly manicured nails. Trynia shook her hand, feeling the smooth skin and long slender fingers. As Rochelle drew back her hand, her smooth face formed into a beautiful and radiant smile. Her hair was twisted up in a French knot, long strands spiraling down on either side of her high-cheekbone face to frame it perfectly.

"Nice to meet you! I saw you just bid on my Paul painting?"

"Indeed. It's one of the most intriguing ones I've seen. You've really captured the essence of him. Especially the eyes..." she sighed, glancing up at them.

"Rochelle?" Paul asked, striding up to join Trynia. "Is that you?"

"Paul! Great to see you again, dear!" she cried, holding out her arms. The two of them hugged each other tightly, like long lost friends.

"Rochelle, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Trynia," Paul smiled, arm around her shoulders as he took Trynia's hand.

"Oh your girlfriend! Yes we've met! I have to say she does the best Paul paintings I've yet seen!"

"Well, she has a good muse," Paul smiled, arm around Trynia's waist. He still fixed his gaze on Rochelle, smiling at her with a strange fondness that made Trynia feel a bit jealous.

"You two old friends?" Trynia asked.

"Oh we go back a few years," Rochelle smiled. "Don't we?"

"Those were some crazy nights," Paul laughed. "Say, Trynia, why don't you two get to know each other a little bit. I have to go speak to some patrons about how they're going to handle the bids... but I'll be back..."

"Okay," Trynia smiled, and he pecked her cheek tenderly as he moved on to another group in the middle of the gallery. Already the sun had gone down, and Trynia saw the distant stars peaking through the wing of the MOMA side gallery. It was difficult to believe she was actually here, in NYC in a small gallery with other up-and-coming artists. There were at least ten artists here with their wares, and her three paintings seemed vastly different from the others offered. Yet, she saw the bids accumulating on hers as well as the others.

"So Trynia, how did you and Paul meet?" Rochelle asked, getting a glass of white wine from the bar as Trynia refilled hers.

"Well we met on tour," Trynia said. "My car broke down at the side of the road..."

"Oh that's very unusual," Rochelle laughed. "Tell me all about it..."

Trynia spun the tale of her and Paul's first meeting, by chance, leaving out all references to the threesome with Gene. Rochelle nodded and smiled as her story went on, ending in somewhere in the present day. "Do you know how I first met Paul?" Rochelle asked.

"No..."

"Back in the Disco era! I used to hang around Studio 54, and the other clubs. Imagine my surprise when I started dancing with a tall dark stranger. It was about 1979, and I was young and footloose fancy-free. Jon Travolta and all. Well the two of us hit it off well. And then he asks if I like KISS, and I ask him if he knows how I could see them on tour since they were sold out..."

"Oh?" Trynia asked.

"Well how was I to know that I was dancing with Paul Stanley?" she grinned. "I had the best time at the concert. And we kept writing letters to each other after that. But it wasn't until later that I graduated from college and started my modeling career, and ran into him again. Did Paul ever tell you about the Crazy Nights era?"

"Not much..." Trynia smiled.

"Well believe it or not that's how I got my break,." Rochelle smiled. "I had just started out in a modeling career, but it wasn't going anywhere. So my agent called and asked if I wanted to try music videos... well when he called me up for a part in a KISS video I thought he was joking. But when I met the guys in the band, I was surprised and pleased..."

"Which video?"

"Uh all Night," she laughed. "Can you believe it? I was one of the nurses... pushing a bed!"

"Good grief," Trynia laughed. "And then what?"

"They needed a few extras for Exposed. Naturally they liked my work in their videos so I was one of the lucky girls to be called back. "

"Were you one of the carols?" Trynia asked.

"You have a good eye. I was also one of the girls walking by the swimming pool. And the one that Eric was chasing..."

"Did you show up in any Bon Jovi vids?" Trynia asked.

"Well after that exposure I was offered a contract by Coppertone to be a swimsuit model, and a tanning girl in some of the magazine ads. After that it was Cover Girl... and onwards and upwards..."

"I could swear I have seen you before..."

"Well the latest was a spot for Playtex tampons," she laughed and flushed. "I'm no supermodel, but I have managed to keep current. And also I have segwayed into acting a bit... and Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition for a few years in a row... but nothing like Playboy... not like Gene's ex... that wasn't my style..."

"Any hobbies?" Trynia asked.

"I really enjoy learning about marine biology," she nodded. "There was one summer when I took a class in scuba diving, and after that... it was all uphill from there. Now I do charity benefits for the preservation of marine life..."

"I'm pursuing my master's in chemistry at Villanova," Trynia told her.

"You're one incredible artist. Why given a few years..." Rochelle observed. "You could really go places... given time... and the right exposure."

"You liked the Paul one?"

"It would look great in my LA apartment in my music room. After all KISS helped get my career going..."

"Well then," Trynia said, walking over and scribbling something on a card. She pinned a "SOLD" sign over the other bids, and beckoned Rochelle to join her.

"You sure?"

"I want you to have the privilege of buying it," Trynia said.

"Oh thank you... will you take a check?" Rochelle asked. "No wait... I have to go through the cashier. Let me go do that now before you change your mind!"

Glancing at the highest bid price, she took her ticket and moved over to the cashier. Trynia smiled and leaned back to feel the joy of her first professional sale. It occurred to her that she hadn't checked how much the highest bid was.

"Trynia..." Paul smiled as he strode over to her. "This one gentleman is interested in purchasing your Abstract Spectrum 2 for his office complex..."

"Really?"

"Yeah, meet Mr. Bertram Poindexter... he's wanting to offer you ten thousand for it..."

"Uh... oh my..." Trynia gasped, and pulled Paul close to whisper. "Should I take it?"

"Well, it's up to you...."

"I'll take the two abstracts together for 15,000," he said. "Fair price..."

"20," she said.

"Seventeen," he said.

"Sold," Trynia said with a gasp as she glanced sidelong at the other bids. Paul smiled as she shook the man's eager hand, and he filled the SOLD sign twice. She pinned the cards over the other bids, and exhaled in relief.

"Well done, sweetie," Paul smiled, kissing her cheek. "I think you and he both got a good deal..."

"But I've seen others going for higher..."

"That's more then fair for canvases that size. And considering Rochelle's paying you 4 grand for my picture..."

"But doesn't the gallery get 20 percent of that?"

"Yeah, but hey, it's a good deal," Paul said.

"Oh yes... that's still 13600 for the two, and 3200 for the other," Trynia gasped. "Man..."

"You see, you're doing fine," Paul beamed with pride. "Well done love!!!"

She still felt dizzy as she contemplated the numbers. Paul drew her close to his waist with an arm around her hips, clinking his wineglass to hers. Bertram smiled and took his bid to the cashier.

Later, Rochelle wandered back over and they continued their conversation, with Paul this time. Trynia wanted to know all about what KISS was like during the eighties when she had done the videos.

"Well, they were Crazy nights," she laughed. "I remember Paul and that captains hat... as I recall you thought it was one of the worst ideas..."

"Really?" Trynia looked to Paul.

"Well I changed my tune after I saw the way you models reacted," Paul winked at her. "Then I was sold!"

"Flirt," Rochelle winked back. "Still a bad boy under that soulful stare! Look out Trynia, he's a live one!"

"He is," Trynia nodded, feeling Paul's grasp on her tighten.

"Do you remember that time Paul when we all went to that little club in downtown LA... the Flaming Parrot..."

"Eric Carr had the bright idea for taking Bruce on a night on the town. So Gene and I dragged him and the whole group of Carols from the Exposed video and when Bruce saw them all piled into the limo.. he almost blushed and turned around to walk the other way!" Paul laughed.

"But you, you were playing that Mister shy act! Tryn, it took five glasses of Moselle to loosen him up! And then he and Bruce were dancing on the tables singing Tears are Falling!!!"

"All along the bar," Paul groaned. "Man I had forgotten!!"

"For a shy guy, all the girls at the club were all over him and Bruce," Rochelle laughed. "For me to get a dance with Paul here I needed a shoehorn and a can of axle grease to get in on the action!"

Trynia's smile faded, and she grew a bit silent. Slowly she nodded and said, "Oh, yes....Paul is very handsome."

She moved away from Paul a bit and sat down on one of the benches. Rochelle sat right next to her, forcing Paul to sit in a chair cattycorner to them. He laughed and grinned as she finished her story, then changed to another topic.

"So, Paul, do you still have that awesome collection of guitars? Trynia, Paul used to have the most BEAUTIFUL guitars in his penthouse."

"Uh when did you have a penthouse Paul?" Trynia asked.

"In NYC, just after KISS made it big. I kept it for a while... till the bankruptcy..." Paul said. "It was beautiful, over looking Central Park..."

"And it had the cutest little patio, and a huge studio!!!"

Hot anger flushed over Trynia, and she bit her lip. Paul smiled and laughed along with the memories surfacing, words spinning into an account of late night parties with the band, and nights on the dance club scene of the late eighties . A knot choked her throat and she put a hand to her head.

"Sweetie are you okay?" Paul asked her.

"I have a pounding headache," she whispered. "I'm sorry..."

"Want to go home?" Paul asked her.

"I don't want to tear you away..."

"Hey, don't worry, girl," Rochelle said. "I have some Excedrin in my purse..."

"Thanks," Paul said, taking the medicine she extracted. "Wait here, I'll get you some water..."

"Trynia are you all right?" Rochelle asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"It must be the excitement..."

"Hey, relax and take deep breaths.... why don't' we take a walk on the patio outside..."

It was only eight thirty when Paul drove along the West Side highway to get to the Holland Tunnel and wend his way out of the City. Trynia leaned back in the car, fighting the tears that threatened to form. For a time, she closed her eyes, feigning a nap. However she felt a hand gently slipping over hers, and she moved it away.

"Sweetie, what's wrong? The exhibit went great!"

"Yes... it did.... didn't it..." Trynia muttered back.

"Hell, yes! I heard several people say they were very interested in purchasing some pieces."

"Well yes... I was there, remember?" she sighed.

"Don't worry. My rising star won't be ripped off by anyone."

"Well that would be unfortunate, wouldn't it..." Trynia said crisply.

"By the way, I intend to take home the nicest piece at the show ," he laughed, and slipped his free hand between her back and the seat. Under her ass, he gently squeezed. "Only I'm hoping I get it for free."

"Paul I'm trying to rest," she snapped irritably and turned so her face leaned against the window and her hip was pressed into the seat. "Keep those hands on the wheel before you wrap us around a telephone pole..."

"Hmmm? What? I've got it under control. Since when have you had the intestinal fortitude to resist my sexual charms?"

"well they say that those that live fast die the hardest..." she snapped. "Are you trying to kill us?"

"Is it a crime to want to snuggle with my beautiful talented woman?" he laughed.

"No but it's a crime to end up in a car accident..."

"OK, is it me, but are just a bit pissed off right now? Apparently at me..."

"Now why would I be pissed off?" she asked sarcastically.

"I don't know. We just had a great party at your wildly successful art exhibit and when I go to make my move, someone I'm getting the cold shoulder."

"Well, Paul... I guess I'm just not scintillating company. Not like those certain women of the NYC persuasion inside.

"Tryn, now what are you talking about?"

"Paul, am I really beautiful?" she asks. "I mean seriously...."

"What???? Where is THIS coming from?"

"I mean is it me the people see or just my art?"

"Tryn, FIRST off, the only person who needs to be paying attention to your looks is ME. You're mine. Secondly, you are drop-dead gorgeous in my book. Thirdly, would I be in this car with you right now, trying to feel up your leg if I was not attracted to you?"

"Well it's not you that I'm worried about Paul..."

"Sex for sex's sake. That's Geno's gig. Not mine" Paul waved a hand.

"I know that, and you know that..." Trynia choked, angry tears burning her eyes.

"Ok. lady, spill it. There's someone else at the party you were trying to impress?" Paul demanded. "And if so.....if this person exists....why exactly are you actually all bent out of shape at ME?"

"Well tell me why is it that all the women in Hollywood are below a size six then? I am beginning to consider that perhaps I should... well... consider alternatives..."

"Alternatives, like what? Giving up food? Gene tried that. It didn't work"

"No Paul... surgery... I mean what's the harm in it..." She said slowly. "I mean I see Cher and she's had a few tweaks here and there... and there are many others who have had fat liposuctione doff..."

"Whoa......wait a minute. Wait just a minute, damn it. Where did this come from? We left the house and you were happy as hell to be going to your exhibit. We have a hell of a time, wine and dine the whole town, and suddenly you don't think you are adequate. If ANYTHING, you should be on top of the world right now."

"I mean... when a man grows old, he's distinguished, and people don't' hound him about a few gray hairs... but if a woman starts to go gray... or if she gains ten pounds... she's something less then desirable..."

"Do you know how many women would just kill to be you?"

"Yes... that's the problem. Because I just don't look the part..."

"I'm a size 18 woman in a size 6 world..."

"Huh. I think I just pieced this thing together."

"An alien... a freak..."

"I'm thinking I started to catch a cold chill right about the time we bumped into Rochelle." Paul sighed.

"Why is it okay on Drew Carey... that he is a fat man with a skinny girlfriend...." she began, but Paul cut her off. "But god forbid Rosie O'Donnel has a skinny sexy love slave!"

"Tryn, you are FAR from fat. Do you hear me?" Paul said, slipping his hand up her thigh slowly.

"You think that, and Gene thinks that. But the rest of the world... especially the entertainment world doesn't, Paul..."

"Hon, let me teach you a hard lesson I learned years ago. If you try to compare yourself physically to the perfect, unblemished toothpicks out here, you'll go nuts."

"Yes, because they have the money to change their appearances..." Trynia shot back.

"You never answered my question, don't forget. Is this because of Rochelle?" Paul demanded.

"I can't put anything past you, can I?" Trynia sighed, looking out into the late night-lights of the city.

"No, you can't. You have a habit, which always gives you away, sweetie. When you're upset you either turn away or get quiet."

"Sh**t you know me too well..." she cursed.

"And then it's up to me to guess. So I'm guessing." Paul said.

"I don't mean to seem shallow... but I just don't feel like I'll ever fit in..." she muttered, wiping condensation off the window with a manicured fingertip. "All I have are my talents... to make me stand out... when I'm painting I feel beautiful, indestructible... But when I'm there amidst people like her... I feel... inadequate."

"OK, I'll ask the damn question for you.....'Yes, Paul, I am jealous over Rochelle. She's stunningly gorgeous and apparently from your conversation, I gathered that you banged her once or twice'." Paul said, voice rising in volume. "And here. I'll answer for myself...."

Trynia looked away in shame as he continued his diatribe, "Yes, Trynia, I did go out with her, but that was years ago, when I was into the club scene. Remember "I Was Made for Loving You?" It was around that time, and I wrote it for her."

"Yes, I do remember that song... but I didn't think about her as the inspiration..." she said slowly.

"Well, she was. She was young as hell, too. Barely 18. And she was perfect. God, she was perfect. But you know what....."

"What?"

"By the time her modeling career went south, she decided it was time for the surgeon's knife. Last I heard she'd gone through it at least 3 or 4 times."

"Well... then she did what many do to maintain their looks..." she said.

"She also was borderline bulimic when we went out, not that that was as well known as it is today."

"OH god..." Trynia gasped sharply. Only the dull roar of passing traffic sounded in that minute that seemed an eternity for her to take in the reality of his words.

"No, Tryn, she didn't. She did it because her career was fading fast and she was desperately looking for a way to fit in. That line of work is terrible for people getting older," Paul said.

"It was for her career then, that she did it."

"I've dated picture perfect women before, and some were great and some were boring as hell." Paul admitted.

"And to me, if they are boring as hell, it's just not worth it"

"Why go for them?" Trynia asked.

"I don't know, hon. I was young. Stupid. Full of live, I guess. I didn't know then what I know now."

"I guess I should be lucky then..." Trynia sighed.

"I love you because you're REAL, Trynia Merin." Paul said, gripping her hand tightly. "I've had the fashion models. I'm no longer interested"

"100%"

"And you know what? You should have pride in yourself." Paul continued. "Besides, you see me here trying to grope ROCHELLE in the car?"

"No..."

"FIRST off, I don't want her. Not at all. I want you. Second of all, I don't think her football star husband would take too kindly to that."

"Oh god..." she groaned. "She's married? I am so dumb sometimes..."

"I must drive you crazy with my jealous fits."

"If you had NOTICED and paid attention, instead of hiding your head with a pout worthy of myself, you would have noticed him come over and put his arms around her." Paul said. Trynia bit her lip and sighed, because she was ashamed of being so shallow

"I've just decided something...." Paul announced.

"What?" Trynia asked.

"We're going to make a new Eisen-rule....."

"What?"

"From now on, when I make you mad, instead of you giving me the shy treatment, I want you to speak up and tell me. I WANT you to come up to me and say, 'Paul, you insensitive ass, quit chasing skirts and come over here.'"

"All right then." Trynia nodded.

"Because then we can deal with it, OK?"

"Yes, I'm sorry I'm always making you read my mind..."

"Yeah, you are. I have to admit, I'd probably drive myself nuts if I were you. I'm an incorrigible flirt." Paul laughed.

"And you can spank me soundly if I step out of line..." Trynia laughed back, tension releasing in Paul's smile and twinkling eyes that glanced over at her.

"Well, now I just might change that rule now...." Paul smiled. "Eisen-rule #2 -- Stepping out of line is mandatory."

"How about #3... be very careful of initiating sex in a moving vehicle..." Trynia asked him.

"Hmmmmmmmmm. What's the punishment if I break that one?"

"Well, I just might end up making it VERY difficult for you to drive." She lowered her voice to a sultry tone, reaching over and grasping his hand to place on her thigh.

'I'm feeling very insubordinate where that rule is concerned." Paul smiled, and felt her own hand reaching over to slip up and down his knee, then steadily upwards with each stroke. "Hey, now sweetie. Some leniency here, please. I AM wearing leather pants you know"

He whispered, "Baby, I don't think they taught about THIS during drivers Ed."

"Does this have cruise control?" Trynia asked.

"Ohhhhhhh, yes," Paul breathed as she brushed her hand over the front of his pants for a second, then rubbed his belly sensually.

"You might want to make use of it... or else keep at least one hand on the wheel..."

Paul was half joking, half-amazing at what she was doing now, her hands dancing over his body. She unclipped her seat belt and leaned over to blow in his ear, her hand on his hip.

"Tryn, are you going to....." Paul breathed at the feel of her breath in his ear, and her breast pressing against his arm as she rubbed his chest. Slowly her hand reached down and rubbed over his need. "Ohhh god," he groaned.

Trynia drew back, winking as she leaned over and rubbed her cheek against his chest. Paul stopped her to tilt the steering wheel up and out of the way. It was becoming obvious he might need to pull over very soon. Fortunately, there was a solution nearby. In the form of a parking garage near Virgin Records.

"Ummmmmm, sweetheart, let's just head right over here. The guy is a friend of mine anyway and you can have me alllllll to yourself."

"Isn't this like the big boss man, abusing privileges!" she laughed.

"Ohh I'm gonna abuse some now!" Paul smiled, and patted his lap. "Why don't you sit in my driver's seat baby?"

Paul purred, "Mmmm hmmm. I think I remember something in our employment contract with him, saying he offers to provide services in "all other areas". And this, my doll, looks like a FINE area to be serviced."

Trynia whispered, and reached down to unclip his seatbelt, saying, "Well it's it full or self?"

"Uh, I would say I'm going to need all the help I can get." Paul whispered. "So better make that full"

"Regular or unleaded?" Trynia whispered, stroking her tongue down his earlobe. She sucked on the earring in his left ear, letting her chest breast across his for a moment before pulling away.

"Oh, God, babe, pedal to the metal." Paul moaned, reaching for her.

"Or shall I check all your fluids?" she laughed. After popping your hood?

"Mmmm, please, please, please?" Paul whispered.

"But one rule... you have to keep your hands to yourself. This is a delicate servicing..."

"Ohh baby, I don't want to disrupt that," Paul whispered.

Trynia whispered hoarsely, "We may be in your friend's parking lot, but tonight my LOVE, you'll be calling ME by the name of Master!"

Paul's heart pounded faster in his breast, on the knifes' edge between sanity and full pleasure. His skin erupted into tingles at the touch of her breath on his neck. Slowly she unbuttoned his shirt, kissing after each with a soft lick on his bared chest. Rubbing up and down his thighs she purred, "Mmm all leather upholstery..."

Paul felt her lean into his lap, brushing her breasts against him to snake her hand down at his right hip. Reaching for the seat lever, she tipped it back, and Paul groaned, reaching for her blouse. Trynia leaned up and shook a finger at him, scolding, "Did I SAY you could do that?"

"Umm," Paul groaned. She pushed him down and began to nibble his neck, taking a fold of skin between her teeth and sucking on his flesh. Moving over she lay down on top of him, wrapping her arms around him on the seat and positioning herself on his lap.

"I love the feel of fresh leather upholstery, and soft, form fitting seating," she whispered in his ear. Plunging her tongue into his mouth she seized the sides of his face and kissed him.

"Mmm," Paul groaned between their fused lips. Reaching under her, lips still gliding over his she unbuttoned his shirt and started to tug it out of his waist. He wriggled out of his jacket as she pushed it off his shoulders. Firmly she held both his hands in hers, kissing a path down his chest.

Suddenly she moved up off of him and returned to her seat. Paul waited in tense anticipation, his adrenaline screaming through his body. Inside his breast his heart pounded fiercely, and the car was as confining as the leather pants that held his need so tightly in place. Frustration added to his hunger when she watched the expression on his face at that moment.

"Wait a minute! Where are you going, my pretty little tease?" he asked with a grin.

"I forgot some vital tools of the trade..." she whispered back.

'I thought I was edible." Paul pouted, hoping to wear down her resistance. She laughed deeply and leaned back in her seat.

"I need the right size wrench..." she whispered hoarsely, leaning over to brush his lips with hers again before continuing down. Kissing his belly again she worked and stopped just above his belt buckle. Paul gritted his teeth at hot breath warming the leather just covering his crotch. Firmly she snared his hands in hers, and held them fast. Soft hair tickled his belly as Trynia drew her tongue over the cold metal of his belt buckle. She probed it in the darkness, feeling how to best approach the task of undoing it with her mouth.

"Aww damn," he laughed. "Are you looking for the right size?"

She stopped, glancing up to say, "Paul Stanley, I've had enough of that infernal pouting. I'm taking you home without any dessert."

"NOOO!" he cried playfully, freeing one hand and grabbing the back of her neck. He pushed her down into his lap again.

Again, she returned to slip her tongue along the belt's one end and grip it with her teeth. Moving her head to one side, she slid the end out of the belt loop. Paul's hand guided her but she ignored it with a shrug. Again her hand gripped his and held it to the back of her neck. Her teeth fumbled at the metal of the belt buckle itself and she finally grabbed the loop that the tab was caught into, tugging on it hard. The action caused Paul to jerk his hips playfully. Snaking his other hand out of hers, he reached down to help her rip the belt apart, but she looked up again.

"No way... no interference..."

Paul laughed, "Let me guess. You weren't much for parking in high school!"

"If my parents even suspected I was doing this I'd be locked in my room till I was 30!" she whispered back, raising her head. "Damn this is a LOT harder then it looks."

"Only if they lock me in there with you, baby!" he joked. Then Paul realized she was going to pull away again, and he apologized, "I'm sorry Tryn. Please... keep going and take your time. I want a thorough checkout.... remember?"

"You're such a critic Paul!"

"No, sweetheart, NO! You're doing.....uh.....great...." he said breathlessly.

"Whoever invented belts was thinking of sexual torture," she laughed. Finally she worked the strap out with her tongue and teeth, and pulled it out and to the side.

He groaned, "It's my own damn fault. Not like leather pants were going to fall down without it!"

Trynia didn't answer, for she had the other half of the belt in her mouth. Her tongue probed around for the button, blasting his belly with hot moist breath again. He desperately wanted to bulldoze into her ministrations immediately to undo the snap for her, but she wouldn't let him.

"OH wait," Paul gasped, snapping his head up. "I thought I saw someone..."

"You're kidding right?" Trynia looked up.

"As a matter of fact yes," Paul laughed.

"You're awful," she pouted.

"No no, just keep on letting me corrupt your virgin soul..." he laughed. Again she leaned down and tried to grip the edge of his fly at the top with her teeth to tug at the button. It was a very dark car, and she realized that the button had no edges but was in fact a snap! With a jerk of her head, she undid the snap with a loud pop that seemed to resound in the car.

The snap was followed by a loud electronic rendition of Rock and Roll all night. Paul felt some relief as she grabs it in her teeth and pulls the halves apart, but moaned as he reached for the phone and punched the hand's free setting.

"Hello, Paul?"

"DAMN, Gene. He have f***cking radar or something?" Paul gritted under his breath, and shut the off button. Trynia traced her tongue in the fold of his fly, probing the zipper as she eased the tab up. She gripped it between her teeth and tugged downwards. Again, the phone shrilled its cadence into the shivering sexual tension crackling in the small space. With a grunt of annoyance Paul reached for the button, slipping his hand from Trynia's head to reach the Hands Free again.

"Hey, Paulie! How was the show? You guys have fun?" Gene's voice burst over the speaker.

"Simmons?" Paul breathed.

"Yeah?"

"We're trying to RIGHT NOW!" Paul shouted, and ended the call with a definitive click. Trynia looked up, teeth on the zipper.

He whispered, "Trynia, I love you. What do you want? I'll give you anything. You're the best. Did I mention I love you?"

His only answer was a nod as she jerked the zipper the rest of the way down. For a moment she caught her breath and looked up to mutter, "Damn you have to say that now... and I can't think of a DAMN thing..."

Paul's hand reached her neck again, and urged her downwards. It was a relief shared by both when her breath seeped over the soft cloth of underwear, and she began to tease it downward with her teeth on the waistband. Paul shifted his hips, trying to help shimmy out of them or at least shift them to one side. Against his thighs, her breasts heaved with her panting, surging in hot waves over his rising excitement. Was it cheating when she reached down to push the underwear aside and ease him out of the confines? Paul decided she needed some breaks after all. Desperately he stabbed the buttons on his CD player to cue up some mood music.

"Your hand..." she groaned. "On my neck... Ohhh... stop that... I'm going as fast as I can... Sweetie, I can't do this very easily when you...."

"Oh? What? Uh. Sorry, love," Paul moaned, panting heavily now. The sound of the CD player clicked, and she heard a bass tone cutting through, followed by a familiar Bruce riff.

"I was dead to the ages, chained snakes to their cages, I have seen you eat your own..." came Gene's voice in a low growl.

Slowly her tongue glided over his shaft, working it up and out of his pants gingerly. It was difficult to slip her lips over his enlarged tip, pressing down on his thighs with her both hands now.

"I'm the cycle of Pain in a 1000 year old rage... I'm suicide and salvation, the omen to nations, that you worship on all 4s, the infection and famine, that's knocking at your door...."

"Oh god!" Paul groaned. "Take your time... please... ohhhhh..."

"That's why you're feelin so... UNHOLY......"

Paul's groans increased in pitch and intensity as the song continued. Trynia's soft tongue and mouth made a firm hot container for his own hardness. Soft moistness surrounded him, massaging, working and licking as she worked him to frenzy. He arched his back, bottom coming off the seat.

"I am the incubus I lay the egg in you... the worm that burrows through your brain... but you are the beast that calls me by my name!!!"

"Damn Gene, you'll never believe... uhhh... I'm getting it on to this damn song..." Paul groaned.

Reaching up she clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his next moan. His cries were sweet passion, inflaming and igniting her own. Paul's eyes were closed in the sweet savoring of the fire that surged from her breath to every part of his body. It seemed a thin layer of heat tingled the skin just beneath his clothes. The hand poised on the back of her neck snaked into her hair, rubbing it. Hips thrust up, into her mouth.

"Oh, God, Trynia, Oh, God, Oh, God..." he groaned when she pulled her hand free. Fingers twined in her locks, squeezing and kneading her hair as she continued to slip her mouth around him.

"Oh god my neck is KILLING me," she whimpered, pulling herself off him for a moment, and laying her head on his lap.

"Please, baby...." Paul begged, rubbing her neck. 'Oh, please baby, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop!"

"I don't know if I can," she whimpered.

"Please baby. For me!" he begged. Slowly he rubbed and massaged the cramps from her neck, and she slipped him inside her mouth again.

Soft moans increased, till Paul felt himself on the verge of sheer pleasure. He could not hold out a minute longer. Right before he felt himself ready to come, he whispered to her, "Trynia, I love you!"

She groaned, her head trapped by his hand on the back of her neck. One last time he pushed up, the tip of him caressing her throat and she felt the hot liquid spurting over her tongue, bitter at first. She pressed against his thighs backing up a bit till he was midway on her tongue to swallow the milk of his passion. Many times before she could spit the passion out and simply withdraw, but with leather around her, she could not afford to ruin it. This time she had to swallow and absorb it all. Like a child swallowing bitter medicine, she gulped him down.

His hand still forced her into place, till she gasped and he whispered, "Baby, ohhhh I love you... you don't have to swallow it all..."

"I..." she choked, catching what she could in her hands as it started to dribble down her chest.

"Oh come here," Paul begged, and tugged her to a sitting position. Tenderly he reached to pull her into his lap, and lay down on top of him again. He whispered for her to kick off her shoes, and reached up her dress slowly to pull at her panties. Tugging them down he helped her to work them off, and then bend her knee to help her straddle him again, and slip inside her.

"Mmm there we go, baby. It's my turn to drive this time," he purred, enjoying the feel of himself inside her now. She moaned at his softness inside, spent yet rubbing sweetly there. He rocked his hips under her, knowing that soon he would return to action and drive her wild this time.