Nora's Tale: 6 - Levi's Silver Tongue - Sex Stories

Nora's Tale: 6 - Levi's Silver Tongue

... a chuckle. “Yes, I am,” Levi confirmed. “You have a very perceptive ear, my friend.” The man seemed flattered by this, shrugging the complement off modestly. “How do you know Ray?” “Oh, we met a few days ago. He invited us to come see him play.” Levi’s arm around my waist tightened in indication, and he glanced briefly at me. The doorman’s eyes slid over me quickly, and I had the sense to smile back in acknowledgment. To my relief, there was no suspicion evident in that look. “Alright, go on in,” he said. As we stepped through the door, the man called out, “These two are with Ray.” The girl at the table directly in front of us stamped our hands and waved us through. I walked slowly by Levi’s side until we were a safe distance away, then I let out a breath. “Holy shit!” I whispered. Levi laughed softly. “And no cover?” “Nope,” Levi said, grinning. “The guest-list has its perks.” He sat me down in a booth across from the band, then leaned in to whisper in my ear. “I’m going to get us a drink. How about a little merlot to match those lips of yours?” I wasn’t much a fan of wine, and I told Levi so. “We’re going to have to work on that,” he said with a wink, echoing the same statement he had once made regarding my inability to have back-to-back orgasms. He had won that first battle, and I wondered if he would win this one to. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll bring you a rosé, and if you don’t like it, I’ll get you something else.” I nodded, and Levi patted my hand before he was off ...

... towards the bar. In his absence, I found some time to take in my surroundings. The bar wasn’t very large in my inexpert opinion, but it was filled with an energy of excitement and easy-going fun. This was in part due to the band, which was filling the space with catchy, indie-reggae music, and only accentuated by the dancing crowd – numerous, but not too cramped. I realized that I had been tapping my foot for a while, and itching to get out there myself. I had no doubt that Levi would be willing to dance with me. After scanning the wooden walls and rafters, and the tables fringed with the sort of wooden beads that hung in a hippie’s doorway, my attention was drawn back to the band. One of them must have been Ray, and I wondered who it could be. “Ray is the guitarist,” Levi said, as if reading my mind. He had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and was now sliding in next to me, and placing a glass of clear pink wine before me. “He wants to meet you.” “Me?” I said in surprise. My attention, which had switched over to Levi at his arrival, fell back on the stage. I watched the easy movements of the guitarist – a black man with shortly-cropped hair and bare, muscular arms. Ray had the simple, carefree swagger that I had also noticed in Levi. It was something I had wanted to adopt in my own life, something I wanted a piece of. “Yes, you,” Levi said, light humor coloring his voice. “I told him a bit about you when we met, and he asked me to bring you along sometime.” I couldn’t help but ...