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Alone I Clench My Gun; James/Fran meet and date: 1989-1996
Topic Started: October 31, 2010, 1:19 am (8,139 Views)
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4everJamie
February 16, 2011, 4:37 am
As I can see that writing cap worked pretty good :biggrin

I like Fran´s dad and the fact that James feels uncomfortable in his presence...that´s so funny :lol:
Their reunion? Well...you know that I loved that :drool :drool :wink
But I guess it was a little to easy for James to win her over again - BUT who can blame Fran :rolleyes: I couldn´t have resisted either :lol:

:tu: can´t wait for more :D
If it seems a little too easy for him to win her over, it's because she's doing what she thinks he wants her to do! :rolleyes: (i.e be easy!)
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4everJamie
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kirks_wife
February 16, 2011, 4:48 am
If it seems a little too easy for him to win her over, it's because she's doing what she thinks he wants her to do! :rolleyes: (i.e be easy!)
I know..I didn´t mean that in bad way, you know :(
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4everJamie
February 16, 2011, 5:00 am
kirks_wife
February 16, 2011, 4:48 am
If it seems a little too easy for him to win her over, it's because she's doing what she thinks he wants her to do! :rolleyes: (i.e be easy!)
I know..I didn´t mean that in bad way, you know :(
I know! :D :wavey
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Scorpion Flower
February 16, 2011, 7:07 am
So, now hey are back again. Let's see how James behaves. :)

Bad...I bet!!! :lol:
:lol: :biggrin :heart: :rolleyes:
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Mr Tomasi had kept a keen eye on his daughter’s boyfriend, he wasn’t sure about his long mass of tangled blonde hair and black leathers, he was sure this kid was trouble. But James had kept to his promise bringing Francesca home every evening by 10pm, and slowly he was building a trusting rapport with her father. This Saturday evening as James knocked on their door with Francesca on his arm, Mr Tomasi smiled as James delivered his only daughter home once more.

‘Goodnight’ James kissed her softly and she smiled, blushing as she curled her blonde hair behind her ear. His hand broke from hers as she stepped across the threshold, accepting her father’s silent acknowledgment as he closed the door kindly on James.

The following night, they sat in James’ brown valliant parked outside her house. It was 9:45pm and they didn’t have long before Francesca was due home. In the back seat, James’ hands smoothed the lengths of her bare thighs and rounded her ass with his hands as she sat nude in his lap, with only her dress collected around her middle. His bare chest--adorned with a few stray blonde curls around his collar bone--was tight and muscular and he had enjoyed every minute of frantic sex with her that evening in the back seat. Her body still rolled in his lap after his fast rush and they panted together in success; it was hot inside the car with the windows steamed over.

‘Darling?’ he spoke through their heavy kisses.

‘I want to ask your dad if you can come with us on tour’ he revealed. She stopped, breaking from his lips with concern spreading across her face. James read her reluctance.

‘He made me promise I wouldn’t work for the band again’ she explained slowly. James’ hopeful eyes wondered if he could persuade her.

‘But this tour’s gonna be huge!’ he pleaded. ‘I want to spoil you’ he tried convincing her by running his fingers down her neck and brushing her hair over her shoulder. She smiled, she knew the black album tour with Guns n’ Roses was going to be an enormous undertaking.

‘Don’t work for us again then’ he tried, ‘Come on tour with us as my girl?’ He waited a minute for his words to sink in. His eyes trailed the smooth curves of her bare breasts in front of him with a smile.

‘Okay!’ she kissed, she had really only pretended to hesitate. She smiled into his happy mouth kissing him over and over. James’ excited hand reached for himself in pleasure. He tugged his hard dick, begging with his eyes for her to help him.

‘Once more, before you turn into a pumpkin?’ he whispered. Francesca rubbed her fingers over the steamy window to reveal her house, with the lights on in the kitchen inside. Her father was most certainly waiting for her return.

‘Fuck yes!’ she moaned happily as James lifted her by the waist onto his firm erection once more. She repeated her skilful grinding in his lap, watching his face contort blissfully. His mouth dropped open once more, and he growled as his hips buckled hard. Her soft screams harmonised with his.

They redressed awkwardly in the car, pulling on his jeans as best he could. He slid her knickers back up her legs, his mouth not breaking from hers. He didn’t want to leave her now, he wanted to spend all night with her. He hated her 10pm curfew but accepted it; he knew he was lucky her father permitted her to see him at all.

The evening air was much cooler than inside the hot car. James stepped out after her, running his hands through a mass of sweaty hair. Their rendezvous was a giveaway: James was still achingly hard in his jeans, and Francesca’s face was flushed: her hair stuck knowingly to her skin. James offered her his arm graciously, and delivered Mr Tomasi’s only daughter up the steps to the front door.
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4everJamie
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Some Kind Of Monster
[ * ]
Mr Tomasi had kept a keen eye on his daughter’s boyfriend, he wasn’t sure about his long mass of tangled blonde hair and black leathers, he was sure this kid was trouble.
This first sentence made me laugh so much! :lol:

‘Come on tour with us as my girl?
Aww :heart: :D

Steamy windows, huh?
That was really naughty :biggrin :tu:

:nanner: Gimme more! :biggrin
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4everJamie
March 17, 2011, 4:22 am
Mr Tomasi had kept a keen eye on his daughter’s boyfriend, he wasn’t sure about his long mass of tangled blonde hair and black leathers, he was sure this kid was trouble.
This first sentence made me laugh so much! :lol:

‘Come on tour with us as my girl?
Aww :heart: :D

Steamy windows, huh?
That was really naughty :biggrin :tu:

:nanner: Gimme more! :biggrin
Thank you!!

More up now! :nanner:
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Montreal, Canada. August 8th, 1992.

Francesca stood backstage watching the band through a gap of heavy amplifiers. She sat on the edge of a travelling case, obscured from view. She could see just enough of the stage to track James: his blonde hair came into view as her moved around the stage, and she smiled at the sight of him.

It was a cold evening in Montreal, and clouds of hot steam rose from vigorous audience. The roar was accentuated as they began Master of Puppets, and the crowd jumped wildly along. Between songs, James ran panting backstage. They had only a brief moment, his guitar was lifted from his shoulders by his tech, and for a few precious seconds he kissed her lips warmly. His were salty with sweat and his hair stuck to his face. His hand slipped hungrily into his own jeans pocket as he kissed her, wishing he had more time.

‘Gotta go!’ he winked with a quick kiss. He ran back onstage lifting his guitar over his shoulders.

The band started the melancholy Fade To Black. Francesca closed her eyes, this song always took her away. She listened to her boyfriend’s solo, his playing was always so heartfelt, even underneath all of the strength he exuded, she saw it as a front, she knew how soft the real James was, what he could really be...She reminisced along with the lyrics: ‘Life it seems to fade away, drifting further everyday’...

She had closed her eyes in the darkness before there was a loud explosion. A vicious fireball had made her jump, it was unexpected in the middle of this song...the music had stopped, something wasn’t right, and she could no longer see James standing at the mic...

Kirk’s scream made her chest tighten and her own heart burst into a panic. She heard Lars’ frantic call for James, he had run from his seat behind the drumkit out of her line of sight to the far right of the stage. She felt the urge to find him to, to run onto the stage, but Gio had pulled her back.

‘Get back! Stay here!’ he shouted and she did what she was told, her body shook in terror. The amps buzzed loudly and the crowd was frantic with what they’d just witnessed, when she herself had still not seen. She saw James' wooden explorer lying on the stage without him. Kirk was bent down to his knees inspecting the remains of the guitar, Francesca could make out the dark handle of wood, still flaming from the heat.

She screamed out loud covering her face with her hands in horror, the reality had hit her: he had been caught in the explosion! She wanted to see him! Where was he, and where was Lars?! Gio’s strong arms held her back forcefully from running onto the stage. At that moment, Lars emerged with two security, leading James from the stage at a fast run. This time, she was too horrified for her scream to make a sound. The sight of his burnt flesh had shocked her, his face was twisted in pain, and his long blonde hair was still flickering alight. Security had carried him backstage and laid him on the cold concrete floor, and for the first time, Francesca’s trembling face took in the sight of him. Gio made to take the yellow security coat from James’ left arm.

‘No!’ James moaned. It was clear now that he was in more pain than they could have imagined. He roared as Lars made to touch him reassuringly on the shoulder; the backstage crew had called an ambulance.

She pushed past Lars, she had seen his initial reaction. James had covered his own arm protectively, and she thought she knew why. She had seen the charred remains of the guitar Kirk had brought in. She pushed past Lars to her boyfriend’s side, and he moved aside to let her face speak softly to James. The pain obstructed his usual self, he was screaming uncontrollably and rolling on his back to distract from his arm. Only her touch made him still.

‘James, I’m here...it’s okay’ she said. Her voice was stronger than she felt, taking in the sight of his bare burnt scalp and neck. It was clear that his arm was badly hurt. She tried what he had not allowed Gio or Lars to do: she lifted the jacket carefully to see the extent of the damage to his arm. From his elbow to his wrist, the skin was gone. The muscle was strung back in a burnt weave around the exposed bone, and the source of the smell of burning flesh was made clear. She covered his arm once more before he could see, keeping her face as strong as she could for him. She kissed his half burnt mouth reassuringly.

‘It’ll be fine, I promise’ she lied, but he had read the horror on her face. His blue eyes wide with fear, closed suddenly on hers; his face rolling to his side as he lost consciousness with pain.
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She had kept her hands on his pulse from the moment he was lost to the darkness. She knelt with him on the cold floor holding his burnt face carefully in her hands: they had decided not to move him until the ambulance arrived. Lars had shouted in fear at the crew to leave them alone; Kirk was slumped in a sobbing mess on the floor next to Jason, whose face was pale and silent. Kirk’s tech Justin, examined the burnt guitar that had been in James’ hands. The strings were gone—snapped in the moment of the explosion—and only a pale blonde patch of the neck of the wooden guitar remained where his hand had been. James’ burnt fingers protruded from the hem of the jacket covering his maimed arm. Lars’ eyes examined them carefully.

‘Where are Cliff’s rings?’ Lars cried. James’ hand was bare, the sweat band on his arm had been burnt clean off, and the pewter rings normally on his hand were gone, leaving only their naked mark around his knuckle. James was conscious once more: ‘Find Cliff’s ring!’ he yelled to Lars.

Lars ran back onstage and they heard the crowd scream once more. There was mutiny in front of the stage: apparently, not all of them had seen his accident. The angry crowd chanted for more, as Lars searched the stage in a panicked run. When he returned empty-handed, the ambulance had arrived to take his friend. Lars didn’t have the heart to tell James he couldn’t find it: Cliff’s half of their pewter skull pair.

‘Okay man! Don’t worry, we’ll find it!’ Lars called. The three of them knew they now had to front the fans to tell them James was on his way to hospital.

His body was pale and four medics had lifted him onto a gurney. Francesca’s held his untouched hand as they wheeled him towards the ambulance. James’ pain had increased once more, his cries and shouts made the scene chaotic. He thrashed about on the stretcher, fighting with the men holding him down and Francesca pleaded with the medics.

‘Please! Can’t you give him something for the pain?’ They climbed together into the back of the ambulance, she sat to his left and medics on his right. Francesca’s eyes took in the changes to his face: his moustache, beard, hair and eyebrows were all gone. His skin was darkened, bloody and sticky, and his exposed arm was raw and horribly disfigured. Her eyes surveyed the bone, visible between the layers of burnt flesh. It must have been excruciating to experience.

Finally, in the awkward silence she spoke to the medics:‘Do you think he’ll ever play guitar again?’ she asked. They were solemn and hesitated a reply.

‘There’s a chance he could lose his arm altogether’ the medic admitted. Francesca cast a glance to James, who was seemingly sleeping, his pale face hardly recognisable from his burns and the shock. For the first time in recent events that evening, she felt herself well up. Her salty tears fell thick and fast on his wounds and wished she could heal him.

She smoothed his hair and the soft skin on the unburnt side of his chest until he slipped happily into a morphine induced sleep. There was quiet in the ambulance: only the whirring sirens screaming along the freeway could be heard.

When his lids closed, it was the deepest sleep: gentle and painless, the darkness was warm and relaxing. The sensation of Francesca’s hands on his chest was all that held him to this earth. Her softness became light: her voice beckoning him sounded in his mind.

‘James.... James?’ his head shook. No, he was warm and comfortable and he didn’t want to come back. Her hands shook his shoulder more vigorously and this time, his eyelids blinked, and her angelic blonde hair hung over him, and her blue eyes smiled in loving relief at his consciousness. It was then that he knew: this woman had kept him alive. He had been going, drifting towards a warmer, more peaceful place, but she had held onto him in the abyss and delivered him back to where he belonged. He was back in her capable hands. She was his higher power.
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James was doing much better two weeks later: he was sitting up in his hospital bed eating the Steak-burger he had begged Francesca to bring him. She smiled at the sight of him with his appetite back, he’d not moved for the first four days; only groaning painfully and begging for more morphine. His arm was now covered in a thick protective velcro sleeve, and each day, a nurse would come to enact the painful task of cleaning his wound.

Francesca knew he was returning back to his usual self: he was now well enough to flirt with the nurses. That afternoon, a polite French nurse, with long dark hair changed his dressing. His eyes never left the fullness of her chest; to him, it was preferable to seeing the state of his own arm. She leant over his shoulder, moving his torso forward to check his back, and his eyes naughty skirted down the open gape in her white blouse, smiling at the round curves he saw. Francesca had seen his dirty smile, but she was satisfied when the nurse left the room that his eyes returned to her.

James shuffled over in his bed, and patted the white sheets for her to join him. She resumed her place at his side, spooning his body as best she could in the single bed. He lifted his right arm around her shoulders, and held her tight to his good side. He watched her eyes scan his burns. He tilted her chin to his lips with a smile and she kissed his thankful mouth. Her hand settled warmly on his chest.

‘You look so much better today’ she kissed. He smiled.

‘I was so hungry!’ he belched a little after the steak burger and she grinned in disgust.

‘You have steak sauce on your .....” Francesca wiped his bearded chin with the sheet. Her hand returned to his chest and he stroked her hair. James loved having her here with him. She left only to sleep at the hotel; she had kept a bedside vigil every day that he had been in hospital. She started to slide from the bed, and his hand held her waist tighter.

‘Put your legs over me’ he offered. There was so little room for the two of them to get comfortable in a single bed. Francesca carefully swung her legs over his knees and lay more steadily next to him.

‘That’s better’ he kissed. Her head buried into his shoulder and they lay in a tight embrace for a long while. Her face rolled in to his neck, eyes settled on his stubbled throat, and after a long embrace she kissed as his neck, over and over her; wet tongue testing his skin. James’ body roused from a light sleep: Francesca always nuzzled him awake in bed when she was horny. His face turned to hers and kissed her mouth hotly in return. He wanted to taste her, even if he couldn’t have her. His burnt hand reached for hers resting around his middle. She knew it hurt him to move, and her face questioned his touch.

‘Hmm?’ she asked, breaking from his mouth. His injured hand took hers beneath the sheets and begged her to open his boxers. Wrapped in bandages, he couldn’t please himself.

‘Baby, please can you jerk me off?’ he kissed. He didn’t mean to beg but his meaning came through strongly in the desperate tone of his voice. Her slim hand slid slowly between the open cotton folds of his boxers, finding his length already round and excited, anticipating her touch.

‘Oh yeah!’ he kissed. His breath rushed faster almost immediately. It had been two whole weeks in hospital since he’d been able to entertain any pleasurable thoughts with her. Her hand tugged him harder, and her wet mouth kissed at his jawbone while his mouth dropped happily open in short gasps.

‘Oh fuck yeah!’ he breathed hard again with a gasp, her hand rubbing him fast was all he had wanted... His hips squirmed in the bed, unable to sit still under the sensation of hers, her legs smooth and long spread across his lap. She lay curled into his body, her arm reaching across his torso to pleasure him.

His eyes opened to see her: it was deliciously naughty to see her hand moving frantically, underneath the sheet at his groin. He caught her eyes for a moment, and she kissed him hot and fast. His chest rolled in excitement, he was loving her hot game. Once more his heavily bandaged hand reached out to her, this time, brushing at the singlet on her full chest. She was leaning a little over him and he wanted to see more, he wanted to imagine he was coming over her with her beautiful naked chest underneath him.

‘Darling, I wanna see your titties’ he moaned. Her hand left his dick for an impatient moment to slide the thin straps of her singlet down her arms. Her chest popped beautifully out as soon as she did. He took her all in with his eyes.

‘Oh shit yeah!’ he smiled, she looked down at her own nude breasts as she grinned at the beautiful sight. His bandaged hand guided her back to his penis.

‘Please don’t stop’ he panted. The sound of the nurses’ feet down the hallway made her jump and she reached to please him again.

‘What if we get caught!’ she kissed.

‘I don’t fucking care, it’s worth it!’ he moaned. When she reached for him once more he was even harder than before. Her hungry eyes wanted to see how hard he was for her. She slipped the sheet down below his aching groin, to find his dick was hard and reaching nearly to his belly button, swollen and poised on his stomach, begging for her to touch him. Her hand settled on him again beginning to tug him slowly in her palm, teasing him as his chest writhed happily wanting more.

‘Fuck that’s good’ he moaned. His face was flushed red and his chest was pounding for her to see. He groaned deeply as she pulled him faster, his knees bent towards him, his body preparing himself for that delicious rush.

‘Oh fuck yeah, I’m gonna come...’he drawled. His voice lingered softly in her ear, his eyes on her smooth round chest flicking shut as his mouth gaped open in heady delight. Her hand dropped free of him as he climaxed: his groin buckled and he released across his chest, his good hand, leaving her back holding her to the bed to tease the head of his cock the rest of the way. Francesca watched him enjoy his rush with a smile, her lips settling on his face in kind acknowledgment.

When his chest quietened he opened his eyes and turned his face to her with a thankful smile. He kissed his girlfriend over and over and she returned the sheet up his chest to cover his torso once more. His face twisted in pain: his burnt arm throbbed from the rush. Her fingertips softly smoothed the white bandage covering his arm.

‘You’ll have to do that for me again soon’ he grinned.
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Christine
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Frantic
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:drool :drool :drool
Wow! That was hot! My brain just melted from reading this! :drool

More? :biggrin
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Christine
March 25, 2011, 2:26 pm
:drool :drool :drool
Wow! That was hot! My brain just melted from reading this! :drool

More? :biggrin
Of course! There will be lots more, I'm writing them up until their engagement in 1996. :biggrin

Glad you liked it! :heart:

I'm Cheryl, btw, nice to meet you! :wavey
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Christine
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kirks_wife
March 25, 2011, 5:31 pm
Christine
March 25, 2011, 2:26 pm
:drool :drool :drool
Wow! That was hot! My brain just melted from reading this! :drool

More? :biggrin
Of course! There will be lots more, I'm writing them up until their engagement in 1996. :biggrin

Glad you liked it! :heart:

I'm Cheryl, btw, nice to meet you! :wavey


Well in that case I think I love you :lol:
Nice to meet you too, I'm Christine (as you can see)
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:lol: :heart:

Thank you! I appreciate all my readers!

Just thinking about when my story might end....I have written their wedding before (but from Kirk's perspective) so perhaps I could write it again from Francesca's POV... :D So maybe I'll finish there instead!
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Christine
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kirks_wife
March 25, 2011, 7:40 pm
:lol: :heart:

Thank you! I appreciate all my readers!

Just thinking about when my story might end....I have written their wedding before (but from Kirk's perspective) so perhaps I could write it again from Francesca's POV... :D So maybe I'll finish there instead!

If you ask me, the longer the better! I love your writing style and this fic! And it would be nice to see the wedding in Fran's eyes.
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