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Long Cool Woman! (Adult language and situations. uh, pg-13) (1 Viewer)


Senior Member
Alright, and now for something completely different. This is an interactive story. Well, sorta. I need you, the constant reader, to go to your favorite peer to peer file sharing software and download a song before continuing with this story, ok? Yes that’s right, Donovan promotes piracy, big fucking deal. I like to dress up as a pirate sometimes anyway. So I can use the line “who wants to shiver me timbers”. Heh.

Anyways the song is:

Long Cool Woman by The Hollies.

Find it? Ok download it, I’ll wait.

Got it? Good.

Ok. You’d better have downloaded it before continuing past this point. I don’t ask much of you constant reader, but I want you to do this for me. Now don’t play it yet, you’ll need it in a minute.

Picture this:

It’s Sunday night a couple weekends ago and your humble narrator is frequenting a regular watering hole. I do karaoke. Not because I’m Japanese or gay, but because I’m a lame ass who cant dance. My place is Funky Buddha on Whyte Avenue in Edmonton. Nice little place. Typical smoke filled karaoke bar, but it has a nice little upstairs where you can sit down and have a beer without the horrible screeching of the wannabe Britneys and Christina’s making your head hurt.

So it’s a typical Sunday in the smoke filled bar, fairly quiet with short waits to get up and sing as the crowds aren’t huge. The plan was to meet my buddy William there for ten thirty and belt out a few tunes, get liquored up and have his brother pick us up around 12:30 as he lived a couple blocks away.

I showed up around quarter to ten and sat down at a little corner table in the back, facing the door so I could wait for Will. I was about half way through a Kokanee when my cell went off.


“Hey man its me. My brother bailed on us. He was going out with some girl and didn’t want to drive, so I’m just going to call it a night.”

What the fuck? Am I getting ditched here?

“This fucking sucks,” I told him. “So I just came here and I’m half way through a beer for nothing. I wont get tanked, just come down and I’ll drive home.”

I could tell by his avoidance of the solution he was being a slackass and the whole brother line was probably BS, “Nah man, it’s a long drive down, I would have had to leave already. And you know, they close early Sundays. How about next weekend?”

I mumbled something about him being a bitch and hung up.

Ditched? Me? What the shit is this?

I swallowed the last few gulps of beer and reached for my wallet with every intention of paying and going home to masturbate for a while, maybe playing some Halo, and going to bed. Its funny how in moments like this you remember even the smallest details like that. I remember that I had to pee, and that some fat guy was singing “I’m to sexy”. I remember that their were two dykes a table down fondling each other a little. But mostly I remember the way the smoke from the cancer patients at the bar clouded her in a haze as she walked in the front door on the other end of the bar.

She got looks alright. She was of a darker complexion, Mexican, and had even darker eyes. She wore her thick black hair down to just above her butt and had only the trace amounts of make up on, but wore bright red lipstick on very pouty, pretty lips. She had an amazing figure, curvy and gorgeous, the hour glass figure. Her breasts and hips perfectly complimenting a thin waist. Draped over this body was a dress few could pull off. Black and tight, open at the neck and back. Her legs running smoothly into a pair of low heeled stilettos, sexy but comfortable. I liked that.

All I needed was my tongue hanging out of my slack jaw and people would have thought I was retarded. I sat in stunned silence as Beautiful walked gracefully past the stage, taking everyone’s eyes with her and sat down at a table off to the side. She ordered something in a long necked bottle and sipped it slowly. Her slightly better than average friend sat down next to her and the two screamed to each other over the blasting music and browsed the music book.

I gulped hard, needing another drink. I figured I’d probably looked like a big enough fag sitting by myself in the corner and decided to leave. I left a ten on the table and headed to the washroom to piss.

I did my thing (not that kind of thing asshole. I do have will power you know ….Ok, I lie. I jacked the shit out of myself. I mean, she was fucking gorgeous!) and thought I’d get one more look at Beautiful in the long black dress on the way out, when it hit me. Long Black Dress. By the Hollies! I love that song!

I grabbed a music book and flipped through it hoping they had my song. I’ve always loved classic rock, but most karaoke places don’t share my taste in music. I ran my finger down the list.

Hagar, Sammy.
Harrison, George.
Hendrix, Jimi.
Hollies, The.

And there they were. The only Hollies song in the book, Long Cool Woman.

I went and scrawled my name and song down on a request form and handed it to the DJ. I then ordered another beer and went back to my corner table by the dykes where I waited out my song and built up my confidence with mans oldest friend, alcohol.

As annoying bitch after bitch belted out crappy pop and over dressed guys tried to nail the latest Killers or Greenday song, I watched as Black Dress tapped her fingers to the music and looked around, checking out the guys but not making eye contact they may misconstrue as interest. She almost looked shy. Her friend had met a guy and was now at the bar getting loaded and primed for a good fucking, most likely. Black Dress was alone and maybe every guy in the place was as big of a nervous pussy as I was, because no one was approaching.

“Donovan! Donovan, come on up!

I snapped from my daze as the DJ called my name. The adrenaline roared as it always does before the first song when you’re a pussy. My heart was beating quickly and my face felt warm. I took the mic and looked out at the crowd. No one was watching. The older Sunday crowd wasn’t interested in me at all. Black Dress rolled the edge of her bottle on the table and looked bored.

The Hollies started their classic song with a light and slow guitar riff, few probably recognizing the tune at first until the beat changed to a faster one, and the heads of anyone over 35 and people with good taste in music turned to see who was singing.

Alright freeze! This is where I want you to play the song. Do it now! Let er rip and listen to the song from start to finish with your eyes closed while picturing the scene I laid out for you. Its only 3 minutes, don’t be a sticky twat about it.

I was a little nervous doing it, probably not nailing the high pitched voice very well, or getting right into it like a good singer should. But when the line I’d been waiting for hit, it all fell into place. Heads were bobbing and feet tapping. And Long Black Dress was looking up at me with new found interest, her bottle forgotten.

A pair of 45's made me open my eyes
My temperature started to rise
She was a long cool woman in a black dress
Just a 5-9 beautiful tall
With just one look I was a bad mess
'Cause that long cool woman had it all

I tapped my foot and smiled a nervous smile at her as I sang the black dress line and felt my heart jump into my throat as she smiled back during the bad mess bit. My knees shook and I pressed my feet into the ground to steady them.

Well I'm gonna be forgiven
If I wanna spend my living
With a long cool woman in a black dress
Just a 5-9 beautiful tall
With just one look I was a bad mess
'Cause that long cool woman had it all
Had it all, had it all, had it all...

By the end of the song I was high as a kite. I’d nailed it and everyone else in the bar knew it too. As the guitar faded out I got a large round of applause and a slap on the back from the DJ as someone else was called up. I looked over at Long Black Dress who was looking back and thought, this is as good a time as ever. I ran a hand over my face and smiled as I walked over and sat down at her empty table.

“Hi. Mind if I sit down?”

She smiled a full smile between those pretty red lips and replied, “Not at all.”

“I guess I, um, I sang my song uh…”

What the fuck was the matter with me? I do NOT get stuttery and faggy over women. I swallowed hard again and smiled what was probably a bashful smile.

“I liked your song.” she said to me. Jumping in and saving an awkward moment. “The selection was interesting.”

I looked up again, the interest was still there, in her eyes. They gleamed.

“Thanks, I like the classics. You sort of, inspired me I guess.”

She smiled again. Actually, the smile never left her face, it just grew. “That’s cute. My names Elizabeth. You can call me Liz, but not Beth.”

We both laughed.

Liz and I did a lot of laughing that night. We excused ourselves to the bar upstairs where we could talk. And that’s all we did. For hours. We talked about everything we could think of and things that just came to us in the heat of an amazing conversation. We didn’t start with the easy stuff, it was like Liz and I had known each other for years and we jumped right into the deep shit, debating philosophy, religion and politics. She was as intelligent as she was stunning. Which made her all the more beautiful. She aroused me physically and mentally.

One AM rolled around and the bar was closing. We didn’t want to end it. Elizabeths friend had already found her upstairs and said she had to leave, and I had been so wrapped up in conversation I hadn’t had another drink, so I decided to drive us home.

My beautiful girl in the long black dress lived, as it turned out, only ten minutes from me. And as we discussed this fact she asked, “Do you want to,…continue the night at your place or something? I mean, only if you want too.”

Of-fucking-course I did. But, oh shit!

“I have people at my place, I don’t think it’d work.” I said with disappointment in my voice.


She nodded. “Well, you could come by my place. But you have to be extra quiet, my folks are home. But don’t worry, they sleep like the dead, and my rooms in the basement.”

Score!! I was so happy I could have shit.

“Yeah sounds good,” I said in my suavest voice. I was so getting laid tonight.

We parked a block away and walked up the street to her Liz’s place. The lights were all off and she slipped the key into the door and stepped inside. We picked up our shoes and carried them downstairs, Liz leading me by my hand through the dark. A door creaked as we slid through and it closed behind us.

I stood there in the darkness, waiting for Elizabeth to hit a light. She didn’t. Instead she came up beside me and kissed me on the cheek, running one hand down my chest and another down my back. She ran her tongue along my cheek and into my mouth and pushed me a step backwards where I fell onto a big soft bed, Liz climbing up on top of me, keeping her lips pressed tightly against mine.

I had never been harder, my dick strained against the zipper of my jeans. Elizabeth straddled me and pulled the long black dress up around her waist, grinding her pelvis into mine. I ran my hands up and down her smooth legs and felt the arched tips of perky breasts straining against the fabric of the dress. Elizabeth slid her hand under my shirt and ran her finger nails across my chest and stomach, sliding her fore finger back and forth along the line where jeans met stomach. I shuddered with excitement.

She pulled back briefly and whispered into my ear, “Do you want me?”

Yes, oh God yes!

“More than anything,” I replied, feeling her push against me.

Elizabeth pushed in hard again, pressing herself into me, and unbuttoned my pants, sliding the zipper down and feeling me in her hands. She whispered back raggedly, “I want you too.”

She slid down the bed and took me in her mouth. Her mouth rising up and down, and her tongue running along the edges of the tip of my penis. I gripped the bed sheets in my fists and moaned, clenching and unclenching the muscles of my midsection.

“Is it good?” she asked me in the dark.

“Oh yes. Oh fucking God yes.” I said back.

As Elizabeth stroked me with a great hand job, there was a very alarming sound for both of us. A knock on the door.

She immediately stopped and leaped off me. I lay there listening as Liz asked the other side of the door, “Who is it?”

“Its me stupid. Open up,” the voice replied back.

“Oh shit,” Elizabeth replied. “Uh, just hold on. Wait a sec, don’t come in.”

The voice asked why in a concerned voice, and all of a sudden the room exploded in light as a half naked Elizabeth turned on the overhead light. I squinted and covered my eyes momentarily, before opening them and taking in the scene before me.

Elizabeth’s room was pink. The walls, the décor, the drapes over the tiny basement window in the corner. And the bed. The bed was bright pink and purple, and had stuffed animals all along it. There were unicorns, teddy bears and even a Tickle Me Elmo in the corner. Tickle Me Elmo? How old was that shit? Even the bedspread had pictures on it, unicorns and fairies. Above the bed was a plaque that read “Daddy’s Little Princess”.

“Get in the closet, now!” Elizabeth directed me.

I lay there stunned for a moment, absorbing the scene around me.

“Who are you talking to?” inquired the voice behind the door. “I’m coming in.”

The front door opened and I stood trying to pull my pants up and cover my hard on, which still pointed up like the attentive soldier that he is.

Another girl came through the door. Score a threesome, I thought, ever so briefly. This girl looked at me and gasped!

“Who the fuck are you!?”

“I uh, I…”

“And what the fuck are you doing naked in my fifteen year old sisters room??!”

FIFTEEN? Her fifteen year old sisters room?! Oh fucking no!

“You are in so much fucking trouble Lizzie,” the girl hollered as Elizabeth straitened out her long black dress and looked up. She looked a lot younger now, but not fifteen young. Fuck me!

No wait, don’t!

Elizabeth started to cry. She choked out, “Damn it Stacey, I can handle myself, why did you have to come in? I don’t need a big sister right now!”

Stacey turned and looked at me, glaring again. “And how old are you? Like fucking thirty or something?”

“What no, I…” was all I got out.

Stacey screamed, “MOM, DAD! COME QUICK!”


I tried to pull my pants up but one leg was inside out. Instead I succeeded in falling face first onto the floor. I jumped up and started to run, heading for the door. Stacey tried to block me, she was kind of fat and looked maybe twenty, but I bowled her over in a rush of adrenaline that made the nights earlier karaoke experience seem like a walk in the park. She went flying backwards. Ray Lewis would have been proud.

I bolted up the stairs to the front door and pushed through it, past an old fella in a robe who was coming down the stairs and hollered a loud and father like, “What the fucking hell!!”

I think he turned and came after me once he gained his senses. But even barefoot, with one pant leg dragging along beside me and a still half hard dick flopping around in my boxer briefs I made it to the car and pulled the keys from the pocket (THANK GOD! They were there) and took off.

I didn’t look back. Fuck it. I can always buy new shoes.

I shook as I drove home. I’d never been so scared in my life. Fifteen? Fucking fifteen? I still couldn’t believe it. How had that never come up? She had seemed so mature and we had hit it off so well. I thought again of the pink and purple room and shivered.

Oh well. As I sit here today, over two weeks later, I think of it as a lesson learned. A story with a good lesson in all of it. I’ll certainly never make that mistake again. And thank the lord I didn’t lose my keys or wallet or something in her bedroom. I imagine her dad would have killed me and turned me into lawn fertilizer. And hey, I got a blow job from a fifteen year old! Eat that!


Senior Member
probably because no one likes being ordered to do something, in order to read something...

i know i don't!


Senior Member
And especially when the opening reads like the foreword by Stephen King in a collection of his short fiction.

That, and this, as far as I can see, has nothing to do with non-fiction.


Donovan, for what it's worth, I enjoyed the hell out of your story! Hehehe....good one.



Senior Member
i knew the song so I didn't go listen to it because, yes, im a lazy twat.

but this is good writing, and a well told story, and an interesting punchline.

non-fiction? i hope not... though stranger things have happened.

Scott Tuplin

Senior Member
I would've shat my pants if that'd happened to me. Good job you weren't further than a BJ when her sister deciding to "come-a-knocking", huh? lol