Sonic Seduction

Rand Simonson got the text message late Saturday night.

“Need your help, bud. She’s flippin’ out. No1 wants to help her.”

Rand cracked a smile.

“Probably bc she can’t sing. Took them long enough to figure it out.”

Rand has been in the music business as a vocal coach for 20 years. His hair isn’t as long and flowing as it was in the 80s, but it is still as dark as it was in his yesteryear. All the farm living turned him from being an ultra-thin rocker into someone built stocky like a spark plug.

Bryan was the only other ear Rand trusted. This latest project was going to be tough: Shayla Star, a worldwide pop singer who was well past the peak of her bubblegum material. “She’s trying to be an adult now and turn into a steamy songstress.” No more ponytails, cat-ears and easy key songs. No more neon-colored hair that flew every direction when her long frame would twirl across the stage. She wants to act her age.

First Rand said no, until Bryan sent him a clip of her singing offstage. Rand tried to smile as if he was ready to laugh, but he couldn’t. She didn’t sound bad.

“Yeah. I’ll give it a shot. She better be ready. Tell her what I want, but don’t help her get ready. Either she wants this, or she doesn’t.”

He watched the car drive up while he sat in his rocking chair on the porch. The driver was a lady who looked about ten years older in the face than Rand. The second lady, who was considerably taller, was dressed in low cut jeans and a baggy, black sweater. Her hair was pulled back and had faded streaks of neon pink in between sandy blonde locks. Her green eyes communicated last night was a long one. He wasn’t short, at five-foot-nine, but she looked like an Amazon in his eyes. Her eyebrows were still perfectly plucked. Cheekbones still had make up on from some concert she did two nights ago. He didn’t think she needed it.

They walked up the porch steps and shook hands with Rand. “So you’re Rand! I’m Shayla’s mom. Kathy. Also her manager. Shayla forever. Do you like the shirt? I have one in the trunk.”

“No, thanks.”

Shayla looked at Rand and chuckled. “How sweet of you.”

“Well, it is what it is. But it’s not personal. I just hate the format. So, ready for the test?”

“Uh…”

“Bryan didn’t tell you? Oh, man.” Rand shook his head. “So you probably didn’t lube your throat before you came.”

“Lube with what?”

“Geez. No one tells anyone anything. That’s why I live way out here. No bullshit.” Rand then points behind him. “Except when it’s from my bulls.”

Kathy laughed nervously. “Well, it looks like we’re dealing with a real professional here, Shayla! So, Mr. Simonson, what exactly was she supposed to do?”

“Warm tea. Two tablespoons of honey. It’s the only way to get through my stress test. I know at the end if it’s worth the work.”

Shayla smiles at Rand. She goes to the car, takes something from the center console, and then brings it to the porch.

“It’s not green. It’s white. And I’ve only got one tablespoon of honey to keep my figure. But I hope it’s a good start.”

“Did Bryan give you the wrong recipe?”

“No. I do this on my own. More so the last year. You couldn’t imagine how hard it is to keep singing the same fucking key of C songs over and over.”

“Shayla! Language!” Kathy chided.

“Language, my ass. I’m 30 and I’m not in front of my Shay-lites. That’s the whole problem with all this. I’m done being a girl.”

Kathy took a deep breath. “Well, then. I’ll let you two get to work. I’ll drive back to that small town and get some coffee. How long will this take, Rand?”

“Maybe an hour. Less if she sucks. I’ll know in about ten minutes.”

Kathy left for town. Rand was doing his best not to check out Shayla. He was pushing forty and from everything he saw on the video channels he imagined her as barely a teenager. Up close, though, she was all woman to him.

He got a closer look at her face. “She’s so soft,” he thought to himself. There were little lines around the corners of her eyes, but they added to her new mission of acting her age.

The music studio was a stark contrast. It was almost soundproof with custom drywall and a single microphone in the middle of the floor. A small soundboard room was built into the west wall. It was also simple, with one pair of head phones, an eight-track board, and reel-to-reel tape.

Rand walked behind the glass booth and plugged in various gadgets into the soundboard. Shayla stared at him, standing in front of the microphone. After two minutes she pulled out her smartphone and started to text.

“NO!” a gruff voice shouted through a speaker above her head. It shocked Shayla. She dropped her phone.

“The hell?”

“No phones in here,” Rand said after holding down a button near the soundboard. “Messes with the clarity. All those bells.”

“What if I put it on silent?”

“You’ll just keep turning your neck to stare at it, and you’ll mess up your sound. No phones. And anything else that makes noise.”

Shayla sighed. She opened the studio door and put her phone outside of it. She took her place back in front of the microphone.

Rand pushed a few more buttons and then began giving Shayla instructions over the speaker. For the first minute he told her to inhale and exhale deeply. Then he had Shayla suck in her stomach and push it out 30 times. Then it was ten jumping jacks.

“You winded yet?”

“Not hardly, old man,” Shayla grinned. She performed a front kick and then swept her leg up and higher than her head.

“I’m old? You’re sixty-five in pop star years.”

Shayla frowned because she knew he was right.

“All right. Chin up. And give me a middle C. Hold it for 30 seconds. But you gotta make this ping to past the middle.” Randy pointed up. Shayla’s eyes located a decibel meter just above the glass booth. She started to wail and couldn't quite make it to Middle C.

“Holy hell,” Rand said to himself, not hitting the button. He stepped out of the glass booth and walked to the microphone. Rand put his index finger just under Shayla’s jaw. He pressed against it gently. “Chin up. You’re tilting it down to look at the meter. How tall are you anyway?”

“Five-eleven. “Six-two in boots.”

“I see. Well, can you take those off?”

“Yeah.”

She slipped off her small, black boots and put them in the corner of the room. Shayla walked back to the microphone and noticed she had a closer look at Rand’s face. She liked the lines around the corners of his lips.

Rand and Shayla went through 45 minutes of vocal tests for range and strength before he shut down the studio. He opened the door for Shayla, who grabbed her boots and sweater. She looked at her phone and saw Kathy had texted her three times. She wasn't ready to go, and put her phone in her pocket.

Rand led Shayla back to the living room where she sat on the couch and drank his tea. He got on his laptop and plugged in the headphones. He didn’t say anything to Shayla for ten minutes. He just kept nodding his head and occasionally glancing at her.

“Well, you’re no fun,” she said, thinking he wouldn’t hear her.

“I’m tons of fun,” he said in a deadpan tone. He wouldn’t take his blue eyes off the screen.

“What are you listening to, anyway? It must suck if you can hear me.”

Rand motioned her to come over. Shayla put the tea down on the coffee table.

“Put this on.” She put on the headphones. Rand pressed “play.” Shayla’s face wrinkled, and then relaxed. “That’s me?” she asked.

“Yeah. You. In the raw. That’s what I do. I listen over and over. I use my ears to hunt every little thing. You’re voice isn’t perfect. It cracked a little in the beginning and end of every note I had you hold. But it’s strong. So this is what it sounds like when it’s only your voice. No other sounds to drown it out. No extra honey.”

Shayla took the headphones off and turned away. She sniffled.

“Sorry,” she said, before wiping away a tear. “I haven’t heard myself in years. Not like that.”

“Well,” Rand said. “Either you can sing or you can’t. You can definitely sing. So what’s your big plan? No more kid shit? Why are you here?”

Shayla sipped her tea and sighed. “In two years, I want to sing adult music. Adult. Like fucking sexy shit. But not for kids or boys. For men. And women. Like some of what Gaga does, but more full, less show."

“Okay. Shayla. It won’t be easy. But you have the chops for it. Something you have to think about before you come back here.”

“What’s that?”

“You can’t sing sexy if it ain’t quite in you yet."

Shayla wanted to be mad, but she resigned to his thoughts and nodded.

Kathy finally pulled up and honked the horn.

“Thanks. Thanks for bringing me out.” Rand stuck out his hand to shake hers. Shayla hugged him. Her cheek grazed against his. He could smell the lavender he didn’t smell before. She liked the sandalwood scent on his collar. Shayla pulled away from the hug but lingered into his eyes for a few seconds. The last thing she expected today was to be attracted to her vocal coach. He’s not that much older, but it just felt weird.

Shayla and Rand spent two nights a week for three weeks working on strengthening her voice. He liked that she was curious. He didn’t mind answering anything she asked about production or breathing techniques. It was a welcome to him for a pop star to give a shit, even if just a little.

But she was still frustrating to him. Rand would give her songs to work on at home but she wasn't following his instructions.

She was supposed to sing “Giving Him Something He Can Feel.” But when she reached the chorus and went full throttle, Rand dropped the soft approach. He took his headphones off and marched out of the booth.

“Geezus, you think you’re a soul singer? You’re not. Belting them doesn’t make you a better singer. Singing does. Why are you belting this over and over? Every night now?”

“Because that’s what’s working out there now. And I’m strong enough to do it. You know it!”

They shouted back and forth until Shayla gave up and called Kathy to pick her up.

"Figures the little girl was still here, calling mommy."

"Fuck you, old bastard!" She slammed every door on her way to the front porch.

In 45 minutes, Shayla was gone.

After dinner, Rand went back to the living room where Shayla was last, and fired up his PC. Rand put his headphones on and started listening to her vocal recordings from the last weeks. He liked the progression. He liked that she was willing to try new songs, more adult songs, in many ranges. He played and studied her tracks for an hour before he headed towards the back of the house and into his bedroom.

Rand had barely taken his house slippers off when he heard it: a car horn. It was that tan sedan.

“The hell?” he said to himself.

Rand put his slippers back on, walked through the hallway, and unlocked the door. He smelled the lavender again. Maybe it was her lotion.

He sighed. “Ten minutes. 1st verse through the chorus of “Feel.” If it isn’t right, please don’t come back ever. I’m supposed to fucking be asleep right now.”

“Whatever. Put some warm milk on when we’re done.” Shayla walked past him to the studio. He couldn’t help but look at her ass when she passed him.

Shayla took her place in front of the microphone after laying her coat down. Rand went into his usual position in the glass booth. Shayla stared at him as he turned the knobs and powered everything up.

When she reached the chorus, she closed her eyes and sang the line just as he wanted her to. Rand let out an audible “yes!” and a fist pump before he cut the backing track.

“THAT is it!” Rand asked her to do a second take.

Once Rand began the backing track, Shayla pointed her finger at Rand and motioned him to come closer while she sang.

He obeyed. Shayla moved the microphone stand out of the way and placed a hand inside his robe and onto his back. She pulled him in and tilted her head down to kiss him full on the lips.

Rand kissed her back, putting his hands on her hips.

“Let me give you something,” she said.

Shayla knelt down and undid Rand’s robe tie. He was wearing a pair of boxers, but his penis had already become erect and pushed through the boxer’s opening.

Shayla brushed back her blue-dyed hair and gripped the head of his penis with her index and forefinger. She pressed her lips against the head. She kissed it again, feeling it throb, and then opened her mouth slightly to let her mouth take it.

“Oh, fuck,” Rand moaned. He put his fingers just behind her ears, but didn’t pull her in. Rand knew she wanted to do the work. And Shayla worked it. She was comfortable in bare feet, leather pants and squatting to pleasure Rand. She wanted him up and stiff as soon as she could get him there. Shayla alternated from licking Rand’s shaft to sucking on the head. It grew him like a sprouting oak, and almost as hard.

His member was not particularly long, but it had a wide girth. She traced her tongue on all sides of it. Then Shayla spiraled her tongue from the bottom of the shaft to the top. She bobbed her head twice, putting his entire penis in her mouth and closing on it tighter with just her wet lips. He was pre-cumming. Shayla stood up and looked at Rand, as if she sought his approval.

“Damn, girl,” Rand exclaimed. Rand kissed her neck and unbuttoned her shirt. It didn’t take him much time to unhook her satin black bra to expose her full breasts. 'B-cup and perky,' he thought to himself.

Rand slipped off Shayla’s shirt while he kissed her. When she unbuttoned her cuffs to free her hands, Rand grabbed them and pulled the sleeves close to his hips. He used the shirt and his strong hands to spin Shayla around so that her back was now on the booth.

Rand looked at her rose pink nipples and licked the tips. He squeezed her breasts together and started licking and kissing the cleavage he created. Shayla pushed the rest of his robe off and inched down her pants while Rand continued to maul her breasts. He stroked her nipples with his fingertips.

“Ahhh,” she moaned. “Every time. That gets me every time.” Rand’s boxers were at his ankles now.

“When was the last time?” he asked in between strokes from his tongue.

“Ahh…uh…a year ago? Sorry, you’re doing this really good. Fuck!” He cupped his fingers underneath them, lifting them a little while he kissed every inch. She tingled every time he nibbled just above her nipple.

Shayla wasn’t wearing any panties, so it made her next move even easier. Shayla guided his head away from her breasts. She exhaled and smiled at Rand. She put her fingertips on his right shoulder to guide Rand down. Shayla put one calf on his shoulder and then a hand underneath his arm to pull him up. All those years of dancing on stage made her flexible enough to do this without a hitch.

Shayla slid her back down against the glass until she could feel her pussy touch his head. He slipped a hand between her lower back and the glass and pushed up.

“Uhhh,” she gasped. He was in. A little maneuvering and Rand got most of his shaft inside of her. She extended one arm all the way out against the glass wall and balanced herself by putting her other forearm on his shoulder. Rand tilted forward and pulled her in even more so that he could kiss her and thrust at the same time. Their nipples touched each other with every push and pull. She was getting wetter and tighter by the second. She kissed him while he fucked her. After two minutes, she stopped kissing him so she could breathe through her mouth. The mouth breathing turned into gasping. The gasping gave way to her almost shouting. “Ahh! Ahh! Ahhhh!” Every one was louder than the next.

And then her standing knee buckled. Her box completely closed in on Rand’s cock and she shook. He almost dropped her but kept hold as she came onto his cock. Shayla slid to the ground, and Rand followed her.

When she was flat, on her back, Rand pulled out his penis and put it in the cleavage he loved so much minutes ago. She was still recovering from coming, but Shayla knew what he wanted. She pushed her breasts against his penis and he stroked the tight space over and over with it. She loved the feel of it. She watched the head as it would loom closer to her chin and then disappear back between her breasts.

“Let it out, baby. Come on, old man,” Shayla teased.

Finally, his balls twitched and he started to cum on her nipples. One spray hit her chin, which made Shayla smile. She took a finger and pushed the strand into her mouth.

When he was done, Rand panted and lay next to her, putting a hand on top of her mound. They were silent with words but loud with their breathing for a while.

“That,” Shayla started, “was nothing like the boys before.”

“Whatever it takes to make you sing real, babe.” He rolled over and kissed a nipple before laying his head on her chest. She stroked his hair.

“I gave you something you can feel."