He stoop, stage centre, holding his Les Paul dressed in two-tone brothel creepers, tight black jeans and a studded black denim vest over his t-shirt. ...is hair stood charged on end proudly, black bar a white off centre streak. This was not a band to mess with. ‘No society gives a shit, If you wanna be free, you gotta take it. NO AUTHORITY!’ He shrieks his words, his throat burning white hot, passion firing from his lungs. ‘Thank you, have a great night everybody.’ Putting his guitar away, Chaos. Dinner conversation started out somewhat strained, but quickly turned to a recap of the drive. We both thought it was the hottest thing we had ever done."So what about the ride home?" I asked. She raised her eyebrows, "You have some unfinished business to attend to, Mister." "I know Honey- I am sorry. I PROMISE I will finish you off on the way home. Were you embarrassed to be naked in front of Paul?" "Umm, NO!" She laughed. "Couldn't you tell how turned on I was? I was watching him watch me. More

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