#snook inn

[rafefar]

Marco Island sunset

[spine-buster]

Lost in the Memory | Ryan O'Reilly | Volume III

gif credit @/heddy

A/N: This is just porn, basically.

“It’s gonna be good to be fuckin’ home, I can tell you that much.”

A delay at the airport meant that Ryan and the boys didn’t land in Toronto until the middle of the night.  Factoring in the drive from the airport to Summerhill, he didn’t walk through the door until almost 2:30 in the morning.  He walked in to the low hum of the TV, an old episode of Law and Order: SVU playing.  Whitney was asleep on the couch, clearly having tried to wait up for him, but failing.  She looked cozy under the blanket, and so peaceful that Ryan almost didn’t want to disturb her.

Though he had been living in the house since being traded, for what felt like the first time since he moved, he took a long look around the main floor.  It had been Whitney’s and Whitney’s alone for the past ten days.  Truthfully, it had been Whitney’s and Whitney’s alone since he bought it for her.  When he bought it, he did so because when he and Whitney saw it, she fell in love with it.  It reminded her of the house she grew up in, just that it was in a city, and Ryan wanted her to have it.  During the restoration and renovation, and over the years, she had truly put her mark on it.  Her stamp was everywhere, and that’s what he loved most about it.  It was a home for her, and it was a home for him, too, because wherever Whitney was, was home. 

Ryan bent down so he could be near eye contact with her, taking in her features.  Her beautiful long lashes she’d had since they were kids.  The littlest scar on her chin from when Owen accidentally hit her with a ministick.  Her perfectly shaped lips he loved to kiss whenever he could.  Her long, beautiful hair he loved to run his hands through.  He did just that, as softly as he could, to wake her up.  “Whitney…sweetness…” he cooed.  She didn’t wake up at first.  “Sweetness…” he was slightly louder.

Her eyes fluttered open, looking almost in disbelief that he was in front of her.  “Snook…” she mumbled.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said.

“I tried to stay up, Snook—”

“—Don’t apologize, sweetness.  It’s okay.  Let’s just go to bed.  C’mon,” he said, grabbing at her arms and wrapping them around his neck.  He proceeded to pick her up bridal style and carry her up the stairs to her bedroom.  Their bedroom.

Whitney was smart and had already changed into her pajamas.  After he laid her in bed, Ryan stripped out of his clothes quickly, leaving only his boxers on before her crawled into bed and pulled the sheets and comforter over their bodies.  “D’you want me to make you some French toast tomorrow morning?” she asked.

“Shhhhhh,” he cooed, snuggling up behind her as the big spoon.  She had work tomorrow, so he didn’t even know why she was offering.  Well, that was a lie…he did know: because she was Whitney.  And they always looked after one another.  But he wasn’t going to be that person – waking her up at 2am only to agree for her to wake up early to make him breakfast.  What was he, a chauvinist?  “Go to sleep, sweetness.  Don’t worry about tomorrow morning.”

He heard a little sigh leave her.  “I’m so happy you’re finally home, Snook.”

“Me too.  Me too.”

***

When Whitney got home from work that Monday, Ryan was making dinner.  She walked into the house smelling like homemade chicken soup, which she loved.  It reminded her of growing up.  And though she was grown up now, she was always nostalgic for her past; she thought most people were, especially if they enjoyed their childhoods.

“Welcome home,” Ryan was already looking over his shoulder at her as she made her way into the kitchen. 

“Thanks,” she smiled.  “Damn Snook, I could get used to this.”

He smiled.  “Smells good?”

“When you’re my husband I hope the house smells like this all the time.”

Whitney didn’t realize exactly which words were leaving her mouth when she opened it.  But when they finally came out, she couldn’t believe her mind strung the sentence together.  It was as if her innermost thoughts were starting to overpower her conscience.  She watched as Ryan chuckled slightly.  “I have some good news,” he immediately changed the subject.

Whitney gulped, pushing everything down.  “What’s that?”

“I get my cast off soon,” he revealed.

Whitney smiled wide.  “You can finally put that hand back to good use.”

“You mean, like, by scoring goals?”

“Obviously.  It’s not like it’s useful for much else.”

Whitney yelped as Ryan grabbed hold of her and pulled her towards his body, wrapping his arms around her midsection so she couldn’t escape.  “You take that back right now,” he grumbled playfully.  “These hands have probably done more to pleasure you than your own hands.”

“You severely underestimate how I often I masturbate to the thought of you fucking me,” she kept playing her game.

“You’re a sexual deviant.”

“You started it,” she winked.

Ryan peppered her face with kisses.  “I’m so happy to be home with you, sweetness.  How was work?”

I’d rather be taking care of our kids right now.  “It was fine.  Same old.  Can we cuddle on the couch tonight while watching episodes of SVU?”

Ryan smiled.  “I don’t want to do anything else.”

After eating their chicken soup and cleaning up the kitchen, Ryan queued up episodes of Law and Order while Whitney washed her makeup off and changed into something more comfortable.  When she emerged from the bedroom, Ryan was already on the couch and ready with a blanket.  She was wearing a pair of bike shorts and one of Ryan’s newest Leafs workout shirts.  While it was no doubt big on her, it was tight around her chest, making it very obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra and very obvious she’d appreciate the warmth of his body and the blanket.  The Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed dramatically when he saw her.  Without even trying, she was so incredibly sexy to him. 

“Ready?” she asked.

He nodded.  “C’mere, sweetness,” he opened up the blanket, allowing her to crawl in and snuggle up next to him, draping her legs over his.  After placing one of his hands in between her thighs, he pressed play. 

It was about halfway through the first episode they watched that Ryan’s hand began massaging between Whitney’s thighs.  She didn’t think much of it – he massaged her thighs all the time when they were cuddling like this – but then ever so slowly it began to move up.  By the time the second episode started, his hand was right near her core.  She looked over at him at one point, a small smile playing on her face.  “You can put your hand down my shorts, Snook.  It’s been ten years – you don’t have to ask for permission.”

“Yes I do,” he said quickly, moving his hand quickly so it slipped underneath the waistband of her shorts and back down to between her thighs.  He cupped her core briefly before his fingers played with her lips.  Slowly.  Painstakingly slowly.  As they watched the next episode, he teased her pussy much longer than Whitney was anticipating, though she wasn’t complaining.  Eventually, she almost couldn’t focus between her hero Olivia Benson and what Ryan was doing.  She’d close her eyes to focus on the feeling, then open them to focus on the show, rotating back and forth.

“Snook?”

“Sweetness?”

“You coming to Toronto was the best thing to ever happen,” she sighed out, her eyes closed.

He giggled at her words.  “Oh yeah?”

She let out another sign.  “Can we…” she began before trailing off.

“Tell me sweetness.  What do you want?”

“D’you remember when I came to visit you in St. Louis the first time after you won the Cup and we—we were cuddling on your couch watching TV and we—we—”

“Lie down,” he whispered, knowing exactly what she was referencing.  “Get comfortable, sweetness.”

His hand left her hot core as she lay down on the couch how she wanted.  Ryan got right behind her, his body flush against hers, mimicking every curve before he pulled his sweatpants down to free his cock.  He stroked himself quickly a few times before pulling her shorts down enough that he could slip his cock between her thighs and slowly into her core to cockwarm.  Whitney let out a satisfied sigh at the feeling, and Ryan could feel her body fully relax into his.

The sigh she let out was long and cathartic, as if all the strains and stresses of the day were released with it and she was finally at peace.  “That feels so nice,” she whispered.

“We haven’t done this in a while,” he commented, combing some of her hair back with his fingers. 

“I know.  Does it feel nice for you too?”

“Of course,” he replied.

“You’re so good to me, Snook.”

Ryan kissed her temple before draping his arm over her body, queuing the next episode of SVU to start.  They lay on the couch together in that position for at least two more episodes, making light conversation or commentary on the episode every so often.  Every time she moved slightly, Whitney was reminded of how good it felt to have Ryan inside her so intimately, even if it wasn’t sexual.  While she knew it was probably going to end with them making love eventually (at least it did last time), she truly valued just being like this with him.

While Benson and Stabler were trying to solve a case, Whitney could feel Ryan begin to slip his hand under her (his) shirt.  His hand eventually cupped one of her breasts, taking his time to knead it softly before he began to pinch her nipple.  Ryan could feel her chest rise and fall, little sighs escaping her.  Then, he began to kiss the exposed skin between her neck and shoulders, and there were more little sighs coming out of her that he could feel made his cock harden.  Eventually, neither were preoccupied with the crime Benson and Stabler were trying to solve; they were only preoccupied with each other.

“Snook?”

“Sweetness?”

“Make love to me, Snook.  Nice and slow.”

Ryan peppered her exposed skin with more kisses before he began to move his hips so he could pump his cock in and out of her in their spooning position.  He took it nice and slow, just like she wanted, because her sighs were driving him absolutely insane.  To him, they were worthy of the finest orchestras in the world.  “S’at good, baby?”

“Yeah, Ry.  It’s so good.”

“You need it like this?” he asked.  Whitney nodded her head.  “Tell me why.”

“Because I’m at work all day and all I can think about is wanting to be with you,” she said.  “And when it’s like this it’s so nice because it’s so…soft.”

Ryan couldn’t help but smile, kissing her again, making sure he didn’t get too far ahead of himself and go any faster than she wanted.  She felt incredible as always, and he was going to take advantage of being inside of her for as long as possible.  “Reminds me of the first time it happened on a couch,” Ryan whispered in her ear.  “Remember?  My parents were at a show here, Shannon was at a sleepover, and we were doing our best to watch that movie we can’t even remember.”

Whitney smiled.  “I remember.  I ended up on your lap within the first ten minutes.”

“That’s right,” Ryan chuckled.  “Couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

“If my memory serves me right, I’d say it was the other way around,” Whitney said.  “You were the one unzipping my shorts.”

“Those itty bitty jean shorts you used to wear?  Can you blame me?  Your ass looked great in those.  Come to think of it, they barely covered it.”

“That was the first time I let you fuck me without a condom, too,” Whitney mentioned.  “Remember?”

He did.  They’d been having sex and Ryan was using a condom religiously, and Whitney said the only way they could have sex without one was if they both got tested for STIs.  That’s what her parents taught her if she was going to become sexually active, and she was sticking to it.  Ryan didn’t put up a fuss about it at all.  He went to his doctor, got the required test, and showed Whitney.  Whitney did the same, even though Ryan knew she was fine since she had only ever had sex with him.  “Of course,” Ryan breathed out.  “How could I forget?”

Ryan continued to move in and out of her, his hand moving down her body and to her clit where he began to rub lazy circles, causing Whitney to squirm and let out some more sighs.  Though they were taking it nice and slow, Whitney could feel her orgasm building just as slowly, her body feeling hot after so much time of being engulfed in one another’s bodies.  She put her hand over Ryan’s, still rubbing circles on her clit.  “You take care of me in every way, Snook.  I hope you know that.”

She was met by silence from Ryan.  And in that silence, her mind began to wander.  Why wasn’t he answering?  Why hadn’t he said anything in return?  All he did was continue his movements to make her feel good, which was always nice, but…why didn’t he say anything?  Does he not believe it?  “I’m close, Ry.”

“Yeah?” he finally responded.

“Yeah.  I can’t wait to feel you come inside me.”

Eventually, when Ryan felt her entire body shiver, he knew her orgasm was running through her.  Only then did he allow himself to come too, letting all his pent-up energy release inside of her.  He made sure to continue rubbing her clit to make her orgasm last longer, until he felt her hand that was over his squeeze it to get him to stop.  “Goooddd, Snook,” she sighed out.  “That was so good.  So nice.”

“I know,” he nodded.  His cock slipped out of her but was immediately replaced with his hand, feeling her wetness on his fingers before Whitney switched positions so she was facing him instead of having her back towards him.  He brought his hand up and sucked on his fingers, tasting her like he wanted.  She kissed him immediately after.  “You’re so sweet,” his voice was barely above a whisper, considering they were so close physically.

“Will you kiss me, Snook?”

Their lips met and they continued kissing for so, so long, completely lost in each other as the hum of the TV played in the background, Benson and Stabler starting to solve yet another case.

***

Whitney looked at herself in the mirror of her ensuite bathroom, wearing another one of Ryan’s Leafs shirts – this time in white – her jersey with his name on it draped over the door.  She was wearing a pair of black lace underwear that made her ass look extra cheeky.  Her nipples were already poking through the material of the shirt, but she knew she could do better.  She looked towards the shower and thought, well, that’ll be pretty hot.  She wet the t-shirt with the shower head, so much that it clung to her body, showing every curve.  She went back in front of the mirror and began to pose, taking pictures of herself for Ryan.

She was going to tease him within an inch of his life.  Why?  Because she wanted to.  Because she was still thinking about how he didn’t respond to her when they were having sex on the couch and she said, “You take care of me in every way, Snook.  I hope you know that.”  All she could think about for the past few days was how he didn’t respond.  Did he not think that he took care of her?  Did he not want to?  Did he not want to anymore?  When Ryan said he’d always take care of her, did that mean marriage?  Did that mean children?  Did that mean a life together?  He didn’t answer, so maybe it didn’t.  Maybe it did.  She didn’t know anymore.  It was all so confusing.  What she did know was this: she was going to take care of him and his ego tonight, that was for sure.  Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, and maybe she should approach it in a different way; maybe it wasn’t mature and maybe it wouldn’t do anything in the grand scheme of things, but God damn it, this was how she was going to do it. 

Ryan had already left for the arena for the game against the Panthers, and she would be making her way down in about an hour.  She would be meeting Bee and Aryne before the game for some dinner and was mostly ready, except for the fact that she was taking pictures of herself as if she were competing in a wet t-shirt contest.  When she was done with the wet t-shirt contest, she tossed it in the shower and put on his jersey instead.  It was oversized, but she still knew she could make it look sexy.  She made sure her underwear was visible as she made her ass was front and centre since not much else could be seen.

When Whitney was actually ready – in her clothes she had planned to wear to the game, and not the clothes she had planned to tease Ryan in – she texted Bee that she was leaving her place and on her way to Chotto Matte, the Japanese-Peruvian restaurant that the boys had apparently been frequenting as of late.  When Bee realized that Whitney’s office was only a few blocks away from hers, she resolved that they get together more often, starting with dinner before the game with Aryne and Aberdeen.  Whitney and Bee were the same age, only three days apart – Whitney born August 28th and Bee born on August 31st – and so Bee made a conscious effort to be friends with her, and Whitney appreciated the effort because she liked Bee (and all the other women) since the day she met them.

Before she lost the WiFi service at the station, Whitney took out her phone from her purse and opened the conversation she was keeping with Ryan.

Just on my way to dinner with Bee, Aryne, and Aberdeen.  Can I show you my outfit?  I don’t know if it’s too fancy.  Have you been to Chotto Matte before?

He responded right away, letting her know that he wasn’t doing anything important.  At least not yet. 

Of course.  And no, I haven’t been.

The subway rolled into the station.  Whitney chose the first of the photos she favourited from the array she took, the least risqué of the night.  A photo of her just posing in his t-shirt, her nipples poking through the fabric, a hint of the black lace of her panties showing.  She got on the subway and took a seat, and as the subway began moving towards Rosedale station, her phone buzzed. 

Looks like you’ll be cold.  I think it needs a jacket.

She chuckled.  So he was going to be a cheeky bastard.  Fine.

By the time she made her way to Bay and Front Street, Bee and Aryne were waiting in the vestibule of the restaurant.  Within five minutes Aberdeen arrived and they were seated at their table, ordering drinks and food – Whitney ordered the black cod aji miso on the behest of Aryne.  The girls chatted up Whitney like they were old friends, and not like they’d just met merely a month ago.  Whitney ignored the incoming texts from Ryan throughout dinner and had fun with her newfound friends.

Let me see your real outfit

What are you wearing?

Are you at the restaurant already?  Are the girls there?

Go to the bathroom and show me how sexy you look in your outfit

Whit come on

I’m desperate here

You can’t just send a pic like that and then go silent

He was right.  It was so incredibly rude of her to go silent after she sent him such a picture.  So, as the waiter took their dinner plates away, she quickly got on her phone and sent him a second picture.  It was a picture of her in the same outfit except this time, she had her hand down the front of the black lace panties.  She locked her screen quickly, not giving it a second thought.  Within seconds, a reply flashed on her screen.

What the fuck, sweetness

The girls paid the bill and made their way to the arena on foot, taking the elevator to the family lounge where a few of the other girls were already hanging out.  When she had a moment to herself, she took out her phone and sent another picture, unsolicited: one where she was looking over her shoulder, pulling the t-shirt forward so her ass was in full view of the mirror.

Whitney

After some small talk with a few of the other women present, another: one where her t-shirt was wet and clung to her body, especially her breasts.

WHITNEY

After the Canadian and American national anthems were played, another one: a close up of her biting her lip, her nipples poking through the wet fabric of the shirt.

There’s a lot of guys in here with me

You gotta stop

As the first period went on, another: the wet t-shirt with her hand down her panties again.

Whit I mean it

Right after the buzzer at the end of the period, another: one of her in his jersey, ass in full view.

Holy fuck

She giggled slightly.  At the end of intermission, when she knew all the men he was with would be back, another: her seated on the floor, her legs spread wide, his jersey barely covering up the visual. 

I should come down to the family lounge and fuck you senseless in the bathroom.

Patience is a virtue, Snook

Stop teasing sweetness

That’s going to get you in trouble

If I’m trouble, then maybe you should roll up your sleeves, bend me over you knee, and spank me

Ryan never responded.  Whitney didn’t push it.  She knew she had him exactly where she wanted him and left it at that.  She enjoyed the rest of the game, the rest of the banter and conversation with the girls.  She finished her glass of wine and cheered on during overtime, though the Leafs lost.

When Ryan emerged from the locker room, he barely made eye contact with Whitney.  He greeted all the other women very politely and made conversation with them as they asked him about his finger and what life was like in the press box.  He milked the conversations for as long as he could, until a couple more of the guys emerged, until he finally looked at Whitney.  “D’you want a ride home?”

“That’d be nice.  Thanks,” she smiled.

She and Ryan got into the elevator to take them down to the parking garage.  He hadn’t said a word to her.  She couldn’t help the smile that was making its way onto her face after each passing silent moment.  “How’d you like the game?” she asked.  Silence.  She bit her tongue to keep herself from laughing.  Ryan didn’t even look at her.  “You look great in that suit, by the way.  Very sexy,” she offered.

Only then did Ryan give her a look, and even then – the look sent a shiver down her spine.  She was wholly unprepared for it, and after the shiver came the heat.  She knew she was in for it.  She was anxious and excited all at once.  When they walked off the elevator and started towards his Range Rover, his strides were so long and determined that Whitney almost felt like skipping to stay on pace with him.

Once they got to his car, Whitney decided to strike again.  “Are you mad at me or something?”

They were lucky a lot of cars were parked, because Ryan pulled her in between them and pushed her up against his, pinning her between the car and his body.  “You think you can just send me pictures like that and not have me go crazy?” he muttered, his lips so close to hers she could feel his breath on her skin.

“No, I knew exactly what I was doing,” she said in a hushed tone. 

“You’re a little tease, sweetness.”

“Did you have to go beat one off in the bathroom because you got a little too excited?”

“Oh no no nooo,” he cooed before giving her a hard kiss that took her breath away.  “I’m saving everything for when we get home.”

Whitney smiled from ear to ear.  “Then what are we waiting for?”

“Oh good, their car is still here!” they both her Morgan’s voice yell through the parking garage.  Ryan and Whitney separated at lightning speed.  “You just couldn’t see them because you’re short, bumblebee.”

Whitney and Ryan both emerged from in between the cars casually.  Bee was still a bit far from them, but close enough to not have to yell.  “I just wanted to remind you to text me for dates next week when you’re available for lunch,” she said.

“Of course!” Whitney was chipper.  “I’ll look at my schedule tomorrow at work.” 

Bee nodded as she watched Ryan open the passenger side door for Whitney.  “Drive safe,” she waved.

“You too!” Whitney said before getting in.  Ryan waved to Bee and Morgan before walking around the car and getting into the driver’s seat.

***

“I was not supposed to see that.  I was not supposed to see that.  I was not supposed to see that,” Bee repeated to herself over and over as she sat in the passenger seat, eyes wide but staring at nothing, waiting for Morgan to get into the car.  “I was not supposed to see that.  I was not supposed to see that.  I was not supposed to—”

“What weren’t you supposed to see?” Morgan’s voice suddenly interrupted her.

It was as if he had just magically appeared in the driver’s seat.  Bee didn’t even hear him get in.  She was too preoccupied with the scene replaying over and over in her mind: seeing Ryan and Whitney kissing in between cars when they thought no-one was watching.  And it wasn’t just some innocent kiss, either.  There was meaning behind it.  History behind it.

“Nothing,” Bee shook her head.  “Drop it.”

“Bumblebee—”

“Nothing.”

***

Ryan and Whitney rushed inside, their bodies ready to go before they even touched either other.  Ryan pinned her against the wall and kissed her forcefully, greedily, because she let him and because he could and because he’d been waiting hours to show her what he really thought of those pictures.  His knee was between her legs.  “Y’looked so fuckin’ hot in those pictures, sweetness,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Which ones were your favourites?  Wet t-shirt or jersey?”

He huffed.  “How could I choose?” he asked, and he meant it.  He picked her up in one swift movement and carried her up the stairs to their bedroom, setting her back down on her feet.  He grabbed handfuls of her ass with his hands, causing her to make a little noise at how his fingers dug into her skin.

“You wanted to fuck me so bad after seeing them, didn’t you?” she asked.

Ryan didn’t answer.  Instead, he pinned her up against the wall again, except this time, he wasn’t kissing her.  He was looking directly into her eyes as his chest rose and fell with the intensity of his breaths.  “Don’t think I forgot about your teasing that easily,” he warned, his voice low.  He could see the fire in Whitney’s eyes at her tone.  He stopped pinning her against the wall, but she didn’t move.  “You’re in a lot of fucking trouble, sweetness.”

Whitney watched as Ryan backed up further, until he was sitting in his dress shirt and suit pants on the edge of the bed, legs spread so she could see his growing bulge.  “D’you want me to s—”

“You do what I tell you to do,” his said sternly as he unbuttoned the cuffs on his shirt.  “Understood?”

Whitney nodded excitedly, biting her bottom lip.  “Yes.”

“Are you wearing the panties in the pictures?”

“Yes.”

He paused for a moment, licking his lips.  “Show me.  Nice and slow.”

Whitney knew what that meant.  She giggled slightly before she began to untuck the rest of her shirt – whatever Ryan didn’t get to downstairs – from the jeans she was wearing.  She watched as Ryan began to cuff the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, and she swore she could have come right then and there.  She took off her top to reveal a lacy black bra, one that pushed her boobs up perfectly.  “You like what you see, Snook?”

“Take off your pants, sweetness.”

She unbuttoned them slowly, swaying her hips, before unzipping them.  Before she pulled them down, she took the few steps over to Ryan, just as he was finishing cuffing his other sleeve.  She turned around so her ass was facing him and arched her back so it was in his face, pulling down her jeans slowly to reveal the lacy underwear that drove him crazy.  She kicked her jeans off to the side and before she knew it, Ryan had pulled her on to his lap, wrapping a strong arm around her body so she couldn’t move.  “You think you’re cute sending me those pictures even after I told you there were other people around, huh,” he whispered into her ear, his free hand snaking down to her panties.

“I had a lot of favourites,” she couldn’t help but smile as she felt his hand cup her pussy.

“You’re so fucking bad, sweetness.”

She felt his hand push her panties aside, two fingers teasing her pussy already.  She writhed in his lap, closing her eyes.  “I meant what I said in the text, Snook,” she said.

Ryan paused, as did his fingers.  Using the name Snook said it all.  “Are you sure, Whit?”

She nodded her head.  “Yes.  Please.”

He kissed her shoulder tenderly.  Then he asked a question.  “Do bad girls get what they want?  Or are they going to have to beg?”

It was practically automatic, the way Whitney’s body heat up at what Ryan said.  She closed her eyes again.  “Please Ry, bend me over your knee.”

His arm’s grip on her loosened and he helped move her into the position she wanted to be in, over his lap with her ass exposed and ready.  His fingers went right back to her pussy, teasing her lips only momentarily before he shoved them in.  She let out a gasp at the intrusion, her body tensing in his lap.  “Ry—”

“You’re so fucking needy and desperate sweetness.”

“I am.”

“For what?  Tell me.”

She could feel his fingers curl inside of her, hitting a place that he didn’t normally hit and giving her a feeling she’d never felt before.  For a moment, she almost forgot what all this was for.  “I—I—”

“For what?”

“For you to spank me,” she finally let out.  “For you to make me feel good.”

“What about my fingers, huh?” he asked, curling them in her again, causing her to squirm in his lap and moan loudly.  “They aren’t good enough for you?”

“I want—I want more.”

“More what?”

Whitney was getting more turned on by the second.  She loved putting her pleasure completely in Ryan’s hands, because he was the only one who knew exactly what to do to her, who knew exactly what to say to get her riled up.  Besides, he put his pleasure completely in her hands, too.  “I want more—more—”

“More?  You think you’ve been a good girl who can get what she wants?”

“No,” she shook her head.  “I’ve been bad and I need to be spanked.”

Ryan looked at her ass in full view for him, his fingers leaving her pussy.  He hesitated for a moment, because he wanted to give her what she wanted, but he also didn’t want to hurt her.  They hadn’t done this before, in all the times they’d been together.  Toronto must have really been something special if this is what they were getting up to now that they lived together in the same city.  He brought the fingers that were in her pussy up to his mouth to taste her before he resolved to go for it.  He took one last glance at the excited anticipation on her face before bringing his hand up, then down.  Smack!

Whitney let out a yelp, writhing in his lap.  “Oh fuck,” she breathed out.

“Did that hurt?”

“No no no, it felt so good,” she assured him.  “Do it again, baby.  Please.”

Smack!

Another yelp, her knees coming together as she crossed her ankles.  He wasn’t spanking her particularly hard, but they’d never done this before.  “Fuck!” she screamed out in pleasure. 

“Feels good?”

“Feels so fucking good Ry, oh my God,” she couldn’t believe it.  “Keep going.”

Smack!

Ryan caught sight of her pussy again, wet and slick from before and from what he was doing.  He spanked her again and could practically see it throb in pleasure.  He brought his hand back to her pussy, sticking his fingers in with ease since she was so wet, and she cried out at the sensation.  This time, though, he quickened his pace and curled his fingers more often.  Whitney had stopped being quiet a long time ago, but as he did so, she really wasn’t quiet.  It was only after he’d had his fingers back in her for a while that he even realized she was trying to say something.

“B…b…”

“What is it, sweetness?  You need a break?”

“Both.”

He was confused for only a second before understanding what she meant.  “Look at me,” he grabbed her jaw with his free hand, which wouldn’t be so free after this if she meant what he thought she meant.  He forced her to look at him.  Her cheeks were so flushed red.  “You want both?” he asked.

She nodded.  “I want both, Ry.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he released her jaw.  “You gotta tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

“It won’t be.  I want it so bad Ry.  I’m gonna come so hard.  I want—I want it so bad.”

Ryan could never say no to her.  The only mode he knew was to indulge Whitney, and that was exactly what he was going to do.  He took a lick of his fingers before sticking them back in her pussy, using his other hand to give her another smack that made her cry out in pleasure.  Her body couldn’t help the movements it was making from the pleasure he was giving her, and Whitney couldn’t control them, either.  Every spank and every curl of his fingers brought her closer to a place where she and Ryan had never been before – an entirely new plane of pleasure they were capable of giving only each other.  “Mmmmm, ohmygod, Ry,” Whitney breathed out before cursing for the umpteenth time.  A new curl of his fingers hit the same spot from earlier, and she was desperate to feel it again.  “Right there, Ry.  Just like that.”

Another curl right on the spot.  Another cry.  Another smack.  Another curl.  Whitney felt like she was losing her breath, repeating his name over and over with every curl and ever smack.  She gripped the comforter for dear life, right before Ryan smacked her and curled his fingers at the same time, sending her entire body through an earth-shattering orgasm.  She’d never felt anything like it before, and she was as loud as can be.  She heard Ryan swear before the rhythm of his fingers changed slightly, slowing down before adopting a new rhythm.  The orgasm lasted longer than so many others, and when most of it finally passed, her hips lowered back down to his lap.

“Sweetness—”

It felt weird.  She couldn’t make it out at first – it was supposed to be Ryan’s dress pants, of course – but they felt different.  Had she really sweat that much?  Had he?  The feeling was different than what she was used to.  “Ry—”

“Holy fucking shit, Whit,” Ryan breathed out.

“Your pants—why do they feel wet?”

“Whit, I think you squirted.”

Whitney’s jaw dropped as she screamed in shock.  Ryan began to giggle, almost nervously and definitely uncontrollably, not believing what had just happened.  He could see Whitney’s eyes, nervous and uncontrollably delirious as his, smiling on their own above her hands that had cupped her dropped jaw and mouth.  “Are you serious Ry?”

He giggled some more.  “Oh my God-d-d-d,” he shook his head.

“I can’t believe I did that,” Whitney shook her head.  She wiggled off his lap and onto the bed as they continued giggling in disbelief.  She looked onto his lap to see the stain on his pants.  “Oh my God.  I didn’t even know I could do that.”

“I wasn’t expec—that was so fucking hot, sweetness.”

Whitney lay down on her side on the bed, shaking her head and covering her face with her hands.  “I’m so embarrassed.”

“What?!  Why?” Ryan demanded, moving so he could hover over her.  He tried to get her hands out of her face, but she kept shaking her head.  “Whit, there’s no way you should be embarrassed.  That was so fucking hot.  Are you kidding me?  I’m gonna be fucking dreaming of that for the rest of my damn life.”

Her chest was still heaving up and down as Ryan finally got her hands out of her face.   “You see what you do to me?” she asked.  “Only you can do that to my body, Ry.  Nobody else.  And you know what’s even better?”

So she wasn’t done.  Ryan bit his bottom lip.  “What’s that?”

“Only you get to do that to my body,” she said.  “You know why?”

“Because you’re all mine,” he huffed, his voice possessive as he stood up at the foot of the bed, facing Whitney as she lay there.  The visual of him towering over her, still with his dress shirt sleeves rolled up and suit pants on almost made Whitney come again.  “All fuckin’ mine.”

“That’s riiiiight,” she cooed.

“You ready to do what I tell you?” he asked, playing with his sleeves near his elbows.

“Yes Ry.”

“Spread your legs for me,” he said.  Whitney did as she was told.  Ryan licked his lips as he untucked his shirt.  “Look at that pretty pussy.  Fuck.  You’re so beautiful, sweetness.  So perfect.”

“You’re not so bad either,” she smiled.

“Touch yourself for me,” he ordered, beginning to unbutton his shirt.  Slow enough to tease her, but fast enough because he couldn’t wait, his hard cock straining his pants.

He watched as Whitney did as she was told, one hand going to her pussy while the other cupped her breast, pinching her nipple.  “I don’t want your hands anymore, Ry.  I want you inside me.  I want you to fill me with your cum.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” he undid his belt.  Whitney almost mewled at the sight of him doing it topless.  “I’ll give you want you want.  What you need.”

“I need it so bad, Ry.  So so so bad.”

Ryan eventually got into bed and grabbed Whitney’s legs, pushing them straight up and grabbing her ankles to rest them on his shoulders.  “I fuckin’ love you Whit.”

“I love you too, Snook.  Ever since we were kids.”

“Ever since we were kids,” he repeated, nodding and kissing her inner ankle.  “You ready to take my cock?”

“Yes, God yes.”

Ryan used his hand to position himself and he slid into her so easily, her pussy still wet from their previous activities.  Like always, she felt like heaven, her pussy hot and completely taking his cock.  “S’at feel good?”

Whitney nodded her head.  “Fuck me, baby.  Take care of me.”

Ryan grabbed her ankles, developing a strong rhythm and thrusting deep inside her as he made her cry out in pleasure.  His own grunts fuelled Whitney too, who couldn’t help but reach out to Ryan’s body, just so she could feel it.  He squeezed her ankles, ensuring they were secure on his shoulders.  “You keep them there.  Got it?”

“Yes.”

He leaned forward, his body and her legs getting hooked against her body.  “Oh fuck,” Whitney breathed out.  “Oh God Ry, it’s so fucking deep like this.”

“Gimme your hands.”

Even before she could free them, he grabbed them and pinned them above her head, holding them down with pressure so she couldn’t move them.  His thrusts became even harder, his movements rough but passionate.  She wanted a good fucking and she was going to get it – Ryan always made sure of that.  Whatever her need was, he could fulfil it.  Only him.  “Jeeeeesus Ry, fu—fuck me good, baby.  I need it so bad.”

Ryan didn’t know how he managed to last as long as he did.  Between the little strip show and the fingering and the spanking and the squirting, to now as his cock was buried deep in her pussy as they looked into each other’s eyes and whispered dirty talk to each other, his body was sweaty and practically as wet as his dress pants by the time he felt his orgasm build inside of him.  Whitney hadn’t been silent since he entered her, her voice becoming strained for how long he’d been fucking her and how long she’d been moaning and mewling and crying out and telling Ryan how good he was fucking her and how much she liked it. 

“Baby—baby I’m so close,” Whitney whispered.  “I want it harder.  Go deeper.”  Ryan pushed the final bit towards her body, hooking their bodies even closer together.  She closed her eyes to enjoy the pleasure.  “That’s it, Ry, that’s it.”

“Look at me,” he demanded, and she opened her eyes on the command.  “You love it when I fuck you like this?”

Whitney nodded.  “Always.”

“Tell me how much you love me fucking you.”

“Ever since the first time,” she assured him.  “The first time you touched me, Ry – I knew nobody else could make me feel like you do.  You were made to take care of me.”

“That’s fuckin’ right,” his voice was gravelly.

“Cum inside me, Ry.  Fill me up.  Fill me up,” Whitney begged.  “I know you want to.  And I want it so bad.”

“You want it bad, huh?”

“I need it, Ry.”

Within seconds, Whitney could feel his hot cum explode inside her, filling her up just how she wanted, another intense orgasm flowing through her entire body, from the hairs on her head down to her toes.  Her entire body shook and flushed red.  Ryan was moaning out loudly as he spilled every single drop he had into her, eventually stopping his movements in and out of her.  He loosened his push on her body so she could unhook her legs, and positioned her ankles back on his shoulders.  “Atta girl,” he gave a light smack to where her thighs met her ass.

Whitney couldn’t help but smirk and giggle.  Ryan let go of her ankles before collapsing on to her body and moving so they were laying on their sides, entangled with another.  Whitney was still catching her breath when Ryan slipped out of her.  “That was so good, Snook,” she whispered.

“God Whit, I love you so fucking much,” he kissed her.

“I love you too, Snook.  I always have.”

They didn’t say much else besides other sweet murmurs to each other, and as Ryan ran his hands through Whitney’s hair, she lulled into a deep sleep, thinking about how good Ryan was to her.  As Ryan drifted off to sleep, he kept thinking about how there was no place he’d rather be.

***

Hockey Night in Canada was a tradition in many households, and growing up, Whitney’s was one of them.  She remembered it being on virtually every Saturday night, Owen and Gareth glued to the TV to watch the Leafs and whoever they were facing.  Oftentimes the O’Reillys and Napiers would get together at each other’s houses on Saturday night, order some pizza, and make some popcorn for all the kids while they watched.  Whitney remembers always sitting in between Ryan and Gareth, and eventually Shannon, with the O’Reilly foster kids all around them starting Go Leafs Go chants.

Tonight, she was in attendance for a Hockey Night in Canada for Ryan, who was playing on the Toronto Maple Leafs.  She couldn’t believe it.

Whitney wore Ryan’s jersey and stood beside Bee, who held Axton up against the glass beside Jace, being held by Aryne on her hip.  John came around to fist bump, the biggest smile on his face as he saw his boys.  Jake McCabe came around too, waving at his kids who were excited to see their dad on the ice.  Jeska Schenn even got a picture of her boys posing with Luke, who gave them a puck from the ice.  Whitney could only hope that this would be her someday soon, bringing hers and Ryan’s children down to the glass to see their dad.

As this was the Leafs’ last home game, there was extra energy in the building.  When the women got back to their section and settled into their seats, they could feel it.  Mitch opened the scoring, and John scored about five minutes later, with a secondary assist from Ryan.  Aryne and Whitney hugged, jumping in unison.  In the second period, when William Nylander scored with another assist from Ryan, Whitney screamed even louder, Aberdeen screaming with her as they hugged too.  In the third period, on John’s second goal, Ryan got his third assist, and Whitney was elated.  The boys played so well, earning a 7-1 win against the Montreal Canadiens in their last home game of the season.  With the team saluting the raucous crowd, the girls clapped and cheered.

“Come to SoHo House with us,” Aberdeen whispered to Whitney as the girls began filing out of the family lounge.

“SoHo House?  Isn’t that members only?”

“Between myself and Bee, we can all get in as guests,” Aberdeen winked.  “And we need to celebrate, don’t we?”

Whitney smiled.  “Of course we do.”

Before Whitney, Aberdeen, and the rest of the girls were able to travel towards the locker room, they were stopped by a familiar voice – at least to Whitney.  “Whitney?  Is that you?”

Whitney turned her head to see a familiar face – Rachael, the girlfriend of Joel Edmundson, who played with Ryan on the Blues when they won the Stanley Cup.  She and Rachael weren’t exactly friends, but they tried to be friendly, though Rachael always had an iciness to her that Whitney couldn’t crack.  She didn’t know if it was just her personality or if Rachael didn’t like her.  In any case, Whitney completely forgot Joel was on the Montreal Canadiens, so it was very unexpected to see her at Scotiabank Arena.  Considering her personality, Whitney was slightly shocked Rachael was even getting her attention to say hi.  “Oh, Rachael!  Hey!” she greeted, smiling.  “You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you,” she said quickly to Aberdeen before re-routing herself towards Rachael.  “It’s nice to see you, Rachael.”

“Nice to see you too,” she said, though she didn’t outstretch her arms for a hug.

“It’s good that you were able to make the game here.  Your sister is studying here, right?” Whitney asked.

“Can’t believe you remember that,” Rachael commented.  “But yeah.  A couple of the girls and I came for the game, but I’m staying to spend some time with my sister.  What are you doing here?”

Whitney thought it was obvious.  She was wearing Ryan’s jersey, after all, which gave it away.  She pointed to the ‘90’ patch on her arm, giggling slightly.  “Ryan got traded here at the trade deadline, and I’m here, you know, supporting him.”

“No, Whitney…I mean, what are you doing here?” Rachael asked again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I can’t believe you’re still waiting around for him,” Rachael said.

Whitney froze slightly, her eyebrows furrowing at the comment.  “What?”

Rachael rolled her eyes playfully.  “Listen, all I’m saying is…you’re hot, Whitney.  And if it were you, I’d be flirting with Auston Matthews or something, not waiting for Ryan like you always have been.”

“I’ve never been waiting for Ryan—”

“—Yes you have.  We’ve all seen it.  Every time you came to visit St. Louis, Joel and I would always see it, always talk about it.  And I just can’t believe it’s still going on,” Rachael lamented, not bothering to cover the contemptuous pity in her voice.  “I feel bad for you.  If I was waiting this long, I’d want someone to tell me how desperate I looked.  You should have taken that opportunity with Binner when you had the chance.”

Whitney could feel her cheeks flush red.  “How could you even say that?  Binner was so inappropriate with me.  There’s no way I would have even considered it – then or now.”

Rachael wasn’t letting up.  Clearly, she started this conversation with a purpose.  Were these things she wanted to tell Whitney back then and only had the opportunity to do so now, when they were alone, because Whitney trusted this conversation to be a fucking normal one?  “You have to move on and accept the fact that Ryan isn’t going to want you,” she said, her words as cold as ice.  “Move on, Whit.  He’s never going to be with you.”

Whitney narrowed her eyes at Rachael.  It took everything within her not to cry or scream in her face.  Whitney knew there were some…well, characters among the partners of NHL players, but Rachael was playing a dirty game that Whitney didn’t like, that Whitney never considered playing herself.  “Is this why you got my attention?  To tell me how desperate I am?  To make me feel awful?”

“I’m trying to save you a lot of heartache.  Trust me,” she said.  “Auston Matthews is right there.”

Whitney looked directly into her eyes.  “Go fuck yourself, Rachael.”

Whitney turned on the balls of her heels and walked away, disappearing quickly behind a door Rachael wasn’t allowed access through.  Instead of going directly to where Aberdeen and the rest of the women were, she escaped into the washroom, if only to make sure that the tears welling in her eyes and the redness in her cheeks wouldn’t be visible when she saw them all again.

Rachael’s words ruminated in Whitney’s mind and made her stomach bubble as looked at herself in the mirror.  “Stop waiting for Ryan.  I feel bad for you.  Move on.  He’s never going to be with you.”  She wasn’t right.  Whitney knew Ryan loved her, yet for some reason, he didn’t want to be with her.  Ryan adored her, but couldn’t be with her.  Ryan was her forever, and she was Ryan’s forever, but something was stopping him from putting a label on that forever.  She’d cheated on her boyfriends with him.  She broke guys’ hearts because of him, so desperate to be with her that they would have walked barefoot on lava.  But Ryan was her beginning, end, and everything in between, and she wasn’t interested in men willing to walk on lava when she had Ryan willing to do anything for her.

Except be with her.

Except call her his girlfriend.

Except make her his wife.

She burst out of the washroom, walking down the flight of stairs to see Aberdeen and an array of the other girls waiting for the boys.  “All good?” Aberdeen asked.

“Mhm,” she nodded quickly, burying her feelings within her.  “I’m ready to drink.”

***

Ryan noticed something off about Whitney the moment they got into the car.  Something was off.  She assured him that everything was fine, that she’d just heard a fan say something stupid about him in the stands and it had made her angry, but he knew she was lying.  Stuff like that never bothered Whitney before, so why was it bothering her now?  The drive to SoHo House wasn’t long, but he tried to get the truth out of her with no success.  He resolved to get to the bottom of it by the end of the night, even if he had to pry it out of her.

Whitney immediately approached the bar, ordering a margarita and finishing it within the first ten minutes.  SoHo House wasn’t that kind of scene, of course, but Whitney didn’t care – if she was going to have to drink her feelings away, she would.  Upon ordering her second, she felt Ryan behind her.  “Will you tell me what happened, please?”

“I said it’s nothing,” she said. 

“Then slow down,” he said, watching as the bartender handed her the second margarita.  “I wish you would just be honest with me.”

He’s never going to be with you.  “I am being honest,” she said.  “Please, Snook.  I just want to have a fun night out with the girls.  You’re gone all next week and I’m going to miss you.  I don’t want to start thinking about it now.”

Ryan digressed, because he always did.  He knew how much Whitney missed him when he was gone – he got to see it now when he came home to her.  When they were separated for months, it was even worse.  So he let her be with the girls and he hung out with the guys, and he noticed her get a third margarita, except this time it was after a while and a few glasses of water.  He kept his eye on her, her animated face lighting up at the stories she’d tell or listen to, her laugh loud and rambunctious.

“There’s nothing going on between you two, right?” William Nylander asked as he watched Aberdeen interact with Whitney. 

“Nah.  Why?”

William knew Ryan was lying.  William knew Ryan was lying because William had something to hide once too, and Ryan wasn’t nearly as good or meticulous as he was in hiding it.  Besides, Aberdeen had said she didn’t think Ryan and Whitney were just friends, and William trusted her judgement.  “You’ve been eyeing her all night.  Just want to make sure you look around the room a bit.”

Ryan couldn’t help but chuckle.  “I’m good, Will.  Seems like she and Aberdeen get along great though.”

“Aberdeen loves her.  She’s wondering why it’s taking you so long to make Whitney your girlfriend.”

***

It was about 1:30 in the morning when everybody decided to leave.  Ryan only had one drink at the beginning of the night and water the rest of the time through, so he was good to drive.  When they arrived home, they walked in without a word to each other.  Both ended up in the kitchen, with Whitney getting glasses and pouring them some ice-cold water to have. 

“I wish you would be honest with me about what was bothering you tonight,” he said, still wanting to address the situation.  He knew it probably wasn’t the wisest thing to do, but he needed the truth from Whitney.

He doesn’t want you.  I feel bad for you.  “I could say the same,” she whispered before taking another sip of water.

It may have been a whisper, but Ryan definitely heard.  “When have I not been honest with you?”

Move on, Whitney.  “You tell me.”

“Whitney,” his voice was serious.  “What the hell are you talking about?  I’ve always been honest with you.  Now will you tell me what’s bothering you?”

Whitney finished her glass of water, wishing it was some sort of hard liquor that would give her liquid confidence.  “Rachael was at the game tonight.”

“Who’s Rachael?”

“You remember Joel’s girlfriend?”

“…Okay,” Ryan said.  “Did you guys see each other?  Did she say something?”

Whitney paused.  It was now or never.  She knew that every thought she ever had about this would come rushing out of her after she started talking, so she tried to compose herself ahead of time.  She didn’t want things to get messy.  “She said she couldn’t believe I was still waiting for you like I’ve always been,” she began.  “She said she felt bad for me, that I should have taken the opportunity to be with Binner when I had the chance.  She told me to move on because you’re never going to be with me.”

Ryan was silent.  The words hung between them as silence filled the air.  ‘”So do you?” Whitney asked out of the blue.  “Do you want to be with me?”

“You—you don’t want to be with me, Whit.”

Whitney couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  “Excuse me?  I cheated on my boyfriends with you, Snook.  And you think that?  You actually say that out loud?”

“Listen, Whit— I’d do anything for you.  You know that.”

“No you wouldn’t.  Stop lying to me,” her voice was getting angrier each passing second.  This was the moment.  This was it. 

“I’m not lying to you—”

“You won’t marry me.  You won’t even call me your girlfriend.  We’ve been doing this song and dance for ten years and you still won’t even call me your girlfriend.”

The words hung in the air again.  Ryan’s heart was almost beating out of his chest.  “You’re right, Whit.  I won’t marry you.”

Whitney could feel her cheeks flushing red.  She’d been rejected plenty of times before – but not by Ryan.  And, of course, never for something so big.  The way he said it made it sound so definitive.  “Why won’t you be with me, Snook?” her voice quivered.

“Sweetness…”

“What is it?  What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing!  Whit—Whit—my god—” Ryan’s voice was frantic.  “Why would you think you did anything wrong?”

“How could I not?” she demanded back.  “Is it because you don’t love me?”

“No!  I love you more than anyone else.  I’ve always loved you Whit.  You know that.  How—how could you say that?”

Whitney began shaking her head.  She didn’t understand why he was saying such things to her.  He wasn’t making any sense.  He loved her, but he couldn’t be with her.  She didn’t do anything wrong, but he didn’t want to be with her.  It was cutting deep; every word that came out of his mouth carving deeper and deeper into her.  She bolted from the kitchen and ran upstairs, Ryan following behind her calling her name.  “What’s wrong with me?  What’s wrong with me that you won’t be with me?” she demanded of him once they were in their bedroom.

“Nothing is wrong with you.  Not a thing.  You’re perfect.”

“Then why!!!” she began to cry.  “Then why, Snook?  We tell each other all the time how much we love each other.  We tell each other all the time that we’re the only ones for each other.  I mean it when I say it, Snook.  Do you?  I want to marry you.  I want to be your wife.  I want to have a family with you, Ry – only you.  I’m not having a family if it’s not with you.  Don’t you want that too?  With me?  Why don’t—why don’t you want that too?”

“I do.”

“You’re not making any sense!” she yelled, trying to wipe away her tears with the back of her hand.  “Why don’t you love me?”

“I love you more than anybody else Whit.  That’s—that’s why I can’t.”

“Why don’t you love me?” she asked again.  She wanted an honest answer out of him.

Ryan’s face was flushed now, too.  “I can’t marry you because of me, sweetness.  It has nothing to with you.  It never has and it never will.”

Whitney paused.  Was he seriously giving her the “it’s not you; it’s me” excuse during the most significant and momentous argument they’d ever had?  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’d ruin your life, Whit.”

Okay, now he truly wasn’t making any sense.  Nothing coming out of his mouth made sense.  “How could you possibly ruin my life when you are my life?” she asked.

Those words hit Ryan hard.  Hard.  Because he knew how true they were.  And for as long as their lives have been intertwined, she had been his life too.  “Whit…” his voice began trembling too now.  “Whit, you don’t understand.  I can’t—I can’t—”

“Ryan, you’re being—”

“—No, Whit, let me—”

“—You’re being irrational—”

“—No I’m not.  It’s not—I’ve thought about this.”

“No you haven’t.”

“Yes I have.  I can’t be with you.  I can’t marry you.”

“Yes you can.”

“No I can’t.  I—I—” he stuttered, not even bring able to bring himself to say the words out loud.  “I’ll hurt you.  Like I did before.”

There was silence between the two as the words hung in the air.  “What?” Whitney’s voice was much calmer than before.  “When did you ever hurt me?”

Ryan looked away.  He bit his lip, chest heaving up and down at how emotional he was getting.  He couldn’t even bear to think about it, let alone say it out loud.  The memories still paralyzed him.  They brought back so much hurt, so much pain.  “The accident, Whit,” he whispered.

“What accident?”

“Tim Horton’s.”

More silence.  The gears were trying to shift in Whitney’s mind, but they were stuck.  “You didn’t hurt me, Snook.”

Ryan finally looked at her again.  “How could you say that?  Of course I did,” he said through gritted teeth, the pain of remembering overcoming him.  “You called me that night to pick you up and I was supposed to keep you safe.  I gave you a concussion, Whitney.  I—you weren’t the same for months, and it was because of me.  I did that to you.”

Whitney began shaking her head, watching him as he sat down on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.  “Snook, no—”

“I don’t know how I even live with myself after hurting you.”

“Snook, no.  Listen to me—” she got down on her knees in front of him, trying to cradle his face in her hands, but he nodded them away.  He wasn’t deserving of it.  He believed he wasn’t deserving of such affection. He wasn’t worthy. 

“And I promised him,” Ryan whispered, tears falling down his face and evident even in his voice now.  “I promised Gareth I’d take care of you.  And I didn’t.  I did that to you.  I couldn’t—I didn’t—I—”

“—Snook—”

“—He was dead in the casket, Whit, and I p—I promised him—”

“—Snook please—”

“—I didn’t keep my promise, and what if—what if I hurt you again?  What if—”

“—You won’t—”

“—I love you more than anyone, Whit.  If I hurt you?  I can’t hurt you, and if we—there’s too much risk.  Because of me and how stupid I was.  I could hurt you again and—”

“—You won’t, you won’t, you won’t,” Whitney repeated desperately, hoping it would get through to him somehow.  “Snook, that’s in the past.  It’s okay.”

Ryan shook his head.  “It’s always with me that I did that to you.”

“C’mere,” she urged, and without another word she hugged tightly, his head in the crook of her neck as he cried.  She felt his tears on her skin there as she tried to calm him down by running her fingers through his hair or rubbing his back, but there was no use.  This was something that Ryan had been carrying deep, deep within him for years now, and she had no clue.  The revelation of it being the reason keeping them apart was enlightening, painful, and heartbreaking all at once.  “Let’s pretend it never happened, Ry.”

“I’ve tried.  I can’t.  Every time I try to erase the memory, I get lost in it.  All I can picture is you passed out beside me in the truck, or you in the hospital bed crying.  I hate myself for doing that to you.  I never got over it. I hate—I hate mys—”

“Shhhhh,” she cooed.  “Snook, there’s nobody else for me out there but you.”

“I know.  And I feel the same.  But I don’t deserve you after what I did.  I can’t take care of you.”

“Yes you do,” Whitney said.  “And yes you can.  You’re the only man in this world that can take care of me.”

“No.  No.  No,” he shook his head vigorously.  “I can’t take care of you if I hurt you.”

“Yes you can Snook, please,” she urged, tearing up again.  “Don’t do this to me.  Don’t make me live a life without you.  I can’t live a life without you, Snook.” 

They cried together.  It was the only thing they could do after the catharsis, after the truth had been revealed for both of them.  Ryan pulled her up and into his lap.  Whitney could feel Ryan gripping onto her, his cries still coming.  “I don’t want to live a life without you,” Ryan mumbled, “but I don’t know how I can live a life where I can take care of you how I want to…how I’m supposed to.  Up to my standards.  I promised Gareth.  I didn’t—I didn’t live up to it early on.  What if I never can?”

“I’m telling you that you can.  I’m telling you that you’re the only one,” Whitney said.  “You bought us this house, Snook.  This house is for us, right?”

“Yes.  For you, but for us.  I know it is.”

“Think about the memories we already have here.  And think about the memories we can make here,” she whispered, finally cradling his face in her hands as she stared directly into his eyes.  “The smell of your chicken soup.  The feel of your body against mine in our bed.  Think about it, Snook.  Think about our kids sliding across these hardwood floors.  Movie nights where we’re all cuddled on the sofa together under blankets.  Carting the kids around to hockey practice.  Bringing them up to Bluewater Beach to swim like we did when we were kids.  I want that with you, Snook.  D’you want that with me?”

His breath hitched in his throat at the thought of children – their children, with all their personality quirks and mops of hair and sandy toes from the beach.  “I want that more than anything.”

She made sure to kiss him quickly – a peck so small it almost didn’t register as a kiss.  “Then what’s stopping us?  Why can’t we do it?  Because you don’t feel like you can take care of me even though you have since I was seventeen?  You’ve taken care of me, Snook.  All this time.  You’ve taken care of my body.  You’re the only one that’s taken care of my body.   And more importantly, you’ve taken care of my mind, my soul.”

“I’ve taken care of you because I love you,” he whispered.

“Have I taken care of you?” Whitney asked.

Ryan nodded his head immediately.  “You always have.  Just by being you.  By being there for me.  By being my sweetness.”

“Then let’s do it.  You and me.  Because we love each other.  Because we’ve loved each other since we were kids.  Because we take care of each other.  Right?”

“Right.”

“If I take care of you, will you take care of me?”

Whitney waited.  She waited and she waited and she waited, looking into Ryan’s big blue eyes for a response.  The same blue eyes she fell in love with as a kid.  The same blue eyes that brought her so much comfort and love.  The same blue eyes she could find her own soul in.

Finally, he spoke.  “Yes.”

Whitney had waited a long time to hear those words.  She wanted to make sure she wasn’t hearing things.  She needed to confirm.  “Yes?”

He nodded.  “Yes.”

More confirmation was needed.  “We’ll get married, Snook?”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.  I’ve just been scared, sweetness.  We’ll get married,” he confirmed.  “I’ll give you everything.  I’ll take care of you.  I love, you Whit.”

She kissed him again, much more passionately this time.  “I love you, Snook,” she said against his lips.  “I can’t wait to be your wife.  We’re going to spend the rest of our lives taking care of each other, right?”

“Yes.  Yes,” he affirmed, kissing her again. 

Ryan held her tight onto his body as he moved back on to the bed.  They continued to kiss for a long time, long enough that Whitney’s lips got red and puffy, with Ryan whispering “I love you, I love you so much” over and over again like he was reciting a prayer.  To have Ryan be hers was all Whitney ever wanted, and she couldn’t believe they had finally gotten to this point.  After ten years and countless secrets, grief and elation and success, Ryan was able to overcome his fear.  Whitney was able to help him.  They would be able to live their lives now as they always wanted to; no longer in secret.  They could hold hands in front of their parents.  They could give each other quick kisses on the backyard deck.  They could wrap their arms around each other in front of friends.  Nobody would have to second-guess or question their love for one another.  They could just be how they were with each other in front of other people.  Whitney anticipated it to be the most liberating feeling in the world, to be able to proclaim that she loved Ryan O’Reilly, and Ryan O’Reilly loved her, and that they were going to build a life together.  A life they wanted.  A life they deserved together.

“Make love to me Snook,” she whispered in his hear as her hand played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Ryan took his time, kissing along her jawline before moving down to her neck and clavicle, covering every inch of her skin with his kisses.  He helped her get out of her shirt and bra before she helped tug his own shirt off.  Whitney quickly leaned back so Ryan could take her pants and underwear off – same with him – before she got back into his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders so they were physically close.

“I love you, Snook.”

“I love you too, sweetness.”

“You need to know you’ve never hurt me before in my life,” she stressed.  “Not even the accident.  Never, okay Snook?”

Ryan nodded his head.  “Let me kiss you.”

Their lips crashed together again, their tongues stuck down each other’s throats.  Whitney made sure to run her fingers through his hair, because she knew he liked that.  Ryan made sure to drag his hands down to her hips, squeezing at the flesh there and making her grind into his lap before moving his hands onto her ass.  “You need to know something too,” he said, his voice low.

“What’s that?”

“It’s always been you, Whit.  Since we were kids.  I’ll take care of you until the day I die.”

Those were words Whitney had wanted to hear for a long time, considering he was saying them now in the context of her being his wife.  She felt so elated and so happy that it was almost as if the ten years of waiting was worth it.  “Make love to me, Snook.  Like you love to do.”

One of his hands snuck between their bodies so he could position his hard cock at her entrance.  He took the opportunity to tease her only for a few seconds before pushing it in.  Whitney grinded her hips in his lap, getting him all the way inside her.  She paused, her mouth open against Ryan’s.  She didn’t care how many times it happened; every time he was inside of her, Whitney swore she saw stars.  “You’re so big, Snook.  So perfect for me.”

“Love you so fucking much, Whit,” he whispered in her ear.  His hands moved back to her hips, helping guide them as she moved in his lap.

“God you feel so good,” she whispered, leaning back slightly and exposing more of her neck and decolletage to Ryan.  He took the opportunity to kiss her everywhere, leaving some love bits on the way as he licked and sucked at her skin.  Eventually, he made his way down to her breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, causing her to sigh in pleasure.  Her nails were digging into his back; she was holding on to him for dear life.  “Keep doing that, Snook.”

He kept up with his kissing and love bites between her breasts, eventually moving to the other and taking the other nipple in his mouth too.  Whitney continued her movements in his lap, and he could tell that she was trying to make this last.  Good.  If it were up to him, it would last all night.  He’d test the limits of what was physically possible.  “You’re so beautiful, Whit.  I could kiss every inch of you.”

“You’re lucky you have,” she couldn’t help but smile.  “And you’re going to get to the rest of your life.”

They looked deep into each other’s eyes then, the heat of their bodies radiating between them.  “I can’t wait for you to be the mother of my children.”

Whitney smiled widely this time, unable to contain it.  “I can’t wait, either.”

“Don’t think I didn’t ever want that with you.  I did.  I always did.  I was just scared—”

“—It’s okay, Snook,” she put her index finger on his lips.  “You don’t have to be scared of hurting me anymore.”

He kissed her, unable to say anything else.  Whitney began running her hands through his hair.  They kissed again for a while, until both could feel their orgasms building.  “I love you, Snook.  Will you come inside me?”

Ryan nodded quickly.  “Always,” he said.  “I’m the only one.”

“That’s right.  You’re the only one that gets to come inside me.”

After some more kissing, both Ryan and Whitney felt their orgasms rush through their bodies at the same time.  Whitney held him close, gripping on to Ryan for dear life, their heads on each other’s shoulders as they cried out in ecstasy.  They let it last as long as possible, riding it out for as much as they could before their breath started to come back to them and they sunk into each other’s arms. 

Whitney was the first to pull back slightly, only to have her lips meet with Ryan’s again in a series of small, slow, lazy pecks.  She could rest her lips on him all night if she could.  “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“Will you hold me in your arms as we sleep?”

Ryan couldn’t help but smile.  “You never have to ask me that.  I’ll always hold you.”

They shifted positions, Ryan pulling the covers off the bed and Whitney getting under them.  She snuggled into his body as he draped the covers over them, and he wrapped his arms around her when he was done, making sure she was comfortable.  “Hey Whit?”

“Yeah Snook?”

“I’m sorry you were waiting for me.”

Whitney couldn’t help but smile slightly to herself.  There was no reason for him to feel guilty.  It took a while, yes, but this was their story.  And it would always be their story now.  “Don’t apologize,” she said.  “I have you.  That’s all I need.”

[cdyssey]

Tropes Draft #1: Apocalypse

Hi there! My friends @nakedmonkey, @smashingmagicklovely, @fat-fem-and-asian, and @harrietdyker played a game on Discord this week where we drafted a cast for a film based on common tropes in an apocalypse story, and now we're looking to settle a winner via poll! See short synopses of each movie under cut, but, of course, you're welcome just to vote based on vibes alone! At the end of the week, we'll reveal whose film was which.

[01.] sarah snook and ayo edebiri star in indie zombie drama ALL OF THE MEN ARE DEAD. snook plays alice, a world weary survivor trying to locate her younger sibling lachlan (liv hewson), who vanished after a fight. she rescues lost survivors brianna (ayo edebiri) and her younger sister lily (violet mcgraw), along with their dog tiger (DITTO THE DOG ! #1 on the call sheet) from a horde of zombies. In return, brianna says that she met lachlan a few weeks ago and directed them to the safe zone her mother zoya (sheryl lee ralph) leads before getting separated. she offers alice the same safety if they find their way back. despite her growing fondness for lily, alice can't shake a feeling of unease with her new companions. how does brianna know these lands so well? how did lily know alice's name? why did they leave the safe zone at all?

[02.] At Rainbow House, everyone is welcome and treated like family. At least, that’s what Eleanor Glass (Academy Award nominee Sigourney Weaver) and her wife Marcia (Academy Award winner Allison Janney) intended when they opened their LGBTQ youth center, which is under existential threat by the ominous corporation CTOA, headed by Maxwell Price (Academy Award nominee Colman Domingo). Now, in the aftermath of a nuclear apocalypse, Eleanor and Marcia have made efforts to turn the center into a safe house for all those who lost everything. Alongside longtime program director Charlie (Academy Award winner Ian McKellen) and Eleanor’s street-smart protege Sunny (Emmy winner Zendaya), they work tirelessly to protect everyone - even as CTOA continues its efforts to dismantle the organization. But when Price and his daughter Ashlyn (Emmy nominee Jenna Ortega) show up seeking shelter, Eleanor and Marcia must choose between their commitment to welcoming everyone as equals and their fight with Maxwell Price. Sunny’s secret relationship with Ashlyn complicates matters further, not to mention the possibility that CTOA had more to do with this nuclear fallout than anyone could have expected. Nominated for 4 Academy Awards including Best Original Screenplay and Best Actress (Weaver), Everyone’s Inn is a bold tale about love, found family, and the secrets we keep.

[03.] The Letum Project: In a near distant future, the lethal Letum Virus that targets both the developmental and nervous systems simultaneously is turning victims into distorted, violent walking corpses, and is running rampant, dismantling societal infrastructures at a rapid pace and wreaking havoc on a global scale. A team of elite medical professionals, spearheaded by Dr. Freya Wright (Olivia Colman) and partner Dr. August Beck (Mads Mikkelsen), has been working tirelessly in an underground facility to find a cure for the past 10 months, but an unexpected death in the team brings into question what the motivation behind the project really is. Propelled by the mysterious and tragic death of her wife and fellow researcher, Allison Harris (Rebecca Hall), and the unexplained disappearance of friend and mentor, Dr. Amelia Bailey (Harriet Walker), Dr. Greta Harris (Dagmara Dominczyk) embarks on a rogue quest to find answers along with colleague and famed vascular neurologist, Gabrielle Gomez (Gina Torres). What they find above ground is a nightmarish scene; entire towns of infected people left to rot in now fenced zones, while survivors now live off of rationed food and essentials in a highly militarized state, the rich prioritized over the poor. But those aren’t the only truths Greta is forced to face. Allison and Gabrielle had been working alongside Amelia on a project they had kept from the rest of the team; a potential cure that might have been successful had Allison not found herself suddenly infected. Betrayed by the revelation, and now finding themselves hunted by Dr. Wright and Dr. Beck, Greta is left to wonder if there’s anyone left to trust. Aided only by sporadic morse code messages received through an old radio left to them by an anonymous source shortly before their escape from the facility, Greta and Gabrielle embark on a dangerous quest to find out.

[04.] Gödshead: A deadly virus has ravaged North America, leaving only sparse pockets of healthy populations behind in its wake: small towns and even smaller villages, family compounds, isolated homesteads surrounded by barbed wire fences. For years, former real estate agent Parker Kingston (Tawny Cypress) lived in such a protected home with her two daughters, the responsible Audrey (Jasmin Savoy-Brown) and the younger, far more rebellious Ryan (Amandla Stenberg), but the start of the film finds both Parker and Ryan reeling after a raider attack results in Audrey’s death and the sudden loss of their home. Grief-stricken, wounded, and utterly undone, mother and daughter must carry on anyway, taking sanctuary in a heavily walled village called Gödshead. Though their personal relationship is tumultuous, both Kingston women settle into something of a routine in the quaint village as they get to know its colorful denizens. They share a house with Dr. Hutchings (Paul Giamatti), a cantankerous but well-meaning history professor; Parker forges an intimate bond with Marnie Thompson (Samantha Sloyan), a kind if strangely fragile teacher who takes care of the village’s children while their parents work. They also get to know Mayor Willa Thompson (Frances McDormand), Marnie’s mother, whose stern but fair hand has ensured the village’s continued prosperity. But what exactly is the price of prosperity in an apocalypse? Parker and Ryan soon discover that there’s more to the village that lies beneath its seemingly peaceful surface—indeed that the trade-off for peace is a sacrifice that all citizens of Gödshead must be prepared to make. Winters are brutal in the mountains, and meat is scarce; there’s a lottery every winter in Gödshead, and everyone has a number.

[05.] The Sick: The zombie apocalypse did not end the world as we know it. Nobody knows how the infection works, who can pass it on and why, and what, exactly, it does to a person: they just know who is sick. They just know who to kill. When Claire (Romola Garai), an exhausted local news reporter, is assigned to report on Refuge, an organisation fighting to protect the hunted sick, she finds out her best friend, the good-hearted Raul (Diego Luna), has been a part of the organisation for months now, but she does not get to confront him about it before he strangely dies. Claire takes it upon herself to get his latest case, the young and funny Layla (Hunter Schafer) to safety in his honor. With the help of Raul’s boss, the eccentric Eddie (Ncuti Gatwa), they go on a cross-country journey towards the shelter built by Refuge. But on their way, Claire’s investigative tendencies can’t let go of the feeling that Eddie is hiding something, and Layla is getting sicker, worried for her companions’ safety around her. It’s a rest-stop encounter with Harper (Harriet Dyer) that gives Claire her answers and Layla the opportunity to protect her friends: a former colleague of Eddie, left to die by Eddie after getting infected, Harper, now part of a resistance organisation fighting for liberation of the sick, is out for revenge, but revenge is not as clear-cut a thing as people think. She tries to convince Layla to abandon Claire and Eddie’s shelter idea and join her, because Eddie can’t be trusted and Claire is too naive. And if Claire was not conflicted enough about the discovery, Raul’s cousin, the mysterious Mateo (Vico Ortiz), who blames Eddie for Raul’s death, is working with Harper, and tries to convince Claire to join the revolution, too, so she won’t die in it.

[petnews2day]

Salty Dog, Snook Inn, American Legion crowned champs

New Post has been published on https://petn.ws/8nGqQ

Salty Dog, Snook Inn, American Legion crowned champs

Randy Wesolowski and Kevin Byrnes |  Marco Island Senior Softball League It was a season where parity was a constant theme, as exhibited in the tournament where in all three divisions a lower seed rose up to claim the tournament championship. Salty Dog continued one of the hottest streaks in league history winning 13 of […]

See full article at https://petn.ws/8nGqQ #DogNews #Fl, #American, #AmericanLegion, #Baseball, #Island, #K12, #Legion, #Marco, #MarcoIsland, #News, #Overall, #OverallPositive, #Positive, #Primary, #PrimaryU0026SecondarySchoolingK12, #Schooling, #Secondary, #Sports, #SportsNews, #Team, #TeamSports, #U0026

[ryadav07]

A Morning Of Dolphins & Shells With Marco Island’s “The Dolphin Explorer” Boat Tour

[…] in 2020 After spending a morning learning about the local ecosystem and spotting dolphins, The Dolphin Explorer dropped us off on one of the more remote barrier islands in the 10,000 Islands National Wildlife Refuge. Here, we had about an hour and a half to explore the beach, collect shells, and enjoy the pristine natural beauty of the island.

Best time to visit Marco Island Marco Island boasts pleasant weather throughout the year, with average temperatures ranging from the low 60s in the winter months to the high 80s in the summer months. However, the best time to visit Marco Island is from November to April, as the weather is generally mild, and you can avoid the high humidity and occasional afternoon rainstorms that prevail during the later part of summer. This is also the prime time for dolphin sightings, as the dolphins are more active during the cooler months.

Best places to eat on Marco Island There are plenty of delicious dining options on Marco Island to cater to any taste. Some of the top recommended eateries in the area include:

Snook Inn: Known for its fresh seafood and casual waterfront dining, the Snook Inn is a popular spot among tourists and locals alike. Their grouper sandwich and mahi-mahi tacos are must-try dishes.

CJ’s on the Bay: Located at the Esplanade Shoppes, CJ’s on the Bay is great for enjoying a meal while overlooking the waterfront. They offer a diverse menu including seafood, steaks, and pasta.

DaVinci’s Ristorante Italiano: This family-owned and operated restaurant serves Italian classics made from scratch, such as homemade pasta and delicious tiramisu.

The Sand Bar: A casual and laid-back spot, the Sand Bar offers a variety of burgers and sandwiches. Don't miss their signature coconut shrimp.

NeNe’s Kitchen: For a hearty breakfast or brunch, head to NeNe’s Kitchen. Their crab cake eggs Benedict and banana nut pancakes are local favorites.

Total cost of travel to Marco Island The total cost of a trip to Marco Island will vary depending on your preferred travel style and transportation method:

Airfare: Major airlines typically fly into Fort Myers (RSW), which is about an hour's drive from Marco Island. Roundtrip airfare from within the United States usually ranges from $200 - $500, but may be higher during peak travel season.

Accommodations: You'll find a variety of lodging options on Marco Island, from budget motels to upscale resorts. Rates can vary from around $100 per night for a budget option to $400+ per night for a luxury resort stay.

Transportation: If you're flying into Fort Myers, you'll need to rent a car or arrange for a shuttle to get to Marco Island. Car rentals

[nicorealestateluxury]

Like a beautiful sunset over #SWFL , HOPE IS ON THE HORIZON! 🌅💪 The following spots from Marco Island to Cape Coral are posting some messages of hope and levity as they #buildbackbetter post #HurricaneIan: MARCO ISLAND: The Snook Inn 🐬 The Snook Inn on Marco Island promises to come back better than ever! You can Follow their journey through Instagram @snookinnmarco or Facebook by following them Snook Inn Restaurant & Chickee Bar @snookinnmarco NAPLES: The Boathouse On Naples Bay ⛵️ The Boat House On Naples Bay Is determined to come back better and stronger and shows its progress on their Instagram account! Their Instagram handle is @boathouseonnaplesbay or their Facebook page, The Boathouse on Naples Bay NORTH NAPLES: The Turtle Club 🐢 The beloved Turtle Club at Vanderbilt Beach said it best; "Hope Is On The Horizon!" They are cleaning up and can't wait to have us all back! You can follow their Instagram @turtleclubnaples or their Facebook page, The Turtle Club Restaurant on Vanderbilt Beach BONITA SPRINGS: Docs Beach House 🏝 A little levity in this tragedy is brought to us by Docs Beach House in Bonita Springs! They don't know when, but their rebuilding has already started! You can follow them on Instagram @docsbeach or their Facebook page, Doc's Beach House for more updates! FT MYERS BEACH: Doc Fords 🌴 Doc Fords at Ft Myers Beach posts messages of hope as their jouney of rebuilding has also begun! You can follow them on Instagram @docfords or their Facebook page, Doc Ford's Rum Bar & Grille CAPE CORAL: Fathoms 🥂 Fathoms in Cape Coral will be back! They aren't sure when they'll be open but also promise to have things back up and running when they can! You can follow them on Instagram @fathomsfl #hurricaneianrecovery #SWFLSTRONG #southwestflorida #nicoparedesrealtor #RebuildSWFL #hopeisonthehorizon #theplacetobe #paradise You can follow them on Instagram @fathomsfl (at Naples, Florida) https://www.instagram.com/p/CjoAT77gqyd/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[lostslideshows]

“Caught at Snook-hole Motel” - Marco Island, FL - 1963

*The Snook-Hole Motel is now the Snook Inn located at 1281 Lee Ave. Marco Island, Fl.

[papermoonloveslucy]

NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH

May 3, 1943

The  Screen Guild Theater presents Nothing But The Truth, which was a 1941 Paramount Pictures release.

Produced by: Arthur Hornblow Jr. 

Directed by: Elliott Nugent

Written by: Ken Englund, John Hartman

Synopsis ~ Gwen Saunders teams up with her uncle's employee, Steve Bennett, in an attempt to double her $10,000 investment in the family firm. If she can reach the $20,000 mark, her uncle T.T. Ralston will match the figure. Steve bets that if he can spend an entire day without telling a lie, Ralston and his business partners must double Gwen's money. Bennett then earns the enmity of everyone involved in his attempt to win the bet.

The Screen Guild Theater (aka The Screen Guild Players), was one of the most popular drama anthology series during the Golden Age of Radio. At this point it is being sponsored by Gulf Oil. From its first broadcast in 1939, up to its farewell in 1952, it showcased radio adaptations of popular Hollywood films. Many Hollywood names became part of the show, including Bette Davis, Bing Crosby, Clark Gable, Judy Garland, Frank Sinatra, and many more. The actors’ fees were all donated to the Motion Picture Relief Fund, an organization that provides aid to retired actors. Screen Guild Theater was heard on different radio networks, beginning with CBS from 1939 to 1948, NBC from 1948 to 1950, ABC from 1950 to 1951, and back to CBS until its last episode on June 29, 1952. Throughout its run, a total of 527 episodes were produced.

The radio show brought movies to radio for thirty minutes each Monday evening on CBS. The show aired for 242 programs beginning with “Yankee Doodle Dandy” starring James Cagney and ending with “My Reputation.” In between were all time classics such as “Casablanca” with Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman, “Sergeant York” with Gary Cooper and “Holiday Inn” with Bing Crosby, Fred Astaire, and Dinah Shore.

At this point in its history, the series is sponsored by Lady Esther Cosmetics. 

Nothing But The Truth was a 1941 comedy starring Bob Hope and Paulette Goddard, their third movie together in three years. The premise of the film, that the protagonist must tell the truth for the next 24 hours, is based on a play of the same name written by James Montgomery, itself loosely adapted from the novel by Frederic S. Isham. The book and play had previously formed the basis of an earlier movie, also called Nothing But the Truth, starring Richard Dix and Wynne Gibson. The 1941 film follows the plot of the play much more closely than the 1929 version. The same premise was used for a 1997 Jim Carrey movie, Liar Liar. In 1952, television adaptations were aired in both the US and Canada, and in 1958 in the UK.  

Nothing But The Truth was also presented on radio’s “Old Gold Comedy Theatre” on  January 14, 1945 starring Anne Baxter and Alan Young.

CAST

Lucille Ball

(Gwenn Ralston) was just finished filming of

Best Foot Forward,

her 58th film, which would be released later in 1943. 

Ball plays the role originated by Paulette Goddard. 

Frank Morgan (Steve Bennett, a stock broker / Frank Morgan) is probably best remembered as Professor Marvel and The Wizard in The Wizard of Oz (1939). He had just finished filming Thousands Cheer with Lucille Ball, and the two had also done The Affairs of Cellini in 1934. 

Morgan plays the role originated by Bob Hope. 

Hanley Stafford (T.T. Ralston, Gwenn’s Brother) was born Alfred Austin in 1899 and changed his name to Hanley Stafford to honor his birthplace, Hanley, Staffordshire in England. He was a radio actor famous for playing Baby Snooks’ father. A 1962 episode of “The Lucy Show” was his final screen credit.

Stafford plays the role originated by Edward Arnold. 

Herb Vigran (Muscles) was a character actor from the 1930s to the 1980s.  Over his 50-year career, he made over 350 television and film appearances, many with Lucille Ball or for Desilu. Vigran occasionally turned up on Lucille Ball’s radio show, “My Favorite Husband” (1948-50) and on “I Love Lucy” in various roles. 

Truman Bradley (Announcer) 

Cynthia Ralston, Linda Graham, Iron Man, are played by uncredited performers.  

“TRUTH” TRIVIA

In addition to Bob Hope, one of Lucille Ball’s frequent on screen collaborators, the film also featured Will Wright in an uncredited role. On “I Love Lucy” Wright played the Yonkers locksmith and Sheriff of Ben Fork, Tennessee.  

The film also features Leon Belasco as Dr. Zarak. On “I Love Lucy” he played the art store clerk in “Lucy Becomes a Sculptress” (ILL S2;E15), first aired on January 15, 1953. He has done two other movies with Lucille Ball between 1939 and 1944. He also appeared in three episodes of “The Lucy Show”, all playing the violin. 

In this radio version Hanley Stafford plays T.T. Ralston. His final screen credit was as Kenneth Westcott, Principal of Danfield High School, in “Lucy is a Chaperone” (TLS S1;E27) on April 8, 1963.

From late 1942 to July 1947 Lady Esther Cosmetics sponsored the show which had been previously sponsored by Gulf Oil. It was first known as the “Lady Esther Presents the Screen Guild Players” and then became “The Lady Esther Screen Guild Theater.”

A wager whether someone can keep from lying for 24 hours is also the premise of “Lucy Tells the Truth” (ILL S3;E6) aired on November 9, 1953. Like Steve Bennett, Lucy is put to the test, resulting in some brutal honesty that hurts people’s feelings.   

The commercials are delivered by ‘Lady Esther,’ the spokeswoman for the Lady Esther Cosmetics company. Both commercial breaks pitch anti-aging Lady Esther Face Powder. 

Meta Morgan!  At one point in the narrative, Gwenn tries to convince someone that they didn’t hear Steve (who is hiding under her bed), but heard Frank Morgan on the radio!   

After the story ends, Lucille Ball does a pitch for student nurses.  “War work with a future - as a nurse.” 

CREDITS

Announcer Truman Bradley verbally thanks Paramount Pictures, and says that their latest film is China, starring Loretta Young and Alan Ladd. 

Henry Morgan can currently be seen in MGM’s The Human Comedy.

Lucille Ball will soon be seen in MGM’s Du Barry Was A Lady.

[blackkudos]

Earl King

Earl Silas Johnson IV (February 7, 1934 – April 17, 2003), known as Earl King, was an American singer, guitarist, and songwriter, most active in blues music. A composer of blues standards such as "Come On" (covered by Jimi Hendrix, Freddy King, Stevie Ray Vaughan) and "Big Chief" (recorded by Professor Longhair), he was an important figure in New Orleans R&B.

Biography

King was born in New Orleans, Louisiana, United States. His father was a piano player. He died when Earl was still a baby, and Earl was brought up by his mother. With his mother, he started going to church at an early age. In his youth he sang gospel music, but he took the advice of a friend to switch to blues to make a better living.

King started to play the guitar at the age of 15. Soon he started entering talent contests at local clubs, including the Dew Drop Inn. At one such club he met his idol, Guitar Slim. King started imitating Slim, and his presence had a big impact on his musical direction. In 1954, Slim was injured in an automobile accident (right around the time he had the number 1 R&B hit "The Things That I Used To Do"), and King was deputized to continue a tour with Slim's band, representing himself as Slim. After succeeding in this role, King became a regular at the Dew Drop Inn.

His first recording was made in 1953. As Earl Johnson, he released a 78-rpm record, "Have You Gone Crazy"/"Begging at Your Mercy", for Savoy Records. The following year, the talent scout Johnny Vincent introduced King to Specialty Records, for which he recorded some sides, including "Mother's Love", which was locally popular. In 1955, King signed with Vincent's label, Ace. His first single for that label, "Those Lonely, Lonely Nights", was a hit, reaching number 7 on the Billboard R&B chart. He continued to record for Ace for the next five years. During that time, he also he started writing songs for other artists, such as Roland Stone and Jimmy Clanton.

In 1960, Dave Bartholomew invited King to record for Imperial Records. In sessions for that label, he was backed by a host of musicians, including Bob French, George French, James Booker, and Wardell Quezergue. It was at this label he recorded his signature songs "Come On" and "Trick Bag". The former has been a much-covered standard for decades, notably recorded by Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughan and Anson Funderburgh. The latter has also been widely covered, with versions by the Meters and Robert Palmer. King co-wrote a number of songs with Bartholomew, either under his own name or under the pseudonym "E.C. King".

King recorded for Imperial until 1963. He went without a recording contract for the rest of the 1960s. During this time, he mostly concentrated on producing and songwriting for the local labels NOLA and Watch. His compositions from this era include "Big Chief", recorded by Professor Longhair; "Teasin' You", recorded by Willie Tee; and "Do-Re-Mi", recorded by Lee Dorsey. He went to Detroit for an audition with Motown Records and recorded a few tracks in the mid-1960s. Three tracks from that session are included on the album Motown's Blue Evolution, released in 1996.

In 1972, he was joined by Allen Toussaint and the Meters to record the album Street Parade. Atlantic Records initially showed interest in releasing it but eventually declined. The title track was released as a single on the Kansu label at the time, but the rest was unreleased until 1982, when the album was issued by Charly Records in the UK.

In the 1970s, he recorded another album, That Good Old New Orleans Rock 'n Roll, which was released by Sonet in 1977. He also appeared on the album New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival 1976.

In the early 1980s, King met Hammond Scott, the co-owner of Black Top Records, and started to record for the label. The first album Glazed, on which he was backed by Roomful of Blues, was released in 1986. This particular album was nominated for a Grammy Award. A second album, Sexual Telepathy, released in 1990, featured Snooks Eaglin on two tracks and backing by Ronnie Earl & The Broadcasters on some tracks. He recorded his third album for Black Top, Hard River to Cross (1993), with backing by George Porter, Jr., David Torkanowsky, and Herman V. Ernest III.

In 2001, King was hospitalized for an illness during a tour of New Zealand in 1981, but that did not stop him from performing. In December of the same year, he toured Japan. and he continued to perform off and on locally in New Orleans until his death.

King died on April 17, 2003, from diabetes-related complications, just a week before the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival. His funeral was held on April 30, during the festival, and many musicians attended it, including Dr. John, Leo Nocentelli and Aaron Neville. His Imperial recordings, which had long been out of print, were reissued on CD soon after he died. The June 2003 issue of OffBeat, a local music magazine, paid tribute to King with a series of articles on him.

Discography

Albums

1977: That Good Old New Orleans Rock 'n Roll (Sonet)

1982: Street Parade (Charly, recorded in 1972)

1986: Glazed (Black Top)

1990: Sexual Telepathy (Black Top)

1993: Hard River to Cross (Black Top)

Compilation albums

1982: Trick Bag (Imperial/Pathe Marconi) Imperial

1997: Earl's Pearls: The Very Best of Earl King 1955–1960 (Westside) Ace

2003: Come On: The Complete Imperial Recordings (Okra-Tone) Imperial

2005: New Orleans Blues (Tomato) recorded for Atlantic in 1972, unreleased

2006: The Chronological Earl King 1953–1955 (Classics) Savoy, Specialty, Ace

2016: Come On: 40 Original Rhythm & Blues Classics (Not Now Music)

[ritenotes]

The Stewardship of Grace #5 Ephesians 1:4  "According as he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before him in love"

[dustinreidmusic]

Mac's Wild Years: By Michael Hurtt.  Originally published in Offbeat Magazine

Mac Rebennack was born in 1941. Dr. John was born in 1967. What happened in between would color his whole musical career. "In New Orleans, everything--food, music, religion, even the way people talk and act--has deep, deep roots; and, like the tangled veins of cypress roots that meander this way and that in the swamp, everything in New Orleans is interrelated, wrapped around itself in ways that aren't always obvious."--Mac Rebennack In 1967, Malcolm Rebennack, Jr., exiled to the West Coast after a final drug bust that forbid him "to go to or through New Orleans," donned face paint, glitter and plumes and emerged as Dr. John the Night Tripper. His debut album Gris-Gris, and the stage shows that followed it, hawked a brand of psychedelic New Orleans R&B that mixed Mardi Gras Indian street chants with the primal gospel of holiness churches, the pianistic funk of Professor Longhair, heavy doses of hoodoo mysticism and nearly every shred of ritualistic South Louisiana culture that he'd absorbed during his decade and a half in the New Orleans music scene. From the drag shows at the Dew Drop Inn to the electric guitar evangelizing of the Reverend Utah Smith, it was a netherworld far stranger and more colorful than anything the pioneer of voodoo rock could have dreamed up. His role in it, though often been eclipsed by his later metamorphosis, established a reputation that would inform every aspect of his later musical life. Populated by high school greasers, high-rolling gangsters, down-and-out dope fiends and jive-talking record men, it was a world that had rapidly begun evaporating with the election of District Attorney Earling Carothers "Jim" Garrison in 1961. Prior to his widely known investigation into the Kennedy assassination, Garrison made his name locally by leading a systematic crack down on Crescent City vice that padlocked night clubs, juke joints and gambling dens. He often led the raids himself, pistol in hand, and by 1963 had managed to single-handedly dismantle the around-the-clock-party that had been Rebennack's entire young life. It had been one of after-hours jam sessions that lasted well into the next day, followed by "record dates" that produced aural snapshots that just reeked with crazed rock 'n' roll atmosphere: Jerry Byrne's frantic "Lights Out" and "Carry On," Roland Stone's narcotic anthem "Junco Partner," and Mac's own sinister, tremelo-charged "Storm Warning." "If we didn't have an artist and we had some studio time we'd just be the artist," Rebennack says of the sessions that produced hundreds of singles under monikers from Ronnie and the Delinquents to Drits and Dravy. The former's 1959 "Bad Neighborhood" was a greasy period piece if there ever was one. Meant to commemorate "the end of the zoot suit era," its gleeful lines of "Lie, steal, drink all day / good folks try to keep away," was an outright celebration of the lifestyle that Garrison sought to eliminate. And the Delinquents moniker was really no joke. "When we hired Ronnie Barron to be the singer with us, he was a li'l thug," says Rebennack, who'd had remarkably bad luck with great front men thus far. "We lost more singers to the penitentiary," he says, naming nearly everyone who preceded Barron with the exception of Frankie Ford. "Deadeye went to the joint for manslaughter, Jerry Byrne fell and went up for statutory rape, then Roland Stone went up on narcotics." Local disc jockey Jim Stewart once recalled that Rebennack's teenage bands "were always high, always late." But somehow through the haze, Mac would manage to simultaneously wear the hats of talent scout, A&R man, composer, producer, arranger, session musician, and when the need arose, singer. It might have stayed that way had Barron not refused to take on the Dr. John persona, which was invented with him in mind. Rebennack had started flirting with drugs when he was 12, already well seasoned in the art of skipping school and Mass to catch the street car to the early morning R&B jams at the Brass Rail. Since his father owned an appliance store that serviced jukeboxes, his childhood was spent wearing out stacks of hillbilly, jazz and blues 78s when they came off the boxes. Schooled on "Pinetop's Boogie Woogie" by his piano-playing aunt, he soon took up the guitar. By the time rock 'n' roll hit during his freshman year at Jesuit High School, he was more than ready. At Jesuit, Rebennack formed his first band the Dominos, with Henry Guerineau, then joined Guerineau's the Spades with whom he played "the Holy Father Circuit," as he refers it, starring at CYO dances from Redemptorist in the Irish Channel to Saint Anthony's in Mid-City. His teachers were current and future Fats Domino guitarists Papoose Nelson and Roy Montrell, who took an axe to young Mac's brand new green and black Harmony guitar. "He broke it all up, called my Pa and said, 'Mr. Rebennack, I ain't teachin' your son on that piece of shit. Go pick him out something nice.' I thought I was going to get killed. My Pa was hip, though. He knew it wasn't about the guitar as much as having that guitar to bring on the gig." Montrell took Mac to a pawnshop where he picked out a Gibson that he worked off lugging appliances for his dad. "My father didn't say a word til later," Rebennack wrote in his autobiography Under a Hoodoo Moon. "Apparently Roy had taken him aside and told him, 'I taught your son a lesson, that you don't get things because of the way they look. You get them on how they work." "He had a way of teaching that kept me coming back for more. During the lesson, he strung me along with ordinary riffs--but then right at the end he'd play some killer lick, his back turned so I couldn't see his fingers, and say, 'Hey, wanna learn that shit, kid? Come back next week. Now get the fuck outta here." Having already met studio owner Cosimo Matassa, who was a friend of his father, Rebennack spent his schooldays honing his songwriting skills. "Man, I used to go to school, I had a couple of comic books where the outside cover looked like a loose leaf binder. And I'd sit there in class reading that. They thought I was doing something in school but I'd be sitting there writing songs, ripping them off from Mad or Tales from the Crypt." He'd also begun hanging out at Warren Easton High School on Canal Street, a hotbed of hip musical activity that had already birthed New Orleans first bona-fide white rock 'n' roll band, the Sparks. It was here that he first encountered saxophonist Leonard James, whose band was blasting out a set of Sam Butera songs in the school gymnasium. It turned out that James knew all about the Brass Rail too, and dug the same hard-driving sounds as Rebennack did. They were soon rehearsing at James' house in the notorious St. Roch park neighborhood with guitarist Earl Stanley--now playing the recently introduced electric bass--and drummer Paul Staehle. "Leonard lived on Robertson not too far from the park and Stanley used to live around there on Dauphine," Rebennack says. "One of the things St. Roch Park was known for was as a good cop spot. St. Roch church was famous, too, because they'd take the grease out the bells by the cemetery, mix it with some graveyard dirt and some gun powder, add extra nitrate and put that all together with Patchouli oil to make goofy dust. Now, what you did with it was according to how rank a motherfucker you were." The mysterious worlds of drugs and hoodoo fascinated young Mac, but in his new musical partners he found an even deeper magic. "Paul Staehle was bad. I remember him having drum battles with Edward Blackwell and all the top drummers. And Stanley had a finger-plucking style of guitar like Snooks did, North Mexican shit that he'd learned from his daddy. He was into Earl King and Guitar Slim just like I was. We liked those cats because they did something different." Rebennack had picked up on the flamboyance of his guitar heroes a little too acutely for the priests at Jesuit, who'd brought his high school career to a halt after a Christmas talent show where they accused him of making "lewd gyrations" with his instrument. The real beef, Henry Guerineau later told Tad Jones, was that they were playing R&B instead of big band swing or Dixieland. "At the time," he recalled, "it was heresy." Stanley, who became the Spades' guitarist after Rebennack left the band, was having his own issues over at Nicholls High. "I used to hang with the gangsters, all the tough guys," Stanley says. "I was so bad they threw me out of Nicholls but they couldn't throw me out of school. So they asked me to leave and I went to McDonough on Esplanade for a couple of months, then I quit when I was 15. That was in '55. "I didn't know Mac when he was in the Spades. I just remember seeing him playing guitar at the dances. I thought, 'That guy's pretty good.' Then I got with Leonard and through Leonard I met Mac. They had a guy playing piano with them, Hal Farrar, he went by the stage names 'King Helo Attaro' and 'Spider Boy.' Now Hal was a character, he was the character of them all; the main lunatic. He liked to drink vodka, he could care less about anything, just a wild man. He used to have this Cugat jacket he'd wear and he'd play piano and try to do all of Little Richard's stuff. He even had the little moustache. In fact, he recorded the original demo of 'I've Been Hoodood' (later to become the flip side of the Dr. John hit "Right Place, Wrong Time") with Leonard." Vocalists Wayne "Deadeye" Herring and Jerry Byrne were also drifting into the group at this point. "We used to do the old low-down blues," Herring told Jones. "There weren't too many white bands that could do it. Back then if you sat in with a black band, boy, they'd jump on your ass when you come outside. People took a dim view of that but we did it anyway." While band names revolved from the Skyliners to the Loafers to the Night Trains to the Thunderbirds, the foundation remained James, Rebennack, Stanley and Staehle. "Crippled" Eddie Hynes and Eddie Shroeder often floated in on trombone and baritone sax respectively. "Whether it was Leonard's band or my band, it was all pretty much the same crew of guys," says Rebennack, "Nothing really changed other than we changed the name of the band quite frequently. It kinda helped us get some gigs and win some talent shows. We lost them under one name and won them under another." The core foursome debuted on wax with an album of raunchy guitar and sax instrumentals, Boppin' and A Strollin' with Leonard James, recorded for Decca in 1956. Rough, ready and loose, the LP was the perfect soundtrack of noir New Orleans; at once evocative of French Quarter strip joints, high school dances and hood hangouts like the Rockery Inn. Along with discs like the Saxons' "Camel Walk' and the Sparks' "Merry Mary Lou," it stands as a testament to city's incredibly potent--but often obscured--white rock 'n' roll underground. "Leonard always took pride in combing his ducktail perfect," recalls Rebennack. "I mean, he would stand in front the mirror for an hour and then put his be-bop cap on--perfect. He had his little zoot suit pressed, more than the rest of us. We'd just wear them. They were the kind that didn't wrinkle any way. "Leonard was a great hustler. He used to walk in joints where they never had a band in their life. I remember us getting a gig in the Ninth Ward at a grocery store. Leonard conned this guy into hiring us but he wanted country music. We didn't know any country music so we'd play 'Comin' Around the Mountain' or whatever. As long as we were working, we didn't care nothing about none of the rest of it." From dives like the Club Leoma, the Blue Cat and the Jet Lounge, they moved up to the Clock on St. Charles Avenue and finally, the Brass Rail. "While we were working there Paul Gayten says, 'If y'all want to keep the gig, you're going to have to quit playing songs like the record.' And that became kind of a theme with our band. We didn't play them like the records, we played them our way." Gayten also took issue with their slightly out-of-date stage wear. "We had the same suits for so long that I don't think anybody ever considered getting new uniforms until Paul started fuckin' with us: 'Nobody wears zoot suits in Chicago; they wear continental suits.' Man, here we had all our money invested in these royal blue zoot suits. And what do we do? We got some new suits from Harry Hyman's or old man Sutton's on South Rampart--continental suits--and we wore them in Gretna when they had a gang fight at Cass's Lounge. They throwed us all in the drainage ditch out behind the joint. We ruined our new suits and we hadn't even paid for them yet! "When we worked at any of them joints on the West Bank, shit happened. At Spec's Moulin Rouge, old man Spec used to have guys walking around with pieces dressed like police but they wasn't official police, they was just guys who worked for old man Spec. Gang fights was, like, prevalent. When the Choctaw Boys and the Cherokees would have their annual beef at the Wego Inn on the Hill, it would be around Carnival. And it would be like, 'Goddamn.' You know the shit's going to happen; it's just when it's going happen. I would be trying to play close to the slot machines that were on the bandstand because I figured the slots could deal with the slugs better than me. When I saw anything that looked like it could be trouble, I'd back up toward the slots. But this is the kind of shit you had to endure back in them days because you were dealing with a bunch of crazy motherfuckers. And we were crazy, too." If there was one song that distilled the insanity into the length of a 45 RPM record, it was Rebennack's "Lights Out," cut by Jerry Byrne for Specialty in 1958. Punctuated by stop-time drum breaks, a foghorn-like saxophone riff and a searing piano solo courtesy of Art Neville, "Lights Out" has justifiably been called "the perfect rock 'n' roll song." Byrne's breakneck vocal nods to a personality so bent on bringing the house down that fights--and sometimes worse--often ensued. "Jerry was one of them suckers who worked the house," says Rebennack, "but he was a piece of work. He drove me crazy a number of times in my life. He was special with that. Hey, guys wanted to shoot me over things Jerry did. He had the ability to kick up more shit with more motherfuckers than anybody I know." In 1959, Byrne cut Mac's equally boisterous "Carry On" and then got sent to prison on a trumped-up statutory rape charge. Deadeye was already behind bars. "It was a never-ending thing," says Stanley, "just make a record and things happen, you know?" Despite the trouble, says Rebennack, "our band was really popular." They'd toured with Frankie Ford behind "Sea Cruise" and Byrne behind "Lights Out" as well as backing the traveling rock 'n' roll caravans at both the Municipal Auditorium and Pontchartrain Beach Amusement Park. And the records kept coming, from Bobby Lonero's "Little Bit" to Morgus and the Ghouls' "Morgus the Magnificent." "I don't think any of us thought that much about doing a record date," reflects Rebennack. "The gigs were the fun part. When I started working for Joe Ruffino's record company, Joe asked my daddy if I could be the president of the company and my daddy says, 'What are you crazy? This boy can't even find his fuckin' shoes!' But there were so many guys we did sessions for like Andy Blanco at Drew-blan in Morgan City and a bunch of other guys that had different little labels in the country. We played on all of Cos's Rex stuff and then we did a lot of crazy stuff all through the days we were working for Johnny Vincent over at Ace. I remember we stole 'Jimmy Crack Corn' and called it 'Ain't No Use.' We cut 'Row Your Boat' with Big Boy Myles. And I don't know how many different versions of 'Junco Partner' we cut with Roland Stone. We were some plagiarizing motherfuckers." Stone, the most prolific of Rebennack's vocalists on record, had already blazed the white R&B trail with local luminaries the Jokers when he waxed the regional smash "Just a Moment" with Rebennack in 1961. His entrance roughly coincided with the departure of Leonard James, who was replaced by Charlie Maduell after he joined the Air Force. "Charlie was just as crazy as Leonard was, but Leonard never got high. On the other hand, Charlie fit right in with the rest of us because he liked the narcotics, too. Probably the only one that wasn't a really serious drug addict was Stanley. If we were somewhere in the country, we would burglarize drug stores. When we were in the city, we forged 'scripts. We were strung out dope fiends, what the hell you going to do? There was a pharmacy on the corner of Dorgenois and Canal that used to sell to all the dope fiends. You had to go in there and ask for certain things, that's when I started getting my collection of Mad comic books together. If I got a comic book and a bag of pork rinds, that meant I wanted some opiates. Everything you ordered meant something else. We used to have so much fun that who'd have ever thought we'd wind up in jail? "My favorite gig was when Roland was singing with us and we started working at Little Club Forest on Jefferson Highway. At Club Forest, you could tell what audience hit because when all the junkies would come in, they'd just want to hear 'Junco Partner' over and over. When the whores came in they'd want to hear whatever their song was that night. So there were all these songs that fit the set. That gig was so fuckin' off the hook, so much crazy shit happened at that gig alone, I couldn't even describe it. "Between Charlie Maduell and Paul Staehle, they would always hide the stash for the band. One night they had a raid and Paul had the whole band's stash in his sock. They didn't shake us down, but the FBI came in and they emptied the joint. Somebody paid everyone's bond and before the night was over, Wes, the Jefferson Parish narc, was selling the customers back their dope in the band room! This is how out there it was. "And then Charlie went out and walked the bar and did the dance of the Seven Veils. He's out and there doing a striptease walking the bar. It's one of them gigs that's printed in my brain. And we always had what we used to call our 'band-aids' back then. Before they called them groupies, we called them band-Aids." When Stone fell for one of the young ladies a little too hard, friction arose. "I told Roland, 'Hey, listen, you can't marry this girl. She's our girl. She belongs to the band.' I thought I was doing him a favor but it backfired. He was obviously pissed." Stone showed up for his next recording session with three henchmen in tow including prizefighter Pepi Flores. "They stomped my ass. Charlie went out and got a gun and was firing in the air. I says, 'Charlie, quit shooting in the air! Shoot these motherfuckers!' He didn't even have real guns. They were replica weapons he'd loaded up! But we all went to work the next night together. Me and Charlie wound up having to wear shades and makeup to hide the black eyes. That's when I learned, hey, when it comes to matters of somebody's heart, stay the fuck out of it." The good times had to come to an end and they eventually did. Stone was busted on a narcotics charge, as was Maduell, who remains in Angola today. Within just a few years, Paul Staehle would die of a drug over dose. Rebennack's own luck ran out on Christmas Eve of 1961 when he intervened in a scuffle between Ronnie Barron and a jealous club owner who accused Barron of having an affair with his wife. "I walked in to get Ronnie at the last minute because Ronnie was like Leonard James, he'd take forever to get himself all perfect. So I go to get him and the guy's pistol-whipping him. Miss Mildred, Ronnie's mama, said if anything happened to her son on the road she was going to take a butcher knife and chop my cajones off. So I'm thinking, 'Man, if anything happens to this guy, his mama's going to fuck me up.' And hey, she was much more frightening to me than this guy was. I thought I had my hand over the handle of the gun, but it was over the barrel. I'm beating his hand on the bricks and as I'm hitting it, all of a sudden the gun went off and my finger's just about to fall off of my hand. It was hanging by a piece of skin and then I went crazy. I took Paul Staehle's ride cymbal out the case and just fucked up the guy's face. I was trying to pull his eyeballs out his head." Doctors managed to reattach the finger, but Rebennack had trouble playing guitar with the intensity he'd become known for. He concentrated on the keyboard, playing organ on virtually all of Huey Meaux's New Orleans sessions, most notably those of Barbara Lynn and Jimmy Donley. The first--and perhaps wildest--chapter of his musical career officially came to a close when he was busted and sent to federal prison in Fort Worth, Texas. Upon his release in 1965 he headed to California and his future as the Night Tripper. "You know what the kicks of it was?" Rebennack asks. "We wanted to play music so bad that we didn't ever think about it. We were trying to make a hustle just off of the gigs and that was part of the fun of it. Everything we done, we had fun doing it. That was the one thing that I always treasured about them days. It was just something that happened. When you're young and crazy and stupid, you do a lot of crazy, stupid shit. But a lot of that shit is great because you're too stupid to know better. I know that we made it a point to always have kicks, to always have good times no matter what was going to go down. We never thought, 'Oh, this is a suck-ass gig we're going on.' We went on all kinds of suck-ass gigs! But while we were doing them, we had a ball."

[texaslonestarrider]

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[1962dude420-blog]

Today we remember the passing of Allen Toussaint who Died: November 10, 2015 in Madrid, Spain

Allen Toussaint was an American musician, songwriter, arranger and record producer, who was an influential figure in New Orleans rhythm and blues from the 1950s to the end of the century, described as "one of popular music's great backroom figures".

The youngest of three children, Toussaint was born in 1938 in New Orleans and grew up in a shotgun house in the Gert Town neighborhood, where his mother, Naomi Neville (whose name he later adopted pseudonymously for some of his works), welcomed and fed all manner of musicians as they practiced and recorded with her son. His father, Clarence, worked on the railway and played trumpet. Allen Toussaint learned piano as a child and took informal music lessons from an elderly neighbor, Ernest Pinn. In his teens he played in a band, the Flamingos, with the guitarist Snooks Eaglin, before dropping out of school. A significant early influence on Toussaint was the syncopated "second-line" piano style of Professor Longhair.

After a lucky break at age 17, in which he stood in for Huey "Piano" Smith at a performance with Earl King's band in Prichard, Alabama, Toussaint was introduced to a group of local musicians led by Dave Bartholomew, who performed regularly at the Dew Drop Inn, a nightclub on Lasalle Street in Uptown New Orleans. His first recording was in 1957 as a stand-in for Fats Domino on Domino's record "I Want You to Know", on which Toussaint played piano and Domino overdubbed his vocals. His first success as a producer came in 1957 with Lee Allen's "Walking with Mr. Lee". He began performing regularly in Bartholomew's band, and he recorded with Fats Domino, Smiley Lewis, Lee Allen and other leading New Orleans performers.

After being spotted as a sideman by the A&R man Danny Kessler, he initially recorded for RCA Records as Al Tousan. In early 1958 he recorded an album of instrumentals, The Wild Sound of New Orleans, with a band including Alvin "Red" Tyler (baritone sax), either Nat Perrilliat or Lee Allen (tenor sax), either Justin Adams or Roy Montrell (guitar), Frank Fields (bass), and Charles "Hungry" Williams (drums). The recordings included Toussaint and Tyler's composition "Java", which first charted for Floyd Cramer in 1962 and became a number 4 pop hit for Al Hirt (also on RCA) in 1964. Toussaint recorded and co-wrote songs with Allen Orange in the early 1960s.

Toussaint was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1998, the Louisiana Music Hall of Fame in 2009, the Songwriter's Hall of Fame and the Blues Hall of Fame in 2011. In 2013 he was awarded the National Medal of Arts by President Barack Obama. In 2016, he posthumously won the Pinetop Perkins Piano Player title at the Blues Music Awards.

Toussaint died in the early hours of November 10, 2015, in Madrid, Spain, while on tour. Following a concert at the Teatro Lara on Calle Corredera Baja de San Pablo, he had a heart attack at his hotel and was pronounced dead on his arrival at hospital. He was 77. He had been due to perform a sold-out concert at the EFG London Jazz Festival at The Barbican on November 15 with his band and Theo Croker. He was also scheduled to play with Paul Simon at a benefit concert in New Orleans on 8 December. His final recording, American Tunes, titled after the Paul Simon song, which he sings on the album, was released by Nonesuch Records on June 10, 2016.

Toussaint's one marriage ended in divorce. He is survived by his three children, Clarence (better known as Reginald), Naomi, and Alison, and several grandchildren. His children had managed his career in his last years.

Writing in The New York Times, Ben Sisario quoted Quint Davis, producer of the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival: "In the pantheon of New Orleans music people, from Jelly Roll Morton to Mahalia Jackson to Fats—that's the place where Allen Toussaint is in". Paul Simon said, "We were friends and colleagues for almost 40 years.... We played together at the New Orleans jazz festival. We played the benefits for Katrina relief. We were about to perform together on December 8. I was just beginning to think about it; now I'll have to think about his memorial. I am so sad."

The Daily Telegraph described Toussaint as "a master of New Orleans soul and R&B, and one of America's most successful songwriters and producers", adding that "self-effacing Toussaint played a crucial role in countless classic songs popularised by other artists". He had written so many songs, over more than five decades, that he admitted to forgetting quite a few.

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