'BLOOD OF ROCK'N ROLL'� - PART I
PEARLCOPPER�
Mark Spiewak - PEARLCOPPER
CHAPTER I
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They all walked out from excited concert stadium. Fans and concert goers, screaming and
cheering in amaze.
That day, Kevin met Carol...Undisputable shock in history of Rock'n Roll families.
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With Carol, Rockstar found himself in total creative bliss. For creativity, Rock'n Roll and music,
and, finally, sex apeal, they were like two drops of water. Pure water.
Carol was outgoing. Carol, beside her striking wisdom and natural beauty of her body; her face,
hair and eyes, was a part-time junky. On her good days, she'd take gulps of beans or LSD. Then
snort something; maybe couple of times a day. Sometimes she had money for it from her gigs
in LA pubs, or from Kevin. Or sometimes she would just give a head to drug pusher...for a little bag of
it. Next day of their tour was day off. Carol and Kevin spent morning time walking around Old Square
of that magnificient city.
They were shooting pictures of everything that was cool or rare. Like of a bicycle remained leaning
against a street light and covered with snow. They found a lifesize sculpture of a swing.
And it was called The Swing. It was a sculpture of a young woman, sitting on swing bench. Her hair
blown a bit. Her wedding dress loose, exposing her firm breasts and delicate neck. It all was done
in one bronze cast.
Kevin walked toward swing lady sculpture, climbed on the bench in front of her face, and
unzipped his jeans. His penis, balls and part of his belly exposed, while Carol was shooting nice
erotic pictures. Kevin used different positions. He even sat next to her, his penis erected and flanel
shirt unbottoned. Then they would take turns. Carol lifted her long wool skirt to pretended mini, and
ran her fingers underneath in front of the sculpture. Then she sat on her lap, sticking herreal, massive
breast in bronze girl's mouth.
People started rolling in into the small park of Old Square Park. They finished their erotic ritual and
went back to hotel room to fuck zipplessly.
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They woke up before sundown sameday, looking at the sun coming down through the window.
Later, Kevin was playing few rifs on his electric guitar in bed. His big fender amp set on the chair
in font of a bed, between window and his feet. Carol made sketches from photos they took in
morning at Old Square. They came out really good; without any contrast and blur problems.
Kevin asked tour manager to scan the selected pictures to include them in his Intellectual
Exhibitionist website.
When Carol finished drawing, she mixed couple of drinks and laid down naked next to Kevin.
After several sex trips, they watched ABC news, then some foreign made movie.
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Twelve years old boy walked slowly down the elevator stairs into subway station to take his
first subway ride in Paris. He had a green backpack on his right shoulder, and carried pocket
size notebook in his right hand. To Kevin that notebook meant to him as much as escape from
Communists terrorized homeland to Western Europe.
In the notebook, the boy made notes and drawings, wrote lyrics and songs.
Like the drawings of classic buildings, cathedrals and castles he've seen on the road.
He also made drawings of people, old, but...mostly young adventures...of his age. He even made
a drawing of a young pissing girl. He also had a drawing he made a year ago in Salzburg, Austria.
It was a small poker card size drawing of old, tired woman. She was sitting on a bench,
dressed in black, and her face could not be seen.� The boy started that picture when he was in
Vienna, waiting for a train in corner of a train station.
He was sitting on the bench, looking at old woman on the other side of rail section.
She was old, chubby lady. And tired. The only thing was that the boy couldn't see her face.
She was not his mother nor anyone he knew. The boy could see every detail of her posture
and her clothes, even buttons. Except her hace.
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