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From: "Katzmarek" <katzmarek@excite.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Curse (Chapter 12) By Katzmarek (MF, FF, MFF, Slow)
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Date: Tue, 02 Oct 2007 14:10:02 -0400
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 Chapter 12



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<1st attachment, "The Curse12.txt" begin>

THE CURSE

   By KATZMAREK(C)

   Chapter Twelve.

   ---------------------------------------------------

   When Anna arrived home, Michelle was pacing up and down with Emily in
her arms.  The baby was whimpering and Michelle was trying to jiggle her up
and down.  It was obvious she was distraught and she burst into tears as
Anna entered the room.

   "Oh, God, Anna!" she cried, "Mick's gone - I've fucked up, really fucked
up.  I don't know what to do."

   "Mich, Mich!  Give me Emmie, here?" She took the baby.  "Sit down, you
want a shot?"

   "I shouldn't, I'm breastfeeding."

   "No matter - what happened - you and Mick had a fight?" Anna sat beside
her on the sofa, draping her free arm over her friend's shoulders.

   "I've fucked everything, The Curse is gone!  Oh, Anna, I've broken up
the band!"

   "You must tell me what this is all about," Anna insisted, "then we can
decide what to do."

   "Mick wanted us to get married.  He said I was freezing him out.  He
doesn't understand that I'm a mother, now, and..."

   "So?  He wants a fuck?  Give him a fuck and he'll be like a lamb.  All
men are the same."

   "It's not that simple."

   "No?  Tell me, how often do you sleep with him?"

   "A few times.  Maybe not as often..."

   "I tell you.  You've slept with him two times in the past month.  Mick
is a good man.  Not many men would put up with that.  You must go now and
make up.  Give him a good fuck and everything will be alright."

   "We need to talk things through.  You think I should marry him?  Y'know
he wants to split you and me up?"

   "Ok, fine, fuck him and then talk.  It will be much easier that way,
you'll see.  As for marry?  Hmm, you decide, it's only a party, it won't
change a thing.  So, he wants to split us up?  I thought he liked me?"

   "He does.  He's jealous!"

   "Ah, yes, jealousy!  You must make him less jealous."

   "By fucking him?"

   "Of course!" she smiled.  "You don't like doing this with Mick?  I
thought..."

   "No, it's fine.  I've never had any problem, er..."

   "See?  Problem solved!" she clapped her hands.  "Now give him a call and
go for a romantic dinner somewhere."

   "Ok, ok," Michelle said, "what do I say?"

   "'Sorry'?  But you must mean it!"

   "I will!" she smiled happily.  "Thanks, Anna!"

   "See, you are a worrier," she laughed.  "You must make Mick happy.  This
is important for us."

   "You make me sound like a whore," Michelle replied.  "I really love
Mick, y'know?  He just gets too possessive."

   "Ah!  He wants to keep you in a cage?  We birds were meant to fly, Mich,
not be put behind bars and left to die."

   "Nah, that's not Mick, Anna."

   "He wants to own you, you said?"

   "Well, not exactly.  I think he just wants the traditional thing with
mum, dad and the kid."

   "So?  He has to accept you as you are - mum, dad, mum's girlfriend, the
baby and dad's grown up daughter he never knew.  This is traditional?" she
laughed.

   "Don't forget the family band?" Michelle chuckled.

   "Oh, yes, we musn't forget The Curse," Anna agreed.

   When Mick arrived at Freddie's he found Terry in the kitchen.  She was
polishing a stove that looked pretty clean to him.  Maybe women can find
dirt males just miss?

   "Freddie here?" he asked.

   "Nope!" Terry replied in a voice that would freeze lava.

   "Ah, where is he?"

   "Gone!"

   "Um, where?"

   "Don't know - don't care either!" Terry's voice came in rapid bursts,
like a machine gun firing.  Mick, of course, knew he'd come at the
aftermath of a fight.

   "I've left Michelle," Mick told her.

   "Give her a couple of hours then bring her flowers," Terry said. 
"Babies change the whole ball game - learn to deal with it."

   "Um, it's not about the baby, it's..."

   "Mick?" she turned.  "I'm sorry, honey, but I just can't cope with
someone else's problems right now.  It'll blow over, you'll see."

   "I take it you and Freddie had..."

   "A fight?  No fight, Mick, he's just having a love affair with the
bottle."

   "Ah, well, you know Freddie?  He always liked a beer now and again."

   "Mick, you don't know the half of it.  I know he likes a beer with his
buddies.  I don't have a problem with that.  But every night drunk?  I
mean, really drunk?  That's not Freddie.  I've told him to come back when
he's dried out.  I'm not standing by and watch that man destroy himself in
front of my eyes.  I'm not going to do that - oh, Mick..." Terry turned and
burst into tears.  She ran the short distance to him and clung like a
lifebuoy.  "I don't know where he's gone.  Why do I fetch up with drunken
hopeless men?"

   "You like a challenge?" Mick suggested.

   "Thing is, when he was teaching we were fine.  Married to him was just
wonderful, I - the best time we had in our lives.  Then The Curse came
along and everything changed.  It's the lifestyle, see..."

   "Ok, ok.  You want me to check he's alright?"

   "I'm supposed to allow him to hit rock bottom.  It says so in the
booklet I got from Alcoholics Anonymous."

   "But you still want me to find him?"

   "Please?"

   Mick immediately rang Michelle.  Her response was quick, as if she was
waiting by the phone.  She tried to speak, but Mick shooshed her
immediately.  He explained about Freddie and she promised to come and stay
with Terry.

   "Mick, I..." she started to say.

   "Thing is with fights," he said, "neither side smothers themselves in
glory.  That's just propaganda for the masses."

   "Huh?"

   "You haven't smashed up my guitars, have you?"

   "Of course not!"

   "Then there's hope," he told her.

   "You're really fucking weird, sometimes, Mick Johnson."

   Mick had been worried about Freddie for a while.  It wasn't just his
drinking, but his weight and his ability to handle the management of a band
growing as big as The Curse.  He knew Terry had been covering for him and
he, himself, had to organise a few things that'd slipped Freddie's mind. 
The task was overwhelming him and Mick thought they needed professional
managers to handle the band's affairs.

   But, Mick and Freddie went back a long way.  He'd been an integral part
of The Curse from the outset and been invaluable in coaching Karen.  It was
tough having to fire someone so close as him and Mick had put the matter
off.

   His friend was unravelling under the strain, though, and it had to be
done before he cracked completely.

   Freddie had always been something of a binge drinker, but he'd always
managed to show.  There'd been some concerns over the years, but Freddie
had always got things under control.  Now, it seemed, the booze was finally
winning and there needed to be an intervention.

   Mick trolled through Freddie's usual haunts.  They were generally
worker's bars where he was barely noticed and he could hole up in a corner
somewhere and get drunk.  He shifted locals regularly - some say so Terry
couldn't find him easily.

   Freddie and Terry had always had this love/hate thing going and he'd
often been a 'guest' at Mick's when they'd had a fight.  A couple of days
usually sufficed before everything was okay again.

   Mick visited six bars and there was still no sign of him.  He was
getting really worried, now.  There were literally 100s of bars in this
town and it could take him all night to visit them all.

   By chance he passed a small park and saw a figure slumped on one of the
seats.  Something made him turn around to check and, sure enough, it was
Freddie.

   His friend was paralytic.  He'd pissed his pants and there was vomit on
his clothes.  Probably he'd been tossed out of the bar for being too
inebriated, but what Mick was going to do with him he didn't know.  He was
too heavy to move and too bombed to move himself.  Did Mick really want
this specimen on the upholstery of his precious Camarro was something else
he had to consider, but he couldn't just leave him there.

   Fortunately for Mick, the problem was eased by the arrival of a police
patrol car.  After he explained the problem, the cops hauled Freddie to his
feet and half carried the big man to Mick's car.  He spread a sheet of
plastic he had from the boot over the seat and the cops eased Freddie into
it.  Mick then called Michelle and asked her to tell Terry he was taking
him back home with him.

   Anna came out to assist him, dousing Freddie with a bucket of water,
before helping Mick bring him in the house.  They stripped him of his
clothes before laying him in a spare room to sleep it off.

   "He has to go," declared Anna, clicking her tongue.  For once, Mick had
to agree.

   The irony wasn't lost on Anna.  Someone who'd been so insistant at
distancing the band from drugs had fallen foul of the most insidious drug
of all, alcohol.

   Emily was safely asleep in her crib.  Anna was fidgety and found totally
unimportant tasks to do.  Mick sat down in the lounge and turned on the TV.
He realised he'd never been alone with Anna before.  She was plainly
uncomfortable and refused to sit down.  Instead she went into the kitchen
and Mick heard pots and pans being banged around as if she was busy doing
something.  Finally, he announced he was going to bed and she could relax.

   "Is Michelle coming back?" she asked as he got up.  Her voice was tinged
with anxiety.

   "She's staying at Terry's tonight," Mick told her.

   "Ah!," she nodded.  She hovered as if having more to ask and Mick
paused. "Mick?" she said, finally.  "You're, ah, not leaving us, are you?"

   "Us?" he grinned, wryly.  "As in you, Michelle and Emily?"

   "You don't want me here?" she asked, almost as a statement of fact.

   "You can stay," he shrugged, as if it made little difference, "if you
want to, of course."

   "You jealous?"

   "Frankly," he sucked in his breath, "frankly, I don't know what I am. 
They don't have a manual for this sort of set up."

   "Michelle said you want a traditional wife.  She said..."

   "Did she?" Mick raised his eyebrows.  "That's her interpretation.  I
never said anything of the kind.  I guess it would be less complicated, I
suppose."

   "Yes," she nodded, "but, you understand?"

   "Not completely."

   "Michelle and I have this special..."

   "Yes, yes," he said, irritated, He really didn't want the speech again
about their 'special love.' He'd heard it enough times from Michelle. 
"Look, I don't really care how close you are or whether you play around
together.  It don't really bother me that you have first claim.  But, what
am I to Michelle?  She says she loves me, but so what?  Words are cheap. 
Are we a couple?  I'd like her to prove that we still are."

   "Ah, yes!  You two must go for a romantic dinner somewhere."

   "Then what, Anna?  Is that the end of it?  You sure this isn't going to
come up again?"

   "Hmm," she considered, "we must organise this properly."

   "Huh?  Like on a roster?"

   "Sure, why not?  I have things I can do when she is with you."

   "Oh," he chuckled, "that's, um, very generous of you."

   "See?"

   "No, Anna.  You're offering to lend her to me now and again, like she's
some kind of car.  'Hey, I'll let you drive her around Thursdays?' That's
not what I had in mind."

   "Oh?  Tell me, what do you have in mind?"

   "Look, I really don't know," he threw a hand up to the heavens.  "If
this is to work, we need to feel our way along and see what happens."

   "I've told her she must have sex with you more often.  Maybe that will
help?"

   "You did?" he laughed, "and she does what you tell her to do?"

   "Not 'tell.' I advise her to do this," she reconsidered.

   "Oh, I see?  She takes your advice in all things?"

   "You think this is funny?  We're trying to help you solve your problems
and you make fun of us?"

   "Anna?  Y'know what I find irritating?  Always you say 'we' and 'us'
when you really mean 'Anna'."

   "And always you say 'love' when you really mean 'fuck'," she retorted.

   "No, Anna, you're not pinning that label on me.  If that was all, I'd
have been long gone.  As Michelle so eloquently said, there are plenty of
young teenage whores..."

   "That's disgusting!  You are too old..."

   "Too old for what?  We are big rock stars.  Young girls throw me their
bras."

   "They should have more respect for themselves."

   "Well, maybe," he shrugged, "but the point is, they were there and I
never accepted their most generous offers.  Hehe," he chuckled, "that
wasn't always so."

   "Is ego thing, no more!"

   "True," he agreed.

   "So girls did lots of things for you?" she asked, dropping her voice,
"before?  When you were a big rock star?"

   "They were there, I was young and horny, of course!" he laughed.  "Maybe
it wouldn't do to go into that too much," he told her.  "Freddie, me, even
The Dodger?  We all had a wild time."

   "Ah, yes!" she grinned, "so maybe this time is not so wild?"

   "I'm older.  I have more of a perspective.  I understand this won't
last. Casual sex is fine when you're young and don't give a shit.  At 53,
it's a bit undignified, I think.  I guess I want the deepening, the
intimacy of understanding someone, spirit, mind and body."

   "Mick, ah, that's really nice.  You must understand me and Michelle."

   "I understand 'obsession' and 'dependency.' I'm sorry, Anna, but that's
what I see between you two."

   "I think that's what you have when you seek this 'deepening'," she said.
"Dependency?  Yes, that is what we have."

   "Let me tell you," Mick said, sitting down.  Anna sat opposite, all
ears. "I lived with Karen's mother for, what, oh, a few years.  Like you
and Michelle, we were joined at the hip and it was amazing.  We rode each
other's moods like a roller coaster.  When she was happy, I was happy, sad,
then I was sad.  After a while we realised in our own ways we'd lost sense
of self.  The spirit tries to reassert itself, Anna, because it wasn't
meant to be caged so.  We fought, and how!" he chuckled, "and, sure, there
was violence, hitting...  mostly her.  Sabra could throw a good punch,
that's for sure.  Then we'd feel guilty because that wasn't supposed to be
what a relationship was all about.  We'd make up for days, afterwards,
screwing in every place imaginable.  We used sex to pretend that everything
was alright, but it wasn't.  It was toxic and it had to end."

   "You think Michelle and me have this 'toxic' relationship?"

   "Only you'd know that," Mick told her, "I'd just think that at some
time, one or both of you will want your spirit back."

   "Ah, you think?  Maybe our spirits are one?"

   "And maybe you only think they are?"

   "I still think this is only about fucking."

   "And I think you're mistaken.  Sex is just an act.  It's the feelings
behind that act that make it special, otherwise you might as well use your
fist."

   "Fist?" she reddened.  "Ah, yes, I see."

   "Sorry," Mick said, "I guess that must seem really gross to you."

   "Gross?  Why?  I know what men do.  It is a natural thing to
masturbate."

   "Sure, but seeing how you are..."

   "How am I?  You think I go with girls?  You don't think I'm normal?"

   "Hey?  I never said anything about 'normal'.  I'm not getting into that
debate.  You are what you are, and that's fine as far as I'm concerned."

   "I like men.  Who said I don't like men?  One day I'll find the right
guy..."

   "You will?  Isn't that some kind of fraud?"

   "Fraud?  Not at all.  I'm an honest person.  I will sleep with him if
that's what he wants?  I will have babies."

   "Only if he wants?" Mick laughed.  "You saying there's some doubt?"

   "Perhaps," she shrugged, "he may want to use his fist?"

   "Oh, haha, Anna.  A babe like you and he'd prefer his fist?  You must
know some weird guys."

   "'A Babe?' You think of me this way?"

   "Hey, I draw breath, still.  Why wouldn't I?"

   "I thought you only wanted Michelle?"

   "Ah!  See?  I've made the choice to be faithful to her.  That doesn't
mean I've stopped noticing other women.  It just means I don't sleep with
them."

   "Of course," she nodded, "Michelle said you were 'traditional'."

   "Ethical, I think.  If that makes me 'traditional' so be it."

   "Ethics?  So if Michelle said she doesn't mind you sleeping with others,
that would be alright?"

   "Whew?" Mick smiled.  "I'd need to examine my own values, there, I
think."

   "Ah!  So you couldn't be spontaneous?"

   "Within reason, I suppose.  But there are consequences in everything one
does.  The bad ones outdo the good?  Uh uh, I'll pass."

   "That is so clinical," Anna replied, "like you can't allow your feelings
to just - fly?"

   "Like I said, 'consequences.' To break something up that's important to
me is not worth this 'flying.'"

   "But what if there's no risk of breaking up?  Then would you..."

   "Too hypothetical, Anna.  Um, I don't know where this conversation is
heading.  Are you suggesting something?  If so, come on out with it?"

   "We are just talking, Mick?  You say we don't do enough."

   "With Michelle, maybe, Anna, not with the subset that's Annamichelle."

   "'Annamichelle?' That's good!"

   "You think?"

   "You say we freeze you out?" she continued.  "That's unfair on you.  We
must change the situation and you'll be happier."

   "Um, hold on, Anna.  I was talking about Michelle, not the subset."

   "But we are three, aren't we?  Not including Emily, of course."

   "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

   "What?"

   "That we all bunk in together?"

   "We've done it before," she said, "we've slept all in the one bed?"

   "Oh, sure, but that didn't include sex, I recall.  Unless I was asleep
and missed it all?"

   "Haha, no, I would've remembered!"

   "So, what is this?  A 'menage et trois' or do we play separately?"

   "We would need to talk with Michelle about that."

   "I thought you were saving yourself for Mr.  Right?"

   "Maybe Mr.  Right is before my eyes and I didn't notice?"

   "Holy shit, Anna!  You fucking serious?  If so, wake me up, for Christ
sake, cos I'm having a really weird dream."

   "We talk with Michelle, ok?  Meanwhile, you must think of your
'consequences' and your 'values'."

   "Not forgetting my stamina?" Mick said, shaking his head.

   "Oh yes," she giggled, "that as well!"

   Mick went to bed soon after - his notion that Anna was a genuine nutcase
reinforced.  Which way her door swung, he'd no idea.

   He just couldn't take her bizarre suggestion seriously.  Even if she
could talk Michelle into her proposed arrangement the possible
ramifications for him and the band seemed fraught with difficulties.

   Anna's game was her own, of that he was sure.  He couldn't believe this
'Mr.  Right' bullshit.  But, at the same time, part of him was intrigued by
the idea of a threesome with Anna and Michelle.  What red blooded male
wouldn't, he mused?  Yes, he could quite easily fall victim to this Russian
beauty, if he thought she was on the level.

   But she was supposed to be a virgin, for Christ's sake, although he'd no
proof of that.  Everyone had her figured for a lesbian who wound men around
her little finger.  You simply couldn't believe 90% of what she says and
should treat the remaining 10% with suspician.

   In short, she'd be completely at home among the whacked out, psycho,
young stars in California, Mick thought.  Anna was outgrowing the band, of
that he was sure.  The forthcoming tour of the States was going to be real
interesting!

   He thought he'd better check on Freddie before going to sleep - just in
case he hadn't rolled on his back.  He got up and padded out past Anna's
room.  The light was on and the door open.

   Anna was feeding Emily from a bottle - some of the milk Michelle had
expressed for her.  She wore a pale blue silk top and panties.  It was
obvious she wasn't wearing a bra.  Anna didn't seem to notice him as he
passed but the sight left a deep impression on him.

   Freddie was still snoring peacefully and the room stank of stale booze.
He figured the girls would insist it be aired out tomorrow.  He looked an
absolute mess and Mick was profoundly depressed by the sight.

   How could such a thing happen to his best friend, he asked himself? 
Freddie had been through many of the hoops he'd had over the years and knew
the score, the pitfalls.  Perhaps The Curse was really becoming what the
name suggested and it will overcome them all in the end?

   He tried to get some sleep.  Once again the space beside him in the bed
was empty but he was growing used to that.  He'd no sooner turned off the
light, however, when the door opened.

   At the back of his mind he knew this was likely to happen and he'd
played out a few scenarios in his head.  What was she going to do?  How
should he react?  Should he send her away angrily, or lay some strict
ground rules?  In his mind he knew she was toxic because she played with
people's minds.  Did he have the strength to resist or had she got him
mapped?  All this and, at the same time, the game was compelling.

   "Mick?" she called softly.  Mick saw she was carrying Emily's crib.  She
set the baby down next to the bed and called him again.

   "Yeah?" he answered in a sleepy voice as if she'd just woken him.

   "My bed is cold and I'm lonely," she told him.  Her bed was no colder
than his, he figured, and, being Summer, not cold at all.  "Are you wearing
pants?"

   "Yeah, why?" Mick thought 'surly' was a good tone of voice for the
occasion.

   "May I?" she asked, turning down the covers.  "But, we only can cuddle,"
she added.

   Mick had no answer to that.  She rolled in next to him, grabbed for his
arm, and pulled it over onto her tummy.  Mick could feel the silky warm
fabric of her top and the mearest hint of bare midriff.

   But it was the cutest arse in the World - the same arse he'd watched
jiggling around the stage across half the World - the same arse he'd be
taking to California, that caused the biggest problem.  Mick's boxer shorts
were satin and, next to that arse, he may as well not be wearing any.  As
soon as that exquisite panty covered bottom brushed the front of Mick's
boxers nature took its course.

   Anna's body shook with laughter, which didn't help any.  He tried to
roll the other way, but she clung to his arm.  Eventually she rolled onto
her back and looked at him, face dancing with humour.  Mick's face was
inches from her's - she hadn't released his hand - and her eyes gleamed up
at him.

   Her mouth seemed to form the word, 'so?'.  He responded in the only way
nature allowed him.  His mouth crossed the short distance to her's and she
opened to receive him.

   -------------------------------------------
   KATZMAREK(c)

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