Snow dropped like feathers onto the pavement, laying a cold blanket of white on black tarmac. Joe hoped the stuff wouldn't turn into freezing rain and become still another excuse for people to stay away. But what did it matter? The bar was already losing money, and he and Ritchie had taken to arguing all the time.
"Christ," he muttered as he deposited the garbage in the cans and slammed the lids down, "I might as well close the place."
He turned to go in, but stopped, looking around at the garbage in the alley. This was not what he wanted to remember. He walked around to the front of the bar. The sign for a local beer was still lit in the window, as was the name of the bar. It was a far cry from what the place used to be, now a tumbled-down store front on Queen Street that should have been leveled years ago. They had big ideas then. He, Ritchie, and Rosalee. Beautiful ideas. When they took over the lease, they had planned every detail of the store’s changeover to a blues bar. From the baby grand piano in the corner, to the cherry-wood bar and stools to match. It was their dream come true.
And with Rosalee to sing, things were perfect. Beyond perfect. Her voice wasn't that of a classic singer, but of a woman with a torch in her heart that inspired visions of long-lost love. Happy or sad, her singing was the poetry of the place, the bar’s very soul, and it was that which their customers loved.
He supposed it was her singing and their location that made the place the talk of the town. Even famous blues singers would stop in if they were in town because the word on the bar was out. They would join Rosalee in a song the place became famous for. The room would go quiet as their music and voices filled the room. Even the resident loudmouth would shut up. Rising, falling, their voices were joined, intermingled like lovers, then parted in a kind of sad remembrance. When they finished, there wasn't a dry eye in the place. And for a while, only silence – then wild applause. When the bar continued to fill, night after night, with overflow crowds, he knew that it was Rosalee they had come to hear and see.
At two in the morning they closed the bar. As he cleaned and polished the wood until it shone, Rosalee often sang for just the two of them while Ritchie reset tables and chairs and swept and mopped the floor. Then they would both sit, watching
Rosalee sat at the piano while the men indulged in their favorite debate on how to drink the scotch they served. They would repeat their endless argument about the right way to drink good, rich, scotch, laughing at each other’s insistence that theirs was the right way to drink the fiery liquid. Rosalee sometimes joined their idle talk, but only to say that she preferred hers with just ice and that they were both too picky about booze. Then she would be lost again in a song, her eyelids half closed as the passion of the music overtook her.
Joe’s passion for her was endless, and as she sang, he would stand and go to her. As the music swelled, he would come up behind her, tangling his fingers in her long, cascading black hair. He would push it aside and kiss the pulse beating at her throat, feeling the vibrations of her song against his lips. With Ritchie's eyes on them both, he would pull down the zipper on the back of her dress and caress the beautiful curves of her back, giving her, through his touch, the passion he felt for her. She would half turn, her eyes seeking his, and he could see the want in her eyes. Smoky, dark, and steaming-hot like the Mississippi Delta blues she sang.
"But that was so long ago," he muttered as he went in and closed the door.
Ritchie was nursing a drink at the end of the bar as Joe came in. Ritchie looked up, tried to smile, but failed as his eyes swept past Joe to the dusty piano in the corner. As if he had been reading Joe’s mind, Ritchie said, "Yeah, this place sucks without Rosalee, Joe. I'm sorry I haven't been able to sing much since she died."
"I understand, Ritchie. In fact, I was thinking of closing the place down anyway."
"I'd really hate to see it go, but that may be best for us both. Too many damned memories."
"She's everywhere, isn't she? She made this place." Joe hesitated as he looked at his friend. "She made us."
After a moment, Ritchie stood. "If you think you should shut down the bar, I'll understand." With a last, longing look, he trudged up the stairs to the apartment.
As the night grew colder, Joe could see the frost forming on the window reflected like stained glass in the neon light. He found his mind returning to another big storm, many years earlier on New Year’s Eve.
He and Rosalee had spent a marvelous Christmas visiting her family in Florida, but both of them missed the snow. They spent the day of their return skating together, drinking hot chocolate to keep her calm and distract her from her performance that night. She was always a bit nervous and impatient before a gig. Her cheeks were still rosy from the cold, exercise, and lovemaking they’d experienced together.
They showered together every single day of their life as a couple. It was a well- choreographed ballet. She wet her hair, then he took the showerhead, and wet his hair while she shampooed. He put the water back for her while she rinsed, and this alternation kept on during the whole shower, mostly with eyes closed and the two of them not fully awake. Back rubs were essential.
For that evening, Rosalee had put on her violet silk dress, the one that clung to every curve. She did that on purpose, knowing it would turn him on to see her nipples stiffening and poking through the thin material.
She would be singing with Richie too, and the thoughts of him standing so closely beside her in that sexy dress, singing intimately with her, had sent Joe and Rosalee back to bed.
Rosalee and Joe couldn’t stop touching one another. In bed, they moved from the spoon position, to the back to the front without ever waking, always with one part of each other’s body touching the other. He would often wake up with her hand on his chest, gently caressing him, even as she slept.
That night the audience fell in love with Rosalee and Richie’s heart-rending performance. Her voice was even softer and smokier after Joe had satisfied her. Richie and Rosalee’s rendering of “All I Can Do Is Cry” was truly angelic. The two of them harmonized perfectly together, her intense smoky heat blending with his soft and sultry blues.
Rosalee and Joe had discussed her attraction to Richie in the past. Richie had the potential to be much more than a one-night-stand adventure. They’d all gotten to know one another over the past few years. He was a good man, and he cared for Rosalee. He and Joe were also great friends and partners.
Richie was handsome, shorter than Joe, with black hair to complement Joe’s brown. Richie was brown-eyed while Joe had sparkling blue eyes. Joe knew Rosalee had a thing for deep, dark brown eyes. It was exciting to watch Richie and Rosalie play out their mutual attraction through the music, and Joe could see the spark of chemistry between the two, the way Richie’s eyes lingered over Rosalee when Rosalee wasn’t looking. Rosalee’s constant conversations with him about Richie. Joe was sure the passion could be even stronger with the two of them in bed.
That night, the three of them sat in the bar long after the audience had left. They were a little drunk, and relaxed, chatting easily together. Richie made a few risqué jokes and caught Rosalee’s eye a few times, Joe noted.
“Rosalee, your voice on that song was pure silk, incredible,” Richie said, his voice sensuous and honey-toned. “Wasn’t she incredible, Joe?”
“Indeed. I enjoy listening to her all night long.” Joe stroked her arm with his fingers, and noticed Richie’s hand close to her hand.
Joe decided to take the plunge.
“Richie, it’s no secret that Rosalee finds you attractive,” Joe winked at Rosalee and continued. “As a matter of fact, we’ve been wondering if you’d like to join us.” Rosalee blushed. Richie sat there, blinking. “You see, Richie, it’s our fantasy to have Rosalee experience two men at the same time. And honestly, Richie, we can’t think of anyone more perfect than you.”
Looking down at the table, Rosalee said, “Richie, I want you.”
Richie looked up at them both, a bit surprised. “Wow, I don’t know what to say, but I like what I’m hearing,” his voice husky.
There was a pause as all three realized what they were about to do. The music in the background had stopped and all they could hear was the sound of their own hearts beating, and the distant scrape of a snowplow pushing away the mountains of white that buried the city.
Richie traced his fingers over Rosalee’s skin, which glowed amber in the soft candlelight. Joe watched as Richie leaned toward Rosalie, taking her face in his hands. He traced her lips with his tongue and she opened her mouth to accept his kiss.
Joe turned her to face him and kissed her deeply. Richie stood up, and walked behind the couple, trailing his fingers in her hair. Joe noticed Richie’s erection beneath his black jeans, and his own cock stirred. Rosalee looked over her shoulder at Richie’s bulge.
She turned and pressed her cheek against his crotch lightly. The three were still, a frozen tableau. Joe wanted this just as much as Rosalee and Richie. He wanted to see another man make love to her. To experience her joy in a new lover. He stood up and put his hand on Rosalee’s back.
“Time for bed. Are you coming, Richie?”
“Hell yes,” Richie said, and the three of them walked upstairs to Joe and Rosalee’s apartment. They stood inside the door. Richie’s eyes lingered over Rosalee’s beautiful silhouette in the firelight.
Both men caressed her. Joe’s fingers played along her collarbone, while Richie stood behind her and unzipped the back of her dress. Richie put his hands inside, tracing the curve of her spine. She was sandwiched between the two men. Joe kissed Rosalee’s parted lips. Rosalee’s chest heaved as her breathing quickened.
Rosalee moved away from Joe and Richie. She slowly lowered her dress, revealing her shapely ass clad in a stringy, lilac thong. Turning around, Rosalee displayed herself proudly. Her high-heels accentuated her shapely legs, emphasizing the curves of her ass.
She shivered a bit in the cold as she reached behind and unclasped her bra. Joe watched that mischievous smile as Rosalee stood there holding the cups of her bra in place, then like a stripper, slowly revealed her pale pink nipples, large and growing erect. Joe knew that Rosalee always fantasized about stripping in front of a group of men and was sure that her cunt was wet and inflamed.
Silently, Joe and Richie stepped forward and caressed Rosalee’s nipples, pressing her against the big picture window overlooking a stand of silver maples hung heavily with snow. The window was coated with thick frost, the crystals spreading out across the window.
She laughed and squirmed a bit, crying out as her ass cheeks hit the cold windowpane.
“Jesus, I’m freezing,” she said, still laughing.
“Then kneel, my sweetheart, I have the perfect exercise to warm you up,” Joe said, reaching down and unzipping his pants.
Kneeling, Rosalee reached into Joe’s pants, pulled out his cock, and gave it a sweet kiss on the tip, leaving her lipstick mark behind. She turned to Richie. Joe watched as she pulled down Richie’s zipper with her teeth. Richie’s hard dick erupted from the open zipper, stretching his boxers. Rosalee bit off the button on his boxers, freeing his cock. Joe admired the hot blush of lust covering Rosalee’s chest and face as she devoured Richie’s cock.
As Rosalee’s lips slid down Richie’s length, she matched the rhythm with her hand on Joe’s shaft. Joe ripped off his shirt, buttons flying. He lusted over the reflection of Rosalee’s head bouncing up and down in the window. Rosalee groaned as the buttons bounced off her back. Reaching over, Joe caressed her soft black hair. Rosalee turned her head and took Joe’s erect and dripping cock into her mouth.
Richie yanked off his pants and tossed them onto the cold hardwood floor. Stepping forward, Richie pressed his cock against Rosalee’s cheek She pulled back and licked both cock heads simultaneously, wrapping her hand around them to cram them into her hungry mouth. Together the two men slowly pushed themselves deeper into her mouth. Rosalee trembled as the men’s motion and the rub of her thong against her clit brought her to a sudden climax.
They quickened their pace inside her, penetrating her tight throat. Joe was turned on by his wife’s ability to take both cocks in her mouth. Rosalee reached down between her legs and dipped her fingers into her juices. She used her come to coat their cocks. Her fingers encircled their cocks, now gliding easily along their shafts. Joe knew he wouldn’t last long at this pace, and by the look of Richie’s tight round balls, neither would he.
Breaking the momentum, Joe pulled out his cock, moments before orgasm. He was saving his come for Rosalee’s ass. Rosalee pulled back, letting go of Richie’s cock, but too late. He couldn’t hold back any longer and his come erupted over her face and chest.
Joe noted with pleasure that Richie was still hard and said, “Rosalee, I want to watch you ride Richie’s cock.”
Joe lifted her up off her knees and slipped off her wet thong, smelling the scent of her arousal. Joe watched Rosalee’s perky ass wiggle as she sauntered in her high heels over to the bed.
Richie stroked himself as he walked toward Rosalee, then got on the bed. Rosalee placed her cunt over Richie’s stiff cock and slowly lowered herself. From his vantage point by the window, Joe could see Richie part Rosalee’s lower lips with his erection. As Rosalee slid up and down on Richie, Joe admired her wet, glistening juices coating Richie’s shaft. Walking to the side of the bed, Joe watched Richie’s come drip off Rosalee’s face as she rode Richie hard. Joe wished he was filming his wife’s fantasy come true.
Crouching behind her, Joe inserted a finger into Rosalee’s ass, feeling Richie’s cock inside her. Joe pressed Richie’s cock against her G-spot. The two lovers moaned. Joe could feel Rosalee relaxing onto Richie’s, taking even more of him inside her.
Removing his finger from her tight, needy asshole, Joe took off his pants. His cock pulsed and grew erect as he watched the two of them grind. He slowly stroked himself, readying his cock for Rosalee’s ass. He knew from experience that Richie would not last too long inside Rosalee’s hot, demanding cunt, even after coming all over her.
He walked over to the stereo and turned on the music. The sounds of Sophie B. Hawkins “Listen” started up.
“I'm gonna turn you on
You're gonna set me free
I'm gonna make you come…”
Rosalee’s body glistened with a sheen of sweat as she rode Richie’s cock. Joe climbed onto the bed, straddling their legs and pressed himself against Rosalee’s tight rear hole. Her ass muscles clenched and relaxed as he worked himself into her, feeling her greedy hole draw him deeply in. Each clench drew a moan out of Richie as her cunt bit down on his cock.
Rosalee screamed out as the two men took her, their cocks rubbing point-counterpoint inside her. Joe felt Rosalee’s orgasm grab onto his cock and Richie cried out, “I’m about to come!” The men held still, letting Rosalee set the pace. Her hips undulated against their bodies, her cries echoing the rhythm of the fuck.
Their frequency surged to match the waves of orgasm cresting over her. Her cunt and asshole pulsed against their cocks, Joe pumped himself hard into her ass, and he felt Richie’s balls against his as they tightened with his approaching release.
Through the mirrored headboard, Joe could see outside. Sugar snow filled the sidewalk cracks, and the wind whirled the glistening particles onto hillsides, and into crevices of the doors and windows of parked cars. Inside, the musky aroma of sex and sweat filled the room, and Rosalee’s eyes widened in ecstasy.
She groaned with each thrust as the two men drove themselves relentlessly into her. Joe knew he was close as Richie screamed out, and Joe felt Richie’s cock twitch inside Rosalee. That was it for him, his cock let go and flooded Rosalee’s asshole while Richie’s cock engulfed her cunt with his cum.
The three lovers collapsed, Rosalee nestled snugly between the two men. Joe knew this was Rosalee’s favorite part, surrounded on both sides by her two lovers.
Richie eventually became indispensable to both Joe and Rosalee. After a year of his visiting them and them taking trips out to see him, Richie moved in with them. He complemented them beautifully. He and Rosalee shared a joy and understanding about music. Joe loved music too, but it wasn’t the same. Richie had always been a bit of a loner. He’d had a few relationships, but nothing really long-term. Somehow, this was the right thing for all three of them.
Joe watched the snow fall harder and leaned his head against the window. God how he missed that beautiful woman. He remembered Richie’s sad and poignant rendition of Bobby Bland’s “Farther Up The Road” at her funeral. They had both loved her so much.
~~~~~
X shook the snow from his bushy black hair and beard. He was completely underdressed for a snowstorm, and he knew it, but winter was definitely not his season.
“Serena, you can’t spend every night watching over them, you’ve got to visit other widowers. X stepped over to the parked car where Serena was standing.
“I know, I know, X,” she said in that voice that got her the soloist’s part in their heavenly choir. “But they are still grieving so hard. They haven’t done a thing to feel better. I’m so worried.”
X glanced down at the angel. Her hair was tucked haphazardly up in a thick woolen toque. She’d wrapped a crimson scarf around her neck and her coat was a red cashmere and wool blend with a fox trim collar.
“Yeah you really are blending in here. No one would suspect you’re an angel, just a fashion model.”
“Well, you wouldn’t let me keep my wings, X. I had to find some way of sparkling, didn’t I? And winter is my favorite season. I wanted to come down here. I needed to see them, and I needed winter again.”
She rolled a bit of snow into a ball and threw it right through X.
He winced. “Hmmph well I prefer our assignments to be in Florida, but this is your request. I’ll let you do things your way. If you need me, you know how to get me down here.”
“Sure, I’ll click my red heels and say your name three times.”
“Very funny.”
He disappeared as the snow fell harder, sparkling silver and white flecks all around his shimmering body. Anyone would have just thought the snowstorm was particularly beautiful that night.
Joe shivered as he looked up into the snow. Rosalee had loved winter. She used to hold out her hand when the snow fell, and count the six points on each crystal, finding perfectly formed snowflakes and holding them up for Joe to see. She had died the year before, still eagerly anticipating the next snow storm, skating at City Hall at New Year’s, but the cancer took her from them. Now he and Richie hated winter.
“Ah, fuck it,” he said to himself out loud. “I’m closing the bar.”
Suddenly he heard singing. It was her voice. Rosalee. His Rosalee. He clumsily ran through the wet, slick snow, trying not to fall down. Just over the hill, he saw her long black hair coming out from under some garish toque. The song was Billie Holiday’s “For Heaven’s Sake.” It had been one of her favorites.
He rushed up to her and grabbed her shoulder, whirling her around. “Dear God, Rosalee, it’s a miracle,” he said. The woman looked at him and smiled, sadly. So very sadly.
It wasn’t her.
“I…uh…I’m sorry. I thought you were my wife. You sound so much like her.” He turned to trudge his way back down the hill.
“Wait, sir. I’m actually stranded. My car is stuck. Is there a phone somewhere? You’re the first human I’ve seen since my car died.”
Joe felt like hell, but this woman seemed cold and in need of help. It was painful to look at a woman who looked and sounded so much like his dead wife, but he couldn’t very well leave her out here.
“Yeah, you can come back to my bar. I’ll buy you a drink.”
Serena entered the bar with him, and removed her coat, revealing a shimmering, thin, pink cocktail dress.
“You sure dress up nice for a winter storm. Special occasion?”
“Well, it was supposed to be an audition, but I’m too late now, that’s for sure.”
“Pink was Rosalee’s color,” he thought. His hands trembled as he put ice in two tumblers.
“I bet you’re a scotch fan,” he said.
“That would be marvelous,” she responded in her smoky, low voice.
“Mind if I try this out?” She motioned toward the piano.
“Well, I doubt it’s even tuned, but you’re welcome to give it a try. My wife used to say an unplayed piano was a sin.”
“The last thing I’d ever do is sin,” she winked playfully and trailed her fingers over the keys. She started to sing “Hold Me While I cry.” Rosalee had sang that one beautifully too, in fact it was one Joe’s favorites. They both loved Irma Thomas.
She was beautiful as she crooned the soulful words to the song. He felt his heart melting open. It was so good to hear that music again. The wind outside howled. He thought about Rosalee again.
Joe heard the sound of the apartment door opening, and saw Richie at top of the stairs. Richie began to sing along.
The two men walked over to Serena and waited till the song was finished.
“You know we could use a new singer, how would you like to work here?” Joe asked
“I’d love that,” she said. “From the looks of that snow, it looks like we aren’t getting out of here for a while, shall I keep singing?”
“Please do. I never want to hear this place silent again.”
Originally published June, 2008