Gnarly's Angels Ch. 02: Rock Hard

Browsing a bit first to define atmosphere he sifts through a bin of old records. 80's hair bands like Motley Crue, Dokken, Bon Jovi, etc. Toward the back of the store he spotted a girl he guessed to be in her early 20's wearing black leather rocker pants and ankle high boots with silver straps along the sides. Her shirt resembled a sheer white ensemble with a cut off black tank beneath it. A young male customer was looking up as she stood on a ladder stretching to tack up some posters of Judas Priest. Narrowing his eyes he wondered what her youthful stalker was studying. He had his suspicions. A casual stroll confirmed his intuition. As the lad took off the second Gavin got close he peered up at her to see a braless set of enormous tits bobbing as she arched to pin the posters to the wall. Pins held within her lips plucking them as needed. Glancing down at him the blond with blue streaks in her hair winks while removing the pins to speak.

"Hey Handsome. Looking for anything in particular?"

"Checking things out."

"So was that punk before you scared him off." She jiggles her tits offering him a lively undercarriage show. He merely smirks before sighing.

"Rock on."

"Always. You're a big boy."

"Just hit town. Looking to hook up with some potential band mates. In the meantime a job would be helpful."

"Ohhh! You saw our help wanted ad."

"Yup. You the manager?"

She points to the counter, "That would be Grampa."

"I'm surprised the job hasn't been filled."

"Grampa is really picky. He knows a thief when he sees one. A lot of job hunters don't know their music either. I bet you do." She grins sheepishly.

"Know a fair share. My name's Gavin but you can call me Gnarly."

"Cool nickname. I'm Floyd."

"Seriously?" He winces up at her shocked by the male name.

"Just kidding! Grampa's the Floyd, I'm the Pinky. My real name is Priscilla. Now you know why I go by Pinky."

"Pleasure's mine Pinky."

"Not yet. Let's see if you can tackle Grampa." She shifts on her ladder and poses a finger, "You ready?"

"For what?"

Feigning a loss of balance she falls backwards squealing after tossing her tacks. Gavin swiftly lunges forward and catches her in his arms. Landing with a beguiling smile she places an arm around his muscular shoulders while tugging her cut off tank back over her exposed right breast. She made sure he at least caught a glimpse of it. Sadly the boy who had been staring at her captured a nice nipple slip as well. She played it off as if it didn't matter.

"My hero."

"Guitar hero at that." He chuckles. Seeing her fall Floyd Ware bolts from the counter just as Gavin stands her up. She pats his chest and flutters his tie.

"Thanks for being there." She smiles as Floyd sizes up her savior.

"You okay Pinky?"

"Fine Grampa. Captain America here just saved me a trip to the ER."

"Much appreciated friend." Floyd nods.

"Glad I was right behind her." Gavin nods with a quirky expression, "Probably not the best time but I noticed your job posting in the paper. Still looking?"

"Maybe." Floyd stares at his expression. Luckily Gavin had a true poker face.

"Got any qualifications other than Knight in shining armor?" She questions joining Floyd by placing her arm around his.

"I know my music. Lead guitar in a few bands. Some vocals but I'll be honest All Three Dogs barked most of the Night at my voice." He chuckles.

"Three Dog Night fan?" Floyd grills him.

"One is the loneliest number." He smirks.

"That's one. Name more songs."

Gavin sighs recalling his Grandfather's records, "Joy to the World. Mama told me not to come."

"I'm glad you didn't listen to her." Pinky giggles.

"That's a song Pinky." Floyd rolls his eyes.

She pats his shoulder, "I know old man. I'm just being silly."

Floyd continued his interrogation. "Name original members of the band."

"Gonna be honest and say I don't know that one." Gavin fidgets.

"Hutton and Allsup." Pinky belts out, "All I know too Gramps."

"Long haired hippy type." Gramps scowls at Gavin, "So you play guitar. Any good?"

"I can bring you a demo of my old bands. 80's rock and more current metal."

"Metallica?" She wonders.

"Yes indeed. Megadeth. New bands like Godsmack, Disturbed. Rob Zombie. I can cover about 500 songs. 60 or so are classic rock."

"Impressive." Pinky puckers her lower lip, "I'm in an all girl rock band."

Gavin looks at her with a bit of doubt until she drags her cell from her back pocket to show him pictures. She looked the part certainly. Floyd grins from ear to ear with pride. Sensing Gavin's thoughts on her Floyd switches to a low grumble.

"The boy doesn't believe a girl can rock."

"Whoa! That's not true Floyd." Gavin grows defensive, "She just sprung that on me is all."

"Lead singer. My band's called Milkbone."

"Why Milkbone?" He snickers.

"Think about it Bad Boy."

"I don't need to, just wanted to hear it from your mouth."

"Hard to wrap your mouth around it is it Gnarly?" She winks.

"No comment Pinky. I'll respect your Grampa."

Floyd hisses loudly, "Fuck that Ponytail Boy. Milkbone means blowjob. I'm old not dead."

The three of them laugh in unison. Once the chuckles end Floyd scowls, "Keep your mitts off my Granddaughter and I'll give you a chance. Part time. 24 hours a week. Take it or leave it."

"Grampa be nice." Pinky frowns at his behavior.

"All good Pinky." Gnarly puts a palm up to relax her offense, "It's better than nothing and it gives me time to look for some venues to play in."

"I might be able to help you with that. I know quite a few local bands."

"I guess catching your fall was a good thing."

"Be sure to be in the audience next time I stage dive then." She grins devilishly.

"You been in trouble with the law?" Floyd feels Gavin out for character.

"Not since High School. Stupid kid stuff. Streaking at a party. Minor offenses really."

Pinky stares at his crotch, "Wish I'd been there to see that."

Floyd quickly scolds her. "Knock it off Priscilla. I don't need a sexual harassment charge in our store."

"No worries. I can hang with the Three Big Dogs, remember?" Gavin smirks.

"Uh huh! Keep your paws off my Priscilla." Floyd turns around to walk off. Immediately Pinky rushes toward Gavin and takes his hands raising them up under her shirt to squeeze both of her tits. The stalker nearly knocked over a spindle of records trying to get a peek. Gavin poised an eyebrow at her mischievous demeanor.

"I saw that." Floyd groans, "It's called mirrors."

Pinky backed off laughing, "Sorry I couldn't resist getting his blood pressure up. You've still got the job even though you fondled the ladies."

"Technically you made me fondle the ladies."

"That's ok. Here I'll get even." She reaches low and grabs his dick through his pants. Looking down at her hand he sighs.

"Throwing a Milkbone at the Three Dogs?"

"You Sir are no dog."

"When do I start?"

"Come back Monday morning. $12.00 an hour. No benefits." Floyd yells from behind the counter. "Dress like you work at a music store. Not at a bank."

"Unless it's a sperm bank." Pinky whispers wagging her tongue his direction. Shaking his head Gavin points at Pinky.

"Slow it down."

"Sorry." She puts her hands in her back pockets and stares at him without blinking. Bobbing breasts due to lifting up and down on her toes. She had some gorgeous hazel eyes.

"Don't be sorry Pinky."

"Girlfriend? No wedding band but that doesn't mean you don't have a girlfriend."

"Nope. Not looking for one either. I like the single life."

"Awesome. Plaything it is. See you on Monday Gnarly."

Shaking his head he abandons her. Looking over at her young stalker he makes a blown mind expression and acts like he's still holding Pinky's tits. The younger man grins and nods his affirmation. He couldn't agree more. Pinky Ware alias Pinky Sware was definitely smoking hot. Her middle name was Sue.

Passing the counter Gavin takes the time to stop and backtrack in order to face Floyd. Extending a hand he offers his gratitude. Floyd merely looks at his hand.

"After you had my granddaughter's bare breasts in those mitts? Buy some sanitizer before you come back on Monday."

Gavin puckers and turns away, "Thanks again Floyd." He hadn't even acknowledged the three other women in the store shopping that were checking him out. Nor the guys impressed with his swagger. Pinky had to brag to them about Gavin's hands. Pinky was a nympho. Floyd? He was all business.

Paying his parking Gnarly realized just how expensive it would be on a daily basis. Calculating in his head the weekly expense he concluded, "Working for nothing but parking and gas money." He knew Floyd was too cheap to pay for that aspect. He would just tell him Mass Transit. Disgruntled by the thought he nearly rejected the idea of showing up on Monday. There were two things keeping him from doing that. One being, Pinky knew the metal scene in Chicago. Potential connections could be made. The second, Pinky's breasts were damn nice. He could see titty fucking her some time. Knowing her vibe already that would probably be on Monday. The consideration made him grin. He was liking Chicago. No shortage of Honeys in the city that was for certain.

Surviving downtown traffic he headed for the burbs for his next job destination. He wanted options. Even if it meant working three jobs to keep the bills paid he would do so. There was no way that he would ever call his parents and ask them for a loan. Pride meant everything to the man. Gavin Reese was not a mooch.

GPS getting him slightly turned around he finally found his target. A liquor store needed a stock boy. He liked booze so it made sense. The liquor store rested directly between two other outlets. One a used Guitar store called Second String, the other a Tattoo Parlor known as Flesh Start. He had to chuckle at the parlor name.

Jamming to Bullet for my Valentine as he pulled in facing the sidewalk his arrival caught the eye of two of the Tattoo artists. Both were smoking cigarettes outside as per the law. One a bald man with full sleeves of artwork wearing a Slayer T-shirt. He had a goatee and gauged earlobes. Beside him a hot young raven haired beauty that could have been a teenaged Joan Jett. Blue feather tip extensions in her hair. Wearing a white wife beater to show off her own tattoos covering her upper chest, both shoulders and her entire spine. Every single tattoo was of a flock of bluebirds resting on thin tree branches. The left temple of her face had a tiny bluebird as well. Her pants were intentionally cut black leggings. Knees and upper thighs only. Bangles and a nose piercing blinged her out. Those visible that is. Sitting in his Jeep until the song My Betrayal ended he watched the man flick his cigarette out into the lot. Song over Gavin steps from his Jeep and locks it with a key remote.

"British rock fan?" The man struck up conversation.

"Pretty much all metal. British. Danish like Volbeat. You name it." Gavin halted to lean on the front of his vehicles grill to be sociable.

"Nice. You look like you could be a rocker. Except for one thing."

"Tattoos?" Gavin guessed knowing full well the guy was looking for business.

The woman decided to take a stroll in between them her eyes definitely checking Gavin out. Moving to the lot the men watch her bend over to pick up the man's discarded cigarette butt. That was not the butt that drew their attention though. Her extra tight behind tugged tight between her legs and exposed the upper formation of her butt crack. A tiny bluebird rested right at the tip top of her crack as if a calling card. Lingering for only a second she stands up and turns, flicking the cashed butt back at the man she gets feisty.

"Keep America beautiful asshole. Use your Coke can or get an ashtray."

"Fuck you Mavis."

"You've hit it already. Wasn't that great. Keep your ink in your gun Hawke." She shook her head. Gavin eyed her chest. Her nipples were poking out hard and it was easy to tell they were pierced with little bars. She notes his eyes and caresses her right nipple. "Perches for my birdy's."

"I reckon you like birds."

"I do. So, no tattoos?" She looks him over better.

"Nope. Made a promise to my Grandma not to ruin a perfectly good bod."

"Damn shame Bro." Hawke enters the conversation, "You'd look killer with some sleeves on those arms. Might make you look like a Rockstar."

"On my way there without a tat." Gavin chuckles.

"You play?" Mavis grew curious.

"Forward aren't you?"

"An instrument Dickhead." She smirks shaking her head.

"Just being charming." Gavin flirts, "Grandma has five tats. I was joshing you. Grew up a farm boy. I guess I was never in any hurry to needle up." He pauses to look toward the guitar store. It was calling out to him. Eying the Help Wanted sign in the liquor store window weighed him down. Priority he told himself.

"You get brave you look me up...?" Mavis was fishing for a name.

"Gnarly. Not the expression that's my nickname. Plenty of balls I'm just in no hurry. Besides..."He points out the job sign in the liquor store window, "Need a job to pay for a tat. I'll keep you in mind, Mavis was it?"

"Yep. Mavis Flye. Nice to meet you ballsy Gnarly."

"Anyone ever call you Mayfly?"

"Only my Gramps. You really are a farm boy. How can you be a Rocker? Shouldn't you be playing Travis Tritt or something?"

"I respect ole Travis just as much but I'm bleeding metal. Never needed a scarecrow on the farm. Just kicked my amp up and shook the corn fields. Crows went flying."

"So you do play."

"Guitar."

"Lead or bass?" She narrows her eyes.

"Lead. Own an Ibanez and a Fender Stratocaster. My Dad's old Gibson Les Paul."

"Any good?"

"Been in a few bands in my day."

"Doesn't mean you're good." She scowls moving over to put her cigarette butt out in her own Pepsi can.

Gavin gives another glance toward the guitar store. He couldn't resist. "Let's go find out."

Curiosity consumes Mavis, "Man the shop."

"Always do." Hawke lights another cigarette. He was in no hurry to go finish drawing a tattoo sketch for a client. Business was really slow today anyway.

Gavin opens the door to Second String and plays the gentleman for Mavis. She rejects his offer and motions him in, telling him, "So Lead." Nodding Gavin took the hint. In they went. Only one man worked there, a middle aged man with a deep bronze tan, dark hair with a short ponytail. He wore a shirt promoting Chicago Open Air Rock Festival 2018.

"Afternoon Mavis."

"Sup Franky? Hook my friend here up with a practice run. He thinks he's Eddie Van Halen."

"Never said that." Gavin shakes his head.

Franky Ferret, true name Franklin Ferretino moved from his seat behind a glass counter to follow them around. He lingered behind Mavis checking out her heart shaped bottom.

"Not here for your drum solo Franky. Eyes on the Vai's."

Gavin loved her sense of humor in such a droll manner.

"Good choice Mavis." Franky reaches out to procure a white guitar poising it for Gavin. "Ibanez JEM7V. Stevie's favorite."

Claiming it Gavin studies it for beauty. Mavis continued shaking her head, "You gonna hook it up or propose to it?"

"Amp's over here." Franky motions them to follow toward the back of the store. Plugging him in Gavin tunes it to his satisfaction. Picks were attached to the guitar for usage. A few awkward chords just to make it appear he was a novice Gavin cut loose with his rendition of Back In Black from AC/DC. Finally Mavis places a hand over the strings stopping his performance.

"Everyone learns to play that. Show me the shit Gnarly."

Grinning he brushes her hand aside and drives into the best solo of The Bleeding from Five Finger Death Punch. That impressed her more. Switching mid stream he covers Powerslave from Iron Maiden. Ending it with Slayer's Seasons in the Abyss."

Lost in his playing he hadn't noticed Franky set up a second amp for Mavis who armed her own Stratocaster to join in. Caught off guard Gavin opens his eyes and observes her leap into Pantera's Cemetery Gates before leaping into Painkiller by Judas Priest. Laughing together the jam session ended with clapping. Standing in the store doorway was Hawke and another edition, a tall blond wearing a white business suit. She offered a brilliant smile toward them. Moving closer in her high heels the blond leans down and kisses Mavis. Winking at Gavin after Mavis points at him.

"My bitch."

"Weren't looking to steal more than a glance Mayfly."

"Mayfly?" The blond sighs, "I prefer Bluebird."

Mavis casts a thumb toward her girl, "She's addicted to my Thrush."

"I'm Ginger." She shakes Gavin's hand as Franky takes their guitars unhooking them.

"Gnarly. Gavin's my real name." His attention wavers away from the buxom beauty Ginger, "That was some fancy jammin' Mavis. You in a band?"

"Yep. Band's called Milkbone."

Stunned Gavin flares his brows. "Ain't that interestin', I just met your lead singer Pinky. Got a part time job at her record store."

"No shit." Mavis puckers, "Small world. I'll call ole Pinky and tell her we met."

"I better get next door and apply before it gets any later."

Hawke rubs the back of his neck, "Hate to break it to you Dude, but the Manager just removed the wanted sign. I think he hired another guy."

"Story of my life." Gavin frowns.

Mavis felt bad stealing him away. Trying to console him she peps up, "You should come jam with us. We've got a gig next Saturday at a bar over in Naperville, place called Rock Steady."

Absorbing the offer he nods, "I might just do that."

"I brought you lunch Bluebird." Ginger interrupts, "I have to get back to work. Nice meeting you Gavin Gnarly."

"You to Ginger Bread."

"Ginger Bread?" The blond grins curiously, "Ah! He can tell I come from money."

"How come I never see any of it?" Mavis growls.

"She is such a liar. Drop by our house sometime. I'll prove her wrong."

"All these invites who needs a job?" He chuckles.

"I'm fairly sure we can offer you a job." Ginger flirts with Gavin eying his crotch. Confused Gavin leers at Mavis who shrugs.

"Bands not called Milkbone for no reason. We're Bi but we love each other."

"They never invite me over." Hawke chimes in grimacing.

"What part of Man the Shop did you not understand?" Mavis orders him out.

Ginger winks toward Gavin, "Give him our address. Dinner tomorrow night. We can eat and you can watch Mavis work on my tattoos."

"You have tats?" He looks her over. None on her arms or legs.

"I'm a professional. Some things need to be concealed." Ginger flutters her fingers then struts away. Behind them Franky nearly drops the guitars watching her leave. Such nice long legs.

"What's Ginger do for a living?"

"Lawyer by day. Stripper by night. Pays her student loans. Her parents cut her off. Anyways, it was good rockin' with you Gnarly."

"You too Mayfly."

"Sorry about the job."

"When it rains it pours."

Mavis now eyes his crotch, "Lookin' forward to the flood Noah." Going to the counter she jots an address and number down for him. Passing it off she adds, "Don't get lost."

Strutting away Mavis stops to glance at Franky.

"Yo Franky?" She peels her leggings over her bare ass and uses both hands to spank herself right in front of him like beating bongos, "There's your drum solo."

Franky grinned like the devil at Gavin, "She's got the beat."

That she did.

Gavin headed home.

All in all a damn good day.