Saturday morning, my crotch was sore from the battering it suffered the previous night with Jeff. I also wondered how well he slept following the revelation that I was way underage.

At around noon, Kevin came over. We spent a couple of hours in my bed naked just fooling around. He got me really wet by having a good old time sucking my nipples before I went down on him and extracted his cum from his balls with my mouth. We dressed, I gave him his guitar lesson and then we worked on him learning more of the Green Day tune. "Hey baby," I began," "do you mind if I hang out with you and your friends at school?" I requested. "Sure babe," he tolerated. I kissed him for that. The time zipped by and he had to leave for dinner.

When he was over Sunday, I was super horny and romped on his cock like it was the last one on earth. The thing was that when my ardor just seemed to peak like that it was usually an indication that my period was about to arrive since it was due Monday and, sure enough, I felt the cramping in my third period class and went into the bathroom afterward to insert a pad in my panties.

After fourth period, I strode up somewhat hesitantly to Kevin and his three buddies Larry, Trent and Jason. I gave him a hug and a little kiss and then he introduced me. I hugged his friends and then we sat there eating and just screwing around. Kevin held my hand almost the entire time. "Are you guys a couple? Larry inquired. "Not really, but we are really good friends," I replied. When the bell rang, he walked me to my class and I kissed him goodbye. I told him I wanted to walk to his house with him after school. It ended up being the four of us and the other three parted from us when they got to the block they all lived on. Kevin led me into his house and I was confronted with his mom. I wasn't expecting that since so many families have both parents working or it is headed up by a single mother. She greeted me and wouldn't let me go into his bedroom with him. So he fetched his guitar and I gave him a guitar lesson for the next few hours. For an amp, he had a Fender Frontman, which was a pretty crappy combo piece. He had to play quietly while his mom watched some daytime talk show.

"Misty, can I talk to you for a minute?" his mom asked. I went to see what she wanted. "Aren't you a little old to be hanging around my son?" she feared. "No, Mrs. Baker. Kevin is actually three months older than I am. "You sure are developed for your age," she remarked jealously. "I'm not sure how to respond to that Mrs. Baker. It's not my fault I look like I do." "I didn't say it was, dear. I just wanted to make sure Kevin wasn't getting involved in something more than he could handle." "Okay Mrs. Baker," I blankly retorted, not sure how to react to that. I got up of the couch and drifted back over to Kevin. I can't say I was totally surprised at what she said, but it made me a little uptight.

We continued with the guitar lesson. I told Kevin what his mom said, which understandably embarrassed and annoyed him, while I watched him work on the final section of the Green Day tune and then had him try to play it from the top. At 5:30, I went home and cut two more You Tube videos, both old Scorpions tracks,  "Pictured Life" and "Backstage Queen."

When I came home from school Tuesday, I checked my You Tube messages and there was an emal from someone purporting to represent a certain media conglomerate that also owned amusement parks and America's most beloved sports cable channel saying that he had been watching my channel for a while and would like to talk with me and my parents about perhaps building a tv series around me. He urged me to call him at a phone number. I didn't want to call him from home and risk giving away my number, so I went to a pay phone and punched it in. A woman picked up announcing that she was with the firm he claimed to be a part of. I asked for the guy and she transferred my call.

"Hi Misty! How are you kiddo?" "Uh hi (Mister X). You said you wanted to speak with me about being in a show?" "That's right. Look darlin', I have another call I have to take.Why don't we meet over at the entrance to (a secondary part of their amusement park) Saturday and we can talk." "With all due respect (Mr. X), I don't know if you're some sex trafficker or pedo. I'm not just going to go meeting strange men who I have no idea who they are and I think you can understand why." "Yeah, I get you kid. Let me get this call and I'll get back to you." "Okay," I assented. I had a seat on the pavement while I waited for him to switch back over to me. Finally, he came back. "You still there Misty?" "Yeah." "Sorry about that. We're just juggling a lot of projects right now. "I believe it," I giggled. "So about the meeting. There is a group of offices on one side of (the secondary amusement park). I'll leave your name and you and your folks can come up to one of the offices there. I usually work out of our L.A. office, but they're not open on the weekends. Since you're in the general vicinity of the park it's better if we meet there. Can you be there around two?" "Yeah, that's no problem (Mr. X). "Great!" "By the way (Mr. X), my parents both work on Saturdays and they can't be there, so I'll just be there myself." "Whatever works," he recognized. "Okay (Mr. X), see you Saturday." "Okay hon. Have fun!"

This was going to be good lulz. When Saturday came, I was dressed in white short shorts and a deeply scoop necked white tank top that displayed my cleavage to an almost obscene extent plus a pair of white heels. I called a cab and it dropped me off at the gate to the property he spoke of. I told someone at the box office that (Mr. X) was expecting me and I gave my name. She handed me a laminate and one of the employees escorted me to what passed for the offices there. The receptionist sent me up to the office (Mr. X) was using. His door was open.

"(Mr. X)? I tentatively guessed. "Misty? Holy shit! You look amazing!" he blurted as he attempted to pad up to me to hug me. "I think I'll pass on the hug (Mr. X). Let's have a seat and tell me what you have to say," I asserted, knocking him off balance. He gave me a weird look but nonetheless returned to his chair behind his desk of the moment. I smirked as he made his pitch. They were thinking about having me head up a program that chronicles the completely fictional adventures of an all girl rock band and the personal offstage lives of those characters. They hoped to find a female guitar hero as well as a credible singer to be the focal point of it and thus that was why I was called. In other words, they wanted me to be a kind of Orianthi meets Miley Cyrus. They would have a staff of songwriters provide the material used in the series and they would have us put out records featuring said tunes.

He asked me what I thought. I peered into his eyes intently. "(Mr. X), don't interrupt me until I'm done because I have a counter proposal for you. What you're talking about is just lame. This isn't 2007 anymore. You're going to need to do something that is more relevant and hip to teens like me. Here is what I want to do: I want to do songs that are like a cross between Death and Mercyful Fate. In other words, melodic death metal. In addition, I want to be able to pick the musicians involved and we get to write all the songs. You will also front me $10 million and $1 million each to every member of the band and we each get an equal share of 50% of the gross revenue the program generates . That would make your company seem edgier and not such a kiddy venue and the group would have real musical credibility while your past stars, including Miley, have ZERO street cred with musicians and the greatest share of my fellow teens. So there it is, take it or leave it," I declared. He was giving me "WTF?" looks.

"And let's face it (Mr. X)," I continued, "you can find a girl my age somewhere in the world who can play as well as I can, but you aren't  going to find one with the combination of my looks and ability. Yeah, you could find some hot chick and give her a little preliminary guitar training and then have a studio guitarist overdub the parts while she mimes to them, but it will look real fakey and everybody will lose interest very quickly because of that. Also, if you let me play death metal on  your kids channel, your audience will grow beyond the usual eight and nine year olds who watch it to teens in junior high and high school who ordinarily would rather take a bullet in the huevos than be caught watching  your stuff. Hell, a lot of them may tune in just to jack off to watching me like they did with Annette Funicello back in the 1960's. A bigger audience means more advertising dollars and your shareholders will like the bigger income generated."

I knew there wasn't a chance in hell he would go for any of this. I loved the fact, though, that he wasn't hearing my satirical pitch from one of the usual gaggle of agents and screenwriters, but someone who he thought was just a 14 year old easily manipulated and starry eyed bimbo. I could tel he had been totally knocked off of his moorings. "Man, little girl, you have some real balls," he interjected. "Yeah, I know. I see them in the mirror every morning after I get out of the shower," I snarked, grabbing my boobs and giving them a shake while I giggled. "Oh, so you're a comedian, too." "No, just the hottest and most musically gifted girl you're going to talk to all year," I riposted. "So what'll it be, boy," I challenged coquettishly, "daytime death metal or the usual lame shit you guys have been producing since the 1950's?"

"You're something else, you know that?" he spluttered. "I know. If I wasn't, you wouldn't have contacted me and asked me to come down here," I parried. "Look dear, none of that shit is going to happen and you seem to be smart enough to know that. So how about you play ball with us and we both get rich?' "Sorry, dude," I frowned. "But I would rather be homeless than lame." I stood up and walked out before he had a chance to kick me out.

As soon as I arrived home, I recounted the whole thing on You Tube, which was then picked up by all the gossip sites and celebrity ass lick tv shows. My You Tube channel was bombarded with requests for interviews, all of which I ignored. This also caused the company involved a lot of public relations problems because the discussion became, "is that  brand showing its age and does its executive ranks need new blood?," never mind that my counter proposal was just outrageous. It became an opportunity for another media food fight. Some of my classmates insisted that I should have just taken the offer and run with it, but others gave me big ups for essentially telling the conglomerate where to stick it through a little performance art. The show, btw, never got  off  the ground. It could be that I poisoned the well, so to speak, and kept it from doing so.

After a couple of weeks, the controversy, such as it was, died off. Kevin and I continued to fuck, play and hang out together. For Christmas, I bought him a real Gibson Les Paul, a Marshall combo amp and a few stomp boxes plus a headphone amp that can run off the pedals, headphones for it and a powered pedal board to put the outboard effects into. He was understandably blown away. I had told him to not bother to get me anything because I could basically afford anything I wanted and he didn't have any money other than the small allowance his parents gave him. That present not only turned him into a real guitar addict who played morning, noon and night, but after I gave him his lesson, we whiled away a lot of time  just looking at guitar sites on  the net and catalogs together while I laid in his arms or reclined my head in his lap or he did in mine. I also talked him into shaving his cock and balls so I wouldn't get hair in my mouth when I gave him a bj. We became so relaxed with each other that he would just ask me to go down on him when he wanted head or I would ask him to fuck me because I was hot for a good drilling. I taught him how to relax so he could stave off his orgasm and prolong my pleasure. He had also become a stellar pussy eater, even if I did have a hair trigger clit. I made sure that the other girls in my school knew about it, too. I did give him some warning about what I was going to say about him in case he might object. We acted like boyfriend and girlfriend, walking hand in hand to school together and then back home and he would often hold me while we talked to his friends during lunch. But it was still understood that we could sleep with other people if we had the chance, though I impressed on him the vital nature of using condoms with them. I notified him that if he ever knocked anyone up or he got a disease I would 86 him out of my life. I did, however, wonder if he spent so much time at my house not just for sex and playing music, but to either occupy my time or make other guys too uncomfortable to visit me.