When the concert finally finished, she’d watched the group of old men on the stage raise their hands and salute the crowd. Their music still sounded as fresh as it had on her Dad’s old vinyl 12 inch LPs she had listened to when she was growing up. She’d always regretted that she was too young to have seen them live. In fact, she hadn’t even been born when they had split up but thankfully, twenty years later, they had reformed for their one-off 'See the World 2014' world tour. She was lucky enough to be studying at university and her grant cheque had only just been cashed when the tickets went on sale.

She turned to go, admitting to her friends that after three encores, a bunch of men in their sixties would be tired. “It’s probably past their bedtimes,” she joked, but she was stopped by a security guard as they neared the exits.

“Excuse me, Miss. Sorry to bother you but the record company are looking for a few pictures of people to promote the gig, and you fit the bill.”

Chloe turned and shrugged at her friends. 

“We’ll see you in the bar sure.”

Chloe turned back to the security guard who was telling someone on his phone that he’d found a possible.

“Ok Miss, if you’d like to follow me.”

He led the way towards the stage area.

A greasy looking guy with a ponytail and wearing a denim jacket and jeans came over to them as they approached.

“Cheers Steve,” The ponytailed man nodded to the security guard who merely grunted and left.

“Hi, Miss… er... What’s your name?”

“I’m Chloe.”

“Hi Chloe.” The guy put his arm around her which unnerved her. She suddenly felt underdressed in her tee-shirt and black denim skirt. She hugged her denim jacket closer to her. She was sure he was rubbing the edge of her bra strap on purpose.

“So, are you a big fan, then?” He stepped back and looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

“God yeah, I grew up listening to them. Always wished I’d seen them live. Can’t believe it’s finally happened.”

“Well, we asked you to come backstage as you are exactly the girl Dave is looking for.

“Really?” Chloe pulled a face. “What kind of girl is he looking for?”

“A gorgeous redhead with green eyes, a cute petite body and nicely proportioned…” He mimed an hourglass shape. “Well, they may not have been the exact words he used but that was the gist of it.”

“And what do you want me to do? The guy said something about some promo shots.”

“Yeah, well I think it’s some concept Dave has come up with. But why’d don’t we go back to the dressing room and they can tell you all about it.”

“You mean I get to meet Dave? No fucking way! The guys are never going to believe this.”

The ferret faced man grimaced and tried to smile. He waved the Access All Areas badge and led Chloe backstage. After a swift knock on the dressing room door, he led her inside.

Dave turned at the knock and watched as Kevin, the band’s Mr Fix-it came in with the girl behind him.

He felt his heart lurch. It really did look like her. He felt the years disappear as he looked at her. The long red hair with the straight cut fringe, the innocent-looking green eyes. The mouth, with rosebud pink lips glistening as she flicked her tongue nervously. He almost whispered her name. “Karen.”

it was like 1972 all over again. 

He remembered that night…

It had started as a disaster. It was the first night of the tour and they were in Wolverhampton Odeon. The electric wizard, a machine Mike had designed to produce a background orchestral sound wouldn’t work. He could still hear the sound of the sell-out crowd impatiently stamping their feet. After half an hour, they told the promoter to apologise to the audience for the delay. Finally, after forty minutes of watching Mike wire and rewire and swear and kick the machine, it worked.

Dave remembered walking on stage, saying “Sorry for the delay,” and launching into a two-hour set. The band soon had the audience eating out of their hands, the delay long forgotten. Afterwards, swaggering backstage, past the lines of fans and groupies reaching out to touch them, he saw her.

He winked at her and she blushed but when he took her hand, she just grinned and bit her lip but didn’t pull back. He led her by the hand into the dressing room and somehow, within seconds, she was on her knees, giving him the greatest blowjob of his life.

She’d tugged down his leather trousers and swirled her tongue around his cock in such a way as to make his legs quiver. She’d sucked the head into his mouth and held it there as he grew rock hard inside her. In minutes, he had his head thrown back and was pumping his load down her throat as she sucked him like a vacuum. Her lips caressed the head while her tongue flickered over the tip. She finally released his cock with a pop and grinned up at him.

It was only the next morning that he found out her name was Karen.

After that, Karen barely left his side. She sat beside him as the tour bus spent the autumn of ‘72 rolling through the English countryside. He remembered how she’d giggled and got a nosebleed the first time she did a line of cocaine. She was a fast learner though. Soon, she was dicing up the lines of coke on a little table every night as she waited for him to come off stage.

He was so in love. She was 22, two years younger than him and had just graduated with a History degree. She used to tell him she was more interested in making history than studying it. She’d watch and take photographs from the side of the stage and often they’d use them in the sleeve notes of their albums.

For over two years, they’d done everything together. She was like a sixth member of the band. Every stop on the tour, every night after a recording session, they’d do drugs and fuck.

And then she died. 

The press had a field day after she was found dead in one of the bedrooms during a particularly raucous end-of-tour party. The coroner ruled it was death by misadventure. A cocaine overdose leading to a heart attack. His world fell apart. 

For six or seven months, he’d moved on auto-pilot. He’d look through the pile of photographs over and over. There were biscuit tins full of them. Scattered amongst them were ones of her that he had snapped. She used to always shout at him not to break her camera but would switch into the most flirtatious poses just in time for the shutter to click and capture her forever.

Kevin’s cough brought him back to the present. Dave looked at the girl and nodded to Kevin. The girl blushed as he walked closer.

“Hi,” he smiled. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Chloe,” she blushed and giggled. 

She couldn’t quite believe this was happening. She felt all starstruck and struck dumb as she stood in front of her idol. He looked good for a guy in his 60s, especially considering the stories about all the drugs he did. The grey hair suited him. It made him look more distinguished.

“Hi, Chloe.” His voice was like butter and she could feel herself melting. “I’ve got a little concept going for the next album cover and I was hoping you’d be a part of it. I want to photograph your face.” 

He reached out and traced his fingers along her cheek. Her mouth opened and a sigh escaped.

“I want to capture your beauty.” He gazed into her eyes. The pupils of his big brown eyes seemed to grow and she imagined drowning in them.

“Would you mind letting me take your picture?”

Chloe blushed some more.

“S..s..s..sure.” She looked around. “What do you want me to do?”

Kevin leant in with a clipboard. 

“Would you mind just signing this, it permits us to use your picture?”

Chloe quickly scanned through the release document and scrawled her name and address at the bottom.

“Great, I’ll leave you to it then,” Kevin announced and quickly left the room.

Dave picked up Karen’s old camera and checked if the film was wound on. He’d kept it with him since 1974. He’d felt somehow connected to her through the camera in the intervening forty years.

“The concept for the album cover involves lots of girls' faces, all in the same pose and position, together forming an image. All the girls look similar. Hence why you were selected. You fit the bill.”

He smiled and shrugged as if explaining the concept embarrassed him somehow or perhaps it was because, over the years, he’d photographed hundreds of girls in the same pose, all of them bearing some resemblance to Karen.

“Can you kneel down on the floor there?”

Chloe looked to where he indicated. She raised an eyebrow, but not wanting to refuse, slowly lowered herself down. The rough green carpet dug into her knees through her sheer tights.

“Now look up at me, stare into the camera.”

As Dave looked through the viewfinder, he saw Karen again. Saw her big green eyes staring up, grinning at him, that first night when she dropped to her knees and tugged his trousers down. He felt his cock swell in his jeans as he looked at Chloe.

He’d offered a silent prayer to Nicholas Terret, the inventor of sildenafil and swallowed the little blue pill as soon as word had come through that they’d spotted a girl in the crowd. Now, as he twisted the focus ring, bringing her in and out of focus, he directed her, making jokes, making her smile as she gazed up at him with her hypnotic green eyes.

“Now stretch your hand out as if about to grab my belt,” Dave ordered.

He snapped picture after picture, holding his breath, watching as Chloe moved her eyes, looked towards his belt and spotted his erection. He saw her falter, saw her blush. Then she giggled and looked up at him.

“Did I cause that?”

He blushed. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself, having someone as beautiful as you kneeling in front of me.”

He knew it sounded like a play, it was a play, it had been played out a thousand times or more over the past forty years but still they fell for it.

Chloe softly brushed her fingers over the bulge. She’d never been this close to someone as famous as this before. When her fingers caused him to give a soft groan of pleasure, she bit her lip and traced the outline of his cock with her first finger. It looked substantial and the thought of her unzipping his jeans caused a dampness in her panties.

She looked up at him, stared into the lens of the camera.

“No more photos, deal?”

“Deal,” he replied. He leant over to place the camera on the table, then stood with his legs slightly spread, letting her do the work. This was how it had been with Karen and this was how he wanted it now. He let her set the pace. 

Chloe’s fingers unbuttoned his jeans, tugging them down to his knees. She ran her fingers over the black silk of his boxer shorts. He loved the feel of silk against this skin. Her fingers slithered through the fly of the shorts. Soft, hot fingers stroked his shaft. She pulled the elasticated waistband of the shorts out to allow them to slip over his hardening cock. They slid down his thighs as she ran her fingers along the shaft.

She knelt between his legs and gazed up at him. His cock was gnarled. Rock hard with pale skin and an angry-looking purple head. Chloe licked her lips nervously. This wasn’t the first cock she’d ever seen but it was certainly the oldest.

As Chloe opened her mouth and rubbed her lips against the swelling purple head, she looked up at him. Their eyes met and he smiled.

He closed his eyes, letting the memories swirl in his mind. It didn’t matter if the redheaded girl on her knees in front of him was from now or forty years ago, the sensations in his cock were the same.

She sucked the head, gripping the shaft with one hand and slowly pumped his cock. The fingertips of her other hand combed through the grey pubes that covered his groin and balls. His balls felt so heavy and full of cum when she cupped them in her hand.

Her tongue swirled like a corkscrew on the head as she milked and twisted the shaft, pulling his foreskin back. She’d sucked her fair share of cock but the person this cock was attached to made the experience so different from any cock she’d sucked before. She started to imagine fucking him, being his girlfriend. Images of front covers with photographs of her and Dave filled her imagination. Rolling Stone, NME, Cosmopolitan.

She started to suck harder, taking more of him into her mouth, wanting to give him the best blowjob he’d ever had. Her fingers brushed his balls. The wizened plums rolled between her fingers as she tried to fit more and more cock into her mouth. Her nose pressed into his grey pubes. The sweaty scent filled her nostrils as she tried to control her gag reflex.

Pulling back, she looked up at him as she dragged her lip covered teeth over the sensitive underside of his head.

“Fuucckkkkk,” he groaned. 

His fingers reached down to stroke her long red hair.  As he caressed her locks and she sucked his cock, Chloe imagined being his wife. Images of waltzing into Harrods or buying a new pair of Louboutins filled her head. She sucked him, forcing herself to take more of his cock into her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears as he wrapped his fingers in her hair and tugged her onto his cock.

She dragged her fingernail along his ass crack. It pushed him over the edge and with a shuddering cry, he fired rope after rope of hot cum into her mouth. Chloe kept her lips wrapped around his cock as his cum filled her mouth. She tried to swallow it all but some of it dribbled out of her mouth and down her chin.

Finally, he released her hair and let her slide off his cock. She knelt between his legs, swallowing his cum and drawing in lungfuls of air. She grinned up at him. She held on to his thighs as she pulled herself up, leaning in to kiss him.

He looked at her. He knew it wasn’t her, and now that he had orgasmed, the spell was broken. Just like hundreds of times before, she was just another girl. The sparkle in her eyes was different. 

He just wanted her to go. He reluctantly kissed her. This was always the bit he hated.

“Thanks for that,” he giggled, running his fingers through his hair. “A bit unexpected.” 

He turned to pick up the camera again. Chloe blushed as the realisation dawned that he wasn’t interested in her any more. She could feel her cheeks redden and she just wanted to get out of there.

“I have to go,” she announced, turning to get out of the room as quickly as possible. She brushed against the man who’d brought her backstage as she opened the door. He must have been waiting outside, she thought, probably listening. Embarrassment built on embarrassment as she quickened her walk, almost running to get away from him.

Six months later, a square package arrived in the post. She opened it and pulled out an advance copy of the band’s new album. The cover was a photomontage of hundreds of girl’s faces, all staring up at the camera. Chloe knew all of them had been on their knees. All of them had long red hair with a straight fringe. The hundreds of tiny photos formed a larger portrait of a girl. The album was simply called ‘Karen’.

She turned the record over. The sleeve notes stated that Karen was Dave’s first wife who had died in 1974. The collage of photographs had been taken by Dave between 1978 and 2014.