A Romantic Interlude
I drove to Providence, Rhode Island to see Lemmy. My marriage was breaking down at this point, my husband in the throes of PTSD from his time in Vietnam. We had some dramatic situations and Brian had taken off with a woman for a weekend (something he justifies to this day!) so our relationship was up in the air. With the marital upheaval, I felt freer to see Lemmy.
It was a day off for the band. I was only there to see Lemmy, so it made no difference to me. It was early afternoon when I arrived. I knocked on the door of his hotel room feeling excited and nervous. Lemmy came to the door in his extremely short frayed cutoff jeans, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He was a sight to see! He had great legs, but it was strange to see him in dressed this way, California style I’d say.
He was in the process of changing rooms for some reason and I helped to move his things into the preferred room. As we settled in, he slipped off his shorts, and he bounced onto the bed. Now wearing nothing but his skimpy little skivvies, he reminded me of my father who would wear those same barely there undies at home around his five teenaged daughters!
I was wearing a little black silk dress I’d made for the occasion, just a sheath really, as plain as can be, but very flattering. This is my favorite kind of dress, that shows off your body without drawing attention to itself, and short enough to feature my legs, my best quality! I wore my black snakeskin boots which also accented my shapely calves.
Men seemed to love my legs. One time in New Jersey, while I was standing on high chair next to the soundboard with Hobbsy, Motorheads’ sound engineer, Lemmy’s friend Scott asked if he could touch my legs. While the band played on he ran his hands up and down my legs as if I were a marble sculpture in a museum! It wasn’t rude or disrespectful, just admiring and feeling the strength of my dancer’s legs.
My mother always said if you are thin enough, you can wear a potato sack and still look good. I would say if your body looks good you don’t need ostentatious clothing or jewelry. I wish I had a photo of me in that dress.
Anyway…
Lemmy offered me a drink and a cigarette, as he usually did.
“Jack and coke would be nice”, I said with a smile, knowing that was all he had to offer.
“Here, get comfortable” Lemmy said, while plumping up the pillows on the bed and inviting me into his arms. “Why don’t you take off your dress so it won’t wrinkle?” Yes, I’m sure that was his concern… my dress!
“Ok!” I said as I jumped to my knees on the bed and began lifting the dress. Mid stream, though, I stopped and thought “ Should I ? and froze there for a moment. He was viewing my 1920’s vintage style black lace undies and my naked breasts, unadorned by lingerie, while I held the dress over my head. In a moment I thought” Oh go on!” and whipped the dress off.
As I laid the dress carefully on the bed I told Lemmy I’d made it.
“It’s rather plain, isn’t it? he questioned.
‘Well yes, but nice, don’t you think? I responded.
“Sober Dress.Inc” was his reply.
Never one to sugarcoat anything, Lemmy would say always exactly what he thought whether you’d like it or not. It was definitely one of my best dresses ever! I later put a label in it saying “Sober Dress Inc”.
We talked a bit as I sunk into his embrace. He knew I was now uncommitted in marriage and he wasted no time in pursuing me. I was no longer off limits. Just like the early days we were kissing, kissing, and kissing some more.
Now he stopped to slip off his skivvies, suggestively. I looked him in the eye and took his already excited phallus in hand and licked up the side. Shockingly, he came to an orgasm with that single lick!
I, nonplussed and he, unembarrassed, we just went back to kissing without any mention of it. That would be the beginning of my sexual encounters with Lemmy.
In time, Lemmy suggested we watch a movie and began looking around for something we’d like. “Dances with Wolves” was on. He patted the bed next to him with a smile.
Now naked, we were sprawled across the bed facing the TV at the foot of the bed.
We settled in and watched the movie. I couldn’t have been happier.
Fantasies of a possible real relationship now began swirling in my mind and would continue to do so periodically over the years until another thud of reality would hit me on the head and I’d realize it would never be. We had different paths to follow that would only intersect from time to time.
I often thought about why he orgasmed so quickly that day. Should I be flattered or was it just a physical response that had nothing to do with me? Of course I’d like to think it was because he was so enthralled and turned on by me.
From time to time when comfortable in a conversation I’d ask men what they thought, and there came a time many years later that I asked Lemmy too, forgetting that it was about him. I wonder if he remembered that day. In response to my question he said it would just be getting excited while in the throes of passion. I choose to take it as a compliment. But I feel sure it was the still shot of me kneeling on the bed with my dress up over my head!