Singer’s Story

By: David Divers
(© 2008-2009 by the author)
Edited by: Madison Cole

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 15
Another Type of Beginning

I was growing in more ways than one. At just under sixteen years old, I had been voted “Best New Male Gospel Singer of the Year,” and had performed on the most prestigious country/Gospel music venue in the world. Now my family and I would appear on the biggest religious cable network in television. The name of the special was “New Voices of the Nineties.” You would think that all that was an answer to some kind of a lifelong dream. But the reality was that it was first just my Daddy’s dream, and up to now in my life I had mainly been along for the ride. But for the first time I now had a spark of ambition for fame and fortune. I had seen California and I knew for sure that there was a life beyond the four walls of the tour bus.

Up to that point, singing was just something my family and I did. We were singers and musicians. Other people were farmers or factory workers or truck drivers. If my Daddy hadn’t been an evangelist and musician, I probably would just be like any other boy growing up in the South despite my sexual proclivities. But now I had seen a small part of the beautiful life that was possible, and my goal was to get my share of it. It didn’t have to be a California lifestyle, but I wanted some time in my life that didn’t have wheels on it.

That Sunday we all met at the headquarters of the cable TV network and they gave us a tentative lineup.  The Stone family would be the opening act on the show. Then the show’s hosts would introduce each of the Best New Male Vocalist finalists in reverse order. Since I was appearing last, I would do one solo and then Chris and I would sing “Battleground” together to close the show.  “Battleground” would be officially released by the label in three weeks, and part of the deal with the cable network was that the show would be aired on July 4^th, the same day Chris and I would begin our promotional tour for the recording.

The show was a one-hour special, but with all of the setups and walk-through, it took us about three hours to rehearse. There was an audience, and they kept interrupting with applause which also caused delays. So, time passed slowly. I was just feeling anxious to do my songs and then go home. We had just two more days of vacation, and I wanted to get away somehow and do some more “California things.”

To tell the truth, a lot of what we did during the rehearsals was simply boring. Daddy said the session reminded him of his old army days—“hurry up and wait.” The Stone Family song, “Sheltered Life,” was the one song we would do togther as a group. We had adopted the the Opry house band’s intro, so it had a new life to it. I played lead guitar on it and then added some slide guitar to imitate the steel guitar part. We would use that intro to start the song off, so it was a totally new sound.  Then there was the usual Family interview . After that came the other interviews and songs of the three finalists and then at last it was my turn. The male host would introduce me as this year’s winner and then ask me about life on the road with my family. For the most part, I would give the same rehearsed answers that I had been giving for two years except I added a part that Daddy and I had been discussing over the years and especially during our vacation in California.

Several years before it had been suggested that as part of revivals we also hold youth rallies with me and my brothers and sister leading them. At the time, I didn’t want to do it because I didn’t know if I could try to tell kids how to live their lives when I hadn’t fully learned to live my own. I knew all the right words to say, but I didn’t feel the call to say them. Furthermore, I knew in my own heart that the only reason I refrained from the “sinful life” was the lack of opportunity.

As I have related in previous chapters, just like the Stone Family’s first hit record, “Sheltered Life,” my life was truly sheltered. Except for those few brief times when I managed to get some private times with Bobby, Chris, and now Alan, I lived in the cocoon of our Hollow, the coach, and the church. I knew nothing else. Even the money we earned didn’t really have that big an influence on me because I really never wanted anything. Money was just a kind of scorecard. We were successful when the money rolled in. We had plenty of “things” back in the Hollow—if and when we were ever home. But our lives didn’t revolve around “things.”  Since most of our lives were spent in the coach, our “things” had to fit the coach lifestyle.

Anyway, Daddy had begun talking about those youth rallies again on several occasions during the past month while we were touring the South.  He said, “I always imagined you would follow in my footsteps …that you would continue the ministry where I leave off. This would be a good step in that direction.”

I told him honestly, “Daddy, I don’t really feel the call to preach … I would just be acting a part that I don’t really feel.”

Daddy surprised me somewhat when he replied, “To be perfectly honest, Billy Ray, I don’t always feel the call either, but once you get in the pulpit it just somehow takes over. And besides, there are lots of evangelists faking it these days.”

I said, “Daddy, I love you and respect your ministry, but I don’t want to just be a shadow of you. Look at all the major televangelists who build up a dynasty and then their sons take over where they leave off … as if it was a family business. I haven’t seen one of them that hold a candle to their fathers.”

“That’s true,” Daddy replied, “But ours is different! You have the talent, the stage presence, and the looks to surpass me, hands down. You don’t have to be a clone of me. You can be a powerful influence on young people, with or without the call. There are several churches even on this one tour that would love to have you talk to their young people. It doesn’t have to be a real formal program. You and the kids can just sing a few songs, and talk to them about the Lord while your Mamma and I hold the adult revival. Whether you evangelize or just use your influence can’t be anything but positive. You remember in the old days before we hit the big time? Remember how the kids used to sit up and pay attention when you would sing and witness to them? You could be even more effective now that you are a leading Southern Gospel singer. With your influence, these young people can turn their lives around. I want you to think about it, and if you decide to do it we will have to give them an answer pretty soon so that they can plan and advertise it.”

I didn’t know what to say … As I said previously, I had listened to enough sermons over the years that I could imitate my Daddy to a “T.” I knew all the right words, but I didn’t know if I could really put the feeling into it to make it sincere. And the last thing I wanted to do was come across as phony …

At Chris’s apartment the night before, I had talked to him about it also. Chris maintained that it was something only I could decide for myself. He said, “Have you ever thought about why you are singing in the first place? Is it going to be your profession, or will it be a ministry? I am not speaking of your family, but what is your own motivation? When I play somewhere, it is strictly business. I am an entertainer of Christians—not necessarily a Christian entertainer.”

“If I play in a church and the minister introduces me, he may choose to refer to my music as my ministry. I do not deny it, but I am strictly there to sing and earn money. I do not pretend to preach to anybody. Your Dad on the other hand is an evangelist. His ministry is music. Y’all may get wealthy in the business, but at heart he is a minister. At some point you have to decide what you are personally.”  

He continued, “We had that personal manager talk to us at the Opry, remember? Maybe it wasn’t exactly an offer, but I believe he was serious. We can have a choice of whether we want to try to cross over into country and possibly even pop music. So you have to think about what you personally want to do. I would love to continue to sing with you for the rest of my career, but I am not about to try to draw you away from your family. You are the one who has to decide where this recording together thing is going …You have your whole professional life ahead of you. You need to think about it.”

For three weeks I had mostly been thinking about nothing else. I was just turning sixteen in two days, and I knew I had my whole life ahead of me. There was no hurry in making any type of commitment. If the personal manager was interested when I was just fifteen, he would be just as interested when I turned eighteen or even older. I knew that I didn’t have to rush into any commitments with managers, or with Chris either, for that matter. Maybe it sounds cold when I say that I liked Chris and we had many special times together, but it was not a lifetime commitment—not at that age, anyway.

I had thought about it a lot and for the first time in a long time I sincerely prayed for guidance. By the next morning I still didn’t have great revelation, but inside I truly felt like I wanted to be a positive influence on kids—especially teens. So, I told my Daddy I would do it, but only if I could do it my way and if there would be no adult telling me what to say or how to say it. I would plan it out and rehearse it the way I wanted it to be.

As a result of my decision, during the interview portion of the TV program I planned to announce that the kids and I were going to be holding youth rallies in the coming weeks, and to look for us in California, Washington, and Oregon. Although the show wouldn’t air until the 4^th of July, there would be promotional ads on the cable network for both the show and the rallies.

After the rehearsal, I was just casually looking around and saw the Filipino guy Alan waiting in the wings with a girl. I went over and Alan introduced me to the girl, Ruth. Alan claimed Ruth was his girlfriend, which sort of surprised me for a minute. I chatted briefly with both of them and then led them over to my parents to introduce them. I told Mamma and Daddy, “This is Alan, one of the guys who went sailing and scuba diving with us yesterday.”

Alan was very macho acting and charming, despite his deceptively beautiful face. He and Ruth were very lovey-dovey and he told my folks how much he enjoyed our singing and the show in general. Alan revealed he was a student at UCLA studying business administration and that he and Ruth had been going together since high school. As it was getting toward evening, Alan asked them if I could go out to dinner with him and then to a small party with friends after we ate. He promised he would bring me back to the condo at whatever time they wanted me in. After Alan assured Mamma and Daddy that none of his friends were into alcohol or drugs, they gave their approval. Both of my parentes were smitten with his personality and charm. After that, we all went outside and I showed them around the coach. I then took a quick shower, changed into casual clothes, and we left.

In the car, Alan told me the real story—that Ruth and he had indeed been  close friends since high school, but she knew he was gay and was happy to help him try to set this up. Alan called her his “beard.” I didn’t really know what that meant, but I later found out it was like his mask to hide his sexuality. In the years to come I had many such “beards”—in fact, I even had a wife who I loved dearly, but she was really just a mask for me as well.

We drove to Ruth’s apartment and dropped her off. We then continued to Alan’s apartment. As we entered and closed the front door, he turned around and kissed me deeply. He said, “I never thought I’d get you alone again.”

We embraced all the way to the sofa and collapsed onto it. Alan’s hands were all over me, caressing my body from my thighs to my chest, and my hands were just as lively. It felt so good just to be with him. Alan slipped his hands under my polo shirt and sensuously massaged my nipples. I had never experienced such sensation from them before—they had been just decorative little nubbins on my chest before now—but I was so relaxed with Alan that I focused more on his attention and they suddenly came awake to his touch. Feeling my nipples become hard in his fingers, Alan lifted my shirt and began licking and sucking them in earnest. My cock was already as hard as I could possibly get, so I couldn’t tell if it had an erotic effect on me, but it sure felt good. Alan slipped my shirt over my head as I drew my arms out, and he tossed the shirt backwards over his shoulder, landing it somewhere in the dimly lit room. While he continued to minister to my lips and nipples, Alan unzipped my fly and unbuttoned the top button of my pants. With one hand he slid them down over my butt as I simultaneously raised up to free them. I kicked off my loafers as he slid my pants and briefs off, and they quickly followed my shirt into some dark corner.

Meanwhile, I also stripped Alan of most of his clothes, and I could see him in all his tan glory. Because of my ancestry I was naturally somewhat dark complected, but alongside Alan, I looked like Frosty the Snowman. We nestled together on his couch, and he began nuzzling his way from my lips to my nips, and then to my crotch. I raised one leg up on the back of the couch like an old dog that wanted his belly scratched. As he neared my cock, Alan laid his cheek on it and his hot breath caused the head to pulse out clear nectar from the slit. He stuck out his tongue, licked up the precum, and spread the salty fluid all over the head. Pursing his lips, Alan sipped out the juice as if doing it through a soda straw. He then began bathing both my shaft and my drawn up balls, giving them butterfly kisses from the tip to the root. Continuing south, he planted kisses and love bites as he approached my twitching hole. I spread my knees until my crack was wide open to him and his tongue licked its way into the core of me. Alan flicked it in and out and screwed it into me as far as it could go.

As you know, being a bottom was not really my thing, but he had me so hot I  had to try him out. I whispered, “I’m ready whenever you are …” He raised his head, reached into a drawer of the end table, and retrieved a tube of lube and a package of condoms. Taking the lube, Alan spread a generous amount on his fingers and gently slid one into me. He worked his digit in and out a few times, gradually adding more fingers until I was stretched wide open. Alan’s cock was not real large, and he loosely rolled the condom down his shaft. I grabbed the lube and laid a bead of it down the condom and slid my fist up and down a few times  to spread it around.  He grabbed a pair of cushions from the end of the couch, raised me up, and slid them under my ass. I was gaped wide open and ready. As Alan knelt between my upraised legs, he began pushing forward with his body weight until the head of his cock touched my hole. Gradually, his beautiful shaft entered me and insistently pushed its way in until he completely bottomed out in the recesses of my waiting butt.

My hips were already fully extended and blocked by the pillows … I couldn’t move, so Alan had to do everything. He began slowly pushing his dick in and out of me. With every stroke, I tried to thrust after him … I just wanted him inside me as deep as he could get. As I moved, the pillows gradually contoured themselves to the shape of my ass, allowing me at least some freedom of movement. I began thrusting forward to meet him, and he parried from side to side, moving his hips in a fantastic circular motion. We were now racing together rapidly toward the breaking point, and Alan and I erupted almost simultaneously—him inside me and me between our stomachs. Gradually, our mutual thrusting and pulsating slowed … all I could do was continue to kiss him.

Being young, dumb, and full of cum, we made the evening last. We got cleaned up, reversed roles, and we made love to each other again. By then I was becoming numb to further stimulation, however, and we found our clothes, dressed, and he took me to a friend’s home where there actually was a party going on. Alan introduced me to all the girls at the party, and being the shy country boy, I played the part of an ignorant hick to the hilt. All of them wanted to show me around the Los Angeles area, and when they found out I was a singer, they found a guitar and made me sing a few songs for them. I knew a number of southern rock tunes that I had memorized from the radio, so I played some Lynyrd Skynyrd and a few Eagles songs for the crowd gathered around me. They couldn’t believe how well I improvised them.  They wanted to know what I was doing in town, and when I told them about the TV program the next day, they all said they were going to come for the taping—so much for a focused, quiet time, I thought. True to his word to my parents, Alan got me back to the condo by 11 p.m., and I slept in the next day until 10 a.m.

Posted: 09/18/09