Three Song Inspired Stories

by Freya Gersemi

© Copyright 2025 Freya Gersemi. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact freyagersemi@gmail.com.

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Book Cover Design by ahorsewithnoname.

I would like to thank:

AlexFourways for his never-ending support.

Figjamkiss for making sure that what I write makes sense to others.

ahorsewithnoname for his awesome website and for helping me navigate the publishing world.

bistander for the great writing prompt that resulted in these song-inspired stories.

Thank you, all!

Foreword

About a year into my erotic fiction journey, a gentleman that goes by the name of ahorsewithnoname (ironic, huh?) got in touch with me about a site that he had founded called WRIST where authors were allowed to write, chat, interact, and explore their art all without the everpresent Internet trolls. I basically said, “Oh, that’s nice,” and didn’t really do anything about it because I was happy where I was.

But then I did check his website out.

And I wish that I had looked into it sooner!

Anyway, one of the things that they do is have writing contests where the authors are anonymous. This allows readers to vote based on the merit of the work, not any biases for or against the author.

A member of WRIST named bistander, started a contest where writers had to come up with a story based on a song. I wrote three stories under this premise and they are assembled here in this book.

So, do you want to have some fun?

Read each story and try to figure out the song that I used as inspiration for each one. There are hints throughout (names of songwriters, lyrical clues, hints to the song titles - all kinds of stuff!), but I must warn you that the songs I used are hidden pretty well!! BUT all three of the songs I used were all big hits from big artists. Of course, with billions of songs, you may have heard them or you may not have heard them. But you can still enjoy the stories and the game!!

At the end of each story, I have a page with some hints. And then after the hints, I give you the song and artist I used for that story.

Give it a try and be sure to let me know how you did!! You can reach me at freyagersemi@gmail.com.

“Hey” - Chapter 1

“I don’t know what your problem with having some fun is. It’s a party. Besides, last week you agreed that you would go with me.”

“That was last week,” Andy replied. “Tonight, I just don’t want to go.”

“So… now I have to go all alone? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Every time you drag me to one of these parties, you try to set me up with some loser and every single time it ends in disaster!”

“No. Not always,” Alison protested, but it didn’t come out sounding very convincing.

“Connor? Remember him? From three weeks ago?”

“He was nice… but… weird.”

Andy crossed her arms and stared at Alison.

“Not every guy can be as great as your long-lost love, James, you know.”

“There we are!” Andy threw her hands up in disgust. “You just need to drag James back into every conversation, don’t you? Throw that right in my face, huh?”

“Evelynn, help me out, here,” Alison pleaded, realizing her mistake and desperately hoping for an ally in this discussion that had quickly turned into a confrontation.

“Don’t you dare get me involved! You brought him up, Alison. This is your problem. I have to head out anyway.”

Alison turned back to Andy and smiled sweetly, hoping to defuse the escalating situation. “It’s just a fun little party, anyway.”

“I really just don’t want to go.” Andy’s face still looked angry, but at least her voice sounded calmer.

“But Evelynn can’t go and I need someone to go with me,” Alison pleaded. “Tim’s gonna be there and I don’t want to go alone.”

“Ugh. Tim,” Andy moaned with a grimace.

“He’s hot,” Alison replied with a dreamy look in her eyes.

“He’s a tool.”

Alison grinned. “I’ve heard that he has quite a large tool. Hopefully he’ll be drilling me later tonight!”

“You’re disgusting!” Andy exclaimed.

“Why? Because I enjoy sex?”

“Because you’re obsessed with sex.”

“And you’re obsessed with imaginary true love.”

Andy’s face clouded over at that comment. “I’m a romantic,” she pouted.

Realizing that Andy was about to sink into her pity pit about how James was supposed to be the one, Alison grabbed her hand. “Come on. The party’ll be fun.”

Resignedly, Andy muttered, “Fine.” She had discovered long ago that resisting Alison was almost always a complete waste of time.

A half-hour later they were slowly driving down a side street two towns over.

“It’s 13 West Reading Ave.,” Andy said, peering at the address scrawled on the back of a torn envelope.

“Okay. Here’s West Reading.” Alison put her turn signal on and steered the car down the dark street. “And I’m guessing that the house with all of the lights on and all of the cars in front of it is 13.”

Still unconvinced that she even wanted to be there at all, Andy shrugged. “Yeah. Must be.”

Parking the car behind a small yellow convertible, Alison proclaimed, “We’re here! Let the hunt for Tim’s cock begin!”

“Disgusting,” Andy muttered as she unbuckled herself and opened the car door.

The party was loud and bright and utterly annoying to Andy, so she quickly found a quiet corner to occupy and observe the throng of people. Alison had already scurried off to court Tim and his giant tool, so Andy just stood by a large potted plant and nibbled on a couple of stale crackers. She watched Alison across the room fawning all over the fabled Tim. “Gross,” she mumbled, biting down on a cracker.

Andy spent the next fifteen minutes just watching the people at the party interact. She was always amazed at how easily people could force laughter and fake smiles like they do. She grabbed another cracker while she lamented the fact that she was never able to be so at ease with the pretend social graces that someone like Alison always seemed to be.

And then she froze as she looked up and her view was almost entirely blocked by the most gorgeous man she had ever laid her eyes on.

He smiled and somehow he became even more gorgeous. “Hi.”

He said a few other words - probably his name and stuff - but Andy just stood there, half a cracker soggifying in her gaping open mouth, the other half held in mid-air, mere millimeters away from her completely immobile lips. She could feel her eyes drying out, but was unable to blink for fear of missing a split second of this vision before her.

“Uh, sorry,” this vision said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your Triscuit time.”

Barely able to speak with the mush in her mouth, Andy still felt the need to reply. To say something. Anything. “It’s not a Triscuit,” she babbled, trying not to spit wet cracker at this man, and instantly regretted her unbelievably stupid remark.

“Well, I’m not much of a cracker connoisseur,” he admitted.

Hastily swallowing the mess in her mouth, Andy, for some reason unbeknownst to her, doubled down on her idiotic comment with a lame attempt at a joke. “Oh, I am.”

He arched his eyebrows in intrigue.

Deciding to try to dig herself out of this verbal hellhole, Andy continued. “If it has anything to do with crackers, I’m the expert.” She started to gain steam, feeling that she was back on her game. “In fact, some people argue that a Triscuit is not even a true cracker - I’m not one of those heathens, though. I believe that a Triscuit squarely falls into the cracker family.”

“‘Squarely,’ huh?” He smiled at the joke.

Andy smiled back at him and at the immediate ease of their playful conversation. “Squarely,” she confirmed, happy that this joke landed.

He nodded.

“And don’t even get me started on animal crackers,” Andy spat that last word out as if the letters themselves had a foul taste.

“Oh, I won’t. I won’t.” He held up his hands in preemptive surrender. “Hey, can I get you anything? A drink?”

“Ginger ale would be nice.”

“Sure.”

Andy nodded and smiled.

“I’ll be right back.”

And then he was gone.

“Hey” - Chapter 2

Andy blinked, nourishing her long-forgotten eyeballs and put the other half of the cracker into her mouth. She replayed the short scene in her head trying to make sense of it all - everything had happened so quickly - but before she could even begin thinking it all through, Alison rushed up to her.

“Come on, let’s go. Tim’s an asshole.”

“No. I -”

“Now.” Alison grabbed Andy’s arm and started dragging her towards the door. Andy desperately looked around but couldn’t see her mystery man through all faces, and she knew that it would be futile to resist the hand wrapped around her wrist. When Alison had that look in her eyes and that tone in her voice - well, there just was no resisting.

In the car, Alison turned the ignition and the old engine stumbled to life. She grumbled to herself as she shifted the car into gear, stepped on the accelerator, and they sped off down the road and away from the party.

But Andy was equally angry. Angry at Alison and angry at herself for allowing Alison to drag her out of the party. The party that she hadn’t even wanted to attend. The party that she, from Alison’s standpoint, had spent just standing in a corner, alone and bored.

Too late, Andy said, “I wanted to stay. You know that I was talking to a guy when you dragged me out?”

“No you weren’t.”

“I was. He went to get me a drink and then you interrupted.”

Completely ignoring Andy’s despair, Alison crooned, “Ooooo, really? So, against your vehement desire to self-sabotage every single potential relationship before they can even begin, you actually allowed yourself to meet someone new?”

“I was in the process of meeting someone… until you dragged me away.” Andy frowned in the dark of the passenger seat. “I didn’t even get his name.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll ask Abby. She’ll know who it was. What did he look like?”

Andy’s frown became a smile remembering his face. “He was kind of tall. Dark hair. Dark brown eyes. Gorgeous.”

“Tall, dark, and handsome?” Alison questioned. “You’re making that up.”

For a fraction of a second, Andy doubted herself. She wondered if she actually had imagined the guy. “No. He was real,” she stated with a slight nod, confirming the truth to herself.

“And he was interested in you?”

“Why do you say it like that?”

“You’re scrawny and gangly. Stringy blonde hair. Squinty eyes. And they’re that weird blue color. Kind of… intense. In a kind of scary way. And you got small tits. And no ass.”