Jon Bon Jovi had given up everything for a chance to see stardom, including his highschool sweetheart Amelia Sambora.
Now as Jon approaches the most important and most dangerous moments in his professional life, Amelia has a way of making it back in...
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31st March 1987 / Rumson, New Jersey
Jon's bedroom was rather barren. Aside from the ludicrously large bed in the centre, the two small cabinets on either side, and a singular oak closet, it was empty.
The bed was adequate, she found upon sitting on it. The bounce was acceptable, it was certainly soft enough to sustain a good night's sleep.
Feeling nosey, she opened up the first drawer to Jon's bedside cabinet. Upon finding nothing of entertainment value she moved onto the next drawer which was filled with porn magazines. She scoffed and closed it shut again. The third drawer was less conspicuous. It was filled with Polaroids, and having caught glimpse of something she swore she must've imagined, she investigated closer.
There were maybe fifty old photos just at the top, all of them containing her and Jon.
Naked, mostly.
She felt a deep blush rise up her neck and cheeks at sight of them. He still had these? And likely looked at them every once in a while.
She was butt naked in the majority of them, breasts were visible in practically all of them.
She smiled at one of them. She looked young and totally in love, her bare skin littered entirely with hickeys.
Flicking through them she found one of Jon. She felt like a pervert just looking at it, he was butt naked with a hard-on. He had this teasing smirk on his face, a finger hooked in her direction as if he was motioning for her. Others showcased his naked butt and even the two of them together.
Some of them were downright dirty, their most intimate parts on display.
But most of them merely showcased young love at its finest. There was a beauty to them, most of the ones taken of Jon were merely pervy shots that she'd snapped as a joke, but Jon on the other hand had a real eye for photography.
His photos were lovely, there was something sensual about even the dirtiest ones. Her body was always framed perfectly in the shot, there was always a dynamism, a fluidity.
And there were breasts, which was most likely why Jon had taken them.
"You pervin' in my drawers?"
Amelia's butt bounced off the bed. "Oh!" She gasped. "No, I was just-"
His brow remained piqued as he strode toward her. Oh, that look. A look of teasing reprimand.
She crossed her legs.
"The only perv around here is you," she spoke after regaining a little dignity. "You have a stash of naked photos of me."
His chuckle rumbled through he air. The bed dipped as he sat beside her, an arm resting around her hips.
"Us, darling. Not just you."
She tried to hide them from his prying eyes. That was her naked body in those images, it was invasive. But there was no use in trying to shield them from him, there were too many.
