This is Part 2 of a sequel to the Vix’s Licks series, picking up after the epic gig at the Magna Carta, and following Vix’s band as they continue gigging and then embark on a European tour.
Best to read Vix’s Licks, and Part 1 before this, to be familiar with the characters and background.
***
‘Aww, and there was I looking forward to us being jet-set rock stars,’ said Mads with exaggerated disappointment..
We were making travel arrangements for our gig in Scotland. I was paying for everyone’s travel and accommodation, so I had taken charge and booked train tickets rather than flights. It’s not that I couldn’t afford flights, but the train is better environmentally, and just a more pleasant way to travel, I think. Plus, Dad would definitely approve of me not just splashing the cash around. It would appeal to his highly-developed thrift-sense.
I had also booked us two nights, one each side of the gig, in the ‘Z Hotel’ in Glasgow city centre. How could I not? We are The Zelmas, after all.
This was to be a band-only trip (no partners) which caused Mads, Nikki, and Jemma to cry foul because I was in the lucky position of my partner being in the band. They had a point, I suppose, but I was paying so they’d have to lump it.
All our gear was going up with our crew, Joe and Ben, in their van. Ben was actually a Scot and he was full of enthusiasm; ‘I’m always up for a trip back to God’s own country, he grinned.’ Our third crew member was the ever-willing Marv, Dad’s sound wizard, who would once again, make us sound brilliant.
They were going to travel up on the day of the gig, stay one night with a mate of Ben’s, then drive back the day after. ‘Nothing better than a gruelling road trip on shitty British motorways, eh? With a bit of luck, the weather will be foul and there will be an accident and a 5-mile tailback near Preston,’ said Joe, with tongue firmly in cheek. I could tell he was looking forward to it.
‘Well, give yourselves enough time. We don’t want to end up in Glasgow without any gear.’ I said, slightly anxiously.
Don’t you worry Vixie,’ said Ben, ‘we’re setting off at 5am. We’ll have time for a bevy in The Griffin well before mic time.’
We five Zelmas made doubly sure everything was in the van the day before we caught the train, then we all parted and arranged to meet up next day at Euston station. Well, all except Roo and I; she was of course staying with me.
We went back into the house and I nipped for a pee. When I came out, Roo and Mum were in the kitchen talking. Mum was looking great in a pair of tailored black trousers and subtly sexy lacy top, but my eyes were magnetically drawn to Roo. She was sitting on a dining chair with one leg drawn up and her chin resting on her knee, and even in just cropped jeans, trainers, and a t-shirt she looked so bloody adorable. She smiled at me when I walked in (as she always does) and my heart gave a little throb (as it always does).
I grabbed a chair opposite her and sat listening to them chatting away, but I fell to musing about my girlfriend and how lucky I was to have her. As you know by now, I’m a very horny girl, and often get turned on by other women, especially tall, curvy women like Della, or Olivia, but nobody, and no body, makes me feel like Roo does. That little smile, or the most innocent of touches, can make my heart leap in my chest like it never has before, and sex with her has a whole extra dimension to it. A layer of emotion that goes way beyond simple lust or even desire. She is my muse and more.
I joined in with the chit-chat for a while, but I was aching to take her up to my lair. She was making no attempt to be sexy, but just watching her and listening to her voice was making me decidedly moist. I wasn’t going to last long. Thankfully, Mum and Dad were going out to eat, and Dad soon popped his head in, saying ‘Ready, Tess?’ and they departed, leaving Roo and me alone.
We had already eaten earlier in the evening, so as soon as Dad’s car crunched the gravel of the drive, I wordlessly took her hand and led her to my room.
There was a wonderful sense of anticipation as we climbed the stairs, side by side, smiling knowingly at each other, and I couldn’t resist giving her peachy bum a squeeze, making her chuckle and say ‘Ooo, saucy’ in an exaggeratedly comedic voice.
When we got into the room, we immediately stripped to our underwear, as we often do, and my breath caught in my throat as her gorgeously gauzy bra and pants were revealed. They were in a very pale tan colour, almost cream, with exquisite tiny lace trim, and very transparent. As I’ve probably said before, her breasts would make any bra look stunning, and this one was just beautiful.
I stepped close to her and ran my hands up her ribs until they cupped those stunning tits. ‘Mmm, fucking gorgeous,’ I whispered, and she pushed her head forward, meeting my lips with hers for a wonderful, electrifying smooch. Holding her boobs like this, feeling their weight and their amazing combination of softness and firmness, while kissing her, is impossibly thrilling to me. It always reminds me of that very first physical encounter with her in the backstage room of the Almacén; that very brief flirtatious kiss and caress is so indelibly etched in my mind. In those fleeting, magic moments, she had penetrated the very core of me, and every time we did this, I was just reliving them.
I squeezed her breasts gently together, and swept my thumbs, very gently, across her nipples. Back and forth, back and forth, then round and round feeling them grow harder and even more prominent under my touch. Always an intense thrill.
We smooched on; gently, soft lips to soft lips, then more aggressively, with tongues and teeth, salacious with saliva, then back to gentle again, smearing and smoothly osculating.
Her hands travelled softly down over my waist and hips, slipped inside the waistband of my knickers, and embraced my bum cheeks. She gave them a momentary jiggle, then continued down until her fingers were exploring the creases where thighs meet buttocks, then on, to slip between my legs, where they encountered my luxurious wetness. She pushed my sodden gusset out of the way and teased my slippery lips, murmuring ‘Mm mmm’ in appreciation. Her fingers explored my delicate folds, flirting with my clit but not actually touching it, and my body was almost reaching out for her, willing her to come inside.
I broke our kiss with a gasp as her fingertips teased my entrance, and I moaned, ‘Yes… oh fuck yes…’ as she simultaneously curled her fingers into me, and bent her head to kiss my neck. She knows full well how powerful that is for me, and she drove me crazy kissing down to my throat then back up to my ear lobe, then down again, while still teasing me with her deft digits. She had two fingers inside me now, lubriciously writhing and stretching my walls, while the other hand sought my clit, bathing and smearing it in a hot mess of oily juice and sending me soaring into the pleasure dome. I threw my head back and abandoned myself to the bliss of her consummate caresses until my body roared and I spiralled into an irresistible and utterly delicious orgasm.
My legs gave way numerous times as I came, but she supported me, holding me tight against her as my body spasmed and jerked and I moaned and sighed my rapture into her ear. For one so dainty, I’m amazed at her strength sometimes.
As I gradually calmed, she eased me down until I was sat on the bed and I supported myself with my hands behind me, still panting slightly in the aftermath. She took hold of my knickers, which were already half off my arse, and pulled them down, then she pressed them to her face and sucked them, salaciously, savouring my orgasm juice and gasping, ‘Oh fuck that’s so hot.’
She stood in front of me and unhooked her bra, releasing her simply gorgeous tits, then she pushed her knickers down and stepped out of them. She picked them up between finger and thumb and dropped them cheekily on my head. It was my turn to taste her, and I grabbed them eagerly and pressed them to my lips, savouring the warm, sultry flavour of her. They were very wet – almost as wet as mine — betraying how aroused she was – and I sucked her sticky, creamy essence from the fabric with relish.
She moved closer, straddling my knees, and leaned forward, offering me those marvellous breasts, and I dropped the knickers and took one of her nipples between my lips, pressing my face against her and squishing her tit against her ribcage. I’ve tried before to describe how perfect her boobs are, and probably failed. They are not impressively huge, but the shape of them and the feel of them – that almost contradictory combination of softness and firmness – is just transcendent. I revelled in the feeling of sucking on her nipple, slobbering and drooling over it as she massaged her other tit against the side of my face, because she knows how much I love that.
I wasn’t really aware that her other hand had been busy between her legs until she brought it up and insistently slipped it between my mouth and her breast, smearing her nipple and areola with her lovely sapid juice. She kissed the top of my head and whispered ‘A bit of extra sweetness for you…’
Ohh, so fucking hot!
I was suddenly overcome with a craving for her pussy now, and I slid off the bed so that I was sitting between her legs. Her pussy was right there in front of my face, hot, aroused, with lips glistening wetly, but before diving in, I held her by the hips and looked up at her, drinking in her beauty as she stood there, looking down at me expectantly. She told me later that my eyes were wet and misty and I’m not at all surprised. I was so happy it was almost heartbreaking.
I turned my attention back to her pussy – her beautiful pussy – and I just touched her wet lips with my tongue, enjoying her taste, and the silky feel of her pubes against my nose. I wanted to take it slowly, to savour it, but she was so horny she couldn’t wait. She put her hands on my head and pushed her hips forward, imposing herself on me. Making me eat it. She started grinding against me, rotating her hips and smearing her hot, hungry wetness all over my face.
‘Oh, fuck Vix, that’s so fckn hot. Stick your tongue out….yeah, that’s it… oohh fuuck… so fckn horny….ah, ah ah…’
She pushed herself harder against me, and I sank lower so I was properly under her as she thrust back and forth, covering my whole face and spreading her juice wider and wider. I could even feel the wetness of her thighs as they swept across my ears, over and over, faster and faster. She had me by handfuls of hair, and I just let her use me like a sex toy, keeping my tongue out and my mouth wide open as she fucked me, urgently.
Her grunting became more and more primal and animalistic as she built up towards her climax. Whenever I’ve done this to her, I’ve always come much more quickly, but Roo takes a while. I kind of envy her slow build up.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ugh, ugh, oh, oh, OH, OH, OHH, OHH, OHH,OHHH, OOHHH, OOHH, OOOHHHHH… FUUCKKKKK!!!
She pressed my head against the bed, her pubic bone squishing my nose and my top lip roughly as her climactic throes seized her. Hot musky lava collected in my throat and I swallowed it gratefully. It was love lava. Her gift of passion to me. How could I not love every drop of it?
Her knees flexed, and her weight momentarily crushed my head into the mattress as she slumped forward and fell face down on the bed, her now limp legs still straddling my head. I remained sitting with my head back against the bottom of her bum cheeks, licking my lips and smiling as little whimpers and juddery tremors rippled through her.
I gave her a minute, then I turned my head and kissed the inside of her slick wet thigh, the coating of her juice now rapidly cooling. She stirred, audibly sucking in her drool, and gasped, ‘Oh, my God, Vix, that was intense.’ She wriggled backwards, dragging her pubes and her belly across my face, and I managed to steal a quick tit kiss as they swept over me. Kneeling on the floor astride me, she took my face in her hands and gave me the most full-blooded snog you can imagine. Absolutely brim-full of passion. Jeezus she’s so hot!.
We went for a shower, squeezing into the small cubicle together, and bathed ourselves in soapy, sudsy giggles, then we snuggled into bed and lay there, glowing, and watching some videos of The Delgados until yawns became impossible to stifle and we surrendered to Morpheus. Tomorrow, Scotland.
***
Euston station. 12:10pm. Busy busy busy. Pick up tickets. Check the platform number. Double check the departure time. Look around anxiously for a glimpse of our bandmates. Look at the clock 1000 times. 12:22. Head towards the train, and there they are! Mads, Nikki, and Jemma. All stood together on the platform by the train. All looking great, even in their most slouchy and cazh clothes. All carrying girly rucksacks, and all wearing big grins when they see us. I don’t know why, but I’m always buzzed by meeting my mates like this, and now, it was an extra special buzz because now, we were a band, and we were off to Scotland to do a gig. Supporting The Delgados, no less.
Hugs and cheeky kisses all round, distribute tickets, don’t forget to get aboard, and — dot on 12:30!! — we’re off.
I may have vetoed flying, but I had booked Premium tickets, with the big reclining seats. It’s four hours plus to Glasgow so I thought we should have a bit of comfort. We chattered excitedly for a while, but then fell silent, all looking at our phones as the train rattled along.
I alternated between reading articles in Far Out magazine, and looking out of the window, watching the scenery whizz by. I noticed Mads gazing out of the window too, with a dreamy, wistful look on her face. Pining for Nena, perhaps. I couldn’t help thinking how beautiful she looked like that. There was an innocence about her that is usually concealed under that aura of feisty, sexy confidence she has. She really is a bit of an enigma. There is more to her than I’ve yet discovered.
Roo nudged me with her foot and nodded towards a woman sitting on her own further down the carriage – an attractive but not remarkable brunette. There was something vaguely familiar about her but I didn’t recognise her. I looked quizzically back at Roo, and she whispered ‘Sandi Thom.’
‘Really?’ I hissed back. I looked again, and this time she met my gaze. Yes, it was definitely her. I recognised her striking green eyes. She was remarkable after all. I smiled and looked away.
Sandi Thom is a modestly famous Scottish singer, with a string of releases to her name, but the thing I recalled most about her was an expletive-laden rant against the music business she posted on social media, when she exploded about how crappily she’d been treated. The rant made her much more interesting and more admirable to me, and I was tempted to go and talk to her. She wouldn’t know me from Eve, of course, though she’d surely know who my mum and dad were. I contemplated it for a while but, in the end, I left her to her quiet reading of John Banville’s novel ‘The Blue Guitar.’
The train was somewhere north of Lancaster, passing through a spectacular gorge, and I fell to thinking about the gig. The Delgados had a completely different style to us. Mostly much more mellow and folky, and I wondered whether we should do a slightly different setlist, to better fit in with them. Of course, we should have thought about it sooner, but we did have a few softer numbers in our growing repertoire that we could include, to make the set a bit less frenetic.
I raised it with the girls, and there were mixed feelings; Nikki and Jemma thought it was unwise to mess with it at the 11th hour. Roo thought it might be ‘interesting,’ and Mads was ambivalent. I had the impression her head wasn’t in it completely. She was distracted.
Chattering and wrangling about it took us all the way to Glasgow Central, and we were still undecided as we disembarked and headed for our hotel.
At Roo’s suggestion, we stopped off at Drouthy’s for food and drinks. It’s a really great old-fashioned pub and, it being quite early in the evening, it was fairly quiet, so we grabbed a comfy corner and stayed for three hours, ending up replete and quite squiffy.
The girl who was serving, clearing tables etc, was a trip, and she seemed to take a shine to us. Table service is not the norm in British pubs, not for drinks anyway, but she brought us another round more than once and seemed to like hanging around us.
She was skinny and covered in tattoos, which is not my thing, but she had pink hair, so there was a nod of recognition towards me, with my purple-pink mop. We “coloured” girls have to stick together y’know.
She was wearing a short denim skirt, big clumpy shoes, and a half-unbuttoned granddad shirt which gave us many a glimpse of her very slight cleavage, and she was bubbly in the extreme — bordering on hyper — with an accent so thick even Roo struggled to understand her sometimes. Most of her jokes and teases were not lost on us though, and I’m pretty sure she was gay.
At one point, Roo asked her why she had a slight limp, and she pulled up the hem of her skirt to reveal a doozie of a bruise on her thigh where she’d fallen over a chair when drunk. The bruise was mid-thigh, but she pulled her skirt up high enough for us to get a nice glimpse of her white knickers and, in doing so, stumbled and put a hand on my shoulder to steady herself. Roo looked at me and raised her eyebrows… Oh, yes. Of course we would.
I wondered if she was this saucy and flirtatious with all the customers, and I reflected that if she was she’d probably end up getting sacked, which would be a great shame.
We tottered into the hotel at 8:30pm and collected our room keys. Nikki, Jemma, and Mads had a single room each, while Roo and I had a double, booked in the name of Mrs and Mrs Standen-Fraser. It gave me a little thrill to book the room like this, but when I announced us at reception, I got a reproving look from Roo, and smirks from the others. It wasn’t a very serious reproving look though, so think I got away with it.
The hotel is in a converted print works and the rooms were tiny. Nicely furnished and comfortable but definitely not roomy. Our room had only just enough space to walk around the bed, and a chair in the corner (plus an en-suite of course) but that didn’t stop me from inviting the other girls in to watch TV. We all had a bottle of wine in our bags (obviously) and we lay on the bed, drinking precariously from plastic glasses, and laughing at some comedy film or other.
Roo and I were in the middle, with Jem and Nik on each side, and Mads lying between us a bit lower down the bed, like a figurative wedge, using us as a backrest. I loved the smell of her hair and it took a lot of willpower not to kiss the top of her head as she lay there, looking lovely in her t-shirt and jeans. I was loving the intimacy of this; all five of us, kind of in bed together, and I just couldn’t help enjoying the feeling of Nikki’s ample sideboob occasionally brushing my arm.
Mads, naughty as ever, shifted her head slightly towards Roo and said, ‘Mmm, your tit makes a great pillow.’
Roo sniggered slightly, and Jemma said, ‘Are you three sure you don’t want to be alone?’
God… At that moment, I could certainly have gone for that. My knickers were decidedly moist and I’d lay money on Roo’s and Mads’ being the same. The sexual tension between the three of us was almost palpable, but I just said ‘Hey mind your own business and watch the film,’ and Nikki chuckled, making her tit jiggle against my arm. Mmm.
The film finished and Jemma got up, saying, ‘Gotta go and phone Trent.’
Nikki followed, saying ‘Me too,’ then looked embarrassed… ‘Well, not Trent, obviously, but…’ we all grinned. She’s delightfully ditsy sometimes.