by Sara Frost
“Beautiful cities make beautiful women very horny.”
“I can’t wait to test that one out,” leered Tony, bending down and planting a kiss in Janey’s delicious bosom as Dianne covered her eyes in embarrassment. She had already started to hear some of the kinky things that Janey was trying out with her two new friends, and the thought of what new heights—or depths—they would achieve made her blush.
“Fucking hell,” grumbled Dan. “Don’t you ever give it a rest?”
“What’s up, Dan?” jeered Tony. “Still waiting to find a beautiful woman to check if their horny for you?”
Dan said nothing but looked back at Tony via the rear view mirror with pure malevolence in his eyes.
“I’m sure we can find someone for you,” James joined in. “Mind you, it has to be a special type, doesn’t it.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Dan snarled at this.
“Yeah, do you reckon there’ll be anyone like Birgit in Prague? I mean, you hear all sorts of things about these Eastern European women. All tastes catered for, eh?”
“But I guess the problem is that we can’t be sure that Dan’s really on the lookout for a woman, now, can we,” mused Tony, lifting a finger to his lips in a melodramatic posture as though thinking. Janey said nothing, smirking as the two men on either side of her ribbed Dan, but Dianne was aware that Cam’s shoulders were rigid now and the tension was growing from the driver’s seat.
“Fucking shut it!” Dan slammed his hands on the steering wheel.
Tony ignored him. “I guess we could find the right lady, but she’d have to be packing something extra—you know, down there.” Both James and Janey laughed at this and Dianne had a glimpse of Dan’s face fixed in a rictus of fury in the mirror.
“The one thing I can’t quite decide...” James was speaking up more boldly now, which somewhat surprised Dianne. Janey’s presence was having an effect on him in multiple ways. “...is whether Birgit took it or gave it.”
“Yeah, I’ve wondered that as well.” Tony leaned forward and placed a hand on Dan’s shoulder across the back of the seat. “Perhaps you can let us know, Daniel: what’s it like to take it up the arse? And did she have a big cock? That’s what we all want to know.” Dianne turned her head at this, blushing for reasons she didn’t want to share with the rest of the group.
“Can you really call her a ‘she’? I’m confused,” James again assumed an innocent expression. “Is a tranny a ‘he’ or a ‘she’? Perhaps you could tell us, Dan, seeing as you’re the expert and all that.”
“I didn’t fucking know, okay? And that fucking cunt Darius let me carry on like a right fucking idiot!”
“Oh, I think you did really well. Really well. We’ll find you someone similar in Prague. One chick with a dick coming right up. Or two, if you’d prefer a spit roast.” Tony was revelling in the situation now, but the bassist’s reaction threw even him.
They had been travelling along one of the main highways towards Prague and were passing a slip road that led into the middle of the Czech countryside. Without warning, Dan pulled hard on the wheel, speeding along the road and causing cars behind them to start hitting horns in warning as they veered out the way.
Dan was driving fast, too fast it seemed, as they came towards the turning, and Dianne gripped the seat as the van turned at an impossible angle. Oh fuck, she thought. Oh shit! I don’t want to die!
But they didn’t overturn, and though there was a cacophony of horns they were not hit either. Instead, they were driven towards the side of the road at full speed then lurched forwards in their seats as Dan hit the brakes hard. Dianne glimpsed James and Janey beside her, white faced and obviously as terrified as she was.
“You fucking cunts!” Dan howled when he had come to a stop. “I thought we were mates! I thought we were in this together! And instead you drag these fucking whores along and then fucking lay into me like I’m a piece of shit on your shoes. You cunts!”
Cam began to remonstrate with him, but the Mancunian had slipped his seatbelt and opened the door, recklessly stepping out into traffic that sped by, horns still blazing. Looking out the window, Dianne could see him running into the fields beside the road and—for the first time since she had ever met him—she felt a twinge of sympathy towards him.
Inside the van was complete silence. “Talk about over-reacting,” said Tony at last.
“You stupid, bloody idiots.” Cam’s voice was angry as he turned to look back at them. “You couldn’t let it rest, could you?”
“They didn’t mean anything.” Janey’s tone was emollient, conciliatory, but she fell silent beneath Cam’s stern gaze.
“Oh, fucking hell,” Tony grumbled at last. “I’ll go and see what the stupid prick’s up to.” Without waiting for any further sanction from Cam, he pulled the door open beside them and slid from the van.
“Why don’t I drive for a bit?” Dianne said, attempting to change the subject. Cam nodded and she too opened the door, climbing out on the side opposite to Tony’s. She could see the drummer talking to Dan who was shouting at him, though they were too far away for her to hear clearly what was said. As she shut the door, she glanced back at Janey and James who were sitting there like two naughty school children.
It took Tony nearly half an hour to calm Dan down, and only then did he succeed when Cam joined the pair of them. When he returned to van, the bassist didn’t take a seat behind the drivers but instead slumped in the back among their equipment. The rest of the journey to Prague was silent.
When they finally arrived in Prague, the mood within the White Ark improved a little upon seeing the city. Unlike Berlin, none of the members of the band had been here before, and while the outskirts were lined with condominium blocks and high rises, as they drove nearer the centre even Dan had to admit that this was a place worth visiting.
As they had driven in from the west, the outskirts had been nothing exceptional, with old, Communist-era blocks huddling the streets. When they came closer to the river, however, Dianne and Janey clutched each other in joy at the sight of the tall, red-roofed buildings clustered around Prague Castle. Ancient stone bridges spanned the river and, as they followed their way to the centre of the newer city people were milling around street cafes and shops, enjoying the pleasures of a summer day.
“Oh my God,” Janey gasped. “It’s so beautiful.”
“I know,” Dianne replied, her eyes flashing towards Cam who was grinning as he sat in the front seat. “I can’t believe we’re here.”
Dan appeared to have recovered from his earlier temper, although his attention was more often than not attracted by the beautiful women who seemed almost countless in number.
“With so many beauties round here,” Tony quipped, “we should be able to find someone who satisfies your tastes.” Dan hit him for this, but nobody was in the mood to return to the incident earlier that day.
Yet their pleasures were not undiluted. Unfortunately, while not exactly every expense had been spared with their hotel, nonetheless plenty of corners had been cut.
“Anyone would think that Darius Optimus didn’t like us,” Tony observed rather grimly as they stared at the faded lobby of their latest accommodation.
“I must say, girl,” Janey chipped in, “if I knew you’d be living the high life quite so spectacularly, I’m not sure I’d have been so eager to join the tour. No offence boys.”
“None taken,” James said with a sigh. “I thought we were doing better since Berlin, but this is pretty bad. I don’t think it’s been decorated since the 1970s.”
“It’s a fucking shithole is what it is,” Dan growled.
“Please, guys, give it a rest,” Cam sighed. “It looks clean, if a little dowdy—and think what stories you’ll have to tell your grandchildren: you stayed in one of the last communist-inspired hotels in Europe. That’s got to be worth a free beer at least.”
“I think Kruschev would have preferred something a little more upmarket,” Dianne observed then
immediately regretted it when Cam flashed her a hurt glance.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “We may not be in the best hotel in the world, but at least I’ll make sure we get the best rooms in this place.”
As he and Tony went across to check in, Dan wandered away to look at some particularly uninspiring photos of what appeared to be brutalist concrete buildings while James hung around Janey. Dianne couldn’t help but smile at the keyboard players relations with her friend: he seemed to gain increased confidence around the slightly older woman, while Janey appeared to have a genuine affection for the shy, blond-haired lad. Not for the first time Dianne wondered what they and Tony got up to in their private moments together and couldn’t suppress a smile.
“What’s up, honey-buns?” Janey asked, catching a glimpse of the smile.
“Nothing. Despite the fact that this isn’t the best hotel in the world, I’m glad you’re here.”
Janey scrutinised her for a moment, making Dianne feel a little strange for reasons she couldn’t explain. “You look good, you know,” Janey observed at last. “I mean, you’ve always looked beautiful—but there’s something really different about you.”
“Same for Cam as well,” James chipped in. “I mean, he doesn’t really relax at the moment—you know, with all this kind of crap going on. But I’ve never seen him look so alive.”
Janey patted his hand and all three of them looked back to where Cam and Tony were crossing to them.
“It’s done,” Cam said, his expression somewhat pained. “I’ve upgraded the rooms, so we may as well enjoy what we can in Prague.”
As they broke away to their separate rooms—one virtue of the new arrangement was that Cam had only had to upgrade one suite for Tony, James and Janey, who unlocked the door giggling like schoolchildren while Dan walked along the corridor in surly silence—Cam lifted his and Dianne’s bags.
“It’s not so bad,” he said, surveying the room with an expression that slightly contradicted his hopeful words.
“I guess so, but what is it with all these photographs? Prague looks really beautiful, so why do they keep showing these horrible buildings?”
“I think they’ve found a niche for a particular type of tourist—one who misses the communist era after all.” A thought suddenly occurred to Cam and he grimaced. “God alone knows what breakfast will be like.”
“That’s okay—we can find somewhere else.”
He sighed at this. Over the weeks, Dianne had become more and more attuned to his moods and feelings. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
For a while Cam didn’t answer her. At last he mumbled: “It’s nothing.”
“Yes it is! Come on, Cam. Tell me.”
He crossed over to the bed and sat down, looking out the window. At least their view was something to raise the spirits, with views across red-tiled roofs and medieval churches.
“You know when the guys were complaining about getting paid?” he began. He still looked at the scenery, refusing to turn his head in Dianne’s direction.
“Yes.” She said the word slowly. She had some idea what was coming, but wanted to encourage him to speak, to share with her.
“Yeah, well... it’s getting pretty bad. I’m just racking stuff up on credit cards, trying to hold the band together. Darius and his management, however, are being real bastards. They find all sorts of reasons to keep hold of the money and...” He shrugged, unable to continue.
Dianne came and sat beside him, placing her hand on his. “I thought Johnny was going to sort it out.”
Cam let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. “Johnny’s too strung out. I wish we’d never come, you know.” The latter was said with such feeling, his blue eyes turning to Dianne with such a mournful expression, she thought her heart would break.
“You can leave, you know.”
He shook his head at this. “No, then we’ll never get paid. Anyway...” suddenly a smile flashed across his face like sun breaking through the crowds. “I think after this tour Black Ark will be able to do more things on their own terms—and if I’d never come along, I’d never have met you.”
“Oh God...” Dianne’s voice was suddenly very small. “You mean that, don’t you.”
He nodded. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life. I’m sorry, I’ve been an asshole a couple of times, and I thought when we started...” He paused and then shrugged. “I may as well be honest, I thought a tour like this would be a great way to get laid. Then I met you, and everything changed.”
“Everything?” Dianne asked, her voice still small as Cam came closer to her, his face an inch away from her neck now. She could feel his breath on her skin, and her pulse began to race as it did so often when he was near.
“Everything,” Cam murmured. As he pressed his lips to her flesh, so she gently fell backwards with the motion of his face, leading him down towards the bed.
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning was bright and clear, with the sun blazing in the sky above. Cam was determined to make sure that Black Ark was fully prepared to kick ass but Dianne decided to take the opportunity to explore the city.
Watching Cam get ready, the tattoos across his shoulders rippling as he pulled on a shirt before sitting on the bed to find his shoes, Dianne felt a warm, squirming feeling inside her. Her loins and breasts ached, and her nipples were so tender that she thought that if she touched them she would have another orgasm—something that made her giggle with dread: she didn’t think she could take another orgasm.
“What’s wrong?” Cam asked, half turning so that he could see her, his eyes warm with life—and love, Dianne realised. That made her squirm even more.
“Nothing,” she replied, sitting up in the bed and hugging him as he sat on the edge, her bare breasts pressing into the fabric of his shirt. She could smell the soap on his body and, beneath that clean scent, something muskier—a masculine smell that always turned her on. “I was just thinking how hot you look—and how lucky I am.”
“That makes two of us,” he said, turning more fully now so that he could half pull her across his lap, bending his head to hers. She closed her eyes as they kissed, his warm tongue entering her wet mouth, searching inside her. She felt herself opening up below and a half groan escaped her lips. God! This was too much, when even a kiss could inspire such a response.
Part of her wanted him, but part of her also wanted the satisfaction of denying... not him. No, of denying herself. She had never felt so satisfied in all her life: she felt aroused all the time, but much of the pleasure of such a state came from prolonging that sensation, of deferring climax for as long as she could hold out. She knew that for the day ahead she would see the city with eyes made fresh with desire, and she trembled in his arms at that thought.
“I guess we have time,” Cam murmured, his lips hovering next to hers. “You know, if you like.”
“You’re trying to kill me!” she gasped. “Bloody hell, Cam! How do you get it up so much?”
“That’s easy,” was his reply, “when I’m around you.”
She fell back onto the bed, her upper torso naked and her hair, tangled and messy, falling across her shoulders. She spread her bare arms across the pillows and stared at him, her eyes half-hooded. What would it be like, she wondered, to let him fuck her now, when her pussy was aching with willing pain? What would it be like to let him hurt her tenderly, to push into that sensitive flesh, make it burn even more?
Her juices trickled between her thighs a little—and this time it really burnt. “Go on,” she said reluctantly. “Go and get everything ready for tonight. I’ll be waiting for you. Always.”
“Always?” he echoed.
“Always.”
She watched him go with the strangest feeling inside herself. It was almost as though she was indulging a delicious, mild perversion, denying her body its needs to make them flame even more brightly. Yet she also loved the way Cam moved now as he was getting ready: since Berlin, a new pur
pose had entered all his actions. He felt he was on the verge of breaking through to something much bigger than ever before and it clearly excited him, made him more confident.
After she had showered, she pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, letting the cotton fall against her bare breasts beneath. They had been so fondled, so mauled—abused even—the night before that even the slightest touch of fabric made them swell again. Fucking hell, girl! she snarled at herself silently. Get a grip.
Once she was ready, she closed the hotel door behind her and went down the corridor to the room where Janey was staying with her boys. There was no answer when she knocked on the door, which made her frown slightly. Surely Janey wouldn’t have left already. She knocked again, more loudly this time.
“Go away!” she recognised the voice and grinned.
“Get up you lazy slag!” she shouted through the door. “The day’ll be gone you get to see it, you fat bitch.”
She heard shuffling sounds from the other side and then the door opened a crack. She glimpsed red, bleary eyes and a mad tangle of blonde hair. “Who you calling fat?” Janey grumbled.
Dianne laughed and pushed gently on the door as Janey stood aside and let her enter. “Come on,” Dianne complained gently. “I want to have a look around Prague.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Janey had a sheet pulled around her. “Grab a drink and I’ll have a shower.” She walked to the bathroom, letting the sheet drop to the floor as she grabbed some clothes so that Dianne caught sight of her hips and buttocks, fuller than Dianne’s, her body slightly stockier.
The bed was a mess. While Janey had pulled the sheet from it, the duvet and pillows looked as though they had been witness to a battle. On the table lay an assortment of bottles, most of them empty or half-empty, and the surface was scattered with traces of white powder. Janey appeared to be throwing herself into the rock and roll lifestyle with an abandon that made Dianne look like a prude.
Making herself a coffee, she sat down on the sofa in the room. Feeling something wet on her buttocks, she quickly stood up: she didn’t want to think too much about what she’d sat in, and instead chose a chair on the other side of the room, gingerly sipping her coffee while she waited for Janey to finish.