Chapter 14: The Band

“They’re a reggae band,” Leah smiled. “Just local, you know, but not bad. Well, kind of reggae rock. Coming? Or, don’t tell me, you’re actually a rock star already?”

“Oh yes, come,” laughed Cam. “You can get up on stage and cause a riot. Grab the mic, or take over lead guitar. See if the band are as cool as your boyfriend!” She glanced at me while Zann grinned. “Have you got a frock for her Leah? Can I borrow something too, or shall I pop home?”

“Oh I’ve got things for both of you, don’t go. We can have a getting ready session. Lucky you’re not a suit guy Derek, but your shirt and trousers need something ... you can have eyes or what would you like?”

“Eyes?” I had to ask.

“Guyliner,” grinned Cam. “We’ll do it, don’t worry.”

They took my sigh as assent. Zann hadn’t mentioned any singing or guitar-playing...

“Okay,” said she, “but can I get laid?”

“Oh of course,” grinned Leah, stroking down the inviting small of her back onto her perfect ass, “let’s take care of the critical items first.”

Zann spread her naked form out on the bed and the rest of us gathered round her like moths. I slid in to piston her eager pussy while the others kissed and caressed her tits, till in due course a joyful, jerking cum seemed to do the trick for her.

The next step was for them to raid Leah’s extensive stocks of makeup, perfume and clothing; having fun, egging each other on, stroking and giggling as they clustered nudely together, while I lay on the bed recovering and texting home like some miscreant teen.

“The trick is to do our faces with just one thing,” Leah advised, “not everything. Smokey eyes for you Zanzie? Lips for you Cam? I’ve got some glitter left from Glastonbury.”

So after an hour’s fun there were the three hot, confident girls ready for a trip into town on their sexy legs. Zann’s eyes had been exaggerated with a fantastic dark grey shadow with a hint of green, shimmer, outlined and mascara’ed.

Camille’s lips, which are on the thin side, lovely, and wide, were now a bright, glinting red with a sharp outline, and Leah’s Scandinavian cheekbones were sparkling with glitter, making her more alluring than ever.

For myself, I’d been sat in the chair and had my eyebrows tidied and darkened, and black painted onto my eyelids and under my eyes, so that I’d fit in.

Zann’s dress was black, off-the-shoulder and apparently depending on the buoyancy of her braless tits not to slip down and reveal them to an eager world. At the other end it appeared to be relying on the firm protrusion of her ass not to ride up and reveal her black, embroidered panties. The thin fabric stretched over her skin, moulding to every nuance of her body as if to prove its erotic perfection. Black high-heeled boots a few inches above the knee finished off the look.

Leah and Cam were only slightly less extreme, with Cam in a short, yellow, clingy dress that hung precariously from a slender cord round her neck, and heeled sandals. Leah was in Zann’s barely-long-enough jacket (with shoulder pads removed) invisible plunge bra, boy-cut panties, sheer tights and grey heels. I forced myself not to sound like their dad and say something about the cost of the jacket. She looked stunning in it, which helped.

Leah had some wine in the fridge and a couple of cans of beer, so by the time we got into the small former cinema that is now a bar the girls were noticeably up for it, especially Zann. I wondered if she’d drunk at all before, or been to a gig, as she swayed to the reggae on the sound system, while the band were setting up on a good-sized stage in the corner.

“What would you like?” I asked.

“Vodka Martini please,” answered Leah.

“Vodka and pineapple, thanks,” said Cam.

“Vodka n something,” slurred Zann.

I went to the bar, which wasn’t too crowded, while the girls headed off towards the stage. I was relieved to see Leah and Cam shepherding Zann between them, and also that I wasn’t the only guy wearing makeup. I got a beer for myself, the vodka mixes for the adults, a straight orange with no vodka for Zann, and headed over to the stage.

Everyone seemed to have detected the girlie scents, looked, and decided to have them in front where they could see them. I waved my drinks and was let through to join them right up against the stage, which was a convenient height for leaning on. Zann wasn’t leaning on it though, she was still swaying to the beat, trying to get Cam and Leah to dance with her. The people around had made a bit of space, hoping Cam and Leah would.

The background music stopped and the bassist played a few notes that thrummed through the building, while he adjusted his amp. The band were all black or mixed-race, perhaps Caribbean. There was a guy on drums, one on guitar and a girl on keyboards. They were good-looking and lean, and had a happy, high air about them, radiating stoned bonhomie as they set their levels; two of them with fat joints smoking between their fingers.

“Oh wow,” said Zann audibly, looking up the other girl, who was maybe five-two, slight and stunning and had come to the mic at the front of the stage. She smiled down at us, wearing a guitar over a long, floaty dress that was a riot of colour in a striking pattern. Her hair was a big afro, but soft-looking somehow, and her sparkling eyes were slanted strongly upwards towards the outside of her face.

“Hey,” her rich voice breathed into the mic, “you ready?”

“I think SO,” said Zann, loudly enough for the girl to hear and look, with a smile.

The band launched into their first song and Zann began to dance. I can dance a bit so I joined in, and Leah and Cam too, followed by a girl and guy next to us and a few others. The band played more songs. Leah got more drinks in, then Cam, and the gig developed into a great time. With my rounds I kept sneaking in the vodka-free juices, but Zann was still getting two vodkas out of three, and in any case she doesn’t need to be off her face to start something.

She’d been looking up at the girl more and more steadily, until in a Bruce Springsteen moment the girl stopped playing, came to the edge of the stage and reached a hand down, beckoning. She was too small to pull Zann up but in a second Zann had braced her hands and bounced, and with a boost on her inviting ass from Leah she was up on stage, with everyone looking.

She carried on dancing, and the singer danced with her, still playing the guitar and singing. Zann really can dance, with her natural fluidity, and of course it had to be flirtatious. Up on the stage her dress wasn’t completely hiding her panties. She slid behind the sexy little singer and rubbed her ass against her, then turned and rubbed her front. The singer rubbed back and the audience cheered and clapped.

There was one more number before the end and the band kept Zann up there. She was dancing and flirting briefly with the bass player, then back with the singer again, moving round the stage from one player to the next, then back to the singer who was smiling and nudging back.

They wound up at the end of that song, and Zann, with unexpected modesty, moved to the side of the stage while the band took the applause. The clapping faded away, the singer collected Zann and they disappeared together through a door at the back of the stage.

“Hey,” I called, feebly and too late.

Music started again through the sound system.

“Better get backstage,” said Leah, a bit drunkenly but definitely. Cam and I followed her through a side door and along a corridor towards the front of the building, where evidently former offices were being used as dressing rooms. A roadie in a multicoloured knitted hat was standing outside one.

“Hi, our friend’s inside,” said Leah, making to go past to the door handle.

“Band only, sorry,” he moved to block her.

“Either we go in or she comes out,” Leah’s tone sharpened.

“I’ll ask,” he turned.