Zelmas on Tour

This is Part 4 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 the Vix's Licks series, and Parts 1 through 3 of this one before this, to be familiar with the characters and background.

***

Mads and Nena were very touchy-feely over breakfast, and I felt faintly... well, jealous I suppose. It was weird. I had Roo, so I had absolutely no reason to feel jealous of them. I mean, it wasn't like Mads had left me for Nena or something. In fact, it was me that had got them back together, wasn't it? Yet, I had an internal struggle going on, and I didn't understand the feeling at all.

Roo was eating cereal, and chatting away with them perfectly normally, showing no signs of the strange emotions that were afflicting me. She's so strong and unflappable. I decided I just had to wait and see if this disconcerting reaction would settle down over time.

My reverie was interrupted by the sound of a car on the driveway. Strange, I didn't think the other girls were coming today. I got up and went to look out, just in time to see Mum's little Mercedes sports car disappearing out of the gate. I couldn't tell if they were both in the car, or just Mum.

I returned to the breakfast table, and Roo said 'What's up babe? You seem a bit... distracted.'

'Oh nothin. Just a bit hungover I think.'

'Well you did drink a lot of my special wine last night.' She gave me fruity smirk, and Mads and Nena looked a little bemused. I smiled to myself. It's amazing how much fun you can have with a bottle of wine, a couple of glasses and two very wet pussies. God, Roo is so naughty. I love it.

After breakfast, we tidied up the cottage, leaving it in a suitable state for the cleaner, Bev, who was due that day, locked up and walked up to Mads' little red car. Hugs and kisses with her and Nena, then they headed off to Mads' place, and Roo and I went into the house.

Dad was in the kitchen, deep in a phone conversation with (judging by the content) the tour manager, Jens. We were into final preparations now. Departure was only 10 days away, and all the arrangements were falling into place. Organisation of a 23-date tour like this is a mammoth task, hence people like Jens get very well paid to sort it all out, exactly to Dad's liking.

I was very lucky in having my partner with me for the tour, but for most people it would mean almost three months away from their loved ones, though I did know that Mum was planning to fly out a few times during the tour to spend time with Dad. For others, like Jemma, Nikki, and Mads, it was going to be quite a wrench, being separated for so long. I think this is one of the main reasons that some musicians find touring so hard. Not everyone has the option of taking their partner along with them.

As for me, once again I was the lucky bitch, and I was looking forward to it immensely; spending the whole summer travelling through seventeen countries, playing in front of huge audiences, including four festivals. It was a dream trip. My face ached with all the smiling I was doing.

Those basic facts about the tour were exciting enough, but as more details of the arrangements emerged, my excitement reached fever pitch. We would be travelling from gig to gig in two luxury tour buses (no flying) and those buses were amazing. Dad took me out to Kent, where the company was based, to look at them and I was astonished.

They each had a lounge, a kitchen, eight bunks and a bunk above the cab for the driver. Plus (and this was the pièce de resistance) a DOUBLE BEDROOM at the rear. They were extremely luxurious, with full air-con, sumptuous leather sofas, and big-screen TVs. The company called them Star Buses, and I really was starting to feel like a star. Keep yer 'ead, Vix, keep yer 'ead.

Thoughtfully, Dad had designated one The Boy Bus, and the other The Girl Bus. The second one even came with a female driver! We were introduced to both drivers; first Jim, who would drive the boy bus (I shook his hand but took little interest in him to be honest) and then Rhonda, a smiley, friendly Welsh woman, who would drive our bus. She was probably in her thirties, average height and build, with strawberry blonde hair, pulled back into a ponytail, and sparkly eyes. 'I'm looking forward to this one,' she said to me. 'It's not often I get to drive a bus full of just women.' I liked her immediately.

A jolt of excitement went through me like a lightning bolt when Dad mentioned that, as well as we five Zelmas and Rhonda, Lindi would also be travelling with us in The Girl Bus. YAY!

Actually, this was a masterstroke by Dad. A mixed bunch of men and women crammed together in a bus for weeks on end wasn't something I wanted to think about, so there was some relief in finding out about this arrangement. I wasn't sure what the culture in the testo-bus was going to be like but I didn't care. I was looking forward to some good times in ours.

I took a photo of the "Star Bedroom" for Roo, and captioned it 'Our love nest for this summer,' and she replied with a sniggering emoji. This tour was going to be fantastic!

When I got home, I embarked on a massive round of telephone calls to all the girls, telling them excitedly all about the arrangements, the buses etc. They seemed pleased, but obviously weren't quite as enthusiastic as I was. They obviously had misgivings about the separation, the length of time away, and the relentless demands of the itinerary. 23 consecutive gigs, an average of one every three days, was something we had absolutely zero experience of. Well, Roo had toured with The Ting Tings, but that was a much shorter tour. This one promised to be quite gruelling.

I thought about Lindi - and for once not in a sexual way. She had been on a number of tours, so she was a "veteran" in this respect. I decided to phone her to get her take on it.

Surprisingly, she was also a little daunted by the tour, which was apparently the longest The Chootes had ever done. That was something I hadn't realised. She was enthusiastic about the boy bus/girl bus thing though. 'Yeh, I was stoked when Jack told me. It'll be great traveling with you and the girls. Jeez, let me tell you, Vix, I have some grim memories of being the only woman in a tour bus full of men. I wasn't looking forward to repeating those experiences, that's for sure, but travelling with you lot is the perfect solution.' I thought so too.

I say I wasn't thinking about her sexually, but talking to Lindi always stimulates me, and I had a sudden urge... I could have just got myself off lying on my bed, maybe with a toy or two, but I decided to have a shower. Call me weird, but I do love the feeling of wanking in the shower. The running water is so sensual, and the feeling of increasingly oily slipperiness on my fingers as I start to get wet. Mmm.

This wasn't one of those "suddenly horny, fingers get busy in the shower,' kind of wanks. This was deliberate and pre-planned and I love that. The premeditation. The anticipation. It's deliciously wanton and libidinous, and my nipples were already like pencil erasers as I slunk, naked, into my little bathroom.

I put both non-slip rubber mats into the cubicle, turned on the water, then stepped inside. I let the spray of warm water cascade over me for a while, moving so that the individual jets could play across my nipples, then I began to soap myself. I ran my hands sensuously all over my body, slipping my fingers between my lips, spreading and teasing them, and then skirring them lightly across my nipples, which sent tingly shivers through me.

I put a blob of shower gel directly onto my clit, then leaned back on the wall and rolled my finger round and round it, feeling it twitch and subtly swell under my touch. Soon, there was no need for any additional lubrication as my natural flow became bounteous, mingling with the shower water and soap to make a wonderfully lubricious fusion.

My peak was building beautifully, and a filmstrip of sexual images was flitting through my mind. Images of Olivia, of Lindi, of Mads, and of course of Roo. My wonderful sexy, naughty, gorgeous Roo. I was trembling with intense arousal as I took the shower head from the wall and turned it to its narrowest and most intense spray. Then, I placed it on the floor of the cubicle, pointing upwards, and knelt over it. Holding it still with one hand and parting my lips with the other, I spread my knees further and further apart, bringing my clit closer and closer to the exquisite and powerful stimulation of the spray.

I came in seconds, my breath catching in my throat as the climax ripped through me. It was so intense, I struggled to stay in place, but I did so, determined to prolong these waves of immense pleasure that were sweeping through my core.

As the orgasmic tremors and jerky spasms subsided, I struggled to my feet and rinsed myself off, but then I decided to go for seconds...

I sat in the corner of the cubicle, legs, akimbo and feet pressing the glass walls each side of me, and I played the shower on my now amazingly sensitive pussy. I held it there until another O was rushing up, then took it away. I let the stimulation subside, then brought the shower there again until I could feel the rushing climax hurtling up on me, then took it away again. I was flirting exquisitely with the very brink of coming, stopping just in time, and I repeated it over and over, 'ah, ah, ah,' four or five times until my bum was clenching and spasming and my whole vulva was a mass of raging nerve-endings, screaming for the climax.

I was sobbing and gasping... and revelling in this wonderfully awful torture. When I finally took myself over the edge, my legs flailed, feet thrashing the edge of the shower tray, and my head bumped repeatedly on the wall, but I was oblivious to any pain. I was an expanding bubble of pleasure, engulfing me and everything around me. For a few exquisite seconds, the whole world revolved around my clitoris. It was divine. A fireball of orgasmic bliss.

I don't know how long I sat there, semi insensible, with the shower spraying against my leg, but I eventually stood up, shakily, and gave myself a final rinse, then stepped out into the warm embrace of giant fluffy bath towel. 'Fuck,' I thought to myself, 'that was amazing.' It was so good, I almost phoned Roo, just to tell her about it.

***

Five days to departure. For a while, I'd been thinking about a band logo and I suddenly decided to do something about it. The Chootes obviously had one (or more than one, actually) which appeared on the website, merchandise etc, and I'd been thinking we should have one too. My doodlings had come up with an image based on Mads' eye-popping black leather bodice, with a bright pink letter 'Z' on the front, and "The Zelmas" written along the diagonal.

I thought it was bold, eye-catching, and subtly sexy, and I showed it to the girls, who all thought it was great. Mads was flattered that I'd chosen an iconic part of her image to front the band, but it wasn't a difficult choice; despite the attractions of the rest of us, Mads is definitely our most imposing stage presence. And that bodice. Wow.

I showed it to Dad, and he smirked and raised his eyebrows, but basically approved it. Getting his approval for my next idea was more difficult though. I wanted to get big vinyl stickers of both band logos made, and put them on the backs of the tour buses, but he was definitely not enthusiastic about that. He's always tended to travel in a more incognito fashion, so he wasn't enthused about having our band names emblazoned on the buses for all to see.

Mum came in when we were discussing it. 'What's up.' I showed her the logo. 'Oo, sexy,' she smiled. 'I love it.'

I explained my idea for the buses, and Dad said. 'We've no need to advertise when we're out on the road. I don't think it's a good idea.'

'Ahh, c'mon Jack. Let her have her fun. Nothin bad will happen.'

Dad was beleaguered now. He had both of us to contend with, and he retreated behind 'Bus company might not allow it.'

'Well, ask them,' said Mum. 'Better still, I'll ask them.'

She phoned them there and then and it was clear they had no issues with it, so Dad had to reluctantly agree. 'OK,' he sighed, a little sulkily. The women had ganged up on him and got our way. Unusual really, cos it's usually men who have a liking for flamboyance and showing off.

I immediately started searching for a vinyl sign-making company, and actually found one within a mile of the bus company's HQ. I sent them the designs and they not only made the decals, very quickly, but even went out and installed them too. The lad who did the job was a huge Chootes fan, and he was thrilled to talk to me on the phone and send me photos of the finished job. He even asked me out for a drink, which I thought was sweet and brave of him, but I had to disappoint, which was almost a shame. He seemed a nice guy.

Next day, Joe came to the house with the crew's plan for Dad's approval, and they sat at the kitchen table and poured over it for more than an hour. It was a logistical marvel, involving a smaller tour bus of their own, and two 7.5 tonne trucks, and it involved lots of forward planning and leap-frogging. I glanced at it but it fogged my brain and I had to go and have a lie down. The Chootes' show is not a Pink Floyd style, or even a Taylor Swift style, extravaganza, but there's still a bewildering amount of stuff to cart about and set up. I was glad I had the easy job of just getting up on stage and playing a few songs.

***

Two days to departure, and Dad introduced me to another travelling companion. This was Lucy, who was to be our travelling assistant and general Ms Fixit. In fact, our fixer, if you like, with the job of 'magically making all your problems disappear,' as she said with a smirk. Dad really had thought of everything.

She was a tall, slender, almost spindly, middle-aged woman, with frizzy blonde hair, worn in bunches, very energetic and intense, with an air of efficiency about her, and a broad northern accent I couldn't identify. I learned later that she was from Cumbria, in the far northwest of England. So, that would make eight of us travelling in the girl bus. I only hoped we'd all get along.

***

Departure day. Mildly scary. We all gathered at the Maidstone headquarters of the bus company, stood and admired the decals (even Dad looked pleased with them) and then spent a long time loading all our chattels aboard. The crew convoy had departed earlier with all our instruments and most of our gig clothing, so we only had personal stuff, but when you're going away for ten weeks, that's a lot of stuff.

Interestingly, Jemma was the only one of us who had brought an instrument. She had her old acoustic with her, and when I commented on it she said, 'Oh I have to have it. I can't go a day without feeling frets under me fingers.' I guess that's one of the reasons she's so good. She's a guitar addict.

I introduced the girls to Rhonda and Lucy, and showed them the interior of our bus. Nikki's face was a picture; I don't think she'd ever seen anything like it. There was definitely a bit of (good-natured) envy over the "Star Bedroom," since the rest of the beds were bunks arranged along the mid section of the bus, with curtains as the only semblance of privacy. We were certainly going to get to know each other better on this trip.

All packed and ready, we rolled out of Maidstone, and headed for the Dover ferry port. The Zelmas were on the road!

We disembarked at Dunkerque, and headed for our first gig venue, the Effenaar in Eindhoven, Holland, only a short 3 hour hop from the boat. Some of the road legs of the trip would be more than one day, and some would involve overnight drives, but this was an easy start; the gig wasn't until the next night and the bus would be parked up near the venue, like a little mobile hotel.

Travelling in the bus was great. Immediately behind the cab was an area with seats and tables, a bit like those on a train, which could seat eight, and which could be used for dining. The seats were equipped with belts for travelling, so we could all sit there and chat with Rhonda as we went along. And she was very chatty.

Immediately behind these seats were the kitchen and bathroom, one each side, then the bunk section, followed by the lounge then, right at the back, the double bedroom. The only downside with this layout was that if Roo or I needed a pee in the middle of the night we had to walk almost the full length of the bus but, with no men aboard, we all soon got used to walking about with very little on without any shyness. Honestly, the interior of that bus would be a wet dream for many men, sometimes, with half-naked women wandering about, or lounging on sofas, and I had no complaints about it, either.

We arrived in Eindhoven with time to kill, and we immediately hit the city centre. That is, we five Zelmas plus Lindi. We weren't joined by Lucy and Rhonda; they stayed with the bus. It only occurred to me once we were in town that we could have invited them. Note to self: Do it next time.

It's a lively town, Eindhoven, with lots of bars and coffee shops and we ranged about, looking for space cake, the Dutch speciality made with cannabis butter. Mads had decided this was first order of business, so the rest of us just went along. It wasn't difficult to find, and we all ate a huge piece, and drank some of the best coffee I've ever had.

The space cake was interesting. The coffee shop owner, who spoke perfect, English, as Dutch people always seem to, said there are many variations, but this one was strong, spicy, and slightly boozy. I liked it, but didn't feel any immediate effects from it. The others didn't either, so we continued on and explored a couple of bars. We had no idea whether we should drink alcohol after the space cake but we felt fine so we went ahead and had a couple of Grolsch's each.

It was perhaps a couple of hours later when we all started feeling very inebriated indeed, and there was no resistance when Jemma suggested going 'home' to the bus. We walked there feeling more and more "spacy," and we tried, unsuccessfully, to creep in quietly to avoid disturbing Lucy and Rhonda, who we assumed were asleep.

As we made our way through to the lounge, shushing each other and giggling, and probably making more noise in the process, Lucy peered out from her bunk and said 'Space cake, was it?'

I think this was where the 'hanging around the bus unclothed' all started, as Mads began shedding garments, saying 'Phew, it's hot in here,' until she was sprawled on a sofa in just her bra and jeans. It was a pretty alluring look actually, especially since her white cotton panties were peeping over the top of her studded belt. Ooo, I wanted to undo it and get a proper look.

We were all feeling exceptionally mellow now, and we lounged about in a variety of dishevelled attitudes, conversing in short sentences, with long gaps in between, until bed called us magnetically and, one by one, we retired.

Roo and I secluded ourselves in our little love nest, tired, yawning, and intending to just go to sleep, but as I watched her carelessly strip and fling her clothes and undies all over the place, as she does, I was overcome with an extraordinarily powerful wave of passion for her. As she began to get under the covers, I crawled up and flung them back, exposing her gorgeous, glorious nakedness, I kissed her, long and deep, and despite her sleepiness she responded. She always responds to me. Never rejects me. Never 'has a headache.' Is never 'too tired.' Her love is boundless, and I'm sometimes unsure whether I'm worthy.

That night, everything about her was especially wonderful; the form and feel of her breasts, the beautiful crinkles of her areolae, the rude eagerness of her nipples, the perfect contours of her ribs and stomach, the silken softness of her pubes, and the glorious, slippery wetness of her pussy. Wet for ME!