Backstage Indecency Read online

  Backstage Indecency

  Mercedes Del Ray

  Copyright © Mercedes Del Ray 2014

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. The names of the main characters and events are products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Cover

  Copyright

  Disclaimer

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter One

  As Helen stepped up to the mike, she wondered how many more gigs her band would play before they had to accept that their sets were just a pub act. If they didn’t get a break soon, the only way forward would be through menial nine to five drudgery. She was luckier than the others. At least, she enjoyed her day job, but trying to make a living teaching guitar, wasn’t what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. She needed to be out there on stage before an audience, watching her perform the music she loved.

  A New York girl with attitude, she stood five-foot eleven in her socks. Helen’s big tits and out there butt, rocked the black leather biker jacket and ripped blue jeans she was wearing. Her long, shaggy black hair with a revealing little white top, and too much makeup completed her intentionally sleazy look.

  She stared defiantly at the audience, as she started belting out some of her own compositions while she tried to see what they were doing. Although most of the standing area was dark, she was aware that she had the full attention of most of the men, and the knowledge that many of them would love to fuck her brains out made her nipples hard.

  The mounting sexual excitement Helen felt, made her work the stage like a bitch on heat. As she sang she strutted up and down. Whipping the crowd as well as herself, into even more of a frenzy. When she started to get so horny that she became wet between the legs, she rubbed the head of her guitar over her denim covered crotch and in between her thighs, as a sea of mobile phones appeared.

  Finally, she threw her jacket down behind her. Most people knew where the set was going because they had seen this from her before – in fact, it was why they were at the gig early. They anticipated her top would come off soon, followed by her bra if it was their lucky night.

  However, just as Helen was thinking about lifting her T-Shirt over her head, one of the organisers held up his hand to indicate that the band’s time on stage was done. As the audience gave a roar of disappointment, she walked over to plead their case for a few more minutes. When she blatantly stuck her tits out at him to try to get what she wanted, he readily agreed, but to her intense frustration insisted that there was a condition attached. This was she kept her clothes on.

  She reluctantly complied as the band did a couple more numbers to finish up, then they left the stage and headed to the bar. As she had a beer with the guys, she recognised some of the usual people hanging out, but many of the regulars from the music industry were gone. Every time they performed, they saw a few less of the A&R men who might have been able to help them in the past. Declining record sales had seen to that.

  To a man standing quietly in the shadows, Helen was the hottest thing he’d ever seen – he’d heard about her band and had decided to come along to the gig and check them out. He knew he could give them something they needed, so the chances were good she would give him the time of day and at least speak to him, even though she could have any man she chose.

  Five-foot five with ginger hair and a baby face, Jack’s apparently boy next door charm belied what was lurking beneath the surface. A determined man who knew what he wanted, and usually got it, one way or another. And right now it was Helen that he knew he just had to have. He couldn’t take his eyes off her world class, totally sexy arse and imagined the things he would like to do to it, if she was bent over naked in front of him. His eyes travelled up her slim, toned body to stop at her large but gravity defying breasts - he tried not to stare at them as he felt his excitement growing. The thought of her shiny pink, slutty and utterly fuckable lips wrapped around his cock made it stiffen, as he imagined screwing her in every possible position until she didn’t know what day of the week it was. As his erection grew harder with every image that flashed through his mind, he was forced to look away until it had subsided.

  When Jack could step forward without a tell-tale bulge in his jeans, he introduced himself to Helen and offered to buy her a beer. She didn’t hear him at first, and he felt his anger rising at being ignored. However, when he spoke to her again she apologised for not answering, saying she hadn’t heard him the first time and accepted a drink from him.

  Although it instantly occurred to her that this little guy was simply trying to hit on her, when he said that he thought The Curves had given the most fantastic, live performance he’d seen in years, she didn’t really pay him much attention. Even when he went on to tell her that he was a former A&R guy turned label boss, she still refused to take him seriously, and tucked his proffered business card in her back pocket saying she would call him soon.

  It was in their van on the way home that Paul the band’s lead guitarist, asked Helen, who the man was she’d been talking to at the bar.

  “The short, ginger guy? He said he used to talent scout, but he told me that now he co-owns a record company. I’m not sure if he is bull shitting or not, but I might call him. I thought he seemed a really nice chap - he was so cute I could put him in my pocket and take him home.”

  As the band members laughed incredulously she commented, “Height isn’t everything, take you lot for example. You’re all over six feet tall, but the three of you are total arseholes when it comes to women and relationships.”

  “Yeah but you never know if he’s bigging himself up or not unless you contact him. Do it for all of us – you don’t have to sleep with him. Just get us more gigs and a deal,” Paul replied as the van pulled up outside Helen’s flat. His reply was enough to remind her that the band’s situation was dire, so once she was inside, she took Jack’s card out of her pocket and put it on her living room table, so she wouldn’t lose it.

  Chapter Two

  It was after eleven when Helen crawled out of bed the next day - she was showered and dressed just in time for her first student’s arrival for his weekly guitar lesson, so it wasn’t until mid-afternoon that she remembered to ring Jack. He picked up his mobile on the second ring as if he was waiting for her call.

  After they had arranged to meet at a pub in Islington that evening, Helen rang round the members of her band to see if any of them would like to come with her. They all claimed to be busy, so she showed up at the appointed time on her own.

  She was casually dressed in checked leggings and a top which was a little too tight, with the same black leather jacket she’d worn at the gig. Thinking that her kinky, high-heeled boots might make Jack feel uncomfortable she’d decided to put on Converse trainers. However, when she saw him at the bar and walked up to him, she got an
immediate vibe. Whether he really was a label boss or a smooth-talking liar, he was after her arse. Big time. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. And he didn’t see the disparity in their heights as a reason not to try for what he wanted.

  However, Helen did – like most women, she liked a taller partner, although her height and preference severely limited her choice of men. She would happily settle for guys the same height or perhaps an inch or two shorter, but a man who she would have to stand in the gutter to kiss? Not a chance! When she’d seen pictures of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes, no way had she been able to work out how they lined everything up in the sack!

  So she started asking which groups Jack had signed up to his label, and how he’d helped further their musical careers. Although she didn’t know the artists, he mentioned, his answers checked out along with the names of the contacts he spoke of. Suddenly, she realised she could have investigated all this before she met him, so she went to the women’s toilet and quickly googled him and the details of his small indie record label, on her iPhone. The Google search results of his name, and a photo confirmed that he was who he said he was.

  Helen hadn’t planned on having sex with Jack, and knew she really shouldn’t. As they talked, she wrestled with her conscience wondering if she would be left with any self-respect, if she slept her way to the fame and fortune, she thought that the rest of the band and herself deserved. But, in the end her ambition triumphed over her pride, when she knew for sure he could give her and the band a lift up the ladder. After all, it would only be happening once or twice, and no one except the two of them needed to know about it, so she decided that she would definitely put out that night. Jack certainly seemed sweet and easy going, and she thought she could get what she needed from him on her terms.

  So when he suggested that she went back to his house in Highgate for ‘coffee’ she readily accepted. As he hailed a cab from Angel, and they headed up the Holloway Road he didn’t really make conversation until they pulled up outside a large Georgian house. However, as they went down the hallway, he finally spoke:

  “When I bought this place it had been shoddily converted into flats and bedsits. It was in a real state – the roof was open and there were squirrels and pigeons living in it. I’m a musician myself, so I’ve spent a lot of money on the house to get it back to its former glory. I’ve converted the basement flat to a soundproofed studio. Do you want to have a look?”

  Of course, Helen wanted to see. The band had been using their various front rooms to jam in, but thanks to the neighbours’ complaints to the local council and their various landlords about the noise in the evenings, their practice times were seriously curtailed. As she looked around the studio area, she really thought that at last her luck had changed – the short guy was going to come up trumps.

  She followed him back upstairs to the kitchen where he started brewing the promised coffee, then went with him into a large sitting room. Once they had sat down she told him that she had studied music at the Adelphi University in New York and talked about her time there. Then they discussed rock music and bands for what seemed like hours as she puzzled over when he was going to make his move. At almost one in the morning, he said, “You’ve got a five-octave vocal range, and you play great rhythm guitar. Your lead guitarist is fantastic, and the other two guys are good too. Do you play any other instruments?”

  When Helen said she and the lead guitarist could both play keyboards, Jack said, “Fantastic! You’re also very good looking, but you know that already don’t you?”

  Helen didn’t know what to say as he moved in on her – all she knew was she had to have sex with him if she wanted a deal for her and the band. And try to pretend to enjoy it if she could. When Jack kissed her for the first time his tongue went in her mouth, as his hand went into her bra, and squeezed and twirled her left nipple up until it was rock hard. As she pretended to be enthusiastic by giving a fake whimper of pleasure, he took her hand and led her upstairs to his bedroom. Then, she fleetingly thought perhaps this guy was not quite as cute and malleable as she’d previously believed.

  Sure enough she was right. She just had time to see that the bedroom was bare of furniture except for a large futon bed with a small bedside table beside it, before he was on her. Pulling her face to his level, he kissed Helen so long and hard, she thought his tongue was going to go down her throat and choke her. She felt her top being hauled off before Jack put his hand down the back of her leggings and squeezed her buttocks, as he kissed her again. Finally, he pushed her on to the bed, unlaced her Converse trainers and pulled them off, then yanked her leggings, panties and socks off as if they were all one garment, and threw them on the floor by the bed.

  If Helen had blinked she would have missed Jack taking his own clothes off, and hardly had time to draw breath before he was on top of her, kissing her roughly as his hands went all over her, exploring every nook and cranny of her body. She hadn’t expected things to move quite so quickly, and stopped them from going any further by asking if he’d got any condoms.

  For the first time, she saw his not so nice side when he said: “Fuck that honey, forget about them. I want to feel my cock inside you with your juices all over it, not some rubber sock”

  Helen was very surprised. As she got up and went through her bag to get the rubbers she always carried with her, she asserted herself by saying, “No balloons, no party! You might look cute, but I’ve no idea what places you’ve been sticking your dick in, and you don’t know where I’ve been either. In our industry everyone’s poking everyone else all over the place, but I won’t take risks. Use a condom you stupid fucker!”

  A familiar red mist started to swirl before Jack’s eyes. All his life he’d been described with the same-old adjectives due to his lack of height, and ‘cute’ was not how he saw himself – he didn’t like being called a “stupid fucker” either. He experienced the familiar feeling of fury he always had when he thought he was being put down for being short and ginger with chubby cheeks. The anger that had nearly led to him getting a record for GBH as a teenager, when a tall guy had cut in on him while queuing to buy a round at a bar. His father had paid the man he’d assaulted off to stop him pressing charges.

  He had never been violent again, and wouldn’t even think of hitting a woman. Now at the age of thirty-six, he’d also learned to control his temper, but the expression on his face frightened Helen as she wondered why he looked so angry. Without saying another word, she began to get dressed, with the intention of leaving.

  Chapter Three

  The prospect of not getting laid made Jack cave in immediately. He correctly imagined that Helen had no shortage of men wanting to bang her brains out all night long, and had just been trying it on for a bareback fuck. Although he was determined to have her, one way or another, that night, he knew that screwing this woman without protection was complete stupidity - like playing Russian Roulette with catching some STD or worse as the payoff. “Okay you’re right, please don’t go” he said, “I’ve got some rubbers here, no problem.”

  Jack’s features returned to the open, friendly expression Helen had seen previously, as she took her panties and bra back off. However, she could see the lust in his eyes when she crawled up the bed like a tiger while he watched her. As she lay back, he rolled on top of her and began kissing her, as his hands resumed touching, stroking and invading her everywhere.

  His intensity and voraciousness shocked Helen as he just kept it coming – the man seemed unstoppable. Despite her initial misgivings about this guy, she started to get really turned on by him as he sucked on her large, dark-brown nipples before running his tongue slowly down over her belly to taste the juices from her leaking cunt. When she experienced the feeling of him licking the sensitive spot between her labia, before moving on to nibble at her clit as he slowly finger fucked her vagina, her moans of pleasure started to be genuine.

  In the back of her mind, she’d had the niggling worry that small height might equate to small dick. On
ce she saw what Jack had on offer, she was relieved to discover she was wrong. Although his erection was probably of average size, his small build made his cock look very big and thick, and she found out soon enough that he really did know how to use it.

  By the time he’d spread her legs out and got them over his shoulders, she couldn’t wait for a good, rough shafting. Jack found entering her saturated pussy was a slick operation, and the condom he’d been made to wear didn’t spoil his enjoyment of socking it to Helen’s wet and willing cunt long and hard. He took his time with her, not caring about the discomfort she might be in – he wanted to show her that he was not the nice, easy going patsy she thought he was, by fucking her until she had trouble walking in a straight line.

  In fact, Helen worked out regularly at the gym and was extremely flexible, with a very strong back. She loved screwing in this position and how deep it enabled Jack to pump into her. She was completely out of control, and even though she could hear herself squealing and moaning she couldn’t stay quiet as he put his hands under her ample buttocks and squeezed them as his thrusts into her became even more vigorous and rough. Finally, she came like a rocket as Jack spurted, and as he let her legs flop down from over his shoulders, she couldn’t understand how she had ever misread this guy so much. He was fantastic in the sack.

  He was unstoppable all night long and fucked her every which way he wanted to, determined to make this great big woman get it that he was as much of a hot-shot lover as any six footer. There was something about her that was different to all the other sluts he’d strung along in the past, with promises of a recording deal and fame. This chick and her band actually had talent. He knew with the right guidance from him, they could make it big.