Beautiful Music (Box Set)

Beautiful Music (Box Set)

Faith Talbot

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2021 Faith Talbot

BIN: 06908-02225

Second Edition

Formats Available:

Adobe PDF, Epub

Mobi/PRC

Publisher:

Changeling Press LLC

315 N. Centre St.

Martinsburg, WV 25404

www.ChangelingPress.com

Editor: Maryam Salim

Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Adult Sexual Content

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Table of Contents

Beautiful Music (Box Set)

Daze on End

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Interlude in C

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Finding the Chords

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Colour Haze

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Three Weeks Later

Faith Talbot

Beautiful Music (Box Set)

Faith Talbot

When Kayla gets an extra ticket to a rock concert from her assistant, she never dreams she’ll be hooking up with the far younger lead singer before the show. It’s a great one-night stand -- until the bass player, Erik, calls her a few nights later. Jason is sick, and only Kayla can help him.

Jason and Erik of Daze on End have navigated a strange, energy-based sexual puzzle their whole lives. When Kayla enters their lives, some of the answers begin to fall into place as the three of them find themselves on an erotic journey that will change all their lives.

Daze on End

Faith Talbot

When Kayla gets an extra ticket to a rock concert from her assistant, she never dreams she’ll be hooking up with the far younger lead singer before the show. It’s a great one-night stand -- until the bass player, Erik, calls her a few nights later. Jason is sick, and only Kayla can help him.

Jason and Erik of Daze on End have navigated a strange, energy-based sexual puzzle their whole lives. When Kayla enters their lives, some of the answers begin to fall into place as the three of them find themselves beginning an erotic journey that will change all their lives.

Chapter One

He was rangy and lean, with shaggy dark blond hair, and shoulders a little too wide for the rest of him. It was the kind of body so many men don’t grow into until their mid-thirties, Kayla thought. A good body. He had a few more years of muscle-building to go.

His cock tasted like salt and iron.

He had his back up against the wall, his mouth slack, gray eyes glazed as his orgasm trembled its way into his hips. She curled her fingers around the base of his dick to hold him off, and he moaned a protest. She grinned, mouth stretching around his shaft.

It wasn’t the best place for a blowjob. She wasn’t even sure where they were -- she’d just followed him when he led the way. It wasn’t the bathrooms and it wasn’t backstage, but it was somewhere between the bar and the place where the band would be preparing for their performance in a few minutes. She didn’t really care. She had a mouth full of cock, the smell of his musk tickling her nose, the taut skin of his belly trembling under her fingers. It’s all good.

She hadn’t really meant to pick him up. In fact, she still wasn’t sure if she’d picked him up or he’d picked her up. It was hard to tell sometimes, when you met each other’s eyes across a bar and that lightning-fast fuck me shot across the room between you. She bought him a drink, he came to her table; the courtship lasted perhaps fifteen minutes and ended with her on her knees.

She curled her fingers around his scrotum, feeling his balls draw up. A careful squeeze stopped him, and his sharp sound of protest sounded almost like pain. She couldn’t help laughing at him. She knew how to do these things. She had the experience he was too young to have accumulated. Far too young.

Her chuckle made his hand tighten in her hair. Don’t hold me off, baby. I have to go on in fifteen minutes. His tone was easy and amused. No anger in it at all. She had to give him credit there, since she’d strangled his orgasm twice now.

Go on. She wondered at the statement, but not for long. He pushed his cock into her mouth, pressing against the back of her throat. Not hard, just a little demanding. She decided she liked him. She swallowed with the head of his cock pressed against the very back of her mouth, and he gave an appreciative hum. His hips tilted back a little and his fingers tightened in her hair. She knew this was his signal that she should pull back or swallow a good mouthful of jizz. Kayla opted to swallow.

Above her, she heard his gasp, ecstasy threaded with surprise, maybe a little gratitude. I do like him. I really do.

His hips bucked, his back arching against the wall behind him. His fingers clenched in Kayla’s hair, then relaxed until he was combing through it instead of holding on.

She drew back, licked the full length of his shaft, the sleek, trembling head. He flinched back, wincing and laughing at the same time. Kayla tucked him neatly back in and refastened his fly, then kissed the layer of denim on top of the zipper. His hand came down to her shoulder, and his gentle touch drew her to her feet.

He was at least six inches taller than she was. He didn’t just dip his head to kiss her -- he lowered his whole body, bent knees, bowed spine, like he was surrendering all of himself into her space.

His mouth was generously shaped, and he knew what to do with it. She craved it suddenly, wanted it between her thighs. Not here, though. If this was a bad place for fellatio, it was an even worse place for cunnilingus.

He was probably about to leave, anyway, if he had to go on. It sounded like he must be with the opening band. Kayla had had no idea.

He took his time kissing her, though, behaving not at all like someone who needed to be somewhere else in ten minutes. His hand lifted to cup the back of her head and he angled her a little, giving himself better access to her mouth. She opened beneath him. She only knew she was about to moan when she felt the vibration in the back of her throat. He chuckled at the sound and stroked her tongue with his. He tasted… like beer and like man, maybe vaguely of weed. It wasn’t the most appetizing combination, but it was arousing. Ridiculously so.

Kayla knew he was going to leave any minute -- this was probably the good-bye smooch. The kiss-off, as it were, but oh, it was a good one. She knew this, but she still wanted… more than he had time to give her.

It was the want, the need, that made her hand press down between her own legs, where her cunt felt too big for the space allotted for it there. And wet. Slick. So wet it felt like her body could slide in half, like he could press fingers, hand, his entire arm inside her and meet no resistance.

The heel of her hand pressed between her legs, into that heat burning through her jeans, and brushed against another hand on its way to the same place. Surprised, she opened her eyes and drew her head back. He was looking at her with mischief in his gray eyes. A thick shock of messy blond hair nearly obscured them. She had a sudden urge to brush it back.

You have to go on, she said, barely hearing herself. Her ears were buzzing, her whole body an aching throb longing for release.

He grinned. His fingers -- long, slim, a musician’s fingers, and how could she have missed that? -- brushed hers aside and he slid his hand down the front of her jeans. No unbuttoning, no unzipping -- just his hand down past the fly and inside her panties. It was a bit tight in there for him to maneuver, but he managed it, and his fingertips slid unerringly onto her clit. She flinched, and he chuckled.

So wet, he muttered. So fucking wet.

She grabbed his head and dragged his mouth back down to hers. Suddenly she didn’t want him looking at her. It was one thing when she had his dick in her mouth, and he was too blinded by lust to see through the shadows. To figure out she was a long way away from having been in his graduating class.

He devoured her mouth while his thumb rolled against her clit and long, clever fingers slid down and inside her. He pressed hard, pressed in, and she couldn’t help it. She fell apart as a shower of sparks broke behind her eyelids. The sounds she made were ridiculous, but he swallowed them down, sucking her tongue into his mouth.

When he drew back, he was laughing. See? The smugness in his voice was almost enough to make her want to smack him. Almost. That didn’t take long at all.

You’re horrible, she told him.

He kissed her again, soundly. Seems to me, I’m pretty damn good.

There was a moment. A strange moment, somehow. Not the kind of moment she expected from a one-time near-fuck up against a wall somewhere between the bar and the stage. He smiled, and there was an unexpected softness in his eyes. Watch the show, he said. I can put you right down in front.

She knew there had been teenage girls lined up outside for hours for the privilege of standing at the barricade. They wouldn’t be happy.

Fuck ’em. They were probably here for the headliner, anyway.

She nodded. He took her hand and started to head down the hall toward the stage.

Wait, Kayla said suddenly. He stopped, turned back to look at her. What’s your name?

Jason, he said with a wry grin.

Kayla.

The grin turned wicked. Nice to meet you.

And he put his fingers in his mouth -- the fingers he’d just had inside her panties, inside her. They slid out with a soft pop. Let’s go.

* * *

It had been a long time since she’d stood at the barricade. Twenty years, probably. Since you were his age, a traitorous corner of her mind whispered. She told it to shut up. She didn’t quite have twenty years on him. Sixteen, maybe. Eighteen, tops.

The girls already in prime position weren’t happy. Brent, whom Jason had introduced as the tour manager, made it clear they’d at the very least lose their spots, at the worst be thrown out, if they didn’t cooperate. They relented. Kayla could feel their pissy glares like laser beams between her shoulder blades.

Kayla had never felt so smug in her life. She tried not to snigger. And failed in the end, when Brent brought her a drink. He winked at her and slipped away to put bottles of water on the stage.

The band was called Daze on End. She remembered seeing the name on the ticket when Linda had handed it to her after work tonight, but hadn’t recognized it. She tried to keep somewhat abreast of the local music scene, but these guys were from Indianapolis, not Chicago. The girls behind her were snarking -- they wanted to see the headliner. Kayla stood and sipped her rum and Coke -- how had he known? -- and waited.

The lights went down. A tingle of anticipation swooped through her stomach. Anticipation, fear -- and arousal.

A single light came back up and he was there, haloed in gold. His head tipped up, exposing his throat to the light. His eyes were closed. The guitar cradled against his body seemed almost a part of him.

Kayla drew in a quick breath, mesmerized. The darkening tingle between her legs went deeper.

The guitar rose first, a delicate, deliberately uneven arpeggio in a minor key. The sound was layered, and shifted a bit just before his voice joined it -- she saw him touch a pedal with his foot to alter the effects.

His voice -- God, his voice. It was honey and whiskey and musk, similar to but at the same time utterly different from the voice that had whispered need into her ear.

God, but he was beautiful.

The light expanded to reveal the rest of the band. There were two other young men, but she could see nothing but him.

As the music ratcheted up, his voice became a driving thing, not quite strident, but commanding. She vaguely noted the words, but they were secondary. Right now it was only the voice, the lithe, contained movement of his body. His hips pumped against the back of the Telecaster as if he were fucking it.

The heat poured through her. She could feel arousal everywhere -- cunt, ass, the backs of her knees, the tips of her fingers. The back of her tongue. It tasted like salt and metal.

And then he looked at her. Straight at her, as if there were no one else in the entire room. She knew it wasn’t a trick of her eyes or wishful thinking. There was enough light cast down on the pit behind the barricade that she knew he could truly see her.

He smiled. Her body pulsed, and for a moment she thought she would slide sideways into an orgasm from the touch of his gaze alone. Then he looked away, not dismissively, but naturally, because he had to, because he had a show to put on.

It was almost as if he had touched her. She could still feel the contact on her face.

She must have been staring at him with everything she was feeling in her eyes, because, as the song died down, she heard a voice behind her.

Jesus, look at her.

I know, replied another voice. Young girls, strident and judgmental in the way only teens and just post-teens could be. Too young to understand much of anything. That’s so gross. God, she’s old enough to be my mom.

Kayla only smiled. Because, after all, she already knew what his dick tasted like.

* * *

While Jason sang, Erik watched. He always watched Jason, kept track of him, but tonight he was watching more closely than ever.

He had felt the shift when Jason had connected with the woman in the bar. Not when they’d nearly fucked in the hallway, but before. He was used to sensing the ebb and flow when Jason was having sex, but feeling that tug at the base of his spine when there’d been no more than eye contact -- that was new.

He and Jason knew far too little about what they really were and what their strange bond meant. He’d had his suspicions for a time that an added third might be inevitable, or even necessary, especially as the flow between himself and Jason had become harder to maintain. While this odd blip on Erik’s radar didn’t necessarily mean a confirmation of his theory, he was certain it meant something.

Watching Jason on stage, the way his attention kept moving back to the woman, only added to his suspicions. He’d have to keep an eye on things. Jason, as much as Erik loved him, would probably miss most of the signals until they smacked him in the face. Jason was just kind of oblivious that way.

He smiled a little to himself. Yes, he did love Jason, in all his faily glory. Looking up, he caught Jason’s nod, the signal for the next song. Erik eased the heavy Fender bass back along his hip and launched into the intro.

* * *

By the time he played the last chord of the last song, Jason was so hard he thought he was going to break open with it. He’d never felt anything like this before, not since he and Erik had finally worked out their strange, symbiotic bond.

He knew what he shared with Erik wasn’t normal. He didn’t spend all his life oblivious to what went on around him, and he knew that, while some people said they would die without sex, it wasn’t literally true. For Erik, though, it was. With the added complication that he could only have sex with Jason.

And now Kayla presented another wrinkle. Because his hard, needy cock, straining behind his fly, wasn’t begging for any willing groupie to fuck him or suck him. It just wanted Kayla. Wanted to be inside her, as far as he could get.

He’d seen Erik watching him during the show, knew something was distressing or just intriguing the other man, but he didn’t have time to stop and ask him about it. Not now, when every molecule in him only wanted to find its way to Kayla.

Something of the need, the hurting, must have shown in his face, because as he set his guitar in the stand, Brent appeared from nowhere, giving him a look.

Dude, you okay?

Jason nodded. Yeah. Fine.

Brent nodded back, his lips pressed together. You have anybody in mind?

Jason focused on him then, and realized Brent meant to sort out some young blonde groupie to bring backstage. He’d done it before. Though Brent wasn’t privy to all the details of Jason’s odd, intense, and necessarily promiscuous sex life -- no one was but Erik -- he did know how things usually went after the show.

But this time Jason shook his head. I’ll take care of it, he said bluntly.

Brent just nodded and went about his usual business of clearing the equipment from the stage, while Jason stepped down into the dispersing crowd to find Kayla.

* * *

Kayla stayed where she was by the barricade, biding her time. She’d found a tiny niche in the crowd and was letting the others -- mostly teen and tween girls -- move around her. Some were headed to buy merch or drinks before the headliner came on, or taking the opportunity to run to the ladies’ room.

Kayla was ready to leave so far as the show was concerned. Music-wise, she’d seen what she wanted to see. In spite of the girls hanging on the barricade laughing and shrieking in anticipation of the next band, she had no desire to see them. The only reason she was still here, and she wasn’t too proud to admit it, was the vague hope that Brent might come to fetch her back to Jason.

Brent didn’t come. But one moment she was standing quietly in her small corner and the next moment a hand cupped her shoulder. She almost jumped, but didn’t -- somehow the sense of who had touched her reached her consciousness before her body could respond with startlement.

She turned. He stood behind her. His dark blond hair was mussed and sweaty, straggling down over his forehead, into his eyes. The gray eyes, their color clear as water in the club lights, which had been turned up after the encore, were heavy with what she immediately recognized as need.

Come with me? The query in his voice drowned in the slight crack of desperation. He held out his hand, and she took it without pause or consideration. There was no need for a spoken answer. He pushed the security barriers open and, while the young girls behind her gaped and made derisive noises, half-guided, half-lifted her to the other side.

Everything blurred around her. She could smell him, the sharp, metallic tang of sweat, the muskiness of male skin. The taste of him sprang suddenly to her mouth, filling it. Her tongue felt as heavy as her cunt, weeping with need.

Where? she asked, almost as if it mattered.

Backstage? His tone was hesitant. Not exactly romantic, she thought, but better than up against the wall. There’s a couch, he added, not only hesitant now but apologetic. And, um, they will have cleared out by now.

As long as you’re naked, I don’t really care. She felt brazen and beautiful. His answering grin made her heart thud even harder. For a moment she wondered if any of this was really happening. But it was.

The backstage room was empty, which relieved her. She didn’t know if she would have been mortified if