The Sirens of Catalunya

Author's Note:

I've split this novel into four sections for publication here. If you haven't read parts 1 & 2, I strongly suggest doing so before proceeding. All sensuality (on page or otherwise) takes place between characters who are eighteen or older.

Twenty-Two

"What was that?" Izzy muttered worriedly, interrupting a lengthy debate between his companions about whether progressive rock should be classified as rock, or forced into its own distinct genre.

"I was just saying that concept albums aren't necessarily limited to prog rock." Sofi replied reasonably.

He shook his head. "I meant why did the engine catch." He then felt the engine power dip once more. "See! It did it again."

"Are we out of gas?" Liv asked from the back seat.

He double-checked the gage. "Nope. Two-thirds full. And we've got no warning lights."

"Do you think we should pull over?"

"Maybe. Although, I'll warn you, I'm the shame of males everywhere with my complete lack of automotive acumen."

Ali raised her hand like a primary schooler with a question, and declared, "I can state with absolute confidence that you are more male than every petrol head in the world combined."

"So jealous," Sofi grumbled.

"Soon the wonder that is Izzy's cock will you know," Ali rasped in a reasonable approximation of a diminutive space wizard.

Sofi's response was interrupted by another, more noticeable, catch from the engine followed by an eerie silence.

"Oh, no," Liv murmured worriedly. "Not again."

"At least we're on the ground already," Izzy observed as he pulled off the state highway onto an empty side street.

They had been travelling through the mountains of western Virginia since leaving their hotel an hour prior. The roads they travelled offered unlimited access, with frequent side streets being heralded by endless signs alongside the road, but they were still unquestionably highways which permitted speeds in excess of one-hundred kilometers per hour. Izzy found a small side-street which appeared to be an abandoned single-family home development and put the large sedan in park.

For want of a better strategy, he pulled the bonnet release and climbed from the car. His companions soon joined him to gaze upon the mystery that was the engine bay. Izzy started touching random cables but found nothing which seemed to be disconnected. Liv located the fuse box and also seemed to find nothing amiss.

"How far have we gone since we bought this thing?" Sofi asked suddenly.

"I'm not sure," Izzy replied as he experimented with one of the dipsticks.

"Hang on," Sofi grunted before he heard the door to the car open. She returned a moment later holding the paperwork from the sale of the car. "This delightful chariot has a six-liter engine. According to the owner's manual, it gets a bit over eight kilometers per liter and has a seventy-liter tank. If the engine was brimmed, we'd have been good for about five-hundred-and-fifty kilometers. We've only gone about two-fifty, but does anyone think they actually topped off the tank when we bought this thing?"

Izzy shook his head. "No way." He sighed and added, "I can't believe I was so stupid. That dumb gage has had the same reading for two days and I didn't notice anything amiss."

"Come on, Izzy," Ali chided. "You almost never drive anymore. None of us do. We go everywhere in buses or hired cars. In any case, none of us noticed anything wrong either."

He pulled his phone out and glanced at it briefly before muttering, "And of course there's no service here." He shook his head woefully before adding, "I guess I'm walking. That last town we passed wasn't too far back."

"We'll come with you!" Liv announced.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Izzy retorted. "You three are just too recognizable. It's not hot out today and this place is sufficiently remote. You all can just stay here and lock the doors. I'll be back in no time."

"Are you nuts?" Sofi yelped. "We're not letting you go by yourself. What if something happens? We should practice the buddy system."

He snickered. "What are you proposing?"

"I'll go with you. That way I can carry you to safety if something goes wrong."

Ali guffawed. "I'd pay to see that."

Sofi whirled to face her and snapped, "You! Shut up. You already got yours. I'm not letting him out of my sight until I've gotten mine."

"What if I have to hit the head?" Izzy quipped.

"Then you'll have help" Sofi retorted firmly. "With that gentleman's sausage you're packing, it's little wonder you don't injure yourself daily just trying to wrangle it." This earned her a laugh from her companions, but her face remained earnest. "I'm serious Izzy. If you intend to walk to civilization, then I'm coming with you." She gestured at her companions and added, "They can stay here and guard the car."

He looked to the two taller women questioningly, prompting Liv to say, "Go ahead. We'll be here when you return."

Izzy took a moment to grab a knapsack out of the trunk, and toss in a few water bottles and snacks to go with a Sofi-sized hoodie, before they set off. He set a deliberately sedate pace in deference to her smaller stature. She quickly started to outpace him, forcing him to accelerate to a more typical walking pace.

After several moments of silence, she murmured, "I'm not a child, Izzy."

He looked at her in confusion. "I know that."

"Do you? I'm only seven months younger than Ali. As for the hobbit thing, I'm the same number of centimeters shorter than Liv."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because sometimes I'm not sure if you see me as a woman, as opposed to a girl."

He frowned in frustration and thought for a moment before saying, "There is a world of difference between doing something for you because I care about you and doing that same thing because I think you're incapable of doing it yourself. Being a gentleman isn't about reinforcing the patriarchy, it's about showing all of you how special you are to me." She made no response for several long moments, prompting Izzy to add, "Ali told me one of the reasons she and I..."

"Had the greatest evening of her life and gave her permanent bragging rights?"

He sighed before continuing, "Indeed. She said the reason she was nominated is because you all thought I might be concerned about... um... making love to you."

"Are you?" she asked primly.

"It's not inconceivable that I could potentially hurt you, honey. And not just you. I outweigh any one of you by a significant margin."

"You think I care?" she barked angrily. "Do you honestly think there's anywhere in the world I'd rather be than between you and a comfy mattress? The thought of your sweet body covering me fills me with both yearning and serenity. Not dread."

"Spoken like a generationally talented lyricist."

"Don't change the subject," she snapped.

"I don't think you're too little for me, honey," he groaned. "You're perfect."

"Then why are you refusing me?"

He threw his arms up out of sheer frustration. "I'm not! I never said anything of the sort. It was you three who decided to try to engineer things based on assumptions you made about my fears and motivations."

She fell silent for several minutes. As they walked, his peripheral vision reported several instances of her glancing in his direction. But every time he looked her way, she was pointedly looking straight ahead. He felt the repeated instinct to say something to alleviate the awkwardness, but nothing felt sincere. He was thus left with no choice but to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

At long last, she broke the silence with a tangent, "Why do you always refer to me as a lyricist?"

He looked down at her. "Is there another term you'd prefer?"

"I'm more than just a chick that writes words that rhyme."

He came to a stop and stared at her in wonder. After several deep breaths, he managed to stammer, "I know that. Of course I know that. You are a million incredible things, and only a few of them have anything to do with your music. The fact that you're one of the best drummers, and best singers, and best lyricists, I've ever even heard of, is only part of the amazing person you are."

She pouted up at him and whispered, "You really don't think I'm too little?"

"Hell no!" he insisted angrily.

She snuggled up against him and sighed in contentment when he wrapped his arm around her. They walked in silence for several moments and quickly found how they fit together despite her significantly shorter stride.

After a comfortable pause, Izzy said, "You really think progressive rock is superior to, say, grunge. Or British Invasion punk?"

"Don't get me wrong. I'm a huge fan of punk music. Just not for the lyrics. That's the trouble with most of what's called rock on the mainstream charts. It's all about such uninteresting drivel. Songs about getting laid or getting paid just can't move the needle for me."

Izzy nodded. "Agreed. Although, as you said, there are exceptions. I think most lyricists just can't tap into the soul. And most of those that can, either can't write complimentary music, or weren't lucky enough to be paired with someone like Liv. That's why I knew immediately how special you guys are. Song writing is a mystical incantation that, in my opinion, can't be taught. You've either got it or you don't. Hell, Roger Waters only writes about three things: his parents; the war; and Syd Barrett going insane. And he wrote some of the best songs of all time. Every Layne Stanley song is about the drug addiction which would eventually kill him, but they're incredible. You don't have to be like Neil Peart, writing about Ayn Randian dystopian futures being saved by the discovery of a guitar, to be a great songwriter. Your songHow Could Youbrings tears to my eyes every time I hear it."

"Same," she replied softly.

"So," he prompted playfully. "Does all this lively debate mean you're considering writing a concept album?"

"Thinking about it," she confirmed teasingly. "But Liv is freaking out about it. She's worried we can't draw the whole album together thematically."

"It's a daunting task. Especially for someone with no training in composition."

"I know," she sighed. "She's such an instinctive song writer, but she can't ever admit it. She does things without knowing the science or theory behind why they work. It just sounds right to her, and it's amazing."

He smiled. "Perhaps we could make use of a silent partner for the next album. I happen to know someone with a masters in music composition."

Sofi shook her head. "I'd rather toss this whole album in the bin than risk messing up our dynamic by bringing someone else into our inner circle."

He snickered before responding, "And who makes up this vaunted inner circle?"

She looked at him quizzically before saying, "Well, the three of us... and you... and that's it. I know so many historic bands collaborated with..."

"Sofija?" he interrupted gently, causing her to fall silent and look up at him expectantly. "Do you honestly think I spent the decade during which I ran that shitty recording studio just mindlessly booking one doomed band after another?"

She shook her head somberly. "I always figured you were sitting in with most of them. I mean, they'd be crazy to not want to use you. You're incredible."

"None of those bands could have cared less. They were all irretrievably convinced as to their own greatness. No, I spent the time a bit more productively. Most bands want to work late, so I took classes in the morning. It started off as something to fill up my time, but it quickly turned into something I was genuinely intrigued by."

"Did you write anything during your studies?"

He smiled. "Tons of stuff. But none of it is worth a damn. My gift, if you could call it that, isn't composing. Oh, don't get me wrong. I can improvise a decent enough guitar solo, but that's not the same thing. I'm like the kid who grew up obsessing about movies, then went to film school, then spent a decade making trash student movies; only to ultimately give up and go into editing to make enough money to buy groceries and discover, to their complete amazement, that they have a genuine gift for it. Not everyone was destined to be in the limelight, but there's serenity in discovering that your place in life is to support those that change the world."

"I'm not sure our music rises to that level, babe. And saying you support us feels so hollow when compared to how much you actually do."

He shrugged. "Like I said. We each have our role to play."

"Perhaps?" she countered playfully. "But that all changes now. Because your name is going on our next album."

"I was on the last three," he replied, referring to the acknowledgements section printed in tiny font at the end of the liner notes."

"But not as a producer, and writer, and feature soloist."

"Honey," he complained. "That's too much. It's not self-deprecation, or whatever you want to call it, when I say thatallI want is for you three to know every bit of success you deserve. You don't have to elevate me to make me feel appreciated."

"Izzy!" she snapped angrily. "I'm not suggesting we prop you up out of some misguided sense of altruism. I'm saying you'refarbetter qualified to do all those things than anyone else we could hire. This isn't charity, this is us asking for your help."

Another long silence stretched between them before Izzy finally murmured, "Thank you."

"You're welcome!" she yelled in obvious frustration.

He smiled at her. "Are we arguing right now?"

"No!"

"I see," he replied with a chuckle. He then noticed something ahead of them and huffed, "Well, would you look at that?"

"What?" Sofi asked softly.

He gestured toward what was unquestionablytheirsedan slowing and pulling off onto the emergency lane as it approached them.

Twenty-Three

"Um... did one of you secretly learn to be a master mechanic in the last hour?" Sofi quipped as she climbed into the backseat beside Izzy.

"Are you nuts?" Ali retorted playfully from behind the wheel. "I needed help to figure out how to adjust the seat."

"A very helpful member of the state patrol happened by and gave us a few liters of gas," Liv supplied. "We then drove to a town which was just a few klicks down that side-road to fill up before coming back to pick you guys up."

Ali put the car back in gear and pulled onto the highway. "The cop suggested we stop again in, like, an hour. That way we can top off again and figure out our actual efficiency, so we'll know how often we have to refuel."

Sofi, who had buckled herself into the middle seat, snuggled comfortingly against Izzy and said, "So... this cop. Was he hot? Did you guys need to reenact a porno scene on the side of the road where Liv caused her tits toaccidentallyfall out while she pretended to look at the engine? Or maybe Ali stuck that spectacular ass out and the cop nearly t-boned an embankment because he was so distracted?"

Liv laughed out loud. "Shewas very attractive, but I suspect she was just being a good public servant rather than acting on a belief that we'd show our thanks by climbing into the backseat with her to show her why our strap-on will one day be inducted into the sex toy hall of fame."

"No!" Ali barked. "That one's mine! It literally says 'Ali's Fuck Stick' on it."

Izzy chuckled before saying, "I'm not sure if I'm meant to be concerned or turned on."

"Why not both?" Sofi quipped.

Liv swatted Ali playfully. "I figured you'd be in favor of retiring it after last night."

"Izzy's perfect penis is unquestionably the only living thing which will enter this girl's hoo-hah from now on," Ali declared loudly.

"What about fingers?" Sofi asked.

"Or tongues..." Liv added.

"Or whole hands if you're turned on enough..."

"Or..."

"Fine!" Ali shouted. "Any of you are welcome to stick anything you like, be it part of your anatomy or otherwise, inside any and all of my holes at your leisure. Bonus points will be awarded for combinations. But no one else!"

"Score!" Liv announced. "Dibs on the strap on."

"Why?" Izzy asked before his higher brain functions could initiate an executive override.

Sofi leaned over and murmured, "Because my hands are smaller."

"Oh," he grunted.

Sofi held up one of her hands and pushed her fingers and thumb together to form the shape of a point before adding, "Just let me know if you want my help finding out if prostate play is as awesome as you've heard."

"I'm good," he barked immediately.

"The offer remains open," she replied with a laugh.

She then dropped her hand into his lap in such a way that it nestled against the not insubstantial bulge in his pants. Rather than taking issue with his erection, she seemed comforted by it. She leaned her head on his shoulder as she languidly stroked the outline of his shaft.

She gripped him briefly before murmuring, "Is this ok?"

He smiled down at her. "It's wonderful."

She sighed contentedly and resumed her gentle massaging. Her movements felt to him to be more of a thorough effort to memorize his anatomy as opposed to actively trying to pleasure him. Her fingers purposefully traced the head of his manhood before sliding toward his root to gently fondle his balls.

Looking up again, she whispered, "You can touch me too. If you'd like."

Izzy slid his hand from her arm to cup her firm B-cup breast through her faded t-shirt. He gazed down at her in wonder in response to what he felt there. He leaned in and murmured, "When did you take your bra off?"

She smiled up at him. "Who said I ever put one on this morning?"

Liv snickered. "I think we're all in the no-bra-club from now on. Unless we're going to be in public for extended periods of time."

Izzy looked up to discover that the busty beauty was watching them unapologetically from her spot in the front passenger seat. He winced in embarrassment at the notion that their petting had been observed.

Sofi responded by sliding her hand down to his knee and then slipping it inside his shorts to begin a tantalizing trip back up his inner thigh.

Liv sighed softly as she rested her chin on the back of her seat, a wistful expression on her face.

Izzy looked at her worriedly. "We can stop..."

"Why?" she asked in genuine confusion.

"Because you might... I mean... I know you wanted to..."

She smiled brightly. "You still doubt us?"

"No," he protested with a squeak which was helped, at least in part, by the sensation of Sofi's nails dragging deftly along his scrotum.

"Then why would you think I wouldn't want you and Sofi to make each other happy?"

"Because I know you want..."

Her smile widened and she said, "Are you suggesting you've changed your mind about making love to me?"

"Of course not."

"Then make us both happy, Izzy. Unless it would make you uncomfortable for me to watch."

"No..." he replied quickly. "That's... I mean... it's fine. I mean... that would be lovely."

Liv shifted around slightly to look at them from the other side of her headrest. "Are you sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Really, really. I'm not sure what you call this relationship you lovely ladies have devised..."

"I think we should call it a harem," Ali interjected from the driver's seat. "Although I think we're more of a polyamory since we all fuck each other interchangeably."

"Been doing some research?" Sofi quipped.

"I'm a Virgo," Ali retorted with a shrug. "I'm not comfortable when things are undefined."

"In any case," Izzy continued. "I think Ali kind of made my point for me. If you all desire to be with me..."

"I thought we'd finally moved past this," Sofi groaned.

"I'm not doubting you," Izzy hastened to add. "Just recapping for those who missed last week's episode."