Eau 'Burg (mallark) wrote in ledded_pencils,
Eau 'Burg
mallark
ledded_pencils

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Interlude

Title: Coffee and a Blow Job, Part I
Author: Eau 'Burg
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Jimmy Page, Marty (Valet and Nanny for LZ), OFC Natalie
Word Count: 4,214 m/l
Warnings: Language, adult situations, drug use
Disclaimer: Although based on a real person, it's fiction. I made the whole thing up.
Summary: Three parts taking place in 1977. It begins with Natalie sneaking into a Led Zeppelin concert. She gets a view of Jimmy that many of us would kill for. Later, he nearly spits on her, she slips him her tongue, then turned him down when he asked her to join him later. She gets in a fight alongside his employee, the makes herself at home in his hotel. The usual.



The small man made his way down the hotel corridor, knocked on a door, and said in a loud, firm voice “One hour, people!” repeating the action and phrase at each door he came to. He seemed to be oblivious to the curses and insults yelled back at him through the doors and the people laying around on the carpeting in the hallway. He stepped over them with few of receiving kicks. Doing whatever it took to get everybody to do their job, was his job. He was good both kicking asses and soothing them, which is why he was hired to ‘nanny’ the Led Zeppelin entourage. The elevator door opened and a tall, thin man with long dark hair stepped out and looked around blearily. The woman under his arm was bleached-blond and looked like she had been through a hurricane.

You could hear tiredness in his voice as he murmured “Thanks for your company Rosie, you can go now.”

“Silly Jimmy, it’s Ronnie, I want to spend another night with you. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“You all do what I want. Not that interesting an offer.” He called to the man waking the group up, “Marty, would you get a taxi for her?”

Marty stopped his wake up knocks and came toward them, taking Ronnie’s arm. “Come with me, Jimmy needs his rest, I’ll see you to a cab.” He hustled the woman back into the elevator. Jimmy caught some tearful words from Ronnie as the elevator doors closed. Not at all bothered by her distress, he thought he’d better find his room.

“Fuck, which’s mine?” He started down the corridor, tripping over the hall sleepers looking at doors, trying to remember which room was his. If he didn’t rest he wasn’t going to make it through the gig tonight. He stopped at a door and tried opening it. When it wouldn’t, he banged on the door and a naked girl, makeup smeared on her face opened it. She squealed as Jimmy pushed past her muttering “H’lo, I’m crashing here,” and made for the bed.

“I can’t believe this, are you just getting in?” Robert Plant, fresh from the shower, watched as Jimmy Page stumbled to the rumpled, occupied bed and dropped in it face first. The other girl in the room scurried off the bed and stared at the him laying there. “Girls, get dressed and be on your way.” The two girls started pulling their clothes on and left.

Robert said to Jimmy’s unconscious form, “You drunken twat. Go to the gig as you are, stinking in last night’s clothes.” Stalking back into the bathroom he finished getting ready for tonight’s gig. The concern he used to feel watching Jimmy self destruct had turned into frustration. It happened too often anymore to care so much. Shrugging it off, he carefully shaved his face before blow drying his hair into a perfect cloud, he then dressed and put on his jewelry. Answering a knock on his door, Robert opened it to find Marty, returned from dispatching Jimmy’s woman, now delivering tea. As Robert took his tea and left the room he informed Marty, “He’s passed out on my bed. You’ll take care of it, won’t you?”

Marty carried on with his duty of getting the band and their assorted assistants up and out of the hotel. Finally with one person left he went back into Robert’s room where Jimmy was still fast asleep, face down. Marty shook his shoulder, then not getting a response he flipped him over and sat him up.

Jimmy looked up at him vacantly, and said, “nnah guf lip” or something to that effect.

Marty put the coffee cup to Jimmy’s mouth and poured some in. Waiting until Jimmy swallowed, he did it again and again till the cup was empty. Marty said quietly, “Let’s get downstairs Jimmy. It won’t be too long until you can have a good long sleep.” Jimmy slowly stood. With Marty holding his arm, he made his way, wavering, from the room to the elevator and down to the hotel lobby.

~-~

Chris had only been working at the stadium for a month and he was sneaking his big sister backstage to see Led Zeppelin. He prodded her into going because he thought she needed to get out of the apartment and take a break from her studies. “Nat, you are going to be blown away, seeing them live. You used to like to hear them when I played my records in high school.”

“I know that it drove mom nuts. We had to wait till she left to play them. Are you sure you won’t get in trouble? I’ll feel awful if my baby brother lost the world’s best job to sneak me backstage to see a concert.”

“Nah, it’s cool sis, chicks come back here all the time. Just watch out for the roadies. Some of them are really rough. They might try to grope you or something. If someone questions you, say you’re a guest of Mike, there’s six or seven of them working back here. You going to be ok catching the bus home by yourself?”

“I’m a big girl and I’m not waiting here for an hour or two while you finish work. I’ll be fine, go on. See you after the concert!”

Giving her a last look, he took off to get to work. Natalie settled against a wall, watching the activity going on around her.

A couple of girls, younger than she, came up to her and asked “Who are you?” The girls were wearing heavy makeup; one had on short-shorts and a tube top, the other, a mini skirt and see-through blouse, both were teetering around on platform sandals. Nat was glad she wasn’t dressed any differently from her usual college student clothes of jeans and oxford shirt. No one could mistake her for a groupie hanging out hoping to be noticed by someone in the band.

She answered “I’m with Mike,” which seemed to satisfy them and they moved on. She next watched a couple of men walking toward her, one of them swaying as he walked, the other directing him to where they were supposed to be heading. The man walking in a crooked line was the guitarist of the band. He looked different from pictures she had seen in Chris’s music magazines. He looked half dead, she was wondering if the concert would happen with one of the musicians in such rough shape. When they got closer, the shorter man supporting Jimmy asked her the same question as the girls. She gave him her practiced ‘I’m with Mike’ answer, confident now that it worked.

“Then if you’re not occupied, would you mind giving me a hand with Jimmy? He needs coffee, and I’ve got my hands full.”

Jimmy stopped him. “No coffee, get me a bottle.” He spoke so quietly Natalie could barely hear him.

“Good, you’re speaking now. Off to the dressing rooms.” He pointed Jimmy toward a door and gave him a push. “Would you be kind and fetch coffee for us anyway?”

“Sure, I saw food in the back, they’ll have coffee, I think. Where do you want me to bring it?”

“Right in there,” he gestured toward the door Jimmy was walking through. “Tell them Marty said to bring it,” and followed him. Natalie went to where she had seen the food tables, and filled two Styrofoam cups with coffee that smelled strong enough to dissolve paint. When she got to the door the men had used, she knocked.

A tough looking man opened it and asked “You got any business being back here?”

“I’ve got coffee for Jimmy. Marty said I should bring it in here.” The man directed her through a bustle of activity to another door. When she knocked, she heard a murmur, which she assumed meant to enter, and walked in.

Jimmy Page, clad in nothing but scarf, sunglasses and underpants, was about to topple over. His foot, with a shoe still on it, was caught in his trousers. Natalie set the coffee down and knelt at his feet to untangle him before he fell over. After freeing him she looked up, her gaze arrested by the sight of Jimmy’s package, clad in the tiniest black underwear she had ever seen.

Also looking at his crotch, Jimmy said almost inaudibly, “Shit, they’re black, have I any white?”

Looking away to recover her senses, she got up and poked her head out the door. Seeing Marty, she beckoned him to come over. “He says he needs white underpants,” she whispered.

Marty leaned in the doorway and told him to go without. “No time for that, just get dressed.”

Shrugging, Jimmy pulled off his tiny black underpants and reached for his white satin trousers. “Guess everybody will get an eyeful then. Don’t feel good, free balling in the poppy suit, s’going to chafe.”

She tried to look anywhere but at the man’s privates, which, thank goodness, looked like nice, normal, man parts, and not the fearsome beast-like attributes she’d heard other girls in college gossiping about. It gave her a sense of satisfaction, that she was afraid was immature, to be this close to a man the popular girls had fantasized over. Seeing the coffee, she picked up a cup and took a sip. And coughed, spluttering “Oh my god, that’s disgusting coffee.”

Jimmy agreed with her, “Stage coffee’s always foul.” With some trouble he fastened the button on the waist, then reached for the other cup of coffee. “Who are you again?” He sat down and lit up a cigarette.

“I’m Natalie. I’m a guest of Mike’s.”

“Well, my hair looks a fright, can you do hair?”

Natalie grabbed a brush and started at the ends. Jimmy continued sipping his coffee and smoking as she brushed away tangles and snarls. His hair, now tamed, was a mass of waves and curls, so much prettier than her own straight dark hair, she thought. Hers wouldn’t hold a curl to save her life, not that she tried much these days, just chopped off the bangs so she could see. He reached up to stop her brushing.

“Good enough, come here.” He brought her to his side and tugged gently down with his hand on her arm.

She dropped to her knees, confused. He put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her face in close to his groin. Having his hair brushed evidently aroused him, as the front of the white satin was tented out with his erection.

In his quiet voice, he told her, “Go on, take care of it.” She hesitated, unsure why she wasn’t telling him off, then slowly her hands moved to the fastenings of his trousers, and undid them. As she exposed him, he pushed on the back of her neck again and she gave into the pressure, opened her mouth and took him in. He tasted salty and bitter, but she kept going with the urging of his hands. He thrust his hips as he held her head steady, causing her to gag as his cock prodded the back of her throat. “Sorry, I won’t do that again, just keep going.” She went up and down on him, disoriented by her complicity with his wants, until he burst in her mouth. She lifted her head to look at him. His head was thrown back and his chest was rising rapidly with his breathing.

After recovering, Jimmy stood and fastened back up. Looking in the mirror, he muttered “At least I don’t look like total shit.” Sounding more alert he asked, “Which Mike are you with? Never mind, don’t want to know the bastard.” He drained the coffee cup. “He’s got a lovely girl, thanks for your help.”

Bewildered by their encounter, she watched him walk down the hall, still not altogether steady on his feet. She rinsed his taste from her mouth with the rest of her coffee while she waited for the hallway to clear out. She stared at the floor as she walked to the stage to avoid meeting anyone’s gaze, sure that with one look they would know what she just did to Jimmy. She relaxed when a familiar song began, and moved to a good spot to watch the band’s performance. Jimmy looked tired at first, but warmed up, getting into a groove by the third song.

About an hour into the concert, Natalie chose to not think about the blow job, and was really enjoying the music. The guys were on fire, ripping out riffs and throwing in twists to familiar tunes in ways she never imagined could be done. She’d heard most of the songs before, on the radio and listening to Chris’s records. She had no idea the music, played in concert, would sound alive, breathing and growing, fed by the four men.

Catching sight of a huge man lumbering toward the side of the stage, she shrank a little. He looked authoritative and intimidating, somebody a stowaway like her should avoid. The small man who asked for her help earlier came up to him and they talked. He looked around. Seeing her, he spoke,to the big man, who turned and gave her a hard look, but nodded. She smiled and nodded back at him, hoping she came off confident. He turned his attention back to the stage. Good, he was going to ignore her, she thought, able to relax and enjoy the music once more.

Another rollicking, pulsating song started, this one she remembered was the big drum solo. Noticing that activity was picking up backstage, Natalie figured she’d better not be in sight. The other musicians might not stay on stage for the solo, and she didn’t think she would survive any more attention. Having a quick look around, she saw a large crate that looked like behind it would be a cozy spot to disappear to. She made her way over to the crate, sat on the floor and leaned back on the wall to wait.

The drums were loud but so were the voices she heard. Girls’ voices were asking ‘don’t you think I’m pretty’ or saying ‘I give great blow jobs’. Hearing this made her turn red, she was no better than these girls, when she thought about what she did before the show. Until her servicing of Jimmy, she had only been intimate with men she had relationships with. She had thought that living with a bunch of guys had cured her of her inherent prudishness, they not being shy in the least. Seems she was right and wrong. Blowing a rock star hadn’t bothered her much, and the experience was oddly arousing, if a little embarrassing. She felt the crate shift a bit and heard a big sniff, she peered around the crate and saw long legs in white satin dangling off the side. Him again.

Sitting on the crate, Jimmy Page took a couple more big sniffs through a metal tube off a tray held by an older woman who took the paraphernalia and walked off. Natalie guessed he was snorting cocaine. She’d never tried it, but this was a different world. She smiled to herself. She was taking in the goings on around her as if she was an anthropologist observing some undiscovered civilization. The guitarist flopped back on the crate, banging his head on the wall. He laughed, rubbing it. Then making a horrible noise, he cleared his throat, and turned to where Natalie was sitting. She squealed and scooted away as quickly as she could. She knew what came after a guy made that noise.

“Sorry, didn’t realize you were there. It’s Nancy, right?” He turned the other way and spat. “That’s disgusting, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I live with three guys. There’s not much that grosses me out any more.”

“Sounds like you’re an adventurous girl. Want some blow?”

“No thanks, despite appearances, I’m not that adventurous. One of the guys is my younger brother, and the others are just friends.”

Getting off the crate, Jimmy said “I’m thirsty, let’s find a couple of beers.” He put his hand down and pulled her up. Without letting go, he headed to the back of the stage where beverages were on ice and platters of food set out. He grabbed two beers, with her free hand Natalie grabbed a sandwich. Jimmy led them back to their crate. He banged the tops off on the edge of the crate and handed her one, taking a long pull off his own bottle.

“So Nancy, if you’re not adventurous, what’re you doing backstage with Led Zeppelin?”

“My name’s Natalie, and after bringing you coffee, brushing your hair and going down on you, I thought I might as well listen to the music. I was just minding my own business enjoying the concert, when you nearly spat on me.”

“You could have told me to fuck off, I’m not that awful. You should be glad then that you brought me coffee, or I may not have been awake enough to avoid spitting on you.”

“Believe me, I’m glad. Tonight has been fun so far. My day to day life is nowhere near this interesting.” She passed him half of the sandwich she had grabbed on their beer run.

He looked at the sandwich, “I don’t feel like eating right now, too fattening.”

“Go on, eat it. A sandwich goes great with beer.” She took a bite out of hers and a sip of her beer, closing her eyes and saying “mmm.”

He laughed and started in on his half, he heard the cue that the drum solo was ending, and downed his beer. “Stick around after the show. We’re going to a club. You could be adventurous and hang out with me. Hell, forgot about Mike. Too bad, I like you.”

Natalie was tempted to confess the truth about ‘Mike’ then thought to leave it. She wasn’t ready to party with rock stars. “I like you too, Jimmy, but . . .”

“Give us a kiss then, and we’ll part ways.” He leaned over and gave her a wet, beery kiss.

Natalie thought to herself, go for it, she wasn’t likely to ever have the chance to kiss a rock star again. So she intensified things by slipping her tongue in his mouth. The kiss became passionate. Jimmy’s hands cupped her ass and pulled her into him. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed back, enjoying the contact until someone came and tapped Jimmy on the arm, saying “Time Pagey.”

After a shared smile he went back on stage with the rest of the band. Once more thrown for a loop by Jimmy Page, she couldn’t seem to find the motivation to move until Marty came up to her and asked, “Is Mike going to mind you scoring with another guy while he’s working?”

Feeling as if she would explode if she lied anymore, Natalie confessed, “I’m not with Mike, my brother and I made him up. He said there were several guys called ‘Mike’ working tonight and nobody would bother me if they thought I was with one of them.”

“And your brother is . . .”

“Working in maintenance. Please don’t say anything, he loves this job.”

“Don’t worry, you’ve been a help, and you kept Pagey occupied during the break. It’s not good for him to be at loose ends.” He added, “Why don’t you stay with me for the rest of the concert, I’ll keep you entertained and out of harm’s way.”

“You’re not one of the roadies my brother warned me about are you?”

Marty laughed, “No, I’m the valet and nanny for the band, besides I don’t swing that way.”

“Well then, I accept.”

They spent the rest of the concert sitting together, listening to the music and telling each stories and nonsense. Getting sillier with each beer taken from the service table and a shared joint, they found in each other similar sensibility. By the time the concert was over and the encores began, they felt like fast friends.

“Bollocks, it’s back to work for me. Stick around, I shouldn’t be long. They take off from the concert before the sweat dries. We can continue our affair at the hotel.”

“As fun as that would be, I’ve got to study tomorrow. I’d better stick to the plan and catch the bus home.”

“What are you thinking? You cannot leave alone, it’s not safe. Wait for me and I’ll see you home in my car.”

“Thanks, I'd appreciate it. I wasn’t looking forward to catching the bus by myself but I didn’t want to wait for my brother to finish work."

Marty didn’t have much to see to, as the band had one more night at the arena, and was ready to go in half an hour. They headed out to the garage where Marty’s car waited. With the band and it’s retinue gone, the garage was quiet and nearly empty.

“Hey pretty lady,” a couple of guys called to her. “We got weed and beer in the van. You should ditch this old guy and party with us.”

Natalie grabbed Marty’s arm when she sensed him tensing up, but he said, “Fuck off you cunts,” before she could stop him.

One of the guys stepped up to Marty and swung at him. Marty dodged the blow and gave the bigger man a couple of sharp jabs that bent him over double, while the other guy had Natalie by the arm. She kneed him in the groin, but not very successfully as he punched her in the face and she fell to the ground. The sound of running feet passed her, someone coming to their rescue, she guessed with relief. The guys that jumped her and Marty took off. Then a pair of hands touched her shoulders. She rolled over and screamed, hands up, ready to fight again.

“Shh honey, it’s just Marty.” He sat her up and she relaxed into his chest and started to cry. He patted her back and stroked her hair, repeating “You’re okay,” to her over and over. Her crying slowed and Marty helped her up. Looking at her he swore and touched her cheek gently.“Ah dear, your eye is going to be a beaut tomorrow. You’re not much of a hand in a fight are you?”

“I may not be good in a fight, but I can recite the elements in the Period Table along with the corresponding atomic numbers and masses. That could come in handy.”

The fellow that chased the bad guys off came up to Marty. “Thanks Mike,” Marty said to the man who was a member of the road crew, “you’re a good man to have around.”

“No problem Marty, you winded the big one. The fucker who hit the lady took a little tumble over the guard rail.”

“Make yourself scarce then, we’re taking off now. Look for something extra in your pay envelope.”

In the car, Natalie said, with false cheer, “So that’s Mike, glad I’m dating him.” Her voice choked up slightly, “Wish he’d shown up a minute earlier.”

He took a flask from the glove box and took the cap off before handing it to her. “Drink a little of this, it will settle you down.” She hissed in pain when she took the flask. He took it back to look at her hand. “Your poor hand’s scraped up, tell me what else hurts.”

“Nothing hurts too much. Both my hand and elbow are scraped up. I think my hip might be bruised. I fell on my side.” A sob escaped, “I’ve been hurt worse than this falling off a bike.”

“Your bicycle didn’t punch you in the face. I’d like you to stay at the hotel tonight, just to make sure you’re not hurt worse than you think. We’ve got a physician with us, I’d like for him to look you over.”

“I’ll take you up this time. My brother will fuss and I won’t get any rest. I’ll call him from the hotel to tell him about my hot date.”

Marty started the car and they left the garage.

At the hotel, they got out and Marty handed the keys over to have the car parked. They headed for the elevators, bypassing the check in desk.

“Don’t you need to get me a room?”

“We’ve got an entire floor for the band, and rooms for the crew. There’s a couple of going empty on the floor I’m staying on. We’ll just pop you in the room next to mine and order something to eat. I’m on the quiet end with Jones and Grant. We’re quiet, dull blokes, you’ll get a good night’s sleep.”

“I’d like dinner, but a bath first I think. Then I might sleep.”

The elevator stopped and they exited. As soon as the people littering the corridor saw Marty, they swarmed. He told each of them he would get to them in a minute. Stopping in front of a door, he pulled a passkey out of his pocket and opened it.


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