THE BACKING SINGERS

It had been a long, frustrating afternoon in the recording studio. Darya Jones was making her first solo album, and things were not going well. She had been a leading member of a hugely successful all-girl pop group, for which she had been chosen by their manager for her stunning looks even more than her rich and melodic singing voice. But that voice was not coming up to scratch now, as stress and pressure affected her reach for the purer notes. Darya had recently quit the girl-group to launch her own separate career, and everything was riding on the success of this first solo venture. Would she rise to the dizzy heights of a Beyonce or Robbie Williams, or plunge into derided obscurity, like the former Ginger Spice? It felt to her more and more as if it would be the latter, as she struggled with material which a few months previously she would have soared through. Darya was in a turmoil of emotions, swinging from tearful laments to bitchy complaints, and her moods were starting to affect everyone else around her.

Beth and Sandi looked at each other meaningfully, and the latter left the recording area to talk quietly to the producer and sound engineer in their glass-fronted control booth. The two women were well-known and highly-regarded backing vocalists, having already done a lot of session work and toured with a couple of very popular bands. As so often with the best backing singers, they were African-Americans, Beth hailing from Brooklyn and Sandi from Chicago; at the age of 28, the latter was the older by a year. They had met four years previously, when they had been separately hired to provide backing vocals on a five-month world tour by a rock group who were just breaking through into the front rank. Sharing a hotel room, they had realised during the first week that they were both lesbians, and they got on so well and had so much in common that by the end of the tour they had fallen in love and formed a permanent partnership. One of the things which they had in common was a voracious appetite for sex, with any attractive woman of any colour or race. They had no rule against taking advantage of any sexual opportunities that might occur to them separately, and they particularly enjoyed bringing another woman or a couple into their embrace for a threesome or foursome fuckathon.

To be successful as young, black backing vocalists, they not only had to sound great, with deep soulful voices – they also had to look good in skimpy outfits, and be able to shake their ass on stage. Both women had near to hour-glass figures, with full ripe breasts (Sandi wore a 32F bra size, and the even more busty Beth an amazing 34G), narrow waists, wide flaring hips and a jutting but very firmly-rounded ass. They were wearing their usual studio-casual attire: nothing too distractingly sexy for the male musicians and crew, but comfortable in the generally quite warm indoor environment. Sandi had a pair of blue denim jeans which were cut off half-way between the knee and the ankle, and an emerald-green loose-fitting sleeveless top; Beth was wearing a light woollen knee-length skirt with a red and black tartan-like pattern, and a turtle-neck cashmere sweater in complementary dark red; in her case, the tighter top did show the shape of her breasts and the clear outline of the full-cup bra underneath. Both wore comfortable but neat black shoes, Sandi with a pair of short white ankle-socks and Beth with black hold-up stockings.

Sandi returned to the main area, just as the producer announced over the intercom that everyone was to take a one-hour break and clear the studio, except for the girls who were going to keep Darya company. The star singer looked surprised at this – she liked the two black women, but hardly knew them; their contact over the previous week had been pleasant, but purely professional. She was encouraged, however, when Sandi smiled at her warmly, and said:

‘Honey, we’ve seen folk with exactly this problem before – it’s the pressure, we know, and until you relax, you won’t do yourself justice and be happy with what’s being laid down.’

Darya nodded: it was true enough, and she knew it well – in fact, a large part of her frustration and growing anger was the failure of her attempts to settle herself down. It didn’t help, of course, that she had no special relationship in her life, no one whom she could turn to for comfort and relief. Of course, there was her manager, her agent, her publicist, her stylist and so on – people she liked well enough, but they were focused upon her career and so were part of pressure, not an escape from it. The girl-group’s rise to fortune had involved almost total absorption and constant hard work for all of them, and then the repeated round of touring and recording had left no space for a personal life. Ironically, given her present difficulty, this had been the main reason why she had quit – she hadn’t (despite the lying stories in the press) fallen out with the other girls, and if anything she desperately missed their close support and ribald camaraderie. Perhaps, she thought, with her spirits beginning to rise from rock bottom, these women might be a substitute – some kind of sisterhood.

‘Well,’ chimed in Beth, with a wickedly-appealing broad grin on her face, ‘we have an idea, we know just the thing to relax you – or at least, the first instalment in getting you back to base. Now, we’ve got the place to ourselves for an hour, no one is going to interrupt us.’ As she said this, Sandi moved over and turned the lock on the studio door from the inside.

The two black lovers exchanged a quick smile of delighted anticipation. At last, they were going to get the chance to do what they had longed for ever since accepting this gig – getting their hands on Darya’s luscious body. The singer was aged 24, a white woman with skin the colour of a soft pink pearl and a perfect complexion. She had a heart-shaped face with slightly pouty lips, wide and deep dark eyes, and a mane of chestnut hair, artfully tousled and highlighted. Her body was one to sell your soul for (and, just sometimes in her darker hours, Darya wondered if perhaps she had). Nothing was out of place, nothing was even a shade too large or too small – it was all perfectly in proportion. She was of medium height and her breasts were certainly smaller than either of the black babes – but they jutted out from her chest with a swinging pertness that magnetically drew the eye. She had a small waist, ironing-board flat stomach, and a tight trim ass which swayed with her every step, competing with her tits for attention. In a line of beauty queens standing like statues, she would have claimed attention – but it was in motion that she really became supreme, with the lightness of her moves and her dancer’s instinctive feel for poise, turn and step. She exuded an extraordinary combination of opposites – on the one hand, youth, health, zest for life, innocence and eagerness; on the other, a rich, earthy sexuality, a smouldering and direct regard, a sway of the figure that was suggestive of overflowing sensuality on the verge of popping its cork. It was no surprise that in the girl-group’s visually-arresting and sexy videos, the camera lingered most often on Darya’s face and body, which was usually striking a ‘fuck me’ pose in a skimpy outfit. In fact, a breakthrough moment in the band’s rise had been a video with a controversial moment in which Darya and one of the two blondes in the group, both wearing a mini-skirted kind of school uniform, had rubbed their bodies together. All in all, Darya Jones was as hot and enticing a babe as Jessica Sutta of the ‘Pussycat Dolls’, the group which her’s had been modelled on and had followed after to world-wide success.

Sandi pulled the stool from the drum kit over to the small clear area in the centre of the studio and told Darya to sit on it, with her back to Beth. The latter then began a dextrous massage of Darya’s tense shoulders and neck, easing away the stiffness that was being caused by anxiety, and kneading the muscles with her fingertips. Darya closed her eyes in pleasure at the black woman’s firm touch and assured technique, and she began to feel a little better almost at once.

‘Lean back against me, rest your head.’ whispered Beth softly. After a moment’s hesitation, Darya eased backwards a little and let the back of her head find a natural cradle in the deep cleavage between Beth’s magnificent breasts. They made a soft yet firm pillow, giving a sensation which was oddly comforting; Darya could feel the warmth of the black woman’s body through Beth’s thin cashmere top, and this set off an unexpected but not unpleasant tingling in her own nipples.

After a couple of minutes, Sandi asked her if this was helping; when she readily confirmed it, Sandi nodded to Beth, and then said to Darya:

‘Time for stage two – you’ll like this even more, just give it a chance.’

Darya was wearing a knee-length skirt in a mellow brown colour, and above that a cross-over knitted top that both enclosed and highlighted her breasts. With Beth continuing her expert massage, Darya gave only a mild murmur of surprise when Sandi gripped the hem of her top and gently drew it up over her head. This revealed her smoothly-rounded breasts, encased in a plain black bra which had thin shoulder-straps and a narrow back-band. Beth began massaging further down Darya’s back, above and below the back-band, eliciting appreciative noises from the young white beauty.

‘It’s getting warm in here’, muttered Beth in a husky voice, and she paused for a second to pull off her own top, before bringing Darya’s head back to nestle against the bare skin of her breasts, and resuming her firm and steady massage of her back and neck.

The singer stirred momentarily as Sandi now joined in with a counter-point at her front, gently rubbing Darya’s bare midriff. It seemed natural when the slimmer black babe’s hands also occasionally traced around and over her breasts, and she gave only a slight indrawn breath when she felt Beth unclasp her bra at the back, and in a co-ordinated move Sandi pulled it away from her chest and dropped it to the floor.

Darya floated in a sea of delightful sensations, with Sandi now stroking her breasts more firmly and Beth’s agile fingers ranging unobstructed over her shoulders and back, whilst her head was still comfortably supported by Beth’s firm mammaries. Darya felt mellow and unwound, and could almost see her cares dissolving away.

The next sensation made her give a faint gasp of surprise, as Sandi’s mouth came to lick and nibble around her breasts, massaging and sucking on the nipples. This was unmistakeably sexual in purpose, but Darya was past caring – it all felt so wonderful, so relaxing and so natural, that she could not have objected. She was feeling good, in fact she realised that she had not felt this good in a long time, not in a very long time indeed. This was just between the three of them anyway, and in private – what did it matter what anyone else might think?

Darya was starting to feel aroused as well as soothed – curiously, the two sensations seemed to flow together rather than to conflict with each other. She felt richly sensual, aware of everything around her with a crystal clarity that had not been there an hour before. Darya thought of herself suddenly as being like a half-asleep cat, purring as it was stroked, yet also ready to pounce at any moment. She could hear every tiny sound in the quiet studio, every slight shift of Sandi’s knees or Beth’s feet on the floor, every inhalation and exhalation that the two backing vocalists made, and the accompaniment of her own responsive breaths and murmurs.

With Sandi’s mouth pressing against her breasts, Darya had to shift position slightly on the stool, widening her stance partly to keep her balance and partly in response to the developing itchy feeling in her crotch. This motion drew her skirt a few inches up her leg, and Sandi then pushed it further back to the top of her thighs. Then, and without ceasing her oral attentions to Darya’s perfectly-formed breasts, Sandi slipped a hand up between the parted legs, and began gently to stroke the front of Darya’s panties.

Darya gave a broken murmur, but it was the sound of acquiescence and not of complaint, and her head remained back although her eyes were now open and round in wonderment. Sandi reached up for her panties and Darya lifted her hips a couple of inches off the stool, allowing the flimsy garment to be pulled easily down her legs and tossed aside. This motion had the twin effects of arching her back and thrusting her tits upwards, and she felt Beth lean forward slightly to grip one in each of her large hands, the vivid contrast of her black skin and Darya’s pale pink breast-flesh causing the singer’s pussy to flood with wetness. Sandi spread the white woman’s legs wider apart, and now brought her mouth up to Darya’s slit, which was visibly enlarged. Darya shuddered in pleasure at the deft attentions of Sandi’s experienced tongue, whilst Beth’s stroking of her breasts turned into a firmer pulling and tweaking of her nipples. Darya’s legs were now spread wide apart, her cunt fully exposed and her skirt bunched around her waist, above which she was entirely naked.

As Sandi began to supplement her questing tongue with the probings of her fingers, Darya’s breathing became more rapid and harsher, her back arched further, and she twisted her eyes firmly shut whilst the moment of ecstasy built until it hit her like a freight train. She stiffened in the grasp of the black women, thrust her pelvis upwards against Sandi’s probing gingers, lolled her head right back, and gave a series of clear pealing cries – it was fortunate that the studio was, of course, completely sound-proof.

Darya subsided, sweat on her face, breasts and stomach, as Sandi withdrew her fingers and tongue and sat backwards on her haunches. Beth ceased squeezing her breasts, but continued to hold Darya there, partly to provide support lest she faint or topple over.

‘My God! Oh, my God!’ exclaimed Darya in amazement; ‘that was unbelievable – wow!!’

‘So – do you feel a bit better then?’, enquired Sandi mischievously, getting a nod and a breathless smile in return.

‘Good, because that’s only the first half of your treatment!’ said Beth, with a hungry tone in her voice. She let go of Darya and walked over to the corner of the studio near the door, where everyone had left their personal bags, securely in sight but out of the way.

Darya was eyeing the erotic sight of Sandi, who was squatting immediately before her, providing an enticing view of her full 32F breasts in an underwired multiway bra of pale pink, the colour contrasting deliciously with the rich chocolate texture of her smooth skin. The bra was of the type that fastened at the front between the two breast cups, and that tempting opportunity was too much for Darya to resist. She leaned forwards, her eyes fixed on Sandi’s – who breathed in with anticipation but remained motionless – and uncoupled the fastening. The two halves of the bra tumbled away to each side, spilling Sandi’s ripe boobs forwards, revealing the pinker aureoles and two surprising large and stiffly erect nipples. Darya cupped one breast in each palm, and then drew Sandi forwards and upwards towards her. First she kissed her on the mouth, slowly and savouring every taste, every rasp of tongue against tongue. She broke the kiss after about a minute and bent forward to take one of Sandi’s nipples into her mouth, whilst beginning a firm kneading of the black woman’s other breast.

Sandi was on her knees, and with a grunt she hastily unsnubbed the button of her jeans, pulled down the zip, and jerked them roughly downwards over her hips. A pair of sweet and surprisingly modest midi-style panties in matching pink were revealed, and Sandi’s hand delved inside them like a fire-crew racing to put out a blaze. And that is what it felt like – her fondling and licking of Darya’s stunning beautiful body had aroused her to burning intensity, and the sight of the white woman’s lips clamped onto her tit turned this into an inferno. Sandi began to moan and slightly rock as she thrust her fingers deep into her own vagina, pumping hard, almost sobbing in her urgent need for release. It came quickly enough, only a few seconds after Darya had swapped her oral attentions to the other breast, and Sandi went rigid for a moment, her hand clamped between her thighs, as she gave a panting, growling groan.

Beth had watched this attention to her lover with appreciation and approval, and Darya’s initiative meant that she had no doubts about taking things yet a stage further. She had gone to her bag to get her vibrator – she always carried one with her, her motto being never to leave home without one – you didn’t know when you might need it, and there had been a few occasions when its availability had turned an opportunity into an orgy. She eased her dishevelled lover away from Darya, and Sandi stripped off her jeans and panties, standing completely naked apart from the contrast of her white ankle socks. Whilst watching this out of the corner of her eye with undisguised interest, Darya turned to Beth:

‘Thank you, both of you – thank you so much! It’s a cliche, I know, but I really do feel like a whole new woman.’

‘It’s our pleasure, honey – and I really do mean that!’ replied Beth, adding with a smile: ‘anyhow, we ain’t done yet – the Doctor here has some more medicine prescribed for you.’

‘Oh, goody!’ sighed Darya, thrilled that her awakening – as she recognised it to be, from a long slumber of sexual withdrawal and apathy – was going to continue.

Beth told Darya to lie on the floor on her back. The big-busted black woman then stripped off her skirt and panties, and came to stand over Darya wearing only her hold-ups and bra – the view of from below highlighted the swell of her huge breasts, and set Darya’s pussy-juices gushing again. Beth slowly lowered herself, giving Darya a brief moment in which to kiss, lick and taste her spread-open vagina, after which she spent a moment rubbing it on one of Darya’s nipples. Then Beth settled down onto her hands and knees in a 69 position, and began to use the vibrator on Darya’s cunt. The black singer’s heavy breasts rested on Darya’s firm flat stomach, whilst Sandi supported Darya’s head and so that the white woman could lick eagerly at Beth’s pussy. With loving care and practised dexterity, Beth brought Darya in a steady progression up to a gasping climax, muffled only by the fact that her face was buried into Beth’s crotch at the time. For just a moment after making the gorgeous pop-star orgasm, Beth pressed her pussy harder down onto Darya’s face, shook herself slightly, and gave a shuddering moan as she came, sticky juices from her vagina leaking over Darya’s lips and cheeks.

The black girls had one more move in their game plan; this was intended to relax Darya, to shake her out of her stress and blues, and – hopefully – to convert her into full lesbianism and a willing sex partner. Beth clambered off the prone, stunned, but increasingly happy young white woman, and smiled down at her. She was relieved and pleased to be receive a broadening, contented, lazy grin in return.

‘Oh, Beth!’ exclaimed Darya girlishly, ‘that was just wonderful. I never thought – I mean, I never realised how good it can be with another woman!’ Then, more soberly, she added: ‘I’ve missed out on so much – but,’ with a determined note entering her voice, ‘not any more!’

‘That’s good, you sexy slut,’ replied Beth, grinning back at her, ‘because Doctor Sandi is gonna give you her treatment, just you wait!’

Darya turned her gaze to the other backing singer, who had avidly watched the 69 session from a nearby stool, with her legs spread open and her fingers stroking the inside of her puffy labial lips, giving occasional flicks to the hood of her clitoris. Now Sandi stood up, and extended a helping hand to assist Darya in climbing to her feet. For a moment the young white woman felt a little giddy and faint, but it swiftly passed as she leant for a moment against Sandi’s warm chocolate woman-flesh.

Sandi took Darya across to the stool and bent her over it, her ass thrust outwards behind her as Darya gripped the legs on the other side of the stool. Sandi took the vibrator from her lover, switched it to a higher setting, and began to apply it to Darya’s cunt. At first, she eased it in gently, but once she became sure that Darya’s vagina was well-lubricated, she rapidly picked up the pace, force and depth of her thrusts. Darya began to moan, experiencing sensations and stimulations she had never known before – and all of them exciting, electrifying, wonderful, and somehow so absolutely right. As Sandi fucked the white woman vigorously from behind, Beth came and stood in front of her, and gave her support – but also further mind-blowing stimulation – by grasping her breasts and kneading them, squeezing and tweaking Darya’s tits. The position also brought Darya’s face back into contact with what in a way had been the starting point – Beth’s luscious ripe breasts, now impressively unconfined and swinging free. Like a starving baby, her mouth hungrily latched onto the nearest one, and Beth’s head went back with a whimper as she soaked up the sexual attentions of the woman who most popular magazines regularly ratted amongst the ten hottest bods in the whole world.

Beth was quite expert with a vibrator, but Sandi was a true master of the art, and had taught her a new few things. Now the slimmer black babe used her craft to take Darya up to the brink of orgasm three times, only to deny her release, pause, and begin the process in a different way and direction. The effect was like stoking a pressure-cooker – literally, as after the third prevented orgasm Darya felt she would explode. Sandi’s aim was not to frustrate her; unlike the inexperienced Darya, she knew the gain that could come from loading more fuel onto the fire. And so it proved: after taking a quick glance at the clock on the studio wall to calculate how much of their hour was left, Sandi shifted the vibrator to her right hand and took a grip on a hunk of Darya’s hair with her left hand. She used this to pull the younger white woman back towards her, making her back arch up in a curve in response to the ramming lunges that were hammering into her pussy. Sandi was in the driving seat, and no novice learner: at just the perfect moment, she changed pace and direction, altering to a more staccato rhythm and – crucially – twisting the vibrator in and out with a corkscrew type motion.

It was certainly fortunate that the studio was so fully sound-proofed, for when Sandi took Darya up to the crest for the fourth time and drove her straight on and over it, she made a huge amount of noise as she triple-orgasmed – or at least, she thought she did; if not, it must have been truly huge and long-lasting single climax.

Darya had had one previous experience of girl-sex many years earlier with a school friend; she had liked it and had been disappointed when the friend wanted to drop it. However, she had then told herself that it was for the best and that straight sex ought to be her thing, although in truth it had never done as much for her as it seemed to for the guys she allowed to fuck her – and in the last three years, as she now realised for more a more fundamental reason than the obvious excuse of lack of time, there had been almost no one. Ironically, for someone hailed as one of the sexiest babes on the planet, constantly photographed in revealing costumes and with a whirlwind of pouting sexual suggestivity in her videos and stage routines, she had been nearly celibate in her private life. She had told herself then that she had no time for relationships with men, but now she realised that it was just as much that she had no desire for them either. As she surrendered to another dizzying climax, she understood – this was what she was missing, this was what she had wanted all along, ever since that one taste of pussy when she had been only seventeen.

After just over half and hour, the trio were sweat-soaked, cum-streaked, invigorated, relaxed and laughing. They gathered up their strewn clothes, and turned the air conditioning up to full to clear away the unmistakeable smells of sweat and girl-cum. The contented trio slipped out to the nearby ladies washroom, which was equipped with long days of work and the needs of demanding showbiz divas in mind – it included a spotlessly clean, top quality bathroom with a shower area. The three women enjoyed this together and then towelled off, returning just on the hour as the others come back from the lounge and bar area of the complex of recording studios.

The producer, sound engineer and other musicians drew silent sighs of relief as they immediately noted the change in Darya – her posture, her expression, her mood and – most vital of all – her singing voice. She was brimming over with vivacity and enthusiasm, and had – to the others’ puzzlement – a tendency to catch the eyes of Sandi or Beth, and then break down into happy giggles. The atmosphere was now completely different, and if anyone – anyone who knew the backing singers’ sexual orientation – guessed the reason, they certainly weren’t going to risk spoiling things by enquiring into it.

After this, the recording sessions went ten times better than before. That evening, the black girls took Darya back to their spacious downtown loft flat, telling the others that she needed some company to keep the good mood going. They had a sensuous threesome night on the large mattress that lay on the floor of their spare bedroom for this very purpose, and they all enjoyed themselves so much that this became the permanent arrangement for the remaining four weeks of recording.

Darya went from strength to strength, with her voice at its richest and most soulful. After a few days, she began contributing ideas and even gained the confidence to submit a few of her own songs – which, by the end, turned out to be some of the best material on a superb Grammy-winning album. One of her songs, which inspired the album title and became a world-wide no. 1 hit single, was ‘Open My Eyes, Open My Heart’. Darya had written this about a fortnight before the end of the recording sessions, sitting cross-legged at the foot of Beth’s and Sandi’s double-bed, wearing nothing apart from her acoustic guitar, whilst her two black lovers, equally naked after their latest three-way sexual bout, sat side by side at the other end, propped up against the pillows, clapping along and joining in at the chorus. The three of them knew the secret that the song was inspired by Darya’s discovery of her true sexual identity, and it was actually a thank-you to her female tutors in lesbianism, but the lyrics were not explicit and to the rest of the world it was just a beautiful love ballad.

After the mixing of the album was finished, Darya begged the girls to come along as the backing singers on her forthcoming world tour. The clinch was not so much the large fee which she offered (they were near the best in their field, after all, and used to that), but her promise that at every stop they would have a hotel room next to hers with a connecting door, and that the three of them would pull as much foreign pussy as they could get! The ‘Open My Heart’ tour went down in the annals of rock history, partly for its huge public success and critical acclaim, and partly for the sexual athletics of the three women – although the latter were only rumoured privately amongst industry insiders and never put in print. Along the way, the insatiable trio found willing female partners from amongst the hotel staffs, airline cabin crews, local press and television interviewers, and – discretely – the prettiest of the fans who clustered eagerly at the stage door hoping for a photograph with the star or her autograph; a lucky few got to eat her pussy or bend over and take her strap-on as well.

At the end of the tour, about nine months later, Beth and Sandi said a regretful farewell to Darya, as they had another contractual commitment – but the three would always remain friends, with cherished memories to share. Not long after this, Darya was contacted by one of the other members of her former girl group – Jo had been perhaps her closest friend amongst them, and was also the blonde with whom she had rubbed pelvis’s in that early eye-catching video. Although Darya’s departure had not caused a breach, their different schedules had put them on different continents for most of the time since, and they had hardly seen each other. Now, however, Jo had heard the industry gossip about Darya’s taste for girls, and when she visited the latter’s luxurious New York apartment she confessed to her own lesbianism – which she had, and still was, keeping firmly in the closet – and revealed that she had always been deeply attracted to Darya, but was scared to make an advance which might be rebuffed and end their friendship. Jo and Darya’s ‘catching-up session’ turned almost instantly into sensuous love-making, with Jo shivering in excited delight as Darya undressed her, unclasped her bra, kissed her breasts, drew her panties down, pushed her legs apart, and brought her beautiful face to the blonde’s pussy, sliding her tongue between her puckered labial lips. Darya had sown her wild oats on the tour and was ready for a more stable relationship, and the two friends became monogamous lovers. In Darya’s wake, Jo also successfully launched herself as a solo artist; when, four years later and now both well-established (Darya’s third album having swiftly gone platinum), they came out to the world, their civil marriage ceremony was the most star-studded event since Elton John’s. Beth and Sandi, with whom they enjoyed occasional foursome romps, were their principal witnesses.

If you enjoyed this, check out my other stories … you might like them too … (to find them, follow the author link at the top of this story)