Anja's Game Pt. 03

This is Part 03 of an ongoing series. For background, you should read parts 1and 2 before this one.

Part 03.

She went back and sat on the same bar stool again, and I went to join her. A crowd had gathered around her but she caught my eye and patted the stool next to her, giving me a meaningful smile. The crowd looked askance at me as I wiggled sinuously between them, but she just continued to humour them with smiles, appreciative thanks, and platitudes.

As the admirers gradually melted away, she turned to face me and placed her hands on my thighs, leaning forward and drawing me irresistibly into those sultry dark eyes.

It was definitely happening.

***

'Hey, Anja d'you fancy going to a pub gig, sat'day night? There's a band on at the 'Delphi and they are supposed to be brilliant. The lead singer is a sensation, apparently.'

My work colleague Gigi broke into my air of professional concentration, walking up to lean casually on my desk in much the same way Jun sometimes does. She looked equally sexy too, but that's as far as the similarity goes, because Gigi (short for Georgina, which she hates) is as straight as a die.

I know this to be true because I've tried to seduce her more than once; a couple of times at work, sober, and once at a party, drunk. Each time, I gave it my best shot, but to no avail.

'Leave it out, Anja, I'm not gay. Not even slightly.'....What a weirdo.

No, seriously, she's a good friend of mine, and I love her to bits, in an entirely (enforced) platonic way. In fact, other than my more sexual playmates, she's probably my best friend. We often go out shopping together, and sometimes go out to a movie or a gig; she is a bit of a rock chick and is always up to speed on the latest musical talent.

On this occasion, she had seen details of a new band that was gaining notoriety and quickly rising to fame. They had received a number of rave reviews in the music press and Gigi said we should catch them 'before they get too big'. They were playing at the Adelphi, a big rambling pub/hotel with a large concert room and bar at the rear, which was a favourite music venue of ours.

My interest in this band quickly jumped a couple of levels when I learned they were called 'Orchid Bliss' and saw the artwork on their publicity poster, which was an exaggerated representation of a barrita orchid, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a female vulva, with a drop of viscous liquid dripping from it. It was impossible to miss what it represented. It was to me anyway.

The imagery piqued my curiosity enough for me to have a look at their website -- not something I normally do before going to see a band -- and my interest rose further...

The band's line up was mixed-sex, with a male drummer and guitarist, and women on bass, keyboards and lead vocals, and they had only recently started to write and perform original songs. They had gained their following mostly by doing covers of songs by others, but the singer, who rejoiced in the stage name Della Delight, was apparently super-talented and able to cover numbers by both female and male-fronted bands.

I was impressed, but it was learning that Della was 'gay and single' that really got my attention. She looked a little chubby on the website pictures, but it can be hard to get an impression of someone from just still photos. She certainly looked sexy, and I couldn't wait to see -- and hear - what she was like in the flesh.

The night arrived and I started getting ready. The 'Delphi was a rowdy-crowd kind of place, usually full of all sorts of rockers and musos, so I dressed accordingly, in a pair of well-fitted jeans, and a black vest top. I put a black, studded, Alice band in my hair, and wore a silver chain necklace with a lesbian symbol, clearly displayed right above my cleavage, so that no-one would be in any doubt. This necklace often gets attention from women, even straight women, who seem intrigued by it, but also, strangely, from some men, who just don't seem to believe it.

My underwear was black and sheer, quite plain really, but still sexy on me, and I wore a pair of fairly high heels because I don't like to feel short in a crowd.

I deliberately chose quite extreme make up, with black mascara and smoky eye-shadow -- an amazing combination with my bright blue eyes -- and lipstick in a very dark shade, to give me a hint of goth. It looked pretty stunning in the mirror, and I was pleased to note that the sheer bra and vest top allowed a subtle hint of nipple to show. I was ready.

The doors of the gig room at the 'Delphi didn't open until 9pm, so I met Gigi in a pub around the corner for a drink or two. She was sat at the bar, looking every inch the rock chick, and already being chatted up by a tall blond guy - a good-looking blond guy, as far as guys go, and I could tell she was enjoying the attention, but her eyes went wide when I walked up.

'Anja, babe, you look fab! Wow.'

I grinned and put my finger under her chin to close her mouth. My look was obviously jaw dropping, because the guy's mouth was hanging open as well.

'Oh, sorry... Anja, this is Josh. Josh, my friend Anja.'

He closed his mouth, put his eyes back in, and gave me a shy smile as he shook my hand, rather formally. His eyes drifted, inevitably, to my cleavage and he spotted the lesbian symbol necklace, but i was pleased he didn't say anything about it. So many men can't resist making some 'witty' comment when they see it and I wasn't in the mood.

'Well, best get back to my mates. Nice to meet you Gigi, and... Anna?

'Anja,' I corrected him.

'Sorry, Anja. Catch you later maybe Gigi?

'Yeh, see you at the gig.'

I looked her up and down as he shuffled off. She really looked the part, with skin tight black jeans, a pair of platform-heel ankle boots, a t-shirt with a Twisted Sister logo, and a denim jacket. Her hair was scraped back into a tight ponytail and she was wearing a winged eyeliner style, like Amy Winehouse used to wear. It was a striking look.

'I'm not going to tell you how gorgeous you look G, because it would only go to your head.'

She chuckled and ordered two more drinks, then said 'Scuse me, I need a pee,' and she slid off the stool and headed to the loo. I watched her go, admiring her bum in those tight jeans. She really has a great pair of buns.

A couple of drinks later, we headed to the 'Delphi for the gig. Gigi was immediately buttonholed at the bar by Josh again, but I wasn't bothered by that: I was looking everywhere for a glimpse of Della. The stage was all set up but there was no sign of the band. I made small talk with Josh and Gigi, feeling a bit like a 'gooseberry', but then the lights suddenly went down, and there she was, picked out by a spotlight on the front of the stage. She almost whispered into the mic, 'Shh, don't make a fuss, it's only Orchid Bliss,' and the stage immediately erupted into a blaze of light and sound.

Wow. Impact.

From that first instant, I was transfixed. The rest of the room faded out as Della completely dominated my attention.

Her stage presence was extraordinary. Yes, as the website pics had suggested, she was chubby, almost Rubenesque, with full thighs and bum, and large, bouncing breasts but she was taller than I'd imagined. She was a whole lotta woman and she absolutely radiated confidence, energy, and sex-appeal.

Her black hair was long and wild, and she was wearing a stunning, skin tight, mid-thigh purple dress, which hugged every curve and ripple of her full figure, with white fishnets, making her big fleshy thighs look positively mouth-watering, and strappy purple stilettos. Her lipstick was also purple and her heavy eye makeup accentuated her already dark sultry eyes.

It was a sensationally sexy look, bordering on slutty, and boy did she make the most of it. A few times, when she wasn't actually singing, she turned her back to the audience and stood with her legs apart, swaying from side to side and stamping her high-heels, making the flesh of her bum, hips and thighs wobble spectacularly. She was flaunting her full, fleshy figure. Vaunting its sexiness. She knew the power of that jiggle and she used it freely.

Her tits were also hypnotic: She was obviously bra-less, despite the startling size of her bust, and I was captivated by the way they were always on the move; swinging as she swayed, bouncing when she jumped, and rippling when she stomped. She was truly a feast for the eyes, and the very embodiment of self-assurance. I was spellbound.

But that was only the visuals. The music was equally stupefying. Her voice was spectacular; she had a range of both notes and tones the like of which I've never heard in my life. Beautifully mellifluous.

She was able to do the plaintive, sorrowful tones of Portishead's Beth Gibbons as well as the power of Tina Turner, or Heart's Ann Wilson. And, as if that wasn't amazing enough, she also made a pretty good fist of covering male vocalists like Led Zeppelin's Robert Plant and Muse's Matt Bellamy. She even managed a pretty good version of Pink Floyd's 'The Great Gig in The Sky', Clare Torry's wordless masterpiece, and one of the most heart-rending and powerful female vocals ever.

Her voice transported me and, dirty-minded girl that I am, I couldn't help imagining what her orgasms sounded like. God knows, the sound of her was enough to make me wet on its own. I simply had to find out, but how?

She was actually singing the Heart song 'Alone' as I was wondering 'How do I get you alone' but I knew it would be difficult in a room full of admirers...

'Thanks all. We are going to take a break now. Back soon.'

She headed to the bar and grabbed a stool at the far end, but she was immediately surrounded by breathless fans. I hovered nearby as she fielded questions and compliments, and she did meet my gaze once but it was only a fleeting moment. Dammit. No chance to turn on the headlights.

But then, she excused herself and headed to the ladies. It was an opportunity I didn't miss, and I followed close behind. We ducked into adjacent cubicles and I emerged just after her. The initial rush-to-the-loo that always happens in a gig interval had passed now and we were alone. I walked up behind her, as she was washing her hands, and managed to catch and hold her gaze in the mirror as I walked up to the basin next to her.

'Hi, I'm sure you've heard this a million times, but you have an amazing voice' I said, feeling a little lame, but she smiled at me in the mirror as I leaned forward and my lesbian symbol dangled from my neck.

'Thanks, I'm sure you have heard this a million times, but you have amazing eyes.'

We both laughed, a little self-consciously, and studied each other in the mirror.

Close up, she was even more arresting than on stage, if that were possible. Her eyes were completely unlike mine, but no less stunning. They were darker than dark brown, almost like a Betazoid alien from Star Trek, and they were mesmeric. There was a smouldering depth to them and a shiver-making frisson passed between us as we looked at each other.

Her scent was an earthy, aphrodisiacal mixture of sweet stage sweat and musk. It was so physical and sensuous it made my head swim. I desperately wanted to seduce her, but for once I was tongue-tied. Her sexual aura was overwhelming. Luckily, she still possessed the power of speech.

'What's your name, honey?'

'Anja.'

'I'm Della.'

'Yes, I know.' I said and we burst out laughing.

'Join me for a drink later Anja.'

It wasn't a question or a request, it was an order. I tried to keep the thrill out of my voice.

'Yeh, sure.' I smiled.

'Well, best get back to my adoring fans... Nice necklace by the way...' She gave me a lascivious wink and then click-clacked back out into the hubbub.

I did a little dance, and stamped my feet with excitement, making my own fleshy bits jiggle, though nothing like so impressively as Della's, then I regained my composure and went back for the second half of their set.

I stood very close to the stage this time so that I could look up at her as she commanded the room, it was so thrilling, especially as she kept catching my eye and giving me a pout, a glimpse of tongue, or my very own flash of her hold-up stocking tops. Now, she was performing for ME. God, my pants were getting very moist indeed.

By midnight, they were on their second encore, which was Blondie's 'Call Me' and they had the whole place bopping. Della was as animated and impressive as ever, her damp dress clinging even more and her wild black hair even wilder, sticking in ringlets to the wet skin of her cheeks and neck. My God she was sexy. No stripper could be more erotic than this woman, on this stage, right now. I was blown away.

The song ended, and the stage lights went out abruptly. When the main lights came up again, there was no sign of the band. They had escaped backstage, and I had a momentary irrational panic as I thought she'd gone and left me high and dry. Well, not dry, obviously.

But no, after 5 minutes they emerged to mingle and soak up their richly-deserved plaudits.

Della went back and sat on the same stool at the end of the bar, and I went to join her. A crowd, both male and female, gathered around her again, and some of the girls definitely thought they had a chance, but she caught my eye and patted the stool next to her, giving me a meaningful smile. The crowd looked askance at me - daggers in some cases - as I wiggled sinuously between them, and sat next to Della, while she just continued to humour them with smiles, appreciative thanks, and platitudes.

As the crowd of admirers gradually melted away, she turned to face me, placed her hands on my thighs and gazed at me, drawing me irresistibly into those sultry dark eyes.

It was definitely happening.

She leaned forward with the most gorgeously horny 'kiss me' face and I didn't hesitate for a second. We had a delicious, salacious, sexual kiss and, my God, she was almost as good a kisser as she was a singer. The sexuality just poured out of her. My heart was thumping. My legs were weak. My pussy was yearning. I was bewitched.

'So, Anja, I have a room upstairs. D'you want to come up with me? You can stay the night - though I can't promise you any sleep.'

I almost screamed with exultation. She had me. 100%. I was powerless to resist her -- and why would I? And to think, I thought I was the predator.

'I'd love to,' I kissed her again, 'Just let me tell my friend...' I looked around for Gigi, just in time to see her leaving with tall, blond Josh, blowing me a kiss and waving. I waved back, with a grin, then turned my attention back to Della.

'Come on,' she said, and we walked out, into the hotel, collecting her room key on the way. I was still noticing things I hadn't spotted about her. I'd seen the lesbian symbol tattooed on her right shoulder, but I hadn't noticed the image on her left shoulder of two fingers in a V-sign with a female mouth and tongue between them. A very risqué lesbian image.

As we walked up the stairs, I felt the need to make conversation, so I asked her about her name; 'I'd love to know what your real name is, cos it surely isn't Della Delight. I mean, you are a delight, but that can't be your name.'

She chuckled slightly.

'Well it is Della, short for Daniela, but my surname is actually De Lenta. I'm Italian. You can see where 'delight' came from, can't you?'

'Oh, yes!' I replied, looking at her, and I could certainly see where delight was GOING to come from.

As soon as she closed the door of her room behind us, she pressed me up against it and kissed me like she had been saving her passion up for years. It was one of those wet, hungry, saliva and lipstick kisses, and I was just melting into her as she pressed her hot body against me, almost enveloping me in her soft curves.

I loved the fact that her dress was still damp with stage sweat, and the sickly-sweet smell of her.

'Oh fuck, performing makes me so horny' she groaned, and she pulled down the strap of her dress and lifted one of her huge breasts up to my face so I could suck it. We shared her big erect nipple, savouring it's salty taste as our tongues danced around it. She wriggled her other arm out of the dress, exposing both breasts and she lifted them up with both hands so I could bury my face in her damp, slightly briny cleavage.

Her breasts were magnificent, but I was overcome with pussy-lust now, and I slid down her body until I was kneeling on the floor in front of her. She stripped off the dress in one easy, fluid motion, leaving her in just gorgeous white lace knickers, her fishnet hold ups, and those strappy purple stilettos, which she kept on for now -- obviously for the visual effect.

I held her at arm's length by her soft hip flesh so I could look at her, and she stood, legs apart, and hands on hips as I took her in; those mouth-watering thighs, the womanly swell of her belly, and her magnificent breasts. She was smiling down at the look of rapture on my face.

'Will I do?' She asked.

I couldn't speak. I just gulped. After that mind-blowing stage performance, all the knicker-moistening jiggles, the inescapable sexuality of her voice, and the shiver-making frisson in the ladies' loo, here I was, with her, in her bedroom, on my knees and about to taste the very core of her. I was almost overcome.

She stepped close to me, put her hands on my head, and just gently rubbed her damp panty crotch against my dry, slightly parted lips. I inhaled her aroma, strong and piquant, as she rotated her hips against me, smearing my mouth with her heady liquors. Even through her panty crotch I could feel the almost visceral fleshiness of her pussy lips. I was in for a treat.

She pulled back, pushed her pants down and stepped elegantly out of them, revealing her neatly trimmed bush and her extremely long, protruding inner lips, glistening with her juice. Some women would be embarrassed or bashful about having such extremely prominent labia, but not Della. She took hold of them with her fingertips and stretched them out like wings, saying 'What about these babies? Bet you can't wait to suck these.'

She was right. My mouth (and my pussy) watered at the sight of them. I wanted her on my face, and I kicked off my shoes and lay down on the thick carpet, wiggling my tongue to give her a hint.

'Oo, saucy.' She said, then she stood astride me and slowly lowered those succulent, fleshy flaps to my face. I took them hungrily into my mouth and sucked them, revelling in their texture and the slightly acrid taste of her post-performance pussy. Gorgeously pungent. I loved that.

She thrust her wet flesh up and down on my face and I eventually found her large sinewy clit and began sucking it, determinedly controlling her bucking by wrapping my arms around her thighs, squeezing the hold-up bands of her fishnets against my ears as I ate her.

Soon she started moaning, the sound of her breathless yet syrupy tones only adding to my ardour.

'Ohh Anja, that's delicious babe. Eat me, yeahhh, oh jeez that's so fucking good. Uh, uh, oohh, oh, oh fuuck.

I put everything I knew into eating her, loving the wonderful fleshiness of her, feeling her stockinged thighs clamping my head and her weight pressing me down into the deep pile carpet. It was a phenomenally sensuous experience. For her too, judging by the sounds she was making. So fucking horny. I could come just listening to her.

Eventually, she cried out, an emotional, almost mawkish sob, grabbing handfuls of my hair as she came, and a divine dribble of slightly tangy juice trickled into my mouth. Mmm, moreish.

She collapsed on top of me for a while, her breasts pressing softly against the top of my head, then she got to her feet and stood astride me.

'Take my shoes off -- with your teeth' she said, bossily. Della obviously liked to be in charge, and I was fine with that. I was so much in her thrall that I was happy to be hers to play with. For tonight, anyway.