Della does the "Delphi"

This is a redux of Anja's Game Part 3, but seen from Della's perspective.

***

Performing always turns me on. I love being up there, strutting my stuff, shaking my buns, and soaking up the attention. A shrinking violet I aint; I'm a big beautiful woman and proud of it, and I use my sexuality freely. In fact, I revel in it. When I'm on stage, singing, I feel a tremendous sexual power that is quite intoxicating.

I'm tall (5ft 9in) and voluptuous, with very large breasts (G-cup) and plenty of flesh in all the right places, and I mean ALL the right places. I absolutely love being a full-figured woman and have never had the slightest desire to be a skinny girl (though I quite like a skinny girl, in certain circumstances). Just don't ever call me fat unless you want eviscerating.

My hair and eyes are strikingly dark (almost black) and I have honey-coloured skin -- all thanks to my parents, who are both Italian. I was actually born there, but my parents moved to the UK when I was a baby, to work in the recording industry.

My stage image is deliberately sexy; after all, if you've got it, why not flaunt it? I tend to wear figure-hugging dresses or short skirts, always with stockings and high-heels, and I never wear a bra on stage, despite the size of my assets. I'm lucky in that they aren't the least bit saggy, and support themselves quite nicely. If my mum's tits are anything to go by, they are quite likely to continue to do so for a while yet, too.

This overtly provocative look obviously gets me loads of attention from both men and women, but it's only the latter I'm interested in, because I'm a firmly committed lesbian. When I'm up on stage, it's solely the girls I'm performing for. Yes, the boys might have their tongues hanging out, but only female tongues will be tasting my delights, which reminds me...

Let me introduce myself. I'm Della Delight, lead singer of a band called Orchid Bliss. We are a band of three girls and two boys; there's Chris on drums, Dougie on guitars, Gina on bass, Carrie on keyboards/synthesisers, and me on lead vocals and occasionally violin.

We started out as a covers band, doing our own versions of numbers from a wide range of different artists and this went down really well and quickly gained us a reputation and a growing fan-base but, more recently, Carrie and Gina have discovered a talent for songwriting and our first single is in the pipeline. We certainly seem to be on an upward trajectory, and I don't think our first album of original songs will be very far off.

As for me, I'd much rather be on the road than in the studio. I'm a natural-born show-off and I suffer withdrawal if I don't get to shake my booty at least a couple of times a week, and I mean in bed as well as on stage. By the end of a gig I'm always absolutely gagging for a bit of 'lezbo lovin' and since we have been gigging regularly, I have found I have an insatiable appetite for groupies. Having the opportunities obviously helps, and I never seem to have any trouble picking someone up at virtually every show we do. In fact, I sometimes have a choice.

The number of lezbo groupies I've gone through in the last couple of years is mind-boggling. In fact, it's all become a bit of a blur, but there's one who stands head and shoulders above all the others. One I will never forget, no matter how many other willing women I fuck.

We were booked to play at a venue called the Adelphi (known locally as the 'Delphi) a fairly nondescript venue in a fairly nondescript northern town. It's a modest hotel with a concert room at the rear, and quite popular in the area. Our own popularity had been rising rapidly and we almost cancelled, fearing the place's 150-person capacity had become too small for us, given that we had recently filled a couple of places twice the size. I'm bloody glad, we didn't.

We arrived late in the afternoon with Jez and Stu, our biggest fans and unofficial roadies, and we had the stage set up by 6pm so the seven of us retired to the adjoining hotel bar for a 'few scoops'. I always like going for a bevy with Jez and Stu: they are nice lads, and fun company, but whenever I'm around, it's funny to watch them trying very hard not to look at my tits. Carrie and Gina are both attractive too, but they hardly get a look-in because my boobs hold a special magnetic attraction. I don't mind. Why should I? It's nice to have such allure.

As gig time approached, I went up to my hotel room to get ready -- something that always starts the arousal ball rolling, and it would roll all the way through to midnight. I put on a pair of strappy purple stilettos, and did my lipstick and nails (on both fingers and toes) to match, then applied very dark, heavy eye makeup for the ultimate sultry look. I chose a pair of white fishnet hold-up stockings which I thought were beautifully slutty -- I Iove the way they show off the plumpness of my thighs - and topped it off with a very figure-hugging purple lycra dress, which came down to mid thigh. Not quite mini, but short enough for me to be able to give a flash of stocking tops, whenever I wanted.

I have, from time to time, considered going knickerless, but I've always seen sense in the end. With a high stage, that could be just too obscene. Instead, I put on a pair of white lacy panties, which were pretty, but also had an unusually thick, towelling-lined gusset. I find the absorbency quite useful.

I admired my outfit in the mirror. The dress had a deep, plunging v-neck (no bra remember) and it showed off an impressive amount of breast. I bent forward, showing off my amazing cleavage, and I swung my body from side to side as I would do numerous times on stage. I noticed with satisfaction that the dress was only just able to contain my bountiful boobs. I would have to be a little careful if I were to avoid a 'wardrobe malfunction', although that would be a good way to further increase my notoriety...

Even if I say so myself, it was an awesome look and I gave a little giggle as noticed my nipple bumps becoming prominent. I was turning myself on!

My hair is about bra-strap length, and I left it loose and wild, so I could throw it around a bit and create a rock chick vibe when I needed to. I was ready to rumble.

Right up to mic time, we kept ourselves hidden in the little ante room behind the stage, only emerging in the dark when the house lights went down. I made my way to the mic, just as the spotlight came on me, and I whispered what has now become our standard opening line;

'Shh, don't make a fuss, it's only Orchid Bliss,' and the guys launched straight into The Cranberries' 'Zombie'. Now, I can't really emulate Dolores O'Riordan -- she was unique - but, as with everything, I make the song mine, and give it the full Della treatment. It seems to meet with a lot of approval.

I was soon into my stride, swaying, stomping and using the full power of my body, swinging my tits from side to side jiggling my bum and thighs, and flinging my hair around like a 1970s rock god. The crowd were lapping it up, which always gives me an incredible buzz.

I love singing. It gives me a feeling of release, of power, and expression. I think the voice is an elemental thing, and it definitely has a sexuality to it. In fact, in a sexual situation, being able to express my pleasure vocally is a major element. When I've occasionally been in a place where I'm having a quick wank somewhere where I have to keep quiet, having to suppress my voice really takes the edge off my orgasm.

Anyway, suffice to say, when I'm on stage singing I definitely find it subtly horny, especially having a crowd containing lots of tasty-looking women gazing up at me and, I imagine, being transported both visually and aurally. I really hoped I was making their pants wet. I love that thought.

The last number we did before the break was Heart's 'Alone', which is one of my favourite classic rock songs to sing. Anne Wilson's vocal is dreamy and, you may remember, she is also a woman with a 'fuller figure'. I always thought it was a shame she covered herself up in loose clothes and big coats though. I always wanted to say to her, 'C'mon Anne, flaunt it!'

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

I headed to the bar, through a throng of elated, grinning people, applauding madly. This kind of response always thrills me to the core, but I try to keep my cool, smile sweetly, and show my appreciation in a subtle way. Most people were standing, so I easily found a stool at the bar and ordered a drink. People gathered around me, as always, showering me with questions and gushing compliments, and I tried to genially show my gratitude, and answer the less impertinent queries.

In a crowd like this, you don't tend to notice individuals, but then suddenly, POW! There she was. It was just a brief passing moment of eye-contact, but what eyes! From further back in the crowd, my soul was pierced by a pair of the most gorgeous, lucent blue eyes. I was so startled I was reluctant to look again. I tried to focus on others, closer to me, but I had been well and truly zapped.

After a while, I decided that the usual interval crowd in the toilets would be dissipating by now, so I excused myself and headed for the loo. Sure enough, it was fairly quiet and I escaped into a handily empty cubicle before I could be collared by anyone. I heard someone enter the adjacent cubicle but I stayed put long after I'd finished, until all seemed quiet, before I emerged. I was washing my hands when she came out of her cubicle and walked up behind me. I looked up in the mirror and it was her... the one with the amazing eyes! I smiled at her in the mirror, feeling my heart rate disconcertingly rising, just from catching her eye again.

'Hi, I'm sure you've heard this a million times, but you have an amazing voice' she said. Yes, it was something I'd heard many times before but, delivered by her it was surprisingly pleasing. I responded, slightly flippantly, but not insincerely.

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

We both laughed, slightly diffidently, and looked at each other in the mirror.

She was amazingly beautiful. Apart from those dazzling eyes, she had high cheekbones, poised perfectly above cheeks that were just slightly hollow, and an absolutely gorgeous mouth. She had a perfect Cupid's bow top lip, and a much fuller bottom lip -- absolutely my favourite mouth shape -- and a dainty pointed chin. She was stunning and, joy of unbelievable joys, she was wearing a lesbian symbol on a silver chain necklace, dangling tantalisingly above a modest but very shapely cleavage. I was thrumming with excitement!

As if that were not enough, her voice was seductively throaty, and hovered somewhere between mezzo-soprano and contralto. I wanted her to speak more. I wanted to hear her sing, I wanted to hear her orgasm.

We were washing our hands in slow motion, and an electric charge was passing between us as we looked at each other. The way she gazed at me, with pupils dilated, told me I was having a positive effect on her. I wanted to fuck her there and then, but the crowd were waiting for our second set. I needed to get her on the hook for later.

'What's your name, honey?'

'Anja.'

'I'm Della.'

'Yes, I know.' She said with a grin and we both burst out laughing.

'Join me for a drink later Anja.'

I voiced it like an order and she responded as I hoped.

'Yeh, sure,' she said, flashing me a meaningful look.

'Well, best get back to my adoring fans. Nice necklace by the way' and I walked out, as coolly as I could manage.

We launched into our second half, with me feeling even hotter and higher than usual. I saw that Anja was standing near the stage now and I was intoxicated with elation and sexual anticipation. I gave her a private show (well, as much as I could in a packed concert room) with all my best pouts, lots of lascivious tongue action and my full repertoire of provocatively sexy moves.

Of course, the rest of the crowd lapped it up as well, but I was really performing just for HER now. Everytime I looked at her, my sexual flames were fanned, and I couldn't help noticing she had some nice dance moves of her own too, sometimes mirroring what I was doing on stage. In a way, we were sexually flirting. It was amazingly powerful and stimulating.

The crowd were so into us that we had to come back for two encores but by midnight, we were doing what was definitely our last number - a jumping, unrestrained version of Blondie's 'Call Me' which would widen even Debbie Harry's eyes, and the whole place was bopping like it was 1999 (to paraphrase Prince).

We ended the song with a full-on, piledriver rock chord, and the stage lights went out, allowing us to escape backstage in darkness before the main lights came up again.

I was breathless and bathed in sweat, and the rest of the band were buzzing and wide eyed;

'Fuckin hell, Della, you were on fire tonight!' said Gina, and she was right, I was.

After 5 or 10 minutes I was a little more composed, and we emerged to mingle and soak up the inevitable plaudits. I nabbed the same stool at the end of the bar and a crowd, both male and female, gathered around me again. There were a lot of compliments, some starry-eyed men, and some girls who I definitely think were gay, or rapidly on the turn, but I caught Anja's eye and patted the stool next to me, inviting her to join me. This didn't go down well with some of my admirers but that was just too bad. She wiggled sinuously between them, showing off her amazing snake-hips and sat next to me, while I just continued chatting to those people who weren't now looking testily at Anja.

Gradually the crowd began to drift away, finally allowing me to give her my full attention. I'd decided by now that, by hook or by crook, I was having her tonight. I turned the stool so that I was facing her, and placed my hands on her thighs. Then, looking deep into those limpid blue eyes, I leaned forward to kiss her. She met me halfway and we had a delicious sexual kiss. Her mouth was every bit as soft and delicious as it looked, and she was a hell of a good kisser. Snogging her put butterflies in my belly. I had to have her, NOW.

'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 couldn't be any more direct than that now, could I?

There was a twinkle in her eye as she said, 'I'd love to,' and kissed me again, 'Just let me tell my friend...' She scanned the room and almost instantly waved to a woman who was on her way out of the door, then she turned back to me saying 'I'm all yours Della.' Magic words or what?

'Come on,' I said, and we walked out, through the hotel lobby to collect my key, then up the stairs to my room. On the way, she took it upon herself to ask me about my stage 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.'

I chuckled at the compliment, and the way it neatly softened the direct impudence of the question.

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

'Oh, yes!' she laughed, looking at me with new interest. Perhaps she was weighing up my Italianness...

I had the hots for her so bad, I could hardly get the key in the door quickly enough and as soon as we were in the room I pushed her up against the back of the door and kissed her hungrily, smearing saliva and lipstick all around our mouths as I pressed myself hard against her.

She smelled clean and perfumed, in contrast to my damp, salty stage sweat, but I was in the throes of a primal, animal desire, so it was fitting that my scent should be wild and primitive. I was so horny, I wanted to devour her and have her devour me, simultaneously. I pulled down the strap of my dress and lifted one of my tits up to her face so she could suck it and we shared my erect nipple, savouring its salty taste on both our tongues. It was delicious and I wriggled out of the other strap and lifted both breasts up in my hands, enveloping her face in the salty, sweaty valley of my cleavage.

She gorged on my tit flesh for a bit, but then slid down until she was kneeling in front of me, with her head almost trapped between my belly and the door. I pushed her head down further until she was sitting on the floor, stepping over her legs as she spread them for me. Now, she was right where I wanted her. I stripped off my damp dress over my head in one easy move, leaving me in just my white lace knickers, fishnet hold ups, and those sexy, strappy purple stilettos, which I kept on for now.

She pushed me back so I was at arm's length and she looked at me as I stood there in front of her, legs apart, and hands on hips. She was drinking in the sight of me and I was smiling down at the look of rapture on her face.

'Will I do?' I asked, archly.

She didn't speak. She just sat there gazing, her eyes shining, and ran her hands slowly and gently up and down my thighs. I could see her breasts rising and falling under her vest top as her breathing increased at the sight of me. It was exhilarating to have this effect on her, and it only served to intensify my ardour.

I stepped forward again and took her head in my hands, then I slowly and salaciously rubbed my wet panty crotch up and down against her slightly parted lips, making them glossy with my lube. She stayed perfectly still with her eyes closed, and savoured the sensation, inhaling deeply to take my aroma into her lungs. FUCK this was horny. I was almost overcome with a prurient desire, and rotated my hips against her in a brazen display of sexual ego, smearing her mouth and nose with my wetness.

I have extremely fleshy pussy lips, and I knew she would be able to feel them, even through my knickers, as they moulded slickly to her facial features. I was loving the feeling of giving her a gentle face-fuck like this, but I wanted to feel her lips on my cunt flesh. I wanted to show her my flaps and feel her tongueing them, as I knew she was aching to.

I pulled back and, steadying myself against the door, pushed my pants down and stepped out of them, revealing my sex in all its glory, my wet dangling lips protruding rudely from my trimmed pubes. I knew exactly what it looked like because I had admired it in the mirror loads of times during masturbation sessions. I took hold of those slippery lips with my fingertips and stretched them out like wings, displaying them to her, shamelessly; 'What about these babies? Bet you can't wait to suck on these.'

Her jaw dropped at the sight of them and, unexpectedly, she lay down on her back on the floor, kicking off her shoes and pointing to her mouth in an unmistakeable signal for me to sit on her face.

'Oo, that's saucy.' I said, and I stood astride her and slowly crouched until my lips caressed hers. She took them hungrily into her mouth and sucked them, groaning with lustful hunger as she savoured my taste, which must have been very pungent after what I had been doing for the last three hours.

I began to thrust my hips back and forth, sliding my syrupy wet flaps up and down her face, but then she found my clit and I immediately stopped and just let her suck on it for a while. She held me in place by wrapping her arms around my thighs, controlling my twitching spasms as the stimulation increased.

I was grunting and moaning, making sounds only a very select number of my fans have ever heard, and I encouraged her to just keep on doing what she was doing, which was exquisite.

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

She was certainly an enthusiastic cunt-eater, and an expert in the art of building up the pleasure. She knew exactly how to strike the perfect balance between sucking my lips, licking my clit and tonguing my hole. When to suck hard and when to just brush lightly with her lips. My pussy was loving it, and I was soon powerless to hold back my climax any longer... I came, sobbing hoarsely as I grabbed handfuls of her hair, and jerked violently against her face again and again in the throes of a long, and utterly sublime orgasm.