Claire pulled back to breathe, a sticky thread of saliva hanging from her delectable lips to the end of his dick. “OK, let me know when you’re close,” she said once she’d taken a breath.
It didn’t take Frankie long to come once she began to tightly bob up and down on him , making sure she swallowed his cock until her nose was pressed into his wiry greying pubes. In fact her timing was perfect: he began spurting copiously whilst on a down-stroke so that she could feel his salty spunk liberally coating her throat.
Once Frankie’s shuddering and groaning had subsided, she allowed his deflating cock to slip out of her mouth.
“Oh, yeah, babe, that was fucking fantastic. Make sure you gargle with any that’s left,” he suggested.
Claire shrugged, licked him clean of the last few drops of spunk and turned her head back up to do as he’d asked. Luckily she hadn’t swallowed all his cum yet and so she was able to gargle what was left of Frankie’s rank jism for a few minutes, until it was all gone.
Once she had swallowed it all, she sat back on her haunches. “Thanks, Frankie. I think it feels better already!” she said gratefully.
Frankie patted her hand. “No problem, honey. Just remember, I’m here for you,” he said kindly. Claire felt a warm glow inside. How lucky she was that Frankie was such a caring man.
Over the next few days, Claire visited Frankie regularly always starting the day with lubricating her throat, a practice repeated twice more during the day. Luckily for Claire he always seemed to be able to produce a considerable amount of spunk and appeared to be perfectly happy for her to fellate him repeatedly, despite the obvious inconvenience for him and the risk of his girlfriend finding out.
After a week of practice sessions during which Frankie generously held her exposed breasts to improve her unique sound, Claire asked Frankie when she would be ready to properly record a song.
“Well, honey,” he said as she knelt in front of him for her final throat lubrication of the day, “I think we could probably start on a song which I think is perfect for you. It’s one I wrote myself for you and it’s called ‘Make me come (let’s sixty-nine all night long)’. We can start to record it tomorrow if you want.”
Claire couldn’t believe it. He’d even written a song for her! Without thinking she jumped up, her big bare boobs bouncing boisterously, and kissed him full on the lips in grateful excitement. In response, Frankie’s hands slipped around her to squeeze her bottom and he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She allowed him to snog her and feel her bum for a couple of minutes (after all he had written a song for her) before pulling away and kneeling back down to suck him off, or rather lubricate her throat. She even kept her blowjob going for a lot longer than usual, keeping him on the brink of ejaculation for a good half an hour, just as an extra special thank you.
After Frankie had eventually squirted his gunk down her throat, she licked him clean appreciatively before standing up.
“Can I have a look at the lyrics?” she said eagerly.
“Sure, darling,” Frankie said contentedly, zipping himself up.
Claire had a look at the sheet he handed to her and sang the first verse to a virtually random tune.
“# Ooh, baby, I love the way you touch me with your lips. # You make me moist with lust when you kiss me on my nips. # Ooh, honey, I love to touch you with my mouth. # You feel as hard as steel when I go down south.”
“Wow,” she commented, “it’s a bit, erm, racy!”
“Don’t worry, sugar. It’s going to be a huge hit! I can see the video now!”
Claire closed her eyes briefly, allowing herself to imagine an MTV video of a sunny beach full of hunky young men dancing around her as she gyrated her bikini-clad body whilst singing. She could hardly believe this was all really happening for her!
She felt so grateful to Frankie that she kissed him again, slightly dislodging his wig, although he didn’t notice.
That night Claire read over the full lyrics in secret, not wanting Danny to know what she was up to. He had always been overly protective of her, for some reason always assuming that she would be exploited if he didn’t watch out for her. Well, she was looking forward to seeing his face when she had recorded a hit song and had a record deal.
The next morning, Claire was back in Frankie’s studio, practising the new song after another long slow grateful throat lubrication session.
Frankie had taken her aback when she had arrived with some amazing news.
“I have a surprise for you. This afternoon we’re going to a proper recording studio to lay this track down! I’ve even got a few backing musicians so we need a full size studio. And if it sounds as amazing as I expect it to then we’ll be approaching record companies to see if we can get you a deal!” he’d said.
Claire had been so excited that she’d even allowed Frankie to grab her by her long red ponytail whilst he forcefully throat-fucked her.
Slightly nervously she’d been preparing all morning, repeatedly singing to the music Frankie played for her.
“Claire, that sounds amazing,” he said eventually, letting go of her full fat tits which he had been fondling to improve her sound. “The only thing we need to do now is record some moans to go before the final verse. Do you think you can moan into this microphone for me?”
Claire nodded and began oohing and aahing on his cue.
After a while, Frankie stopped her. “Claire, baby, I need more from you than that! Come on, darling. You’re making mad passionate love. I want you to scream your desire for me! Let’s try again.”
Claire did her best to pretend she was being thoroughly shafted but she obviously wasn’t putting enough into it because Frankie stopped her once again.
“No, no, no. We’ve got to get this right otherwise we might not be able to record this afternoon. Look why don’t you actually touch your pussy while you moan? That way it’ll sound a lot more real. Go on!”
Claire was slightly embarrassed but she understood the need. She was already topless and so slipped off her white miniskirt, keeping her leopard-print stilettos on, to reveal a tiny white g-string and her black stocking tops.
“Go on, honey,” Frankie urged her. “Take them off,” he ordered, pointing at her pants.