Pete was a guitarist, tall and almost cadaverously pale and thin. Jez, a short black man, was carrying a bass guitar, and Ed, who looked Chinese and was more than a little overweight, was the keyboard player.
Claire greeted them all and then said hello to Nigel, the incredibly young-looking and pimply sound engineer, causing him to blush shyly.
In a surprisingly short time, Frankie had arranged matters so that they were ready for the first run-through of the song and Claire entered the booth, ready to sing her heart out.
As Claire sang she noticed the musicians looking at each other in a puzzled way as they played. Even Nigel was slack-jawed in amazement at her voice.
She came stumbling to a halt, suddenly very self-conscious. “What’s wrong?” she asked plaintively.
Nigel spoke to her via microphone from the studio. “Erm, well, that didn’t sound too good, really,” he mumbled apologetically too her, blushing once more.
Claire looked to Frankie and suddenly realised what had happened. She called him over.
“Frankie, it’s because you’re not holding my boobs! You’ll have to squeeze them while I sing, otherwise my voice won’t be at its best. Remember!”
“Oh, yeah, babe. Sorry, I forgot. Why I don’t I come in there with you. Go on; get those gorgeous colossal tits out.”
“Are you sure?” Claire asked in consternation. “In front of all these strangers!” she said, feeling strangely embarrassed.
“It’s fine; they’re pros. They won’t even bat an eyelid!”
Claire wasn’t entirely convinced but pulled off her top and unfastened her bra, releasing her huge fat norks. She almost covered them up again at the gasps from the band and Nigel at the sight of her massive creamy freckled tits and pert high red nipples but by then Frankie had a good hold of them. She looked over to see Alf the caretaker leering at her openly.
“What’s he doing here?” she hissed to Frankie.
“Oh, um, he’s just making sure we look after the studio. Don’t mind him, honey, you just sing!”
Claire closed her eyes and sang with as much passion as she could. This time she could feel herself hitting all the right notes as she belted out the bawdy song.
“# Make me come, baby, make me come. # Let’s sixty-nine all night long. # Let’s sixty-nine all night long. # Let’s sixty-nine all night long…”
She finished the chorus rousingly and opened her eyes.
Everyone was still staring at her but this time, it seemed to her, with admiration.
“How was I?” she asked, Frankie’s hands falling away as she walked out of the booth.
“Wow!” said one of the band members followed by a further expressions of approval from the other men, although most of them still seemed to be staring at her gigantic firm knockers.
“Baby, you were awesome!” Frankie enthused, putting his arm around her trim waist and pulling her close to him whilst patting her arse familiarly. “Wasn’t she boys?”
“She’s amazing,” Nigel said loudly blushing like a beetroot when Claire looked up at him and smiled gratefully.
They recorded the song three more times over the next hour, Frankie manically fondling her vast flawless breasts whilst she sang. Eventually, Frankie and Nigel agreed that they had enough material to mix a final version.
Claire was happier than she could ever remember. She even gave a hug and a kiss to all the band members and Nigel, only realising that she was still topless when Jez reached up to grope her mammoth bosom.
After tensing momentarily at this unwelcome attention, Claire relaxed and allowed him to have a good feel, only wincing slightly as he roughly pinched her stiff nipples. After all he had played the bass beautifully in what we sure to her hit single.
After this all the men made sure they had a good feel, even Alf the smirking janitor, who slipped his tongue into her mouth while groping her, causing Claire to cough in disgust at his foul smoker’s breath.
Only Nigel hesitated, obviously very shy in Claire’s presence. Claire, charmed by his sweet coyness, grabbed his hands and put them to her chest to make sure he got a good handful as he hugged her and even good-naturedly ignored his obvious erection which was pressing insistently against her flat sleek belly.
Once everyone had had a thank you cuddle, Claire went back into the recording booth to get dressed while Frankie had a discussion with all five men.
Claire couldn’t really hear what was being deliberated but she could tell Frankie was arguing with them about something.
Once clothed, she went out to join them. “Is anything wrong, Frankie?”
Frankie tried to tell her everything was fine but was interrupted by Pete, the guitarist. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong! Frankie was supposed to pay us but says he ain’t got the fucking cash!” Several voices agreed.
“It’s OK, darling,” Frankie attempted to reassure her. “You go and wait outside while I sort this out the boys.”
Claire was concerned now. What if they lost the recording because Frankie hadn’t any money! She didn’t have much cash with her so couldn’t help. She could see her place in pop music history disappearing before her very eyes!
Claire waited in the music room for a few minutes before Frankie called her back into the studio.
There was an air of expectation in the room; Claire felt slightly uncomfortable at the hungry male eyes which immediately settled on her long legs, tight bum and large rack as she entered.
Frankie leant in close to talk to her. “Honey, I’ve made a bit of a miscalculation about paying the boys. I thought I had a few weeks but it turns out they all want to be paid right now. The only thing is it’ll take a few days to get the cash. So unless you can get hold of one and a half grand quickly…”
Claire shook her head in alarm. One and a half thousand pounds! She could ask Danny but he would want to know why and she didn’t want to reveal her activities to him just yet.
“I thought not,” Frankie continued. “That’s a real shame, sugar. That recording was just perfect. I guess we’ll just have to leave it and hope they don’t erase it all before I can raise the funds.”
Claire gasped, her hands grasping in consternation at her magnificent chest. “Oh, no, Frankie! We can’t let that happen!”
Frankie shrugged. “Sorry, love. Unless you can think of some way of persuading them…”
Claire looked up at them. Apart from Nigel, they all looked angry but they were all, without exception, staring at her long curvy body.
A thought occurred to her. “Frankie, maybe they’ll be satisfied if I let them feel my boobs again? I’ll even take my skirt off and let them touch my bum,” she suggested.
Frankie raised his eyebrows so high she could see them over his dark glasses. “Now there’s an idea! Let me have a word with them and we’ll see what we can do.”
He had a whispered conversation with the others whilst Claire looked on anxiously.
After a few minutes, Frankie turned back to her, his wig slightly askew.