(Here is the next installment.  This story is based on real events in my life - but there is much artistic license taken and some of it is fiction and is my own kinky fantasy.  If anyone has or could provide pictures to go with the story or even drawings - that would be lovely.  I enjoy feedback.  Let me know what you would like to see happen to my heroine and her friends.  :) )

Chapter #4 – The Audition

Je veux vivre dans ce reve

UncleCharlie had dropped me off at this very non-descript hotel in Manhattan on 34thstreet sometime around 1:00 in the afternoon.   It was anovercast day, with a light drizzle of rain.  What a singer wears for audition is so important that I hadspent most of the morning on it.  Ihad finally decided on a modest knee-length dark green skirt, with a white silkblouse over which I had a dark green blazer.  There had been some debate about whether I should wearanything underneath.  My hostsfeeling that I should eschew panties and bra completely.  I compromised – white pantyhose withpanties, but no bra.  I figuredthat the blazer would cover my breasts and besides I am not very big on topanyway.  Then for good measure Iwore a scarf and the weather required that I also wear my long raincoat.  So here I was – very nervous as Iwalked through the lobby and up to the desk.

I stoodunnoticed for a moment, then an older woman looked up, what do you want,honey.”  “I…” I cleared my throat,“I have an appointment to see Mr. Villazon.” 

Shesmiled, “oh yes, down the hall to the conference room.”

I thankedher and turned to go.  “Good luck,dear,” she called after me.

I turnedand smiled.”

Iwandered down the hall and could hear music ahead of me.  Singers. 

I walkedup to a young Hispanic man at a desk, he looked up at me, “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I…I am Abigail Saunders.  I have anaudition at 2:00.”

He lookedat his list, “There you are. Please sign in here.  Andfill out this form.  You will givethis back to me before you go into your audition.  We are running a little late.  You can go down to room #147 to warm-up.  I will come and get you.”

I smiled,“Thank you.”  I took the form andheaded back down the hall to the practice room.  I looked at the form. A standard audition form – name, address, experience, education…..

I openedthe room.  It was a hotel room andthere was no piano.  I lay my pursedown and pulled out a pitch pipe and began to do my vocal warm-up exercises.

Finally aknock came, “Miss. Saunders, you are up next.”

“Thankyou,” I called.  I took a deepbreath.  Checked myself in themirror.  Fine, nothing out ofplace.  I fiddled with the scarfand the position of the blazer.  Ididn’t want it to be obvious that I was braless.

I leftthe room and turned in my form. Then I waited.

The dooropened.  And older man with a bigsmile came out and extended his hand. “You must be Abigail.  I amEduardo.  So nice to meet you.  I am looking forward to hearing yousing.”  Took my hand and thenhugged me and kissed me on the cheek. I returned the greeting, despite my nerves.

“It iswonderful to meet you too, sir. Thank you for this opportunity.”

“Come,sing!”  We walked together into theroom.

“This isour pianist, Kirsten.”  I walkedover to her and smiled, “Nice to meet you.”  I walked over to her and handed her my music.  She was a very beautiful, slenderwoman, with dark hair and a dark complexion.  I could not help but notice that she was also not wearing abra, but her breasts were much larger than mine and she also made no effort tohide this braless fact, unlike me. I walked to the center of the room.  Eduardo was seated at a table, alone.

“I willsing, “Je veux vivre dans ce reve “ from “Romeo et Juliette” by CharlesGounod.  I took a deep breath.  This was a bit of a risk for me.  I had learned this aria because I lovedit and had not really ever coached it. 

Kirstenbegan the waltz-like introduction and I started the trill and then into thesong.  It went well until the runsin the coda.  They turned intoslides and I had a little trouble with the final last high note.  Then it was over.

Silence.

“Interestingchoice of repertoire,”  came theMaestro’s voice.

Silence.

It was amistake to sing that aria.  I felttears welling up inside.

He walkedtowards me.  Perhaps he saw that Iwas on the verge of tears for he smiled and said, “you have a lovelyvoice.” 

“Thankyou.”

Gently hewent on, “did your teacher suggest work with you on that song?”

“No, I… Ilearned it on my own.”

“Ah,well, I do not want to be unkind, but you are not ready for that aria yet.  I am not sure you will ever be.  It is not in your fach.”  A tear appeared…

“Youshould not be so sensitive.  Youwill not make it as a professional singer if you do not develop some ballsAbigail.  Look, the aria does notsuit you.  You did not sing itbadly, but there are problems. Now, what else can you sing for me?  How about some Mozart?”

I wipedmy eyes.  “Yes, well, I can sing“”Deh vieni non tardar,’ or “Ah, ich füls.”

“Good,much better.  That is therepertoire I hear for you.” 

(Light,lyric, sobette --- yeuch!)

“Yes,sir.”

I lookedover at Kirsten, she already had the music up and started the introduction for“Deh vieni.”

It wentmuch better.

“That wasbeautiful.”  You have a wonderfulmusical sensitivity Abigail.  Icould not hear that in the Gound, because you were too focused on technique.  But in this I could hear yourstrengths. “

I nodded.

“I wantto work with you a little bit on breath. Please remove your jacket.” I flushed, but I removed it. I lay it over a chair trying not to move ina way that my braless state would be obvious.

“Let’svocalize..”  I began to run throughsome vocal exercises.  I felt hishands on me – one hand in the small of my back, the other he placed on mytummy.  “Now push out,” I knew whathe wanted and I did it.  “Good,again.”  He moved his hand aroundmy tummy.  His other hand slippeddown and cupped my ass.  I breathedin and kept singing. 

EmboldenedI suppose he moved the hand in front up and ran it over my breasts.  He smiled at me when he realized I wasbraless.  I blushed.

“Now,once more.”  I did it again.  And the hand slipped down and he ran itover my tummy my breasts and below my waist.”

“Good, wewould be happy to have you join us in Caracas.”  He said.  I wasblushing.  I looked at Kirsten, shewas smiling.  “Speak to Pedro onyour way out, he will give you the information you need.  See you in Caracas in about a month.“  He hugged me, tighter and kissedme again.  I picked up my jacket andleft.

I quicklyput on the jacket when I got outside. I spoke to Pedro and then excused myself and went to the ladiesroom.  I was so flustered.

As soonas the door closed I started to cry. It was a combination of embarrassment and stress relief andexcitement.  The embarrassment wasnot because I allowed the Maestro to take liberties with me, that was nothingnew for me.  I was prepared forthat.  It was how I had crashed onthe first aria. 

“He’sright you know.”  Startled I lookedaround.  I had thought I was alone,but there was Kirsten.  “The Gounodwas a bad choice.  What were youthinking?” 

“I’msorry…”

“Don’t besorry.  Just don’t do itagain.  I will be coaching you inCaracas and you will not be singing coloratura.  Period.

“Yes,ok…. You’re right.”

“I know Iam.”  She stepped closer.  “You didn’t seem to mind the libertiesEduardo took with you.  That isgood.  He likes to touch andexplore the ladies.  He also reallylikes the girls in the company to go braless.  So good call.

I blushedand looked at her chest.  Then Ilooked up into her face.  She wasvery pretty, and very assertive and strong.   “I don’t mindthat.  I will do what I need todo.  And I enjoy it.”

She puther hand on my tummy and began caressing. I did not move away.  Slowlyher hand moved inside my jacket over my breasts and she began to gently squeezeplay with my nipples.  It feltnice, I sighed.

She bentdown and kissed me.  I kissed herback.

“I wantyou to live with me.”  She said atlast.  “We live in a penthouse for5 – and there are only 4 of us presently. The others are orchestra members. A guy and a couple and me. I want you to be the 5th.”

“OK.  I don’t have any other options at themoment.”

“I know.”

Shekissed me again and I felt her hands exploring all over my body.  I moved my hands to her breasts.  They were divine, heavy with largenipples.  I felt her hands go undermy dress.

“You’rewearing panties!” 

“Yes,under my pantyhose.”

“Takethem off for me.”

“Here?”

“Yes,here.  You can step into the stall –but go close the door.  I want towatch.”

I movedinto the stall, stepped out of my heels, and reached under my skirt and pulledoff my pantyhose and panties.  Ipicked them up and separated the panties from the hose.

“Liftyour skirt.”

I liftedit – exposing my triangle to her gaze. She walked over and gently petted it like one would pet a kitten.

“If youkeep doing that I will get all messy down there.”  I said softly.  “Itis not that I mind, it’s just being in public with girl juice running down mylegs is a little embarrassing.”

Shegiggled.  “Hand me your panties.”

I did so.

“Theywill be waiting for you in Caracas.”

With thatshe kissed me and walked out.