Buffy Harrington was fully acquainted with the darker side of Hollywood. At age twenty-three, she'd seen her share of illicit behavior-and then some. She'd learned, after graduating college, that to speed her climb up the social register, tolerance of other people's vices was key. Reflecting disgust at someone's eccentricities or preferences was the kiss of death. If shocked, they advised that she look the other way.
Upon her introduction, however, she found that aspect of Tinsel Town completely to her liking. She dismissed the warnings received from her peers as total fabrication-at least, from the grounds of her employer. Buffy accepted an assistant position to television's power couple, Jon and Sharleen Donahue. Each had a starring lead in a top-rated series, airing on separate nights. Buffy, yearning to obtain valuable experience in the industry after securing her degree, deemed working with that celebrated pair was a real boon to her career.
The Donahues hired Buffy after her initial interview. Recognizing her positive traits, they felt comfortable that she could dependably oversee their needs. She was gorgeous-blonde, blue-eyed, curvaceous, with a velvety voice-while exhibiting great organizational skills. Her flattering references from professors and contemporaries a-like cemented their decision. They were convinced she would give their home class, and achieve popularity with their endless procession of guests. Buffy received lavish living quarters on the sprawling Beverly Hills estate and a generous salary. Her compensation package was worth $150,000 annually.
Buffy was a big fan of the Donahues. She claimed to watch each of their shows.
Jon starred in Guardian of The City, a grim police drama. Each week, Jon encountered roughnecks and had to put them out of commission. The subject matter was always gripping and realistic. Gratuitous violence was incorporated in every episode.
Jon was extremely macho, both on the tube and in person. Guardian was a perfect vehicle to exploit his animal magnetism. Despite the show's extensive brutality, female viewers drooled over him. Buffy understood their fascination and felt the same. His crystal-blue eyes and faint Australian accent won him fame. He had thick, dark-brown hair and an athletic physique. Jon spent considerable time with a personal trainer, developing the body that drove his female fans wild. He insisted upon performing most of the stunts demanded by the show, rather than using a double. At age thirty-six, he qualified as "Sexiest Man Alive."
His wife, Sharleen, was part of an ensemble cast on a nighttime soap entitled Cable Harbor. She played Nora Sutherland, a suffering heroine whose husband wandered into the arms of a younger woman. Sharleen, featured in the continuing saga for many seasons, amassed a strong following. A fan club had evolved from that devotion. The studio sent her to many autograph sessions and scheduled personal appearances at lavish functions-all to promote her renowned character.
Sharleen did not look her thirty-five years. Deliciously thin, she had long auburn hair and sparkling green eyes. Forever clad in spandex and halter tops, she moved like a cat. Spike heels, leather jackets, hoop earrings were her usual accessories. Before the cameras, Sharleen dressed conservatively. Tailored suits, chiffon blouses and pearls were her on-screen attire. Her lengthy tresses were fashioned in a bun. She was far more subdued on the air than in real life. Sharleen carefully protected her image and did not let her private life appear in the tabloids.
The Donahues conducted themselves admirably in public. They maintained the illusion of a happy marriage. Buffy quickly learned that it was one of convenience. Neither was particularly fond of the other. For professional reasons, they carried on the charade.
Sharleen thought her husband's show was infantile-a thinly concealed excuse to feed violence to the masses. It purposely kept a high body count. Murder was excellent for ratings.
Jon dismissed Cable Harbor as cock-teasing nonsense. His wife, along with its voluptuous starlets, displayed as much skin as was permissible. The writers sifted inferior plots from trashy paperback novels, he accused. Adultery, revenge and career-destroying secrets were spun with little imagination.
They poked fun at each other, yet were smart enough to toe the line. Their combined salaries netted them almost two and a half million dollars per year. Neither wished to sacrifice the lifestyle to which they had grown accustomed. The lavish spending went beyond decadent. The designer wardrobes, sports cars, the preferential seating at elite restaurants and other perks accorded a "power" couple was theirs to enjoy.
Buffy was quick to hide her allegiances. Sharleen wanted to believe she could confide in Buffy without anything reaching her husband. Jon shared his true sentiments regarding his wife. Both were unmercifully candid. A tabloid would have paid handsomely for those confessions, yet Buffy never entertained such a transaction. Fiercely loyal to her employers, she would never sell them short.
The only person in the house who openly resented Buffy was Consuela, their housekeeper. She consistently snarled at Buffy when the Donahues weren't looking. It was her presumption that Buffy was a gold digger wishing to split the couple. Buffy could not convince her otherwise. She had nothing to gain and everything to lose by a divorce. The Donahues gave her introduction into a world of which she was enamored. Although Buffy projected innocence, Consuela refused to buy it. She, too, had viewed the dark side of Hollywood and recognized its various forms. The Donahues regularly subscribed to them. She conveniently overlooked the surfeit of her employers. Buffy, however, was deemed a passing trend. Those of that distinction generally didn't last.
Buffy learned to live with that single wrinkle in an otherwise gratifying climate. She turned a deaf ear to the Mexican housekeeper's condescension. The two of them were silently at war.
That morning, she descended the long staircase of their palatial home. Buffy expected to review Sharleen's agenda over breakfast. Sharleen's professional commitments kept her extremely busy. The actress operated on a very tight schedule. She was forever on the run, dashing from one obligation to another. Buffy gently advised her that cutting her appointments so closely would eventually result in disaster.
Sharleen, amused, dismissed her concern. "I owe it to my fans," she explained. "Without them, none of us would have the things we do."
She planned their morning conference in the dining room, yet Buffy found no sign of her employer. She intercepted Consuela, carrying a tray. "Have you seen Mrs. Donahue? She doesn't appear to be around."
Consuela did not waste an opportunity to relate her contempt for the young woman. "I'm surprised to hear that, Senorita Harrington. You normally keep a very close eye on her. Doesn't it please you when the coast is clear?" A malicious smile slowly emerged.
Buffy ignored her flagrant insult. Consuela enjoyed sparring with her. Despite their difference in income, Consuela wished to remind Buffy that she was part of the hired help. Bringing her down to her level gave her immense satisfaction. Buffy countered it by shielding her reaction. "Isn't that coffee service for her?"
"Yes. She's at the pool."
The sun blazed in a cloudless sky. Palm trees swayed in the gentle breeze. The smog, normally a fixture early in the day, was nowhere to be seen.
Sharleen looked radiant. Relaxed in a lounge chair, she observed her chauffeur in the pool. Ted Ohmley displayed his athletic form to advantage in a pair of revealing speedos. Sharleen practically licked her lips as he cut across the water, engaged in his morning constitutional. She gladly extended him use of their Olympic-sized facility for the perseverance of his robust health.
Buffy's heart fluttered at the sight of his golden flesh, heavy with sinew. Ted, blond and strapping, usually made the women salivate. She perceived Sharleen's logic in retaining him as her personal driver. After a near-call with death on the Los Angeles expressway a year ago, Jon suggested she hire a chauffeur. Sharleen's choice never seemed to raise his brow.
Ted's roots were from The Midwest. He spoke with a faint country accent. Despite his Adonis-like appearance, he had an underlying small town appeal. He recognized the effect he had on women and maximized it to his benefit.
Hollywood bred that kind of behavior in most calculating individuals. like Buffy, Ted lived on the grounds of the estate. Sharleen provided him lavish quarters by the pool. He was bestowed an element of privacy, which Buffy surmised had been arranged by design.
Consuela did not criticize Ted as she did Buffy. Men were curiously exempt from her harsh analysis. She found fault solely with the women who inhabited the Donahues' world.
Sharleen glanced in her direction. "Buffy dear, please forgive me. It was so beautiful outside, I couldn't resist." She patted the chair beside hers. "Join me."
Buffy accepted her invitation. Sharleen, having donned her swim attire, exhibited her tantalizing bronzed flesh. Sharleen followed strict maintenance. She ate only healthy, low-fat meals and exercised religiously to defy the ravages of time. In a pair of sunglasses, she easily erased ten years from her age. Her auburn hair whipped seductively around her shoulders from the oncoming breeze.
Buffy, clad in a low-cut blouse and short skirt, displayed her curves. She did not dress conservatively around the house. The Donahues encouraged her to wear provocative things. They wanted unsolicited callers to stumble across their alluring assistant. It suited them to be surrounded by "beautiful people."
"We need to go over your schedule," Buffy gently reminded as she took the empty seat. Opening her leather binder, she commenced reading. "You have a ten-thirty appointment with Gordon Crane. He called twice, insisting you be prompt. He wants to renegotiate your contract with World Productions." World, which did Sharleen's series, expected their star to resign for five additional years. Gordon, her agent, translated it into an opportunity of upgrading her salary.
"I wish it weren't necessary," Sharleen said, with her eyes glued upon Ted. He displayed an appetizing backside while paddling across the surface. She saw his muscular buns in the midst of foam. He effortlessly drew attention. "I hate haggling over money."
Buffy held her rebuttal in check. If Sharleen's claim were true, why did she shop so capriciously on Rodeo Drive? The woman generated bills in the tens of thousands for an afternoon's haul.
Sharleen quickly amended her statement. "I suppose I should," she sighed in the next breath, "for the principle, mind you."
Buffy continued with her list. "At noon, you're to have lunch with Amy Patterson. You promised her an exclusive for the Tattler"
"She's looking for dirt. Everybody wants the inside scoop. Loyalty means nothing. People are willing to divulge any confidence for a price." She beamed at Buffy. "It's refreshing to earn someone's trust, don't you agree?"
Buffy returned her smile. "I do."
Sharleen resumed her gape of her chauffeur. She overtly reflected naked desire. Her feet suggestively slid up and down the cushions of the lounge chair. Her lips slowly parted, exposing a flash of tongue. Buffy easily read her mind.
"At two o'clock, you've a wardrobe fitting at the studio, and at three-thirty, a meeting with the writers." Sharleen's contract included script approval. She had the power to veto unfavorable storylines.
"I can scarcely wait," she deadpanned. "I hope they came up with some exciting new twists. Despite Jon's little digs about quality, I'm afraid Cable Harbor has gone dry. We've lacked originality for the last two seasons."
"I rather liked the sequence in which they institutionalized you," Buffy defended. "You generated a great deal of sympathy."
Sharleen wrinkled her nose. "I didn't feel very glamorous in a strait jacket, babbling like an idiot. The shock treatment scenes were a bit much. Thank God my character fully recovered."
Buffy was quietly relieved, too. Sharleen had a tendency to bring home her role of Nora. For the duration of the "wigged out" sequences, Sharleen behaved irrationally at home. During a dinner party, she inexplicably turned into a madwoman. She attacked Patricia Stewart, the actress portraying the "other woman" on the show. Sharleen pulled her hair and slapped her across the face. It had taken all the influence Jon and the studio exerted to keep the incident from the papers.
When Sharleen secured a part, she sank her teeth into it. She literally assumed every aspect of it until she became that person.
Sharleen was most tolerable during hiatuses. Without a script dictating her mind-set, and an occasion to get under her character's skin, she functioned normally.
"I'm convinced it is in the show's best interest that they unload the surprises," Buffy reassured. "After all, that's what keeps the ratings up."
"Ditto." Sharleen drifted back to the pool. Crooking her finger, she summoned Ted. Listening to Buffy rattle off her assorted missions posed a struggle. He impaired her concentration. She yearned to ogle that fabulous body.
Buffy's pulse jumped as water streamed from his rugged contours. Ted was irrefutably hot.
She recalled glimpsing him in a tank top and a pair of jogging shorts, washing the Rolls Corniche.
He reached for a towel and dried himself. The skimpy briefs did little to hide his bulging equipment. Ted's raw expression further aggravated her. He was a man given to predatory appetite. She understood that he rarely encountered rejection. Women weren't known to resist him.
"You have a cocktail party this evening, followed by a dinner engagement at the Jensens," Buffy murmured, trying to stick to business.
"I'm sorry, dear. I won't be attending. Send them my regrets. I have something more delicious planned." Boldly staring at Ted, Sharleen alluded to her designs.
"But you already promised," Buffy protested. "The Jensens will be disappointed."
Sharleen waved a hand in dismissal. "Invent an acceptable excuse. I trust you won't let me down."
Ted stepped before her, spurring her scrutiny. Bashfulness was exempt from his manner. He took pride in his outstanding physique.
Buffy did not avert her gaze. She studied his virile form. His broad shoulders and developed pecs tapered to narrow hips. His abdomen was a network of finely chiseled muscle. He represented a tantalizing package.
Silently, he awaited direction.
Sharleen unhooked Ted's waistband and dragged it over his hips. His hips swerved to her, his arms limp at his sides. His semi-erect cock swung out at her.
"You were teasing me from the pool, weren't you?" She glanced down his front. "I can see that pleased you."
Ted refrained from commenting. His grin sufficed as an answer.
Sharleen's tongue snaked at him. She caught the tip of his cock, slithered around its velvet rim, then left him in a trail of bubbles.
His Adam's apple twitched.
Buffy sat mutely as Sharleen licked him. After applying a slick layer, she opened her mouth. Back and forth she wove, drawing out his length. Buffy observed his steady growth. Sharleen stretched him with her lips and tongue. The veins in his cock became more prominent.
Ted pivoted on his heels, his grin fading. "Oh yeah," he muttered, thrusting into her face. He cupped the back of her head, then eased himself into her oral grip. His balls veered at her chin. "Suck me."
Sharleen gave it her all. His dick dripped from her salivary excess. Normally a tidy person, Sharleen did not attempt to contain her hunger. She purposely slobbered him. After inching from her hot embrace, he trembled. Strings of spittle attached him to those wildly sucking lips.
Sharleen turned to Buffy. "I'm sorry, dear. How selfish of me. Would you care for some?"
Buffy smiled. "Me?"
"Taste him." She gestured to his swollen member, covered by her baking drool. "Go ahead. He's yummy."
Ted thumbed his cock while eying Buffy. He appeared game for a few slurps.
Buffy gazed at it. Ted sported six and a half inches of pulsing manhood. His shaft looked very eager to get into her mouth.
Without giving it extensive thought, she ran her tongue over the heavy vein of his underside. She followed it from the bulbous head to his balls. She came across Sharleen's saliva during her leisurely trip. Her employer had sheathed him in bubbly moisture. Buffy swerved over his sac, adding to Sharleen's veneer.
Ted balled his fists. He exhaled roughly as Buffy lashed his taut pouch. The change in tongue and technique savagely aroused him. When that limber tip returned to his stout helmet, she took him in her fist. Pulling on his rigid cock, she tugged at the tense skin. Slick sounds emerged from her coiled fingers. Excitement shot to his toes. He let out a long, agonizing groan.
Sharleen massaged Buffy's shoulders while she worked on Ted. Her delicate fingertips danced over her skin. Buffy purred at her feathery contact. Sharleen planted a wet kiss on the back of her neck. Buffy quivered. That thrill, radiating through her body, slowly enlarged her nipples. Sharleen, alert to Buffy's reception, unbuttoned her top. She palmed the twin buds. They throbbed beneath her expert rotations.
Buffy's mouth slipped away from Ted's cock-head. Closing her eyes, she gasped at Sharleen's stroke. Sharleen buried herself in Buffy's neck, sucking her fragrant flesh while flicking her hard nipples. Her tiny pecks sent electrical sparks through her system. Buffy moaned at her luscious assault.
Ted, watching them go at it, jerked off. His dick reddened in his heated grasp. He considered splattering their lovely faces with his cum. A picture of Buffy sobbing while his jism dripped from her cheeks and tits fueled his lust. He yearned to douse those saucy nubs.
Sharleen, noticing Ted's staggering figure, released Buffy. She steered him into her abandoned lounge chair. Ted fell back in surrender. His feet were set widely apart, his cock waving in the air. Her mouth came down on him, eliciting his prolonged groan.
Buffy crawled next to him. Ted feverishly threw his head from side to side, caught up in the flow of Sharleen's lips. She silenced him with her tongue. She probed his mouth, coercing him to respond. Her hands swept over his smooth chest, thumbing his nipples. She loved exploring his body.
Ted caressed Buffy's silky backside while Sharleen devoured him. Sharleen used both her tongue and fist to pleasure him. He shifted against the cushions, submitting to her flurry of kisses. His cock grew sticky in her care. Buffy accentuated the experience with her tender investigation. The two sensations brought him to a simmer.
Sharleen sucked Ted into a frenzy. She went nonstop, driven by his dazed expression. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and pulled. Even when she wasn't holding it, his cock throbbed to a stand. She licked its veins, then rinsed him off in a surge of saliva. She collected his balls while filling her mouth. Softly, she caressed them. They had a velvety consistency. Her auburn hair tumbled over his lap. She flung it over her shoulder without detaching herself. Ted pulsed within her cheeks. He answered her luxurious slide, her lingering pucker.
Buffy lowered one of her nipples into Ted's mouth. She moaned as he drew strongly upon it. He molded his lips to her tit. She leaned into his face, reeling from his suck. He used his tongue effectively. Swirling over her nub, he made it stiff. She immersed it in a pool of hot saliva. Swaying on her knees, she tingled all over.
Ted's arms surrounded her. He held her tightly against him. His fingers delved into her flesh. She writhed, enjoying the confrontation with all that male urgency. He found her butt, then squeezed it. She whimpered in Ted's urgent grip. He slid into her panties, seeking the moist heat of her pussy. Her lips rounded as he sank a finger into her cunt. By reflex, her eyes closed.
"Oh, God," Buffy gasped. She stuffed more tit into his mouth with a shiver. His tongue wiggled against her throbbing nipple. Her thighs quivered around his hand. His other cradled her butt. Absently, she clawed his flesh.
Pacing himself, he surveyed her mounting pleasure. He thumbed her clit while fingering her hole. Buffy permitted his intimate probe. Her nodding consent turned him on. He enjoyed the sticky sounds her cunt produced, not to mention its lush feel in his grip. Poised on his finger, Buffy rotated her hips.
Ted nibbled her nipple, then circled it with his tongue. She lost touch with reality. His lips pressed tightly to her boob, spittle escaping the comer of his mouth. Sweeping over the cascading drool, he cleanly collected it.
Buffy pelted his chin, sobbing with delight. She spouted mindless phrases as he investigated her succulent warmth. He descended her squish to the knuckle, straining to meet its sopping core. His thumb revolved around her love button, racing her pulse. Perfumed seepage spilled onto his palm. She became tremulous as he steered her to paradise.
Sharleen frantically went down on him. He got bigger and harder while nearing that pounding edge. She did not relent. Her mouth plunged to his base, then gave an exquisite twist. She wiggled over his long, beating vein. Ted groaned. He loved the way those lips serviced him. She manually stimulated him, too. When he wasn't crammed in that beautiful face, she enclosed him. Through that coil he went, making slick noises. His dick turned purplish red jerking through her fist. Her wriggling tip tormented his cockhead while she held him prisoner.
"Yeah, baby," Sharleen murmured, luring him to orgasm. She yanked on him while offering rapid tongue action. His strong palpitations informed him of his imminent approach. "Do it. Jizz in my mouth."
Buffy, unable to flee that obstinate thumb, climaxed in Ted's clutches. He jiggled her through that blinding madness. His grasp on her ass prevented her escape. Her contractions sapped her energy. Sweat trickled from her brow, dampening her forehead. She bucked on his hand, surrendering to those thrusting digits. His unbroken stroke intensified her orgasm.
Ted, observing Buffy's unfolding ecstasy, lost his staying power. He couldn't ignore the urge to shoot. Sharleen's tongue had brought him to the boiling point.
Sharleen's mouth slid halfway down his cock before he splashed on her tongue. It quickly accumulated in her mouth, yet she refrained from swallowing. She massaged his shaft, milking him of that creamy fluid. He pitched on the chair, his muscles tensing during his discharge. His choked gasps heightened her thrill.
Buffy slumped against him as he ejaculated. Her nipple returned to his mouth, stifling some of his savage growl. She shivered against him, tingling all over.
Sharleen moved toward Buffy, her cheeks full of Ted's expended passion. She pressed her lips to Buffy's. Still dazed from orgasm, Buffy opened, expecting her mistress's tongue. Instead, Sharleen transferred his cum to her mouth. Buffy moaned from the flood Sharleen poured her. She sloshed it around before gulping. Sharleen fondled her sensitive tits while emptying the contents of her mouth. When her lips detached, strings of Ted's cum mingled with saliva bridged from Buffy.
Buffy purred. Ted's cum went down her throat with a smile. She was pleased Sharleen wished to share that part of Ted with her. Gladly, she downed the proof of his satisfaction. She broke the jism web with her tongue after a savoring moment.
Ted, witnessing the shift of his spent fluid, stroked his cock. The women sustained his arousal. He liked having Buffy's spasmodic body thrashing against him. Her smooth flesh writhed against his hair-dusted thigh. In the throes of orgasm, she draped her arm around his shoulder and caressed him. Sharleen's beautiful profile, digesting Buffy's shivering response, factored into the equation.
Working at the Donahues was never boring-not for a second.
CHAPTER TWO
Buffy elected to shower before doing another thing. She felt sweaty after her escapade at the pool. Five minutes under the pounding spray would do the trick.
She encountered Consuela at the foot of the stairs. The Mexican housekeeper was her usual disdainful self. She regarded the young assistant with a patronizing eye. Buffy could do little to hide her rumpled appearance.
"Senorita has already had quite a morning," she remarked. "This should prove an interesting day."
Buffy overlooked her snub. "I'll be in the shower if anyone needs me."
"Washing away the evidence, eh? Senorita is very smart." Buffy, sighing in resignation, ascended the steps.
The bathroom at the end of the hall featured a party-sized stall. Its multiple shower heads amused Buffy. The Donahues, no doubt, had it constructed for an obvious reason: several people could easily fit inside it.
She disrobed before the bank of mirrors. Sharleen had them installed throughout the house, along with switches that regulated the amount of light. Sharleen argued that she required confidence in making a wardrobe selection. By depressing a combination of buttons, she viewed herself at every conceivable intensity and multiple angles. From dimness to blinding sunlight, she gained reassurance of wearing any given outfit.
Buffy entered the stall and welcomed the cleansing spray. Water sprinkled her from different directions. She palmed her nipples, then held them in the sparkling path. Sweet titillation unfolded from that enjoyable tickle. The pounding force had her rocking on her heels. She aimed her breasts at it, then her crotch. That commotion sent chills down her spine. Closing her eyes, she abandoned herself to that moment's luxury.
While distracted by the pleasant temperature, Buffy did not notice the bathroom door opening. Suddenly, dark, hairy arms surrounded her. A pair of large, manly hands swept up and down her body.
She identified Jon Donahue in an instant. His casual intrusions were almost routine.
Sharleen's husband occasionally barged in on her. "What are you doing in here?"
"Conserving water." Jon easily cleared six feet. He stooped to nibble on her ear. His furry chest grazed her backside while he groped her curves. "I also thought you might enjoy the company."
Buffy wasn't about to enlighten him about her poolside adventure. Normally, Jon didn't care what his wife did. Her escapades were meaningless. Buffy, however, had no intention of declaring sides. She retained her neutrality with both by concealing her activities. Jon preferred to believe she was his exclusive fuck toy.
"I suppose you've forgotten your meeting with your publicist at ten-thirty," she said, attempting to diffuse the jolt his fingertips provided. She was responsible for notifying him of his schedule, too. He drew stimulating patterns over her stomach. He neared her dampened pubes with each revolution.
"I haven't," he whispered, forwarding the chills. "The drive to his office will take all of fifteen minutes."
"Traveling at eighty miles per hour," she said, shaking as he pierced her erogenous zone.
"That's average for L.A.'s expressways." He slowly divided her cunt, delving into its pink center. "Besides, you're familiar with my fondness for speed. I've craved fast cars and fast women since I was old enough to handle both."
He hardened against her ass. She loved his cock's rapid development. Jon claimed mere contact with her had a brutal effect on him. His cock slithered up and down her shivering backside.
His mouth rippled at her neck. For his rugged masculinity, Jon was strangely capable of tenderness. Not the ram-bam type, he took time in pleasing her. He used his mouth, hands and tongue before sticking himself into her pussy.
"We better not," she stammered as he ran a finger up and down her juicy crack. His lazy rhythm elicited a sob. "You'll want more, and then be late."
"So what if he waits? I sign his checks."
Jon's thumb neared her clit. She anticipated its elaborate massage. "Afterward, you have a meeting with Gus Lambert about that TV movie."
"He's just a director."
He pressed her love button. She gasped as its slow wiggle brought strong voltage. Speech became more difficult. "But you've longed to work with him, and favored the script. Don't you remember? It was an avenue you wanted to explore. Guardian has been cramping your style. You've been aching to show range, and have been hunting for the correct vehicle. Gus put that whole package together."
"I'll make it in time," he murmured. His thumb never stopped. "I usually do."
Juice gushed from her pussy. She leaked onto his hand. He groped her with purpose, precipitating a drenching flow. Buffy leaned against him, relishing that cushion of muscle. Jon weight-lifted and jogged to retain his robust form. Exercise was as much a religion to him as sex. He maintained that balance preserved his youthful demeanor.
He planted more kisses over her shoulders and neck. Each peck awakened her passion. His deftly explored her satin planes. His hands moved with intimate awareness. She stirred in his embrace. Jon's touch electrified her.
"Oh, yes," she sighed, on the verge of swooning. Jon pulled the right strings. Those rough fingertips usurped her will power. Absently, she gyrated her hips. Her buns brushed his swollen dick. His balls lightly tapped her ass cheeks.
Jon's hands became more urgent. One soared to her breast, encompassing a rock-hard nipple while the other squeezed her snatch. She oozed, her nectar dripping from his clamp. His pinch brought delicious reverberation.
She yearned to turn around and entangle her nubs in that hairy mass. His chest was an overgrown forest. His arms and legs were amply covered, too. Staring into his dazzling blue eyes while he was submerged was another thing she fancied. Jon seemed unwilling to alter their position. He chose to have her from the rear.
He smashed the length of his cock along her crack. He ground himself against her butt hole, then down to the moist edge of her cunt. His thumb kept her desire alive. Her clit hardened beneath its vigorous rotation.
Buffy recognized his yen to eat her, but decided fucking him would swiftly relieve the tension.
She spread her legs apart and brushed him in seductive circles. She gently collided with his upright cock. His balls bumped her ass cheeks. He breathed harder, and his grip gradually tightened.
Jon began to crouch. His exhalations warmed her lower back. His hands skimmed her velvet skin.
"No," she huskily murmured. "I want you inside me." Blindly, she groped for his dick. Her fingers coiled around that thriving mass. The notion of stuffing it between her legs enormously aroused her. There was much to fuck. Jon, sporting nearly nine inches, had tremendous staying power. His eye-popping thickness added to the pleasure.
His hands froze on her body. Her determination to take him without foreplay contradicted convention. Jon was accustomed to "priming" for entry. She usually required extensive preparation.
Buffy, however, guided his domed helmet to her pussy. She pressed against his blunt end, dividing her lips. Her cunt gingerly absorbed his cock.
Jon's heart thudded in his chest. He pushed himself into that narrow, receptive hole. Her crushing embrace delivered pounding excitement. Buffy swiveled her hips, working more of him between those clinging flaps. Her moist heat engulfed him.
"Oh, baby," he groaned, surrendering to her heavenly grip. He smashed himself into that snug pussy. Framing that luscious ass, he steadily dragged her to him. Glancing down, he saw himself protrude. Her cunt expanded to lodge his imposing member. He enveloped her shivering body with his arms, savoring their tight fit.
Buffy's lips rounded when she arrived at his base. His balls strained at her soaked entrance. He drove that immense thing up her middle. During penetration, the shower spray had besieged her. Water lashed her tense features. After Jon completely submerged his shaft, he released her waist so that he could roam her silken planes. He scooped her tits together, then palmed her swollen nipples. When she shifted on her heels, his hand swept down to her golden nest. He flattened those sodden folds. The outcome was a solid connection.
Before Buffy had a chance to recover, Jon receded from her cunt. Halfway from her clasping lips, he crammed himself within its soft borders. Hot squish and zero resistance met his energetic push.
Buffy seized the faucets. "Yeah," she sobbed as that sizable bulk returned for more. "Fuck me." She twisted the knobs as Jon descended to the bottom. Although ferociously inflamed, he exhibited great self-discipline. He measured his strokes. His pubes tickled her ass when sliding forward. His balls gave her a tiny slap.
Jon's jaw dropped. He fucked that warm, spongy cunt. It took huge amounts of him, gobbling everything he gave. Her walls closed around him with each thrust. The handshake between his dick and her snatch was extremely satisfying.
"You've got all of me, baby," he croaked. Flesh slapped flesh. He watched himself go in, disappearing in that quivering hole. She pulled on him, catching his taut skin. Gritting his teeth, he expelled the air held in his lungs. His hands tightened on her. Her pussy clutched, then released his cock. He plunged to the stem, loving its tweak. "Take my big dick. Fuck it."
Buffy pushed back, moaning as he speared her. His length enabled him to reach far into her snatch. The pleasure was instant and plentiful. She never tired of its deep probe. Although it previously bore no importance, she learned how size could making fucking more enjoyable. Her butt cheeks smacked into his groin. She gladly received that giant cock.
Jon was conscious of her milking vise. Buffy hungrily latched onto him, skidding back and forth, ignorant of any discomfort. Her earlier difficulty in accommodating him seemed resolved. The sides of her cunt shrank about him, adjusting to his exacting width. The skin of his cock accumulated at her opening before totally jamming her jittery center.
Buffy's pupils rolled into her whites as he perpetuated the rush. She took his whole cock in her pussy without lubrication. Had she allowed him to go down on her, she would have been sufficiently wet.
She jerked her hips, giving him a target. He nailed her from the rear, tunneling into her snatch. She fancied his tempo-slick and easy.
Jon knew the requirements to bring her to fever pitch. There was no hurrying on his part. He obviously intended for her to love every impaling minute. She hurled herself at him, burying that monster. His back-and-forth motion created a siphoning sensation. Her pussy puckered his oncoming cock.
"I feel you, Jon, and it's marvelous," she admitted, charging into him. The friction between cunt and cock advanced her bliss. He attended the itch far in her pussy. "Give it to me, Jon. Oh, yes. Harder. Fuck me."
"It gets you excited, doesn't it?"
"Yes. I love having you inside me."
Jon fondled her succulent body. He squeezed her tits and rubbed the nipples. Pleasure radiated from each flick. Leisurely, he wandered to her golden bush. She shivered as he inched toward her mound. She anticipated the jolt of those fingers.
While she waited for them, he filled her pussy. Hard meat packed her cunt. He swung into her, occupying all the room that pussy could spare. His balls bumped her quivering cheeks. Their consistent pat reminded her that he narrowed the gap.
Suddenly, his thumb found her clit. Once on her, it never stopped jiggling. She writhed against his hairy groin, tottering on her heels.
Her button swelled beneath his orbiting digit. Impulsively, she clutched his forearm. She raked her nails over its roughness.
"I want you to cum," he whispered, sending it home. He lived for the sound of wet pussy. Into that moist pulp, he drove. He switched to a more turbulent pace. "I want to feel you getting off."
The combination of his wiggling thumb and the suction his cock produced made orgasm inevitable. Buffy submitted to those overwhelming forces. Grasping the faucet for support, she pitched and cried. Her climax was strong and lasting. Jon's cupped hand brought her back for more of his burrowing member.
Wave after wave of pleasure struck her until her excitement couldn't be tamed. She bucked wildly in his arms, then finally disengaged from him. Jon spurted over her ass cheeks. Hot cum splashed over them, furiously jetting. His animal howl echoed in the bathroom.
Buffy enclosed his shaft, pumping it until depleted. Jon groaned as she milked his final drops. They landed on her water-logged flesh.
"That was incredible," he muttered in her ear. "Let's climb into bed and spend the rest of the day in there."
"You're forgetting Gus."
He winced, then shrugged. Buffy never gave up. Her first responsibility was getting his ass in gear. Sometimes, he wondered why he didn't dump Sharleen and tie the knot with Buffy. She did a better job looking after him. If it weren't for her hefty salary, he would be tempted. "You win, but expect a visit from me later."
Buffy smiled. Life with television's top sex symbols was never dull.
CHAPTER THREE
"You seem uneasy, Sharleen," Tom Griffin remarked at the start of their session. "Preseason jitters, perhaps?"
Sharleen Donahue regarded her therapist with nonchalance. At forty-four, he was quite appealing. His thick black hair was peppered with gray. He had dark, piercing eyes and a sensual mouth. Tall and trim, he cut an attractive figure. "You should know better than that. I've seen you for years. Given the sum you've extracted during that time, nothing about me ought to be a mystery."
Tom disagreed. Although her shrink, he always discovered a previously unexplored nuance. Sharleen was a complex patient. Without fail, analysis opened strange doors. He learned a great deal about the woman, but the more ground he covered, the deeper into the labyrinth he got. He sometimes wondered if she didn't contrive the new scenes divulged twice a week solely for his entertainment. It seemed that Sharleen painted erotic scenarios to create tension between them. Although she claimed to bare her soul, he suspected she secretly yearned to assert control. Her frequent smiles, innuendoes and slurred sentences contributed to that conclusion.
The woman led a very sexual existence. She had many partners, interchanging them at whim. He privately acknowledged that each steamy account left him disturbed. Hours after she left, her sultry narrative echoed in his mind. He often couldn't block them out when conducting subsequent sittings with other patients. Sharleen had a talent for riling men. She selected words that added sizzle.
Conversely, she was an extremely motivated person. Success and the need to sustain it were crucial in her world.
"Are you still having trouble on the set?" he inquired. "You mentioned artistic differences with a specific group of individuals."
Her face darkened. "Some people don't understand method acting. They believe you can just switch on an emotion, then promptly discard it. I work very hard at my craft. To make a scene believable, I have to get into the correct frame. It's not always easy. We've discussed this before."
"Yes, we have." Tom recalled the instance in which she attacked Patricia Stewart, who stole her television husband, Mitchell, on the show. Tom had been there to soothe her afterwards. Sharleen's erratic behavior hadn't stunned him. Sharleen demonstrated a history of adapting to the roles she played. If the script called for her to be friendly with someone in the cast, Sharleen would send presents, chat on the phone for hours afterwards and become an old chum away from the camera. If the storyline turned that friendship sour, Sharleen would suspend pleasantries and give that same actor the cold shoulder. That individual was immediately shut out of her life and basically ceased to exist. She developed grudges that were erasable only by the show's writers. New actors were cautioned about Sharleen's eccentricities prior to signing. Tom lectured her on rising above such pettiness, but Sharleen was too set in her ways. She found nothing unreasonable about her technique. "I've also made certain recommendations."
"Understand me, Tom. I will change nothing about myself. I'm at the height of popularity. My fans want me as I am. I wouldn't be the woman they idolize if I accepted your advice. I wouldn't be in demand."
Tom watched her temper flare. He saw no point in defending his position. Sharleen built impenetrable barriers. The session would be a complete waste unless he abandoned the issue.
Sitting next to Sharleen Donahue required tremendous discipline. Temptation often weighed upon Tom. He couldn't ignore her beautiful face and incredible body. The way that auburn hair spilled over her bare shoulders threw him. Her steamy confessions provoked his libido. Preserving their doctor-patient association proved exacting.
Tom held his reaction in check. Sharleen knew nothing of his feelings. He fought to maintain the thread of continuity, focusing on her needs and ignoring that ones festering in his groin.
"Tell me of your relationship with Jon," he quietly suggested after consulting his notes. "Has anything changed recently?"
Sharleen sighed. "Jon is a creature of habit. He defies change. He-likes things to stay as they are."
"Does that bother you?"
"Why should it? We rarely talk. I see him in passing at the house, though it's not deliberate. We didn't marry out of love. We're both opportunists, and saw value in joining forces. He has his little flings, I have mine. Despite the lack of harmony, we practice discretion."
"Have you considered leaving him?"
"Upon occasion, but the thought is usually replaced by more pressing matters. My career consumes my attention. I'm haunted by the need to make good choices. Reading a script entails great agony. I sometimes don't recognize worthwhile material, then worry another actress might elevate it. Fortunately, many I receive have been unexciting. I can't afford to be too choosy. Constant rejection of every project handed me will eventually work against me." She sighed. "At least staying married to Jon keeps me visible to producers. We're regarded as a unique team."
"But if he hasn't been satisfying you-"
"I'm fulfilled." She thought of Ted and Buffy. A warm, sticky feeling evolved in her groin-particularly when dwelling upon her shapely assistant. She shifted on the couch, remembering the previous morning. Buffy had pleased her on so many levels, it was hard to imagine how she had previously functioned. The girl not only managed to keep her affairs in order, but added spice to her home. Sharleen had hired assistants in the past-shallow, incompetent girls who invariably brought disappointment. Their organization skills either fell short or were totally nonexistent. Several were Hollywood hopefuls, chomping at the bit for recognition. The Donahue home was a regular hangout for many celebrities, attracting shameless go-getters. Un-like her predecessors, Buffy concentrated on doing a good job. Making Sharleen happy seemed her top priority.
Sometimes, Sharleen fantasized about having exclusive rights to Buffy. When the Divorce Bug finally bit her, Sharleen envisioned Buffy part of her settlement. Though aware Jon depended on her too, Sharleen would refuse to forfeit that prize.
Luckily, neither contemplated legal proceedings. The benefits of their current situation outweighed all negative aspects.
Sharleen gazed meaningfully at Tom. His dark, unblinking eyes struck her. For the entire term of her therapy, she'd never tried anything with him. It hadn't entered her mind. Tom was her outlet-her spiritual advisor. She refrained from tampering with that entity.
She scanned his trim body. Tom apparently played golf and tennis in his spare time. He had excellent tone for a man his age. His large hands and long fingers prompted sizzling thoughts. His wrists, rough with hair, fine-tuned the fantasy. She wondered how the rest of him looked.
Her hand floated to his thigh. Her casual approach took him aback. Rarely had they touched. Tom flinched. The pen shook in his hand. A potent charge shot through him.
"Why am I so driven?" Sharleen asked while inching toward his crotch. "I have everything, yet I always seek more. Can you explain that?"
Tom had no answer for her. He was much too conscious of her fingers' direction. Sharleen gave his hormones a fierce jolt. At first, he thought her caress hollow. Yet, as she advanced to his groin, his pulse raced.
Sharleen smoothed her palm over his equipment. "I have this dread of fucking up. Every time I pick up a script, I get an anxiety attack. I'm afraid to take a gamble. Properties that strike me as a sure thing have flopped. A few I've thrown in the rejection pile became hits. My agent isn't always right." She massaged the shape in his pants, oblivious of its effect on him. Sharleen merely aired her thoughts while playing with him. "Gordon doesn't often choose a winner. He cites the failure of my contemporaries-those that deserted shows they helped make famous in pursuit of meatier roles and higher pay. Some have outright blown it. Gordon says it's an elusive rainbow. Quite often, a snafu derails them from achieving their goal-unforeseen difficulties, financial crisis, irreconcilable differences. Call it what you may. By then, it's too late to bail out. Their part in the former series has been recast, or their character written off. Sometimes, their exit placed the show in its final death throes, with cancellation unavoidable. Much resentment is caused, and forgiveness slim." She shook her head, emerging from her reverie. "I keep wondering if Cable Harbor is all I can do."
Tom could scarcely breath. He lengthened and developed beneath her restless hand. His cock took solid form. Those tantalizing fingers enlarged him. Surely, she knew she had destroyed his will power. What man could have withstood such a maneuver?
Sharleen glanced at the bulge he sported. His strained front provoked her appetite. She ran her thumb up and down its span. Tom's growth impressed her. Curiosity seized her. She reached for his belt.
"No, Sharleen," he croaked, clamping her wrist. He saw the unraveling of the fabric holding together their professional relationship.
She wrestled free of him. Once determined, she could not be dissuaded. His zipper descended, then out came his cock. She stroked that long, slender shaft. He easily had seven inches. It was the first time ever that she saw him excited, much less felt the proof.
"This isn't what you actually want," he croaked.
A teasing smile blossomed on her face. "How can you know that?" Her tongue darted over the bulbous head.
Tom groaned. His fists clenched. He dropped his pen and notebook. He couldn't stop her, nor calculate the damage such an action posed.
Sharleen's elbow sank into the couch. She was at the perfect elevation. Tom's chair, stationed a foot from where she reclined, was quite accessible. Despite his hoarse protest, he kept his knees apart. She engaged him with strong eye contact while lowering her mouth. She captured the tip of his cock. Her lips rippled over his stiff flesh. Tom, a devout hygienist, carried a soap-fresh scent. He tasted clean and manly.
Tension marked his face. Those black spheres followed her fluent tongue. She flashed it at him while licking his veins. He trembled inside her mouth. She caught the taut skin of his cock and pulled. His eyes grew moist and his lips quivered as she tugged on him. She sucked harder, drawing some of his pre-cum. Her tongue lingered at his underside. Clasping his thighs, she stretched her thumbs so that they grazed his balls. He stirred in his seat from that intimate commotion.
"You're big," she whispered. "I had no idea."
He trembled from her hot breath when she spoke. His saliva-moistened helmet tingled. He was ready to receive her scalding lips again. Had she known all along how often he dreamed of such a moment? Was his desire for her that recognizable?
Now that the corruption began, he couldn't stop it. The rift could only widen.
She perceived his yearning. "Can I finish?"
Sluggishly, he nodded.
She licked the knob of his beautiful cock. She kissed him there while holding the base. Up and down she went, distributing sloppy pecks. She lashed the branching veins, all of which formed a detailed road map. Her tongue sloshed across his flesh. Her lips brushed his velvet skin. She coated him with foamy love.
"Yes," he muttered, fighting to watch. Her ticklish style frayed his nerve endings. His throat muscles barely functioned. His eyes closed and his chin went high as her slurps intensified. "Yes."
She covered his dick with burning kisses. He swelled against her lips. Up and down his shaft her lazy tongue moved. She swirled around his cockhead, working it into a frenzy. Wetting the narrow aperture, she tasted more of his seeping jism. His milky residue trickled onto her serpentine tip.
Tom, stripped of composure, took aim and went into her mouth. Sharleen sucked hard, her green eyes dull with lust. He filled her oral cavity, coasting along that vibrant tongue. He cupped the back of her head, dragging her close. That action proved unnecessary. She pulled steadily on him, refusing to let go. His cock disappeared from her unvarying gobble.
"Christ," he gasped, swallowing roughly. "Take it. Every bit."
She wrapped her lips about that monster and drew powerfully on him. She sucked until his creamy essence caressed her palate. Tom leaked onto her tongue. Her sucks ferociously stimulated him. The ooze taken from his throbbing member dissolved on her thrashing tip.
Tom manually roamed her body. He enclosed her tits. Sharleen had on a blouse that easily unbuttoned. Naturally, she hadn't worn a bra. Her small boobs did not require support. He fingered her nipples, making the buds rise. He rotated his palms over those burgeoning pebbles. He held them with his forefinger and thumb, twisting them gently.
She groaned against his trapped flesh. She obviously enjoyed blowing him.
He grunted, sliding back and forth on that wiggling tongue. Her teeth grazed his rock-hard thing. As Sharleen took him down her throat, his pulse quickened. He slid into that baking warmth, then dripped with saliva when receding. A hot, tingling weakness climbed in his loins. He spiraled with the sensation, thrusting, allowing her grasping lips to get him there fast.
"Harder," he groaned, pumping her face. He lurched in his seat, feeding that mouth. "Faster."
Sharleen closed in for that strong length of cock. When the heat of her mouth engulfed him and her tongue slapped him with warm saliva, his rod was like steel. She looked up at him and digested the expression of ecstasy on his face while sucking him. She wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft, holding his dick at an angle, and plunged down on him. She massaged his spittle-slick length while mouthing the domed head. He jerked through her fist.
"Don't stop," Tom groaned. He left his chair, towering over her splayed figure. She awakened the beast that lurked beneath his typically calm exterior. He almost climbed onto her face, spurred by her tongue. His balls slapped her chin, punctuating his grunts. It no longer mattered that she was his patient, paying a steep sum for the session. She had taken him to the edge, and he let her know it with every push. "Eat that thing," he commanded. Her lips automatically tightened. "Suck it good. Oh, yeah. Suck that dick. Make me cum."
Sharleen downed him, burying herself up to the nose in his bristly pubic hair while stuffing her throat with cock meat. She mashed him with her lips. Her tongue never ceased tormenting his veins.
She sucked his cock with a steady vacuuming action. He was a mere spasm away from a full, jism-pumping climax. Tom scaled the heights. His balls swelled up with cum while she patiently sucked on his cockhead. Just as the first drops of goo trickled onto her full, red lips, she clamped two fingers at his base.
Tom groaned. Christ, she was going to take it-all of it. He could feel the yank of those lips, and the jism in his balls responding to their command. "Yeah. I want you to drink it. Come get it, baby. Come get it."
Sharleen swallowed him. Except for cum-packed balls that pressed against her mouth, she had him deep in her throat. Her sucking lips taxed his will power to the limit.
Sharleen loved the taste of his skin. Hungrily, she did his cock. She produced wet sounds as his thing crammed through her soft lips. Saliva dripped down her chin and fell onto her tits. The sense of him about to explode overwhelmed her.
Tom groaned, then thrust with abandon into her face. "I'm going to jizz."
Sharleen invited his eruption. She wanted to gulp his hot, creamy fluid.
Tom maneuvered himself between those luscious lips. In and out he swung, letting them moistly hug him. He pushed himself to the hilt, planting his cock in that sultry expression. He fucked her mouth with unhurried strokes. Setting the pace, he pumped the insides of her cheeks.
His cock filled her mouth. She swirled her tongue around it and moaned as he pushed it back into her throat. Her teeth lightly scraped his taut skin.
Tom's shaking intensified. "I'm getting close. So fucking close."
Her hand moved up and down his slick cock in time with her lips. The spurt of his cock surprised her. Warm jism splashed in her mouth. The intensity of his discharge left him drained.
She drank his cum. The taste of his jism ebbed in her mouth. Beads of cum surrendered to the pressure and oozed onto her tongue. He was sweet and warm, his thick fluid gushing from the aggravated slit.
"Yeah," he muttered, hitting her with his balls. His chin went high as he let those squeezing lips finish him off. Sharleen definitely made the earth move. He felt the jolt down to his toes. "Oh, yeah. Drink it. Ahhhh."
Sharleen obeyed his command. She dispatched his milky fluid, gulp after gulp, until draining him of it. She detached her lips and gazed at his sapped expression. "Did you enjoy that?"
He nodded with his eyes closed. Slowly, he sank back into his chair. He could not continue standing after that strenuous release.
"Perhaps now that we've gone that route, you'll understand me better. Intimacy will add a new dimension to my therapy."
Tom, weak from orgasm, could not argue with that.
CHAPTER FOUR
Buffy answered the summons at the electronic gate ahead of Consuela. The cynical housekeeper was better left driving the cook crazy. Buffy had enough of her casual insults for one day, and resolved to distance herself. "It's all right," she called, "I've got it."
No answer came from the kitchen. Either the two women were quietly putting up with each other, or one was on the floor, the other standing over her triumphantly.
Depressing the intercom button, Buffy asked who it was. A recessed security camera furnished a view of a van bearing its company name. "Bevery Hills Refrigeration Service," replied a rugged, male voice. "We're here to fix the air conditioning."
"Finally." She flicked the switch that operated the gates. One could never be too prepared for the army of kooks and thugs that prowled the homes of stars. Buffy felt insulated from the outside world. The Donahues had a state-of-the-art security system installed to discourage unwanted visitors.
Two stalwart hunks in tight T-shirts, jeans and adjustable caps came to the door. One had sandy hair and baby-blue eyes, the other was a dark, olive-skinned Italian. They flashed grins and flexed muscles while producing identification. Coming across someone their age with her fresh allure was apparently a treat.
Buffy, reading their badges, rebounded from her disarmament. "They sent two of you? How much will that end up costing us?"
"No extra charge," the blue-eyed man, who was listed as Woody, informed. He jerked a thumb at his associate, Frank. "He's in training. I'm doing the work."
"I see. Let me take you to the unit in back."
Consuela intercepted them before Buffy could escort them to the terrace. Her eyes merrily danced from one man to the other. "I understand the Senorita's enthusiasm in greeting our callers. They ought to keep you very busy."
"They're repairing our central air system," Buffy maintained with a forced smile.
"Yes. It's been difficult keeping things cool here. Wouldn't you agree, Senorita?"
Buffy ignored her. Consuela had no compunctions about voicing catty remarks in front of guests, whatever their status. Buffy wasn't about to waste her breath on someone who derived satisfaction from offending her. The woman was an incurable skeptic. She gestured to the double French doors. "This way, gentlemen."
Consuela clucked as they shuffled along. Her derisive laughter painted an unflattering picture of Buffy.
Buffy led them to the malfunctioning device. "Mrs. Donahue has complained about the temperature in the bedroom. She's extremely conscious of humidity and its effect on her skin."
"We'll take a look," Woody said.
While they dismantled the unit, Buffy couldn't remove her eyes from them. Both were cute, but she continually deferred to the talkative one. He glanced at her several times during his examination.
"I'll have to check the duct in her room," Woody announced after inspecting the machine's components.
"Follow me."
Buffy led them upstairs to the master suite. She was aware of their lengthening stare. Her butt was their principle focus. The skirt she wore didn't begin to properly cover it. Raised hems displayed her great legs to advantage.
Sharleen personally involved herself in the room's decoration. She favored a bordello-look.
Soft shades of pink were abundantly used. Silky drapes, plush carpeting and strategically arranged mirrors (one mounted on the ceiling above the king-sized bed) lent that illusion.
The men grinned at each other.
Buffy made light of the room's flamboyant style. "You'll find the register and return on opposite sides." She pointed to them.
Woody, the sandy-haired man, steered Frank, the Italian, to the source. Simultaneously, the telephone rang. Buffy sashayed to the extension on the night stand, then took the call in the other room. Depending on who it was, she might not want the wrong pair of ears attuned to her conversation.
Consuela had already picked up downstairs. "Donahue residence."
"Hi, Consuela," Jon Donahue pleasantly greeted. "Would you put Buffy on the line?"
"I'm here." Buffy waited a moment for the click. She disliked when Consuela eavesdropped. Anything said added more fuel to the fire. Sure enough, she heard none. She purposely retained a business-like tone. "Have you forgotten where you're supposed to be?"
"No, but I'd rather be someplace else, if you catch my drift," he huskily said.
Buffy's cheeks flushed. "Need I guess?"
"I feel like a cozy drive in the Hills tonight.
How about it?"
"The weatherman says it ought to be nippy."
"We'll bring a blanket. I'll keep you warm."
Buffy kept waiting for the elusive disconnection sound, then gave up. "Now that you mention it, you and Sharleen were invited to an awards presentation this evening. It's to be taped, then televised later."
"Shit. I don't care about some fucking bullshit like that. Those things bore me."
"Sharleen is with her hairdresser, preparing for it."
"She can go by herself."
"And leave the tabloids to speculate? I don't think so. You've got to keep up appearances. There will be plenty of other nights."
"Too bad, baby. I was going to give you some ride."
Buffy regretted it, yet also regretted Consuela digesting Jon's proposition. The Mexican housekeeper would have a field day with that information. "I'll make it a point to leave your calendar open for it."
"Gotta go. Catch you later." Jon abruptly ended the conversation. No doubt he'd called between takes. Acknowledging the steep costs of filming a television series, Jon respected his show's budget.
"You can hang up, Consuela," Buffy cheerfully said.
She could hear the phone slam downstairs.
Buffy rolled her eyes, then smiled. They knew each other well.
She returned to the bedroom, expecting a technical diagnosis from the men. Instead, she spotted Woody, the sandy-haired guy, in front of Sharleen's dresser. Its contents of exotic lingerie spilled to the floor. Sharleen's diaphanous panties were in his hands. Frank, the Italian, inhaled another pair while a bra dangled from his grip.
Her smile faded. "Exactly what do you think you're doing?" Buffy exclaimed in shock.
Neither seemed embarrassed nor regretful. She faced complete insolence. Evidently, being in the bedroom of the TV goddess brought on bold curiosity. Since Buffy was from their generation, they failed to show deference.
"Are you in the habit of rifling through other people's drawers?"
She could not instill guilt. They were much too amused by Sharleen's belongings. Frank retrieved a pair of crotchless underwear and sniffed them. Woody rubbed a lace bodice over his face.
Indignant, Buffy marched over to Woody and tried snatching it from him. "Give me that!" she demanded.
Woody held it out of her reach. He guffawed at her attempt to confiscate it. "Have you ever seen her in these things?"
"I'm reporting this incident to your boss," she advised. "You'll be fired."
Woody wrapped his arms around her. "Lighten up, baby. We're just having a little fun."
Buffy squirmed against his solid form. The repairman, though slim, exhibited thrilling strength. "Not at the expense of Sharleen Donahue's privacy," she hissed, overriding that impression.
Woody peered into her eyes. For a brief moment, he recaptured her initial attraction. His face turned serious. The lingerie collection of television's soap queen made him extremely horny. Slowly, he cupped the back of her head and covered her lips with his mouth. Buffy was startled by the force of his tongue and its insistence to find hers. As they flicked, he tightly held her. He traced her jaw with his thumb while they kissed.
Woody, an expert in such situations, reduced her will power to zero.
Her anger slowly dissolved. The rush she received from Woody had been absolutely unprecedented. Rather than throwing them out, she reciprocated. Buffy could have pressed a secret button that would have sounded an alarm, but didn't. There was no explanation, other than complete sexual excitement. Woody had what was required to turn her on. Their embrace turned feverish, and from there, everything occurred with dizzying speed.
Woody lowered her to the bed, then dug into her crotch. A hard lump smashed into her mound. Back and forth he dragged his bulge, producing tingling friction.
Buffy responded to the boner pressing into her susceptible flesh. A damp spot developed beneath that solid, grinding mass. She couldn't stop the trickling seepage. Her arms curved around him. She molded herself to his erection, yearning for that conflict.
Frank tossed the undergarments aside, in favor of joining them. He knelt beside them, drawn by Buffy's reaction. Her surrender made his hormones itch.
Woody ended their kiss, but continued provoking her crotch. "Can you feel that, baby?" he whispered, moving his hips. "I've got seven big ones waiting for you. How about it?"
Buffy moaned, unable to reply. His frantic gyrations kept her moist. Her woman juices blotted her panties. She couldn't help oozing into them.
"You weren't actually going to spoil things by telling, were you?" he huskily inquired while massaging her with solid cock.
His urgent brush displaced her argument. Swallowing hard, she shook her head.
Frank touched her, too. His coarse fingertips streamed over her bare arms, then ran along her side. He wanted some of her, too.
Woody took off her blouse. The buttons separated at his skilled flick. Buffy's enlarged nipples pointed at him, in search of a hot tongue. She writhed on her back, aching for his pucker.
His lips went over one of those thick stubs. He sucked until her toes curled. Her pussy got juicy while enduring the rotation of his tongue. Woody treated her with delicacy. He cupped her tits with the utmost care. Buffy quivered in his embrace.
"Oh, God," she moaned. That suck robbed her of strength. He fastened his mouth over the other hard nipple and drew fiercely. His tip circled her thick stub, distributing bubbly spit. Having moisture settle on her swollen nuggets caused her pussy to tighten.
Lost in a fog, she caressed the Italian. Frank's firmness intrigued her. She couldn't pin down the location of her hand, yet encountered some interesting terrain. She stroked his furry arms, then swept across his flatboard stomach. Frank shifted beneath her swirling touch, varying her path. Soon, she traveled over his cock and balls. Shivering, she framed them. Frank, leaning into her palm, rubbed her with his hard equipment.
Woody worked his way down, dabbing her navel and disbursing wet kisses along her quaking abdomen. His warm breath made her tingle. He squeezed her crotch with his lips. His saliva moistened her panties.
"I want to eat you, baby," he muttered.
Her heart pounded. She perceived his raw hunger.
He eased her underwear from her hips, exposing her blonde thatch. After planting a kiss on her mound, he roughly mouthed it. His tip ran along her pink groove until the flaps of her cunt opened. He slurped the glistening sides, gleaning her husky flavor.
Buffy clutched his shoulders. The breath went out of her. His teasing strokes drove her mad. He had fire in his saliva. She trembled as it dribbled over her sensitive skin.
"You love it, don't you?" Woody muttered. "I like watching you respond to my tongue." He separated the succulent lips of her pussy, then wriggled his way into them. He sank into her cunt, twisting slowly to the bottom.
"Ohhhh," Buffy cried out. Her lips widened as his tip disappeared. Ecstasy raged through her system. She closed her eyes, and upon opening them, showed only their whites. "Oh, God."
Keeping an eye on her quivering mouth, Frank unzipped his fly. That hot blonde needed something to keep her quiet. His big dick swung out, aching for her oral heat. He pumped himself with his fist, savoring that testosterone rush. He took aim at that trembling orifice.
Buffy moaned as Woody probed her. Spurred by her tremulous tone, Woody went about fucking her with his tongue. He pierced her hot squish, gulping the juices that oozed from her sodden core. Buffy listened to him drink her excitement. He could not contain his thirst. Further and further he delved, gleaning her hot fluids.
At first, Buffy had been paranoid about Consuela walking in on her. That bitch would have been merciless about such an episode. As Woody slurped her to ecstasy, she discarded her guilt. To hell with her, she defiantly thought. She could tell the world, for all she cared.
"Mmmmm," Woody growled into her damp flesh. His tongue padded through her cunt, stirring the bubbling juices. She sobbed as he siphoned them. "Mmmmm."
Buffy watched his sandy head bob furiously as he sucked her pussy. He was positively elated to service her in that manner. His mouth traversed her pink flesh, heightening her joy.
Every cell in her body prickled as he lashed that moist section.
Eventually, he connected with her clit. It was as though he'd saved that for last. He rolled over that hard pebble in shivering waves, letting her excitement build. Her lips expanded, revealing clenched teeth. Air whistled through them. His technique knocked her breathless. He licked her so thoroughly, her vision blurred. Buffy struggled to replace the oxygen in her lungs.
When her teeth separated, Frank lowered his cock into her mouth. He groaned while sliding against her wet tongue. He worked his way into her, pushing and retreating, until she seemed ready for more. Those sparkling blue eyes peered at him. Gradually, he introduced another inch. She tickled his snarl of veins.
Buffy blindly delivered her inflamed snatch to Woody's mouth while Frank buried himself in her face. Her cheeks bulged with his thick cock. The two repairmen sought part of her for their fulfillment. She tasted Frank's salty flesh while Woody thrilled her with his tongue.
Frank briefly exited her mouth. She stroked his saliva-drenched cock while gazing down at Woody. Her thighs framed his face. As Buffy swung her ass, he extended his tongue. The result was jolting. Buffy wanted more of his attack.
Frank returned for more of Buffy's scalding licks. Her lips caught him, the skin bunching and stretching. He sawed into her, his shaft lengthening to its peak. She fondled his balls while clenching him. The aggregate thrill was indescribable.
Woody whipped her into a frenzy, lashing her clit faster and faster. Riddled with preliminary contractions, she saw no other option. He was going to make her cum. His wriggling tip expedited her trip to heaven, and sent her there at twice the speed.
"Ohhhh," Buffy gasped, even though stuffed with cock. The tongue that dipped into and slurped and vibrated her pussy to orgasm belonged to a complete stranger. Her hand fell away from Frank's balls. She piled her tits together, aligning the nipples. Her thumbs flicked them.
Frank gripped his base and massaged it while the rest of him protruded from her mouth. He could feel the stirring of orgasm. Buffy got him there quickly. He repelled the urge to shoot. He wanted his pleasure to ride.
"Easy, baby," he grunted as the weakness intensified. "Go slow. Make it last."
Woody circled Buffy's clit, provoking her to no end. Seized with fever, Buffy thrashed. There was no escape from those climax-producing licks. The novelty, then the severity of them, propelled her convulsion.
"Ohhhh," Buffy cried, contorting. Furiously, Buffy spasmed. Her lips shook around Frank. His dick muffled her screams. She smacked Woody's face with her wet pussy, streaking his nose and cheeks with her abundant secretions. She endured his lavish movement of tongue throughout that feast of sensations.
Woody attended the gush that rose from her satisfied pussy. He gulped her juices as rapidly as they oozed. Her clit continued to receive his loving tongue. He perpetuated her bliss.
Watching Buffy cum was a ferocious stimulant. Frank pulled out of her mouth and jerked himself to a violent finish. Jism squirted on her chin and cheeks. He huffed and puffed over her fever-bright complexion, unable to empty himself in her mouth. Her fingers coiled around him, milking the hot goo from his shaft. He couldn't resist her squeeze. Her lazy tongue swerved over the accumulation, partially cleaning the area.
"Oh, yeah," he said, choking with satisfaction. He traced her red lips with his creamy outpour. He leaked over that silky skin. White stuff oozed from his tip. Her tongue reappeared to sponge the excess.
While Buffy was in the throes of orgasm, Woody removed his pants. His bikini briefs scarcely hid the steepled shape jutting from its boundaries. The head of his cock protruded, the tip oozing a bead of pre-cum. He thumbed the rim, causing that pearl to drip. He yanked them down, causing his thing to stand.
Buffy, downing the last of Frank, took stock of his urgent expression. She released Frank, then ran her hands up and down Woody's shaggy thighs.
He grasped her mound. Her juice and his saliva oozed from her cunt. "Your pussy needs a man in it." His thumb pressed into her tender cunt flesh. "Oh, yeah. It's starving for some cock."
Buffy was wet enough to be fucked. Her drenched pussy wanted all of him. Although having admonished him for rifling through Sharleen Donahue's things, she forgave him. Why not? She must have known he could satisfy her in a big way.
She stared at that swollen shaft, eager to take her, then locked gazes with him. Woody climbed on top, smoothing his hands over her luscious body. Shaking, she wrapped him with her legs. Cupping his head, she steered him to her tits. He mouthed the sweat-covered nipples. He circled the swollen nubs, teaming with excitement. His flickering journey caused her to undulate.
Woody's heavy knob strained at her opening. That solid mass wedged itself between her sopping cunt lips. His pulsations grew in might. He pushed his cock into her.
"Oh, God," Buffy said in a rush, feeling him enter. "Ohhhh."
Frank stroked himself while they became linked. From his position, he saw that wet pussy open for Woody. His partner drove himself into that pink center. His cock jutted from her juicy crack.
Buffy's breathing grew harsh as Woody submerged his dick. Her toes curled as he disappeared in her snatch.
Although spent, Frank's loins stirred again. He was rock-hard, digesting the scene. He yearned for another piece of Buffy.
Woody watched her respond as they latched together. Buffy smiled dreamily, pushing forward. "Ohhhh. Oh, yeah." It felt incredible, having him in her snatch. Nothing paralleled the charge of initial penetration. Woody ended his push with a tap of his balls. Her buttocks tingled from their bounce. She raked his powerful back with her nails, luxuriating in their fit.
Woody studied her with moist, vacuous eyes. Immersing himself in cunt usually did that to him. Gripping her ass cheeks until her pussy lips expanded, he charged into them. Back and forth he went, creating sweet suction. Her cunt walls and his moving cock generated a tugging vacuum.
Buffy, acutely aware of his every vein, rose and fell on that rigid shaft. His solid cock curved right into her moist cunt. She surrendered to those thrusts, jamming her middle. Nothing else mattered.
"Yeah," he groaned, embedded in hot squish. "Move that ass for me while I fuck you." He stuck himself as far as he could go.
Buffy humped him back, savoring the cramming of that stiff thing. In and out he charged, making her gasp. When absorbing his full measure, she cried out. She loved that hard, glutted sensation.
"Roll over, man," Frank said, hoarse with excitement. "Let me have her ass."
Woody obliged him. Buffy deferred to the pull of those hands. They rearranged themselves for Frank's benefit. As she settled on his lap, Woody's cock sliced high. Buffy exhaled strongly as he ventured further.
Frank's cockhead pressed against her anus. She could feel him tremble while preparing to enter. His tip was lubricated with cum and saliva. Buffy's sweat helped pave the way. He introduced himself with care, alert to her expression.
Buffy's chin went high as he sank home. His dick speared her dark hole, dividing those sweet buns. He gripped her hips, dragging her toward him. Frank gasped as her anus crushed him. Buffy, though extremely tight, absorbed his charging mass.
Woody groaned from the force of Frank's entry. The man left him little room, yet he managed to climb through her layers of pulp. His dick bulged through that thin wall separating her two channels. Woody could feel Frank's pulsations.
Buffy's tits leaped at him, the nipples steep and thick. Sweat dripped from her flesh. Woody let out his tongue, collecting the salty drops as they fell. They immediately dissolved.
Buffy moaned as she let all of Frank in. His balls hugged her quivering ass. He throbbed in her rectum. After savoring their bond, he began pumping her. She relished her total intake. Both men were nicely hung. Cock occupied both orifices.
"That's it, baby," Woody told her, "a double-header. We've got you sandwiched."
Frank closed his eyes while fucking. "Christ, her ass-hole is squashing me."
"Don't you just love it?" Woody chided.
"Yeah." Frank pressed himself into that hot groove, enjoying all it had to offer. "I sure do."
Woody assisted, lifting her with his hands, then lowering her down. His breathing grew ragged as the friction increased. His eyes were half-closed, shifting from her billowing tits to the ecstasy Buffy registered. He got off on her spaced-out look. Though burdened by Frank's thick sausage, he fucked her harder. She responded heatedly to his thrusts.
"Yes," she whimpered, fully receiving him. "Faster. Harder."
Her cunt scaled the length of his cock, deriving pleasure from its thrusts. Buffy gripped him with everything she had, squeezing his dick until he gasped. He moved sluggishly through her pussy. Pleasure was building inside her, carrying her to another plane.
Frank saw it, too. He crammed himself into her butt, spurred by that glimpse of paradise. "Want me to shoot in your ass, baby? Want me to fill it with cum?"
Buffy said nothing. He let her moan suffice as an answer.
"How do you like this, pal?" Woody said to his partner. "We're in Sharleen Donahue's bed, fucking her assistant? This is too much."
"I'll say," Frank said, plunging into Buffy's backside.
Buffy no longer heard them. The blood pounding in her ears drowned out their words.
"Fuck me," Buffy. moaned, bouncing between them. She slid back and forth on Woody's bone-like shaft while slamming into Frank. Her clit burned from the conflict. "That feels so good."
Frank kneaded her buttocks while shoving his stiff cock into it. His touch seared her. Buffy whimpered as he manipulated her buns, digging into her flesh. It felt good to be eagerly groped.
Buffy plunged down on Woody, swallowing his dick. The hot friction of her pussy gradually wore on him. His mouth dropped as Buffy feverishly rode him. His eyes assumed their remote quality. Faster and faster Buffy went, luring him to orgasm. Because he hadn't cum yet, Woody had the least amount of staying power. Their flesh slapped noisily together. The most aroused parts of their bodies rubbed. She carried Frank with her as she shoved herself at him. Buffy made his cock slippery with juice. He was like a spike, lunging into her drenched core. Buffy actually felt the snag of his cock's skin while it traveled into her slick folds.
Woody grew numb to the constant pressure of Frank's dick. He focused on Buffy's sucking force.
"Yeah, baby," Buffy said, sweat pouring from her brow. Droplets that clung to her nipples splashed his chest. "Yeah. Do it. Cum in my pussy."
Woody jammed himself hard into her cunt while peering into her eyes. His features were red. "I'm going to jizz," he groaned.
"Yeah," Buffy choked, arriving at that point, too. "Oh yeah. "Ohhhh. Ohhhh."
Frank spasmed, too. He growled through clenched teeth while delivering what was left of his jism.
Even in the throes of orgasm, Buffy experienced their jetting squirts. Woody emptied himself into her spasming cunt. Buffy rode out the rest of her climax, humping him until the madness left her.
Frank let her agitated anus exhaust him. He shot his load into those snapping buns. His jism flowed to her bowels. "Ughhh. Ughhh."
When there wasn't an ounce of strength remaining, Buffy collapsed over Woody. He held her fast, those muscular arms tender, and glad to contain her shuddering form.
Frank slumped onto her. "I can't move," he whispered into her ear.
Buffy was too giddy to care.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jon Donahue silently flirted with the voluptuous script girl. She was undoubtedly the only silver lining he could find that evening. In a flight of madness, he agreed to appear on Bari Carter's show. He routinely avoided talk shows like the plague. Hosts promised to be civil, but ambitiously emptied the skeletons from one's closet. No confidence remained sacred. He saw many friends get roasted by overzealous interviewers. After those predators were through feeding, a person's dignity was rarely left intact.
Bari Carter was famous for her coverage of the entertainment industry. The public applauded her honesty and courage to seek an accurate version of celebrity stories. Her guests, though challenged by her probing questions, admitted a grudging respect.
At the petition of his studio and agent, Jon was coaxed into making an appearance. Even
Buffy persuaded him to do it. The free publicity was invaluable. Jon, being a good sport, submitted to Bari's grilling. He promoted Guardian whenever possible. As a spiff, Bari promised to don her kid gloves and go easy.
Jon chuckled at her assurance. Bari Carter was no pussycat. A tigress fared as a better description.
A featured columnist in several newspapers, Bari had a knack for spotting a story. An attractive woman in her early forties, she graduated to the late night television arena and competed with the big names of the other networks. She placed her loyalties with the public, flattering herself a crusader of truth. If anything deserved full-blown coverage, Bari was quick to hustle her crew to the scene. One learned to take guard in her midst.
"It's great having you today," Bari Carter bubbled, flashing her dark eyes at him. "You certainly live up to your billing. I'm sure our audience agrees. Isn't this man terribly sexy?"
The studio audience went wild.
Bari gave him a warm, almost cozy reception. Crossing her fine legs and letting her hem ascend her thigh, she turned on the charm in a big way. Jon, accustomed to women drooling, made light of it. After all, he was television's reigning stud. Carefully holding his ego in check, he grinned and reddened. "You're much too kind, Bari."
The guest introduced before Jon, Wendy Sullivan, was equally entranced. The big-breasted star of a comedy series, Wendy moved closer to Jon, too.
"I love your Australian accent," she chattered, stroking his furry forearm. "It sounds so virile. Have you been down under recently?"
"That's rather personal."
Bari giggled like a schoolgirl. "You're quick, Jon."
He sensed she had a crush on him. He had no idea she was such a fan. Bari seemed all-business, not a tease. Briefly, he contemplated her performance in bed. He pictured her an aggressive lover, craving control. No doubt, her orgasm took precedence. Given the candid eye contact and seductive smile, he imagined that she dreamed of climbing into the sack with him.
Jon dismissed that notion. He much preferred the curvaceous script girl over the talk queen. Katie, he recalled her name. She had passed him a note with her phone number and address. He quietly pocketed the piece of paper without incident. Jon frequently amassed such invitations. He devoted a moment to her before totally rejecting her delicious proposition. His high visibility that moment made that kind of rendezvous difficult.
Wendy Sullivan brushed against him, reminding him she was available, too. Her big tits bumped his arm.
Jon found himself switching his thoughts to Buffy. The script girl and Wendy Sullivan caught his imagine, but Buffy was better. Thoughts of his luscious assistant brought contentment. Besides a pretty face and great body, she did an excellent job keeping him organized. He couldn't function without her.
And then, there was her intimate side. Jon loved that best. She was incredible, a sexual athlete. He had never known such pleasure. Their sessions were always intense, the outcome immensely gratifying. The mere thought of her made him stiff. He had no wish, given his current spotlight, to tease his cock. He was on the air and, therefore, in living rooms all across America. Carefully he filed her in the back of his mind. He also didn't want any miscommunication with Bari.
"Your show's been a hit from day one," Bari mentioned, continuing with her ego-stroking. "You've been ranked in the top ten for the past three years, which is no small feat. Have movie producers been baiting you to leave the series?"
"I'm committed to Guardian."
"Let me speak for your fans at large by saying that I hope you're around for another season."
Jon grinned. "I hope so, too. I just bought a new car and couldn't otherwise afford the payments."
The audience displayed their adoration with laughter and applause.
The remainder of his interview went unusually smooth. Jon couldn't believe he escaped unscathed. Her typical character assassination never came. Bari injected no venom, nor steered him to uncomfortable ground. She was her charming self to the commercial break.
Bari introduced her next guest, Michelle Nichols. The newest starlet and hottest sensation to hit the air waves, Michelle and her tantalizing assets were featured in a weekly medical series. Her acting skills weren't up to par, but her fans clamored for the enticing nurse she delivered. Dubbed Hollywood's Bad Girl, she kept tabloid reporters gainfully employed by her scandalous exploits. Her highly publicized marriage to three-times married rock star, Jet Springer, had been big news for quite a while. Rumors were in constant circulation about their party life. Michelle was only too happy to boast of her husband's physical endowment.
The five-foot-ten temptress, in full leather regalia, made a spectacular entrance. Resembling a dominatrix in her studded bodice and leather shorts, she halted and saluted her legion of fans. Her pumped up tits recklessly jiggled. She seemed oblivious to the intense heat delivered by the blazing overhead lights. She strutted onto the stage, throwing kisses to and winking at her wildly enthusiastic audience. Long, blonde hair whipped at her backside. Her six-inch spike heels clicked against the floor.
She took a seat beside Jon. She beamed at him, then returned her notice to the catcalling, restless viewers. Wolf whistles were plentiful. Michelle, getting off on the attention, clearly savored it.
"You look simply radiant, Michelle," Bari remarked when the uproar subsided. "Marriage certainly agrees with you."
"Yes," she sighed. "I've extremely happy. I owe it all to Jet. He makes it easy."
"Jet is a doting husband?"
"Absolutely. He takes care of my every need. Best lover I ever had." She broke into peals of wicked laughter. "Envy me, girls. Envy me."
"You certainly had quite a time." Bari consulted her notes. "Is it true you were thrown out of your hotel room after trashing it on your wedding night?"
"Trashing?" An eyebrow went up. "I don't understand."
"The drapes and carpet were smeared with whipped cream," Bari calmly reported. "Someone shook up bottle after bottle of Dom Perignon and sprayed valuable paintings that lined the walls. Furniture was broken. Worst of all, a piano was pushed out the window and fell fifteen stories. Fortunately, nobody was hurt."
Michelle waved a hand. "None of that happened, Bari darling. Your sources are incorrect. I recall nothing of the sort."
"The damages were estimated at thirty-five thousand dollars," Bari insisted, "exclusive of the piano."
"I don't know where you received your information, sweetie," Michelle said, playing down her allegations. "None of that happened."
Bari went on to the next item. "How did your former fianc', director Ed Harrison, react to the marriage?"
Michelle broke into a proud smile. "Eddie was his usual jealous self. He begged me repeatedly to reconsider, and when I refused, became despondent. I was his sun. He did not want to lose me."
Bari shook her head after checking her notes. "I show that he threw a party, celebrating his freedom."
Michelle sniffed at her. "He was emotionally injured. He sobbed hysterically on the phone."
"And what of former boyfriend, Kevin Peters, who produced the first film you made?"
"It shattered Kevin as well."
"He was angry, but not with the marriage. He claims you stole an expensive Rolex watch from his safe and hocked it."
Michelle giggled. "You have it wrong. He gave it to me. It was a token of his eternal affection."
"Is that why he drove your Mercedes in your pool?"
Michelle's jaw dropped. "How did you find that out."
"It's all here."
"Well, it's not true. Someone's telling tales out of school."
"What about the other men in your life?"
"I have no recollection of them. Jet is the only man I've ever cared for. Let's talk about him. Jet is so sweet and caring, and I love him so much-"
"Let me refresh your memory, Michelle," Bari offered, running a finger down her cue cards. "There was Hollywood gynecologist Harry Metter, who left his wife after your brief affair; psychic Norbert Wilke, who was your previous Svengali, and let's not forget Terry McFarland, the physician responsible for your breast enlargement. By the way, how are your implants holding out? Did you seek sufficient counseling before submitting to the surgery?"
Michelle's smile froze on her lips. "Let's drop it, shall we?"
Bari detected her strained tone, then turned to the cameras. "We'll be right back after a word from our sponsors."
Michelle saluted her fans in the audience, blowing more kisses and posing for snapshots. After a volley of flashcubes went off, she spoke to Bari in a no-nonsense tone. "You'd better lay off, honey, or I swear I'll walk-and won't come back. Pick on Jon or Big Tits over there. I've gone my round."
Jon snuck off to the men's room after the show was over. At one point, he expected Bari Carter and Michelle Nichols to come to blows. Bari refused to back down. Michelle's cheerful demeanor slowly unraveled until a cat fight appeared inevitable. Jon was certain Bari's relentless digging would culminate in a swift crack. Fortunately, time ran out. Michelle waved a warm farewell to the studio audience, then whirled about to flip Bari the finger before skipping off stage.
Bari was totally unfazed. Such gestures were commonplace from guests. "I hope to see you again. Soon." She clasped his hand longer that necessary. Her eyes twinkled.
Jon carefully disengaged himself from her silken tentacles. Bari Carter, although fetching, was not worth the aggravation an encounter would incur. He envisioned an explicit account published in her column and an entire show devoted to his sexual performance. "I had fun, and may do it again. Get in touch with my agent."
The men's room offered him a moment's reprieve. He took a pee, then splashed water on his face. Leaving the premises might be tricky. He anticipated a reception outside the studio before getting to his car. People generally tried for an autograph. Jon tolerated a few, but hated getting besieged by a veritable army. He was grateful to the public, but occasionally saw it as too demanding.
Upon leaving the room, he could hear the commotion building around the corner. The guards could barely control the crowd. An avalanche of program books, pocket cameras with blinding flashes and other headaches awaited. Jon groaned. When they got this wild, he envisioned another shirt ripped (with the pieces sold to the highest bidder), his toes smashed and his face shouted at. He dreaded the crushing press.
"Mr. Donahue," called a sexy voice. "This way." The cute script girl, Katie, signaled him. Apparently, she perceived his uneasiness, and offered a helping hand. "We'll ditch them."
Jon happily complied. Katie obviously knew all escape routes. Smiling, he followed her. "Thanks for coming to my rescue."
"Glad to be of service."
She led him down a hall that circumvented the crowd. The studio literally was a maze. Jon would never have figured it out on his own. Judging from their direction, she guided him to a remote exit, where he stood a better chance.
During their walk, Jon closely studied her. Katie was a sumptuous package: curves of velvet consistency, a pretty face and a seductive smile. Red curls were draped over her shoulders.
He especially liked the way that ass moved.
Katie was conscious of his inspection. She rolled her hips with purpose, bearing a smile.
Jon mentally undressed her. Without the distraction of the cameras, lights and a million critical eyes, he lapsed into a fantasy about that beautiful girl. She wasn't Buffy, but had much to contribute.
Katie comprehended his desire. They stopped at the end of the corridor, just before the double doors. Nodding to a small office, she crooked a finger.
Jon, catching her drift, wasn't far behind.
Seconds after she locked the door, Katie was down on her knees. Jon leaned against a desk and let her take it out. Her eyes sparkled at the big cock jutting from his pants.
"I've fantasized about having you," she softly confessed. "I use a vibrator while watching Guardian.'"
"Getting the real thing is a whole lot better."
She enclosed him. His shaft pulsed in her grip. "How true." She let out her tongue and slurped that mushroomed bulb. Feeling him trembling against her wriggling tip delivered a powerful thrill.
"Did you know what you were getting before you lured me in here?" he asked.
"You're bigger than I imagined, but I think I can handle it."
Katie lowered her mouth over the top while spiraling about the cum slit. Jon oozed from his tip. Sighing, Katie lapped it up. After introducing him to several moments of those stimulating whips, she clamped his cockhead and sucked. The tension gathered in Jon; Katie sensed it from the pull of her lips. His stomach muscles stirred as she alternated the pressure of her clasp.
"I believe you can handle it, Katie," he said, wincing as she licked him. "You like doing this, don't you?"
Katie didn't reply. Her lips squeaked with movement. Up and down that tall shaft she went, pulling on his bulbous head. She sucked hard, tasting Jon's salty heat. More of his creamy drops escaped, blending with her saliva. She orally stroked him, urging him to turn savage.
Jon watched as those lips traveled his span of cock. Their unbroken flow made him gasp and sweat. That titillating female knew her stuff. When the suction became too incredible, his head flew back. "Jesus," he gasped, reeling with ecstasy.
Her fingers curved around the thick base of his cock. She used her lips and hand to pleasure him. Katie sucked intensely while stroking him with her fist. Sticky with spit, he was easy to manipulate. His skin bunched beneath her tugging grasp. He stood steel-hard in her clutch, withstanding the scalding licks and puckering swirls she administered.
"Use your tongue, baby," he grunted. "I like tongue."
Taking her mouth off his rigid dick, Katie went to his balls. Within seconds of feeling her hot, wriggling tip, Jon trembled. Katie drenched those balls in hot saliva. Her luxuriant whisks had his cock twitching for more.
"Oh, yeah," he groaned, thrusting at her face. "Soak them, baby. I like the way that feels."
Katie slurped that taut skin. Jon's handsome face twisted beneath her lavish curls. Watching that transformation pleased her. She washed his balls in a wake of bubbles. His dick resembled a missile, pointing at the ceiling. She jerked his shaft while his sac moved under her tongue. He twitched furiously in her slippery grasp.
Beads of sweat formed at his temple. Jon exhaled sharply. "That's it. Oh, yeah."
His beat drove her wild. Attaching her mouth to his pouch, she made him drum. Hair was pasted to her tongue.
"Jesus," he gasped, wiping his brow. "Oh, Katie. You're amazing."
Saliva escaped from the corner of her bound lips. His balls glistened. Katie increased the amount of spit, purposely letting it drip.
His stomach quivered. Her butterfly licks brought that sweet jitteriness. Those green spheres followed his every shake while she disbursed her frothy trail. Those tiny electric shocks flowed to his shaft, which she leisurely stroked.
Gripping the desk, he jerked through her rousing clench. Grunting, he fucked her fist. The irregular motion of his hips heightened that enjoyment. His cock slid through her curled digits.
Katie's lips whisked over his taut pouch. Their silkiness excited him. The beat of his cock reflected the intensity of that thrill. He groaned, urging her to continue.
"More, baby," he croaked. "Yeah."
Katie obeyed, serving up more of that lip-brushing ecstasy. Jon responded heatedly to her submission.
"That feels so good," he groaned, shifting beneath her bubbly rotations so that she covered every part. "Lick those balls, Katie. Keep me wet. Run your tongue all over them. You know how to drive a man nuts. Oh, yeah. Make them juicy, baby."
Katie strove to complete his satisfaction. Her tongue skimmed his sac until foam inundated it. His dick strongly trembled in her clasp. She had both tongue and hand coordination down to perfection.
Having sufficiently moistened him, Katie unzipped the back of her dress. Jon saw the lacy bra that imprisoned those monsters. She permitted him to unfasten the catch. Rock-hard nipples sprang out at him. Katie had nice, big tits. Gathering her heavy breasts, she ran her rigid ends over his balls.
"Jesus," he gasped, savoring their palpitations. "Oh, yeah. Oh, Katie."
"Do you like that?" Katie whispered, tracing exotic patterns over that slick skin. Between the lather of her saliva and the prickle of hair, Katie relished a potent charge. "Does that feel good?"
He nodded, closing his eyes. "Don't stop."
Katie leaned into those balls, then dragged her nipples. "I like it, too."
The next several moments were spent tormenting him with those fleshy stubs. Before the flutter died, Katie nabbed the tip of his cock with her lips, then descended his length. He groaned as she sank to the root. She swallowed Jon's long dick. Into her warm throat he went.
"Christ," he gasped, watching himself disappear. "Oh, yeah, baby. It's gone."
Katie attacked the heavy vein of his underside. Her tongue vibrated him to the point of convulsion. Katie sucked fiercely on his shaft, willing him to cum. Their little intermission was definitely over; now Katie demanded a mouthful of jism.
"Mmmmm," Katie growled, pumping him with her lips. High and low she went, going faster. She sucked him with everything she had. Her thumbs toyed with his balls, then massaged his inner thighs. Her bare tits shifted over his hair-rough legs.
Jon's exhalations labored. She over-stimulated him. He hadn't expected such volatile action. Her hot, tickling suction accelerated his spiral. She pulled on him, gulping down his cock, then releasing it. The jerk of her lips was too much to handle. "Oh, baby. I'm going to explode."
Her first instinct was to prepare herself for that first splash. Instead, Katie tore her lips from his cock seconds before he spurted. Although she longed to have a star in her mouth at the moment of climax, she preferred dealing with his fulfillment separately. Katie watched his goo jet from the tip, then land on her tits. Its heat aroused her.
"Yes," Katie implored, "jizz on me. Shoot all over my tits."
"Ughhh. Ughhh. Ughhh."
He grimaced while splattering her. The excitement poured out of him, one squirt after another.
Moaning, Katie worked his sex cream over her nipples. It felt good, spreading that white stuff across her skin. A flurry of tingles arose through her body. During the final stages of discharge, she grabbed his cock and wiped its head around those hard pebbles. His cum trickled over those distended nubs.
"Yeah," she said, purring. She milked the last of his burning jism. He remained hard in her clasp. The cum slit opened to emit more of its pearly goo.
Jon took a moment to compose himself. His cheeks were flushed and his forehead clammy. He certainly didn't want a photographer to snap his picture, should one be hiding in the parking lot. "You did me good, baby. I'll give you a call sometime."
"You have my number," she pleasantly reminded. "And the next time there's a small part in your series, think of me."
He sighed. Katie was an opportunist, too. Hollywood was overpopulated by them. "Sure, baby. Why not? You'll give it some class."
CHAPTER SIX
"It was an accident. My hand slipped. I hadn't intended to strike her." Sharleen maintained her innocence while holding back the smirk.
"It was not!" charged a furious Patricia, fighting back a second onslaught of tears. "She did it on purpose! She wanted to hurt me!"
Sharleen sent her a withering look. Silently, she told the hysterical actress to shut the fuck up. The script called for her character to slap another after a vicious retort. Sharleen "failed" to cushion the blow. She watched, with growing disgust, how the director and crew swarmed around the traumatized girl. "I believe I'll go powder my nose. Call me when she's finished with her theatrics."
The director and producer exchanged looks. They usually bowed to their star's demands. "It's okay, sweetheart," one said, patting Patricia on the back. "We'll have your cheek x-rayed."
Angela, the head writer, trailed after Sharleen. She typically followed "her higliness," as the crew dubbed her, during such mishaps.
Sharleen rolled her eyes upon entering her dressing room. "Really," she sassed, "if that raving bitch was going to throw such a hissy fit, they should have used a double. How do they let these imposters in? They either manage to get through the transom, somehow.. .or do their bit on the casting couch."
"You're cruel," Angela pronounced. "You deliberately struck her. I wouldn't be surprised if she developed whiplash."
"Please, Angela, let's not exaggerate. She'll live." Sharleen took stock of the situation. Patricia was much too pampered. She hadn't a clue how to deliver a real performance. Her youth and inexperience precluded such an achievement. "When I think how I struggled up the ladder, paying my dues, polishing my craft-for what? To let some little bimbo upstage me? Not on your life. I want her written out."
"You know that's impossible. She's signed for the entire season. She's received favorable response from our viewers and the network adores her."
"Can't you arrange for her to get into some accident? She could lean too far out the window, or if you want to get really creative, have some radio-operated toy airplane hit her in the head. The collision could bring on brain damage. The ratings would go through the ceiling."
Angela smiled ruefully. "You never believed in good sportsmanship, have you, Sharleen?"
Sharleen shrewdly regarded Angela. The woman once confessed to harboring an infatuation for her. Although Angela wasn't secretive about her sexual preference, she never foisted herself on any of the women on the set. People did not identify her as of that persuasion. Raven-haired, brown-eyed and slim, Angela was alluring. Upon occasion, Sharleen flirted with the notion of having her. Fiercely open-minded, Sharleen's desires frequently veered beyond the lines of discrimination. A seduction had been in the planning stages for an eternity. The moment, however, never seemed right.
"Why aren't you on my side, Angela?" Sharleen asked, rising from her chair. She walked toward her, bearing a meaningful smile. "I was always able to count on you in the past. You've made Nora extremely popular. The dialogue you've written for me is brilliant. I owe my success to you." She caressed her arm.
Angela wasn't quick to invest anything in her bold approach. "What you're asking isn't ethical."
"I sincerely thought we had something special between us." Venturing from her arm, Sharleen began exploring new territory. She gradually drew Angela into an embrace. Their lips were almost within touch.
Angela couldn't help responding. Sharleen resurrected a dormant need. Angela immediately recognized it as a ploy, yet couldn't dispute its luxury. She had learned to curb her fascination for the sultry goddess. Though Sharleen was primarily straight, Angela knew of her sporadic crossing over to women.
Sharleen took control. Those disarming fingers fluttered down her back, then clasped her buttocks. Her squeeze elicited a sob from Angela. "I'd like us to be closer, if that's possible."
Angela's knees almost failed her. Sharleen's draped arm offered minimal support. "Perhaps we ought to continue this after filming has concluded for the day."
"I don't think I can wait."
The yearning in Sharleen's tone was genuine. Angela could tell she wasn't acting. The crotch pressing hers wasn't a figment of her imagination, either. Sharleen clasped her buttocks, foiling her escape. Angela's panties had grown damp from cunt seepage. She shivered as Sharleen intimately rubbed her.
"I believe I get the message," Angela whispered.
Sharleen's lips curved. "I was hoping you would."
Angela wanted to remove Sharleen's clothes and get to her fabulous body. Feeling her silky skin was imperative. She desperately wanted to get to her nipples before eating that most-fantasized pussy.
Sensing Angela's clambering need, Sharleen urgently stroked her. She navigated her to the sofa in her dressing room. She brushed her lips, offering a hint of tongue. Angela moaned. The least gesture accentuated her arousal.
"I've waited so long," Angela gushed, unable to hold back the flood of emotion. "This is real, honey."
Angela cupped the back of Sharleen's head and steered her lips to her mouth. Immediately, her tongue sought that warmth. Sharleen relished the quiver of her firm body. Angela's tits abutted hers. Locked to her, Sharleen sighed. She ran her hands down her back, then framed Angela's superb ass. Angela let out a delighted squeal at her stimulating grip. In response, she ground herself to Sharleen.
"Oh, God," Sharleen whimpered from that tingling rush. She rubbed against that warm, demanding mound. Excitement gripped her pussy. She longed to feel the rest of her skin. "Take everything off. Get naked. I want to see all of you."
Angela eagerly complied. Sharleen unzipped the back of her dress. Twisting her shoulders, she let it shimmy down her length. The slim figure Sharleen knew gradually revealed itself. Her mouth watered at the sight of her sleek flesh. She wore a transparent bra through which rock-hard nipples projected. Angela's dress continued its descent, exposing her tiny waist. Sharleen skimmed the flat of her stomach, then traced the dip of her matching diaphanous bottoms. Black fur curled behind the gauzy panel. The scent of wet pussy reached her nostrils.
Sharleen purred with delight. Angela wore sexy underwear. She eased off the transparent bra, exposing her ripe nipples. Sharleen's lips instantly went to them. Angela moaned at the stirring revolutions of her tongue, punctuated by soft sucking. Shivering, she rubbed her crotch against Sharleen. That damp friction caused her perfumed scent to waft.
"Oh, Sharleen-yes. Lick both of them, please."
Angela's nubs were candy-flavored. Her dark eyes lost focus as they were slurped. Angela's mouth dropped open, emitting a prolonged gasp. Sharleen tripped a hot wire. She carefully pulled the strings that yielded the most pulse-racing payback.
Sharleen divested herself of her outfit. Her dress fell to the floor. There was no point in wrinkling it before filming resumed.
Angela gazed at her with adoration. "You're magnificent."
Sharleen gestured for Angela to get on the sofa. The writer gladly obeyed. Passionately linked, they tumbled onto it. The cushions were soft, inviting. Their exquisite texture sharpened her appetite. She sucked Angela's tits with renewed vigor. Angela writhed against her, savoring her hungry pucker.
"Oh, God. Yes, Sharleen. Ohhhh." Angela groped her partner's mound. She squeezed until her palm became moist. Sharleen strongly responded to her ardent clasp. She pressed into the tender spot, then rotated her thumb.
Angela knew Sharleen was using sex to control her, but didn't care. Her desire for the beautiful star had lasted years. She wasn't sure whether to label it unrequited love or lust. At any rate, having her meant a great deal.
Sharleen's lips rose from her nipple. Angela clenched her teeth as hot drool coursed into her cleavage. Sharleen's tongue served as a barometer, measuring the disturbance in her body.
Sharleen stretched to access the drawer of her vanity and retrieved a battery-operated vibrator.
She briefly interrupted Angela's reverie. "Why do you have that in your dressing room?" she asked, her brow creased.
"It comes in handy. You know-the tension on the set, particularly after all the arguments. It offers quick relief and enables me to concentrate when we resume filming."
"Oh."
The hum almost seemed harmonious after she flicked the switch. She lowered its oscillating tip onto Angela's sensitive breasts. Instantly, she squirmed.
"Ohhhh," she sighed. "Yes. That feels good."
Sharleen watched Angela succumb to its lush vibrations. The vibrator had a tonic effect. She circulated its gratifying pulse to critical areas. She bordered those saliva-drenched nipples, then traveled across her navel and got excruciatingly close to her pussy. Sharleen outlined her pubic patch, observant to Angela's facial cast. The writer gyrated her hips, petitioning her to continue south.
"I love it," Angela moaned. "More. Ohhhh. Please, don't stop."
Sharleen didn't have the slightest intention.
Angela's pleasure blossomed. While she navigated that buzzing tip, Angela stroked her. She exuded a gentle caress, fluttering over her thighs and stomach. Her pussy became juicy from her delicate touch. Sharleen shifted, oozing with desire.
The plastic phallus deliberately missed Angela's crotch and went down her thigh. Its gyrations had her totally inflamed. She trembled with want.
"I want to lick you, Sharleen," Angela pleaded.
"Not yet." Sharleen's lips came down on her mouth. Her tongue descended. Angela moaned and hugged Sharleen. Before she could successfully wrap her legs around her, Sharleen applied the vibrating tip to her snatch.
"Ohhhh," Angela squealed. She twisted beneath its jittery assault. Sharleen centered on her clit, feeding her direct stimulation. A profusion of cunt leakage resulted from its relentless eddy.
"Mmmmm." Sharleen subjected Angela to her sweeping tongue. The additional excitation bombarded her senses. Angela surrendered to the vibrator's unswerving path. Although her hips jerked, she received the electric current Sharleen dispensed. She loved watching her shake. She also loved the pungent aroma that developed between those sleek legs.
Without warning, Sharleen discarded the vibrator and covered Angela's quivering form with her own. She bore down on Angela's aggravated mound, then ground against it.
"Oh, God," Angela whimpered, unready for that-brutal friction. "Ohhhh."
Sharleen's pussy was on fire. She plodded against Angela's sodden cunt, urging her to cum. A tingling shower afflicted her clit. Sharleen gasped from the delicious onslaught. She rubbed herself to Angela, generating sparks.
The writer undulated, pressing into her. Digging her heels into the cushions, she heatedly thrashed against Sharleen.
"Oh Sharleen," Angela whimpered from that groin massage, "keep going. Yes. I'm going to cum."
Their crushing exertions were equivalent to a dry hump. Pleasure swelled through Sharleen. She dragged her pussy back and forth over that tremulous mound. Angela's heat permeated her loins. The preliminary step with the vibrator had kindled a fire in her pussy. Sharleen scraped her crotch, bringing those flames to full combustion.
Angela's nails sank into Sharleen's shoulders. She gritted her teeth. "Ohhhh. I'm cumming.
Oh, God. I can't take anymore. Ohhhh."
Sharleen climaxed against that spasming mound. She shut her eyes and clutched Angela's seizure-ridden flesh. Exhaling sharply, she relished the satisfying release.
When Angela's contractions abated, she trailed kisses from her soft lips to her sweat-sprinkled breasts and down her quivering stomach. Sharleen licked the salty drops that settled in Angela's navel.
"Ohhhh," Angela sobbed, rolling her head from side to side. She involuntarily clawed the sofa's fabric. "Yes."
Smiling, Sharleen slipped the sheer panties over Angela's thighs. The bouquet of wet pussy caressed her senses. She inhaled the damp ringlets. Mmmmmmm. She could smell the remainder of Angela's explosive orgasm. She made her cum nicely.
Angela weakly shifted on her back. Ecstasy rippled through her ravaged body. She shivered from Sharleen's silky breath. What sped her pulse with a vengeance was the removal of her panties. Her pussy had no protection from Sharleen's disarming exhalations. In her dream-like swoon, she wasn't the least prepared when Sharleen's tongue slid into her moist groove, then descended into her cunt.
"Oh, Sharleen," she cried, her heart pounding. She threw back her head while Sharleen wiggled into her sodden recesses. Angela had no defense from her joyful stab.
Sharleen immobilized those snapping hips, then plunged fully into her snatch. She drank the sugary outcome of Angela's screaming climax. Her candied syrup flowed down her throat. She explored the hot, clutching squish with her sinuous tip. The more she twisted, the louder Angela shrieked.
Angela came alive under Sharleen's oral skill. She curved her body, determined to reciprocate. Sharleen's panties swam into view. She separated her tanned thighs, then pushed aside the panel that sheltered her pussy. Auburn fur emerged, framing a pair of sopping lips. Unable to check her appetite, she sank upon that pink flesh.
Sharleen's eyes rolled upward as Angela's tongue penetrated her. Briefly, her lips relinquished their grip on the woman's pussy. "Ohhhh."
Angela fed upon her honey supply. Sharleen's snatch was pure confection. She sucked greedily, downing the juices she seeped from her molten core.
Sharleen frantically reattached herself. The flow of Angela's liquefied excitement resumed. She divided her slippery folds, then dove to their heart. Angela vibrated against her drilling tongue. She countered Sharleen's slurps with her own.
Angela's tongue made Sharleen weep. She experienced her buoyant fervor in every lap. Sharleen spread her legs wider to receive that enthusiastic wiggle. She stuck her tongue into her pussy and gave it kittenish affection. Angela drank the nectar from her snatch.
Sharleen, in turn, imbibed the sap found in Angela's sweet loins. Angela squealed as she washed her clit in hot saliva.
The women sucked each other until orgasm was their sole recourse. Sharleen's convulsing flesh slapped Angela's face. Angela creamed in Sharleen's thirsty expression. They collapsed, struggling for air, a tangle of sweltering flesh.
Sharleen could taste and feel Angela's contractions. She cleaned her inner folds, licking the sugary film from those pink lips. Angela moaned as Sharleen dipped into her cunt, removing the glistening excess.
Angela floated into Sharleen's arms. She buried herself in Sharleen's nape, then worked her way up to her mouth. "I love you," she whispered in her ear. "I always have. Nobody else has meant more."
Sharleen's arms tightened around her. "I want our relationship to grow in importance."
"Can we be together later?" Angela asked, picking up the vibrator. "I want to spend the night like this."
"That's possible. But first, you have some scenes to rewrite, haven't you?"
Angela slowly exhaled. "You want me to get rid of Patricia?"
"Exactly."
She devoted some thought to its feasibility. "I suppose an accident could be arranged.. .and justified," she said, lowering the vibrator to Sharleen's nipples. "It might require some effort, but I could probably convince them the story of your television husband's affair has run its course."
"Make her departure brilliant. I wouldn't rule out the possibility of murder."
"Then it's settled." She moved the vibrator across her flesh. "Patricia will bite the dust."
"You do care, darling. I'm elated." The palpitations she fed Sharleen caused her to purr. "Things will be better than ever."
"I'll do whatever it takes to please you, Sharleen," she vowed, weaving toward her clit.
Sharleen shivered beneath the vibrator's swirls. Her lips parted as she concentrated on her inflamed button. Her hips moved, yet she couldn't escape its whirring splendor. "Ohhhh."
Angela writhed on top of her. "Do you like the way that feels."
"Oh, God."
Angela left no section unexplored. "We should be getting back to the set."
"They can wait," Sharleen murmured, climbing onto Angela. "I'm the star of the show."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Buffy held tightly to Jon while spasming. On the blanket, spread across the lawn, they thrashed. The manicured grounds of the huge estate camouflaged their steamy activities. The sheltering branches of a tree hid them from any discerning eye.
They haphazardly flung their clothes to the side. Passion had seized them with force. Neither could ignore the urge that simmered.
"I'm there," she sobbed. "Ohhhh. I'm there."
Jon studied her galloping form. Her breasts swayed above him, the nipples jutting. He flicked the sweat off them with his thumbs. That seemed to enhance her pleasure. Buffy reflected total joy as she peaked.
She buckled on his lap, wailing into the night. Her nails delved into his powerful shoulders as the sensation intensified. Her sweat continued to drip, splashing the dense forest that lined his chest. Up and down his thick cock she slid, taking all she could from it. After twisting against him, she went numb. That powerful orgasm depleted her. She collapsed over Jon's heaving figure.
She scarcely felt his gush of cum. His cock twitched in her pussy. He hoarsely unburdened his load.
Jon's arms went around her. She savored his show of affection. "Why aren't we married?" he quietly asked. "I suppose I should rephrase that. Why am I saddled with Sharleen?"
Buffy suppressed her giggle. 'Wow, what's wrong with her?"
"She's a control freak. Everything has to be her way. If she remotely encounters defiance from someone, she'll search out that person's weakness and use it to her advantage."
"You're being too harsh. She's merely resourceful, not cunning. Sharleen assumes a defensive posture only when necessary. It's her nature to be protective."
He smiled at her. "You're incredibly naive, but that's why I love you."
Buffy winced. "Love? You can't be serious."
"I am."
Buffy started to get up. "I'm freezing. The temperature has dropped ten or fifteen degrees since we left the house. I suggest we go in."
He clamped her wrist. "We're not done."
"I'm getting cold."
"Then let me warm you up." He drew her down to the blanket.
Buffy did not resist his pull of authority. Giving Jon sex was simple; anything beyond that disturbed her. Although it was difficult, she strove to avert polarizing her affections to either of the Donahues. She was loyal to both.
It was a peculiar arrangement-a couple sharing the same assistant in every conceivable way-but by Hollywood's standards, quite the norm.
Jon covered her with his entire body. Buffy savored his shaggy quality. He placed the brunt of his weight on his elbows. He nibbled on her lips. Buffy shivered at each pass of his teeth. His fingers traced luscious patterns on her skin. Goose pimples slowly took form.
"Is that better?" he whispered.
"We're definitely making progress."
He peered into her blue eyes. "Were you really cold, or was it what I said?"
Buffy looked off to the side. "We shouldn't be discussing this. That subject is taboo."
"Love?" He chuckled. "Why would you view that as a problem?"
"I like things the way they are. Why tamper with them? It'll only lead to unhappiness."
"For whom? Do you honestly believe I'm content with Sharleen? Let's face it, baby. She's a bitch."
"She has a lot of energy and ambition. You shouldn't fault her for that."
Buffy's defense of his wife endeared Jon. Tenderly, he caressed her. "She certainly did an excellent job brainwashing you. You bought the version she sells to the public."
She didn't feel comfortable participating in the discussion. It went deeper than worrying about Consuela swooping out of the bushes, shaking an admonishing finger. Maligning Sharleen's character was simply something she could not do. Smear campaigns were not her style. "Please, let's not talk about her."
Jon shifted. His coarse hair scraped her nipples. His cock, stiff from excitement, pressed against her naked flesh. The intimate arrangement of their limbs kept her lust thriving.
Jon promptly dropped the matter. He could see how deeply it bothered Buffy. Forcing Buffy to take sides wasn't fair of him. Besides, Sharleen wasn't the worst of mates. Compared to the shrews a few of his friends had married, Sharleen was a peach. She allowed him his sprees, such as the one he had just enjoyed on the lawn. Given his prominence on television, the snatch was endless. His appetite got the better of him.
He descended upon Buffy's lips. They were too luscious to resist. He kissed and nibbled on them until her mouth opened. Slowly, he introduced his tongue. He erased the negative impressions he'd spawned, letting her concentrate on his tingling sweep.
Buffy raked his back with her nails. She undulated beneath him, responding to his mounting heat. Jon really turned her on. There was never pretending on her part.
His tongue eventually came out. "Still cold?"
She shook her head.
"Still want to go in?"
Her hand dropped over his muscular buns. She sank her nails into them.
He interpreted that as "no."
Jon reached under Buffy and took hold of her ass. She had a nice one. Firm, smooth and yielding, it begged for his squeeze. He groped that butt, indulging himself. Buffy billowed, reacting to the pressure he exerted.
By manipulating her rump, Jon dragged his hard-on against her soft mound. Buffy's lips rounded at that solid mass connecting with her excited clit. Arching her spine, she prepared for another bout of intense spearing. She anticipated its toe-curling plunge. Her loins, moist from his spilled seed, were anxious to take him again. Feeling that thing burrow into her dominated her mind.
Jon's palm settled over her nipple just as she thrust it at him. Hard with excitement, it pulsed from his rotations. He flicked it, enjoying her guttural response.
Buffy moved like fire, responding to his touch. Jon fed her electricity. The sparks crackled through her system. Fresh juice, mingling with his disbursed jism, filled her cunt. He enclosed her raised nipples in a hungry snap. His tongue darted about, then vibrated them.
Her hands fluttered over his hairy chest and arms. The night breeze whipped at her. The sweat had long dried, but instead of enduring its freezing pelt, she heated up fast. Her pussy wanted more of Jon.
Jon mouthed those stiff peaks, then lapped them until they were juicy. His cock strained against her furry thatch, completely engorged. He felt like he could fuck for hours. His previous orgasm, though satisfying, had been an appetizer. He was prepared to give Buffy a real ride. Setting his lips over Buffy's nipple, he sucked. Her soft moan turned him on. He pulled on that velvety skin, relishing its flavor, then encompassed her quivering ass for another squeeze.
Buffy stroked his powerful back, then clawed his buttocks. Her nails delved into them. "Yeah, baby. Do me again. Let's make it happen."
He crushed her tender mound with his swollen cock. She ground herself to him, thrilling to his manly urgency. He was exquisitely hard. She loved when Jon turned into the virile beast. It made her conscious of her own sensuality. The way he got when they were naked totally delighted her. She could feel his hammering heart against her bosom.
Her legs opened. The insides were hot and sticky, hungry for action. She wanted him to cram that thick member into her. His dick settled into that juicy groove. He throbbed by her clit. Back and forth he moved without planting himself in her gelatinous pulp. More of his goo seeped from her cunt. His first explosion, which had flooded her, would simplify her intake the second time around. A well-endowed man, Jon had a lot to fuck.
Jon wasn't in a hurry to slide into her. He began kissing her again, building the tension. She enclosed his heavy shaft. Her fingers curled possessively around it, then locked. His resulting gasp motivated her. Her fist slid up and down his length, priming him. Jon didn't require additional stimulation-he was ready. Buffy merely wanted to inflame his senses. As it was, he fiercely palpitated.
Buffy steered the bulb of his cock to her soaked crevice. The head sank between those sappy lips until wedged. Jon groaned, then pushed himself into her.
"Yeah," she moaned, enjoying his fit. His long, rigid dick slid high into her moist channel. He flattened her to the blanket as he closed the distance between their bodies. Jon went in with cunt-opening precision. Her lips widened as she expanded around him. "Ohhhh."
Jon's pupils were glazed as he buried himself in her wet pussy. He jammed his cock to the hilt. Her vision became distorted as he fucked her. It felt so good, getting stroked by his big cock. His thrusts were strong and sure, plunging far into her cunt. She tightened around him, making him groan.
"Oh, yeah," Jon muttered, cramming himself into that sluiced opening. He gazed into Buffy's eyes, reading her enjoyment as he buried his cock. Her wet snatch took all he had to give. Coated with his cum, it never hesitated. He loved being smothered in cunt, gasping as those warm walls sucked his cock. He rammed into her soft, liquid center. He crushed her tits with his chest and felt the pinch of those hard nipples. Buffy's drenched pussy received his savage thrusts. She endured each piercing stab with a sob. Even on their second round, Buffy made it fun. She elevated herself, giving him something sweet to slice into. Huffing and puffing, he gave her the goods.
The slick noise of Buffy's pussy gliding over that taunt skin of his cock could be heard. Buffy was wet, but tight. He ran himself through those sweet lips, moaning from their suction. He speared her practically to the core. His balls bulged at her sopping entrance after she received him in total. He lingered, deep in her loins, savoring the quivering hug of her pussy. Buffy's nails grazed his butt, urging him to stay. When he backed out, she whimpered from the void he left.
Buffy purred while absorbing Jon. His hard dick excited her, massaging her pulpy innards. Each thrust transported her to paradise. Her heart drummed as she aimed her snatch to meet his probing member.
That big thing tugging back and forth, occupying her cunt, took its toll on her senses. Buffy trembled, fever-bright and struggling to breathe. Jon was going to make her cum as hard as before.
"Yes, baby," she urged him, wrapping her legs around him. She provided him the perfect angle to maximize her consumption. "Fuck me. Fuck my wet pussy. It wants all of you."
Jon, as usual, wanted Buffy to take her pleasure first. He drove himself into that constricting pulp, provoking her verbal outpour. All that friction wore at him. He nailed her good and hard, without pause.
Buffy ceased caressing his buns. Her fingers froze above his cheeks.
"Oh God. I'm cumming!" Buffy cried, buckling under him. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"
Jon's mouth dropped open as he felt her spasmodic crush. Her soft pussy was like a clammy fist, jerking him off. He swallowed roughly, giving himself over to the joy it afforded. He couldn't handle much of it. The skin of his cock, snagged by seizure-ridden muscle, was susceptible.
"I'm going to jizz," he muttered, slapping her stomach. Those huge breasts pummeled his chest, its matting entangling her nipples. Nothing could prevent the blast of his hot, jetting cum. He spasmed into her cunt. "Oh, Christ."
He gripped her hard, discharging the product of their heated session into that warm pussy. Although attempting to keep from totally losing it, he forfeited that battle. He pumped the sucking lips of her cunt, hammering into it. Sweat poured from his brow as he worked the turbulence out of his system.
Buffy moaned throughout the ordeal in splendor. She never minded when Jon unleashed his savagery upon finishing. She savored his hard thrusts so much, they precipitated another orgasm. She creamed while he jammed her with that big, stiff cock.
Jon held her close after he was through. Stroking her cheek, he studied her angelic expression. Why couldn't he be married to that beautiful girl? Why had he decided to stay hitched to someone he didn't love?
One day, he would have to do something about it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ted Ohmley, Sharleen's chauffeur, grinned at the two babes in his poolside digs. A pair of wraparound sunglasses covering his blue eyes were the only thing he wore. Propped by a bank of pillows, he stretched his bronzed body for their viewing enjoyment. His dick curved toward the ceiling, pumped with excitement.
"So," he said to the girls, thumbing his erection, "you want to meet Jon Donahue?"
Both gave an enthusiastic nod.
"You promised to introduce us," Melanie reminded. Blonde and busty, she wriggled out of a thong bikini. The absence of tan lines delighted Ted. The chick obviously believed in complete exposure. The bleached triangle between her legs was a nice touch.
"Yes," confirmed her shapely friend, Rebecca. Brunette and sleek, she discarded her seductive swimwear with a flourish. Smooth, golden flesh lurked beneath its cover. Rebecca boasted an extremely tiny waist and mouthwatering ass. She had shaved her pubic patch into an oval. "That was the deal."
His connection to the Donahues brought him such tantalizing moments. By merely dropping that name at Xanadu, a trendy L.A. club, he scored some free pussy. It wasn't as though Ted needed more. Sharleen supplied him all he could possibly want. His beach boy looks were more than adequate to buy him a night in the bed of his choice. The kick was in instantly snaring whomever attracted his eye. It was an extension of the privileges he enjoyed while in the Donahues' employ.
The girls knew they had to "put out" before he signaled Jon. He set that precondition prior to driving them to his place. Watching joy overtake their faces while they drove through the electronic gates and passing the enormous home added to his rush. They gazed at him with renewed respect and heightened lust.
By their prolonged gaze leveled at his cock, he detected mounting fascination. Neither wrinkled her nose, nor shrank from him. Their clothes came off when he whipped it out. His dick grew in size as they casted each article to the floor.
"Are you actresses?" he asked. "Or fans."
"Both." They joined him in bed from either side. His water bed pitched from the added weight.
Rebecca wasted no time. She brushed lips with Ted while caressing him. Her breasts grazed his bare chest. Ted traced her delicate jaw, savoring their intimate contact. Her lips were quite edible.
Without receiving instruction, Rebecca went down his neck and chest, distributing more of her spicy kisses. Rebecca, proficient with her tongue, punctuated her travel with some indulgent licks. She left traces of saliva while dragging her dark mane across his stomach.
His loins tingled. His cock jerked to attention, painfully hard. Her hair whisked around it, accentuating his thrill.
Melanie, sliding to him, kept his mouth busy with her tongue. Ted curled an arm around her sexy body. She warmed to his embrace. Her nipples scratched him, producing electric shocks. She flickered inside his mouth while he groaned. Her velvet skin kindled a barrage of sparks.
"Have you considered modeling?" Ted asked after they ended their kiss.
"I've been in a few magazines," she murmured, licking his ear. "Just nudes-no sex scenes."
"I dated a photographer," Rebecca said, venting her steamy breath over his cockhead. "He promised to present me to important people, but it never came about. The bastard just wanted blow jobs on demand."
"I wouldn't mind a walk-on on Guardian of the City."
"Yeah. That would be a cool stint."
Melanie's nipples, a dusty rose, seemed to ache for his mouth. Lowering his face, he absorbed one. Melanie ceased talking and exhaled strongly. He wiggled against that hard tip. She was absolutely yummy.
While he sucked Melanie's nub, Rebecca breathed heavily over his equipment. That warm draft kept his cock ramrod-straight. The veins vividly protruded through his taut skin.
Gently, she caressed his muscular legs. Rebecca's swirling touch stirred his blood. Across the bristly hairs she traveled. He anticipated some interesting slurps.
Rebecca's lips slipped around her cockhead. Her tongue coasted about his rim. She wrapped his dick in her fist and gently pulled. Using her other hand, she fondled his balls.
Ted listened to the muffled, animal sounds she made. That mouth descended on him, eager to please. He trembled from her hungry pull. Rebecca twisted and sucked, downing him in a frenzy.
Melanie contributed to his excitement. She, too, wished his satisfaction. Running her fingers through his hair, she alternately delivered each of her nipples to his mouth. Her guttural sigh when he drew powerfully upon them served a potent charge.
Rebecca's moist heat encased him. He trembled as her lips reached to his base, tugging at his shaft. Her fingertips continued to skim his balls. She lapped the large vein of his underside. His cock withstood her unrelenting stream of sucking kisses.
Ted stroked Melanie's satin flesh. The chick was built. His hands fit around her small waist. He savored her silken texture. An appetizing scent wafted from her blonde fur. He pulled her pussy to his mouth for an extended kiss. She shivered against him, crying out.
While teasing her soft mound, he pictured his cock inside it. He intended to open both of them with his big dick. There was nothing sweeter in life than stuffing himself into tight gash.
Ted's dick strained at Rebecca's expert tip. It yearned for more of her seductive dance. She plied his boner with an endless supply of licks. The veins of his cock projected. His width appeared too significant to orally contemplate. The span of her lips seemed comparatively small to complete the task.
Melanie's eyes glittered at his intimidating size. Her tongue trailed her top lip.
"The both of you ought to give it a try," Ted suggested. "Two tongues are better than one."
Dragging her well-sucked nipples down the length of his body, she eased herself next to Rebecca. The sight of two pretty faces between his legs made him throb. He watched as the sultry pair swept his cock. Both gazed dreamily at him as they moistened his shaft. Rebecca took possession of his bulbous head, while Melanie applied a diligent coat of saliva to the rest of him.
"Does it taste good?" he asked after a few moments of slurping. He elevated his hips, encouraging them. "Yeah. Get your mouths all over it. Make it sticky. Drag your tongues back and forth. Lick my balls, too."
Rebecca absorbed his bloated crown. Ted groaned as that ring sheathed him past the jutting edge. From the corner of her mouth, he saw her drool spill. She held fast to him, tormenting him with her wriggling tip. While he pulsed inside, she sucked some of his creamy leakage.
Ted wasn't near cumming. Those greedy lips merely extracted a few stray drops. The bulk of his excitement churned in his balls.
Melanie moistened his balls. Her tongue glided over the velvet sac with his sprinkle of hair. She distributed her bubbly froth in wide, imaginative arcs. Each swirl brought pricklish delight.
Ted's head sank into the pillows. All that hot stickiness sent him in orbit. He closed his eyes, relishing the various sensations bestowed him. The wet noises of tongue activity, punctuated by their grunts of satisfaction, echoed. Strands of hair tickled his skin, accentuated by their warm breath, as they slobbered him.
"Don't stop," Ted groaned, reeling in ecstasy. "Christ. That feels so good."
Rebecca, eying Melanie, got caught up in the frenzy. The gentle flow of that tongue on Ted's balls broke her concentration. Ideas took shape in her head after she saw that waltzing tip perform its magic.
Ted, oblivious to her game, relaxed and received pleasure.
Rebecca reached for Melanie's cunt. Her small hand enclosed that silky mound. Melanie moaned when she squeezed, yet continued making those balls shiny with spit. She pressed her thumb to her golden ringlets, coercing another cry.
"Yes," she whispered, jerking her hips. "Oh, yes."
Rebecca relished her response. The girl's juices ran down her massaging digits. Melanie's pussy opened from her persistent rub, exposing her to its pink mush. Her clit swelled at her fingertip. Rebecca centered upon it, madly jiggling her.
Melanie couldn't digest the sensations her friend fed her while simultaneously licking Ted's balls. Her tongue swerved from them as the whisking intensified.
With Ted's rotund cockhead in her mouth, Rebecca manipulated her love button. The sight of Melanie squirming under her gyrations made her wet.
Ted noticed Melanie's mounting anguish. His balls weren't recipients of her flutter, nor did her saliva cascade to his inner thighs as it had. He liked, however, seeing the blonde overwhelmed by the brunette. Watching two chicks go at it afforded visual stimulation.
Unable to keep her tongue where earlier instructed, she arched her back and moaned. Rebecca did not relent. She rubbed the hard pebble, enjoying the fluid that seeped from her flowered lips.
After fighting that luscious disturbance, Melanie slithered between Rebecca's legs and employed the same vibrant technique she had on Ted. Pushing back her glistening folds with her thumbs, she descended upon that succulent cunt. Her tip danced over the fragrant pink surface, gleaning it of moisture.
Rebecca sobbed and oozed beneath the flap of her tongue. Her lips dislodged from Ted's domed head. She obtained exactly the thrill she had hoped. Melanie lapped her clean.
Ted stroked himself while observing the girls. He fancied the licking sounds Melanie produced while involved between Rebecca's trembling legs. Her labored breathing kept him rigid. Ecstasy reflected in her face. Rebecca surrendered totally to that vivacious tip. Her distended nipples and trickling were clues to the satisfaction she achieved.
The swiveling activity of Melanie's cute ass brought an idea. He stared at the perfect formation of her behind and the tantalizing continuity of her thighs. He thought of the tight, young pussy at their center and trembled. Sticking himself into it was unavoidable.
He picked up those swaying cheeks. Melanie, engrossed in pussy eating, failed to lift her head. He saw her blonde tresses draped over Rebecca's crotch while she bobbed. Rebecca, rolling her head from side to side, caressed Melanie's shoulders. The girls were oblivious to his plan. He spread her thighs and feasted his eyes on the delectable arrangement of flesh and fur. Melanie was downright juicy.
"Ohhhh," Rebecca whimpered, undulating her hips. She elevated herself to meet Melanie's steady gobble. Euphoria flooded her.
"Mmmmm," Melanie hummed against her unfurled snatch. Her lips slid over the inflamed area, briskly dispensing joy. "Mmmmm."
Eating Rebecca drenched Melanie. The excitement gushed from her. Ted examined the evidence trickling from her unlocked cunt lips. He steered himself to that dripping orifice. His dick ached from painful extension. Those shifting buttocks sent him an invitation he couldn't refuse.
He leaned into that juicy crack. Melanie's pussy expanded at his oncoming pressure. It yielded to his manly push. Into that sucking enclosure he went. The knob of his cock disappeared. He pushed slowly into its spongy warmth, making an allowance for her adjustment. The space he demanded in that narrow channel required it.
Melanie removed her mouth from Rebecca and cried out. Ted's solid dick drove up her tender middle. She could not disregard that blunt, splitting sensation. Clutching her ass, he sent more into her quivering depths. Melanie jammed her knees into the mattress while accepting his delivery. Shaking, she clawed the sheets.
"How's that big dick feel?" he asked, smashing himself to her quaking form. "Isn't it what you need? You like 'em that size? Huh?"
"Oh, God," she sobbed, adjusting to it.
Ted leisurely pumped her. He thumped against those small butt cheeks. The sound of his cock sliding in and out of her wet pussy powerfully turned him on.
Despite the contortions she showed, Melanie shoved herself back at him. Her cunt craved more of him. He obviously scratched an itch. Even the pitch of her moans changed. Her cries were softer, yet voracious. He enabled her the kind of friction that brought orgasm fast.
"Yeah," he groaned, thrusting into that pussy. "Grab it. Take my cock."
Rebecca slid under them. Melanie propped herself to receive Ted doggie-style. She saw that thick shaft sink into the blonde's furry snatch. His sac bulged when fitting himself to capacity.
The sight of their joined flesh made her restless. Rebecca reached for Melanie's cunt with her tongue. Candied drops dissolved on her snake-like tip. She traced Melanie's pink borders, then lashed Ted's protruding cock. She licked his veins when they emerged from their gelatinous shelter. They gave his balls equal attention. A fresh coat of saliva replaced the one Melanie applied.
Ted threw his head back and groaned. He fucked Melanie harder, unable to check the impulse. Rebecca influenced his strokes. Their flesh slapped noisily.
Melanie regained her sight after several pounding moments. The hot lashing she took sent her spinning. Rebecca was beneath her, alternately tormenting her and Ted. The brown-haired pussy below her mouth looked too yummy to resist. Rebecca orchestrated some visually stirring moves.
Ted's powerful hands circled her waist. A second later, he pushed that thick monster into her soaked cunt. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes rolled upward as his awesome width plunged fully into her squishy center.
Never did he allow them to forget that a man was in charge.
Melanie descended upon Rebecca's snatch. Pinning back her moist flaps, she flickered over the glistening flesh. Her cunt sugars flowed into her mouth. Back and forth she went, scooping up that tasty leakage.
Rebecca moaned, collecting those hungry licks. Her tongue traveled aimlessly over Ted's balls before veering to his hefty stem and finally, Melanie's gaping pussy. She lapped the juices that dribbled around his dick.
Ted shafted Melanie until he felt the pulpy coil about him vibrate. He felt her impending orgasm. His cock slid in and out of her quivering grasp, speeding her release.
"Oh, God," she whimpered, unable to suck Rebecca another second. "Ohhhh. Ohhhh."
"That's it, baby," he grunted, cramming himself into that contracting pussy. "Grab a piece of it. Oh, yeah. It's going to take you where you want to go."
Melanie's joy emptied into Rebecca's throat. Raising her tongue, she caught the slapping balls and broad chunk of Ted driving into those juicy lips. She glazed their coupled flesh with her foamy saliva.
Ted smiled at having brought her to a screaming climax. Melanie, hitched to his thing, snapped her hips and rode out her pleasure. That cute butt repeatedly bounced off him and got spanked by his balls. He groaned from her recurring clench and release.
At length, Ted pulled his cock out of Melanie. The girl's shaking had somewhat subsided. He stayed with her through most of the storm. Having got her off, he dislodged himself from her pussy's cum-sticky depths.
Melanie, shuddering with orgasm, whimpered from his exit. Not only did that cunt-filling member satisfy her, but left a perceivable gap in her aching loins. She had wanted more of him, yet he had decided to retreat.
Rebecca's tongue became useful in sustaining her high. Those feline slurps induced her to cry out.
Ted installed himself between Rebecca's spread thighs. That slim brunette needed a taste of him, too. She writhed on her back, sucking the outpour from Melanie's cunt. He studied her sculpted thatch. Juice seeped from the wrinkled opening.
Sliding his hands under her fine ass, he adjusted the aim of his cock. In direct line with her pussy, he pressed his bulbous head into its pink gap.
"Yes," Rebecca cried, immediately reacting to his invasion. "Oh, yes. Ohhhh."
Ted sank into those warm, adhesive loins. He expelled stale air through gritted teeth while settling in her receptive cunt. "Christ, are you snug. I can barely fit myself in you. Come on, baby. Take me. Take all of me."
Rebecca sobbed while he pumped her. He stuck himself deeply into that close-fitting hole. Her slippery walls served as a cushion.
He could not see her face, but heard the sucking noises resume beneath Melanie. Lines of tension became real over the blonde's face. Her mouth quivered as Rebecca clamorously serviced her.
He fucked Rebecca in long, even strokes. There was no hurry in making her cum. He savored being inside that firm body. Cradling her ass, he delivered it slowly to his extended cock. Penetrating her juicy cunt, he let it crush him. Those ravenous lips clamped his trunk and elicited an animal growl.
"Your pussy feels so good," he whispered, gliding through her slick folds. "I just want to keep fucking it."
Rebecca pushed herself against him. His balls strained at her sopping entrance. She shivered while twisting herself to his imposing base.
"Ohhhh," Melanie sobbed. Her eyes closed, she swayed above Rebecca's face. The gulping sounds left nothing to the imagination. Rebecca continued to down her honey.
The need to shoot eventually outpaced him. His cum had churned long enough. He yanked himself from Rebecca's sappy cunthole and jizzed. He splashed Melanie's ecstatic features. His creamy fluid dripped from her chin onto Rebecca's crotch.
Rebecca apparently came, too, for her body pitched on the bed. Overcome by the luscious friction of his cock, she squealed with delight. His abrupt removal hadn't prevented her from achieving gratification.
Melanie kept her eyes closed, swimming before him with jism sprinkled over her cheeks.
"You are going to keep your promise?" Melanie asked afterward.
"Yes," Rebecca pressed.
"Girls, I am a man of my word." He picked up the phone on his nightstand and punched out a code. He had a direct line to the main house. "Consuela, is Mr. Donahue around? Great. May I speak to him?" He tossed the girls a wink while waiting for his employer.
Melanie and Rebecca exchanged an excited giggle.
"Jon? It's Ted. I have two beautiful, enthusiastic fans who are dying to meet you. Can you join us at my place?" He smiled. "We'll see you soon."
Melanie squealed. "Yes!"
Rebecca cheered. "Oh, God, this is the break we've been waiting for."
"I'm sure you'll impress him," Ted said, glancing at his limp cock. "You impressed the hell out of me."
CHAPTER NINE
Un-like her husband, Sharleen shunned television interviews. Having a microphone shoved in her face while under attack of an aggressive interviewer was hardly her idea of a great time. She evaluated the public airing of one's dirty laundry for money as a foolish practice. Live audiences further intimidated her. The producers of those shows couldn't pay her enough for that brand of abuse.
Magazine articles were more her style. She vastly preferred the privacy of her own home, where she and the interviewer could talk. More important, it enabled her to exert control over the material that was published.
Peter Hayes, representing Celebrity Magazine, entered the picture and vowed to abide by her rules. Sharleen deigned to meet with him after snubbing Bari Carter. After watching the segment featuring Jon and that hussy, Michelle Nichols, Sharleen avoided her at all cost. Her treatment of Michelle, though deserved, put Sharleen on alert about what Bari might have in store for her. She wasn't going to fall into that trap. Bari did not take rejection gracefully. Buffy, shielding her from the talk queen's many calls, relayed Bari's disgruntlement.
Sharleen showed no sympathy. "Fuck her."
Peter promised to avoid treading on delicate ground. He was by no means a slouch when it came to polished, in-depth coverage. He, like Bari, was unafraid of seeking the truth. In Sharleen's case, getting her story-even in censored form-outweighed its sensationalist elements.
Buffy was called upon to coordinate the entire event. She arranged the time, selected Sharleen's outfit (suitable for a photo session) and was responsible for reviewing preliminary questions beforehand. Sharleen wished no unsavory aspects of her past nonchalantly referred to.
She expected no trouble. Peter Hayes was a handsome, trim man of thirty, with thinning blond hair and a spruce look. Wearing stylish glasses, he struck his subjects as highly educated. Sharleen warmed to him immediately.
Buffy unconsciously kept tabs of the assigned photographer, Bob Kowalsky. Near her age, he intrigued her. His light brown hair and plain face wouldn't have garnered much attention in a singles' bar. Given his average looks, he invested tremendous effort in his body. Regular visits to a Health Club with heavy emphasis on weightlifting were apparent. Buffy drooled over him.
Peter and Sharleen ensconced themselves in the great room, where the furniture and lighting lent themselves to the occasion. Bob improved upon the illumination where needed. Buffy was more than happy to lend assistance.
Sharleen, clad in a dress with a plunging neckline, displayed ample cleavage. She whipped her auburn hair off her shoulders. Her skin had a satin finish. Peter intermittently glanced at that exposed section. Buffy could tell Sharleen planned it that way.
Peter depressed the "record" button on his tape machine. It was unobtrusively placed on the table in front of them. "You've been on Cable Harbor for several seasons," he began. "Do you envision staying with the show, or crossing over to feature films?"
"I have given thought to it. Perhaps if the right role came along.. . " She ended that statement with a flirtatious smile.
Encouraged, Peter ventured forth. "Is there a particular director you've fantasized about working with?"
"A few come to mind." She clicked off the hottest names in the business. "Of course, the project would have to be right, too."
A bulb flashed. Buffy glanced over at Bob, peering through his lens. He grinned into his camera. His athletic body was strategically positioned. She centered upon his tight ass and muscular thighs. He seemed oblivious to her heated study.
"How about some you've worked for in the past?" Peter prompted.
Sharleen beamed. "I'm proud to say that throughout my career, I've had the pleasure of being directed by some of Hollywood's brightest talent. Some I couldn't compliment enough."
"What of Jerry Weintraub?"
Her face darkened. "Don't ask me about that sonofabitch. He had this incredibly rude habit of pointing his finger in my face. I hated that. He accused me of being a fake-said I was just tits and ass. Can you imagine that?"
Peter shrugged.
Buffy winced. Sharleen blew her poised demeanor in a blink. Peter had inadvertently pressed a hot button.
Sharleen quickly recovered. Dropping a hand over Peter's thigh, she caressed him. "I shouldn't have said that. Don't print that, honey."
"Sure." Peter appeared vulnerable to her feathery graze. Clearing his throat, he went on. "Cable Harbor has boasted a stellar cast from its inception. Would you share your impressions of its members with us?"
"Certainly," she said, weaving seductively over his thigh.
Buffy got nervous. She prayed Sharleen would curb her flash temper.
"Summarize each actor in a few words." He read from a list. "William Tyler?"
"A complete gentleman. Witty. Very easy to block a scene with."
"Eleanor Royce?"
"Sweet, considerate, a consummate professional."
"Patricia Stewart?"
Her expression turned ugly. "A worthless cunt. Definitely overrated."
Buffy moaned. She had rehearsed the answers with Sharleen. Her coaching had been in vain.
Bob, the photographer, stopped himself from taking a picture. An incensed Sharleen Donahue wasn't what he wanted.
Peter's brow went up. "Patricia?"
"I'm fed up with that little snot," Sharleen exploded. "She's always whining about everything. She's complained to the production company that I'm too difficult to work with. Indeed! Personally, I don't give a shit what she thinks. She hasn't a clue whom she's fucking with. I can be a nasty bitch when provoked."
Peter, sensing a reason for Sharleen's outburst, hit the "stop" button, then rewound the tape.
"Thank you," Sharleen said, groping his thigh. "Please strike that from the record."
Peter wondered if he was going to have any salvageable material.
"You men must be parched," Sharleen said. "Buffy, dear, would you kindly fetch us some beverages?" She turned to Peter and Bob. "My housekeeper, Consuela, has the night off."
Buffy had made certain of that. She foresaw Consuela only getting in the way. The tension level was high enough, making sure Sharleen behaved herself. She didn't need that added aggravation. "I'll be right back."
Buffy noticed that Bob had tagged along. She speculated whether he had picked up on her horny vibrations during the shoot. She wasn't exactly discreet about it.
"Let me give you a hand," he offered.
She smiled. "Thanks."
They left Sharleen and Peter in muffled conversation. Buffy hoped Sharleen would try to compose herself. She had a tendency to be a little too candid.
"Do you live here, too?" Bob asked while Buffy opened the refrigerator.
She nodded. "I'm assistant to Jon and Sharleen. I schedule all their appointments."
"That's quite a responsibility." He sought her gaze. "You have quite a bit to juggle."
"I manage." She was conscious of the disturbance in her groin. Bob's husky tone eased her anxieties and had her pulse veering in a new direction.
"What's it like, living with two television stars?"
She removed the bottle of chilled Bordeaux. "Challenging, but fun."
"Let me help you with that," he insisted from behind. His arms surrounded her. Buffy shivered in his thinly concealed embrace. His muscles brushed her. His breath, drifting down the back of her dress, warmed her. She watched his competent hand remove the thick cork. "It's nice to have a man around upon occasion, wouldn't you say?"
His arms remained locked in place.
Unable to resist him, Buffy turned and drew his face to hers. She could not ignore the urge. He thoroughly riled her. Gently, she kissed him. Her tongue inched into his mouth. He groaned at her ticklish probe.
Bob disposed of the opened bottle. Her delicate hands moved across his chest, down to his belt buckle, and then lower. She trembled when encountering the hardness inside his jeans. She continued kissing him, traveling down the length of his body. Her lips neared that inflamed area.
"Oh, yes," he croaked, shuddering from her touch. The electrical flow she dispatched nearly short-circuited his system. He had scarcely concentrated while photographing her employer. Her surreptitious gaze aroused him.
Buffy unzipped his fly and freed his cock. She held his elongated shaft in her hand, savoring its rapid beat. He extended from his pants, large and thick. "Wow. You're really big."
"It could get bigger, if you try." Bob groaned as her fist went high and low. Painfully swollen, his dick burned in her grasp. He teetered on his heels, susceptible to that tingling coil.
Buffy, still caressing his thing, knelt in front of him. "I always like to see a man at his best," she murmured. She put her lips dangerously close to his swollen head, blowing a stream of warm air onto the sensitive skin. Her tongue darted from her mouth to stroke the bulbous cap.
Bob stood above her, his hands resting lightly on her golden hair, following her flickering path. Her lips were full and sensuous, her tongue a vibrant pink. Her eyes were fixed upon his tense expression. She measured his responsiveness lick by lick. He clenched his teeth and slowly ejected the stagnation that had been building in his lungs.
Buffy circled his velvet knob, tracing its outer edge. Her saliva glazed him. Tiny bubbles popped over his sensitive skin. She slithered to his base in a wake of foam. She pursued the heavy vein, then slurped his balls. She explored those coarse thighs with her fingers while tonguing his scrotum. His limbs were amply muscled. He quivered from her tantalizing loops. She washed his taut sac with spittle, gave it a kiss, then soared to the bloated crown.
Bob's vision doubled as she made her ascent. She coated his equipment with hot drool. Her wriggling movements caused his heart to drum.
He loved the things she did with her tongue. She'd mastered a number of tricks that kept him rigid. His cock stretched to her lips, aching for more of that bubbly wash.
Buffy parted her lips and engaged his purplish cockhead. He groaned as her mouth overtook him. Upon entering her oral warmth, her tongue went on thrilling him. She licked his underside while pulling him into her face. Her sucks provided an exhilarating jolt. She immersed him in her liquid heat. Foam clung to his cock while within her cheeks. Her spit rinsed him.
"Go for it, baby," he muttered, driving himself into her face. Those lips pulled hard and steady on him. "Yeah. Take it."
She extracted a tiny amount of cum from his shaft. That sample melted on her tongue. She sucked harder, searching for more. Her lips twisted around his shaft, inducing him to cum. She dared him to lose control and fill her mouth with jism. She thirsted for his creamy eruption.
"Christ, if you keep that up, I'm going to explode." He promptly detached himself from Buffy's puckering lips and dragged her to her feet. Her saliva dripped from his cock. A fire raged in his loins. He had been close to squirting. Only by a slim margin had he eluded orgasm. He longed to see all of her, to discard the clothing which had hidden her perfect body. "I want you naked."
Buffy, sobering at the thought of surrendering to him, remembered that they were expected in the Great Room. "I don't know what came over me. Sharleen and Peter are waiting."
"You can't leave me like this," he said, gesturing to his upright cock. "I want to finish."
"I'm sorry. It's my fault. This should never have happened."
He brought her tightly to him, descending upon those luscious lips. Once again, Buffy lost it. He savored the press of her as she pushed hard against his groin, grinding her pussy into him. He slid his hands behind her, feeling the firm cheeks of her ass.
He raised her dress above her waist. Her legs were long and strong, the muscles tight and powerful. She wore lacy underwear. Buffy's breasts swelled, in need of a mouth. He drooled over them. She had nice tits. The small waist magnified their size, and the narrow hips made them seem disproportionate.
"You're a dream," he said, marveling at her voluptuousness. "I kept wondering what you'd look like, and I have to say, you've exceeded my expectations."
Buffy did not hear Sharleen summoning her. She could only imagine what she and Peter Hayes were doing to pass the time.
Bob roamed the curves. Buffy's mound awaited his grope. He palmed that soft, spongy area. She gasped when he depressed his thumb in her damp spot. Blonde ringlets curved around his fingers. Her thatch framed a pair of inviting lips. He dipped his finger beneath them. The moist flaps separated, sucking him into her juicy crevice.
Buffy moaned loudly as he fingered her slick cunt. She bit her bottom lip as he delved into her hot succulence. He pumped her with his digit, listening to the noises her pussy made.
"I want to taste you," he muttered. He lifted her onto the counter, then bent his head to those luscious thighs. They surrounded him. Briefly, he stared into the pinkness of her waiting pussy. Her moist folds drew his appetite. "You smell good. I'll bet you're just as sweet."
Buffy did not try to keep him from reaching his target.
Bob began kissing her thighs, tracing the flesh with his tongue and moving slowly to her open heat. Finally, he arrived at her outer lips. Buffy held her breath as he slurped her pussy. He followed the palatable flesh up and around, coming back to her slit. He poised at the entrance of her snatch, loving the spouting juices.
When he finally entered her with his tongue, slicing into mush, Buffy sighed. He wriggled his way to the bottom. She leaned back on the countertop and spread her legs. Swiveling her hips, she moved in circles against his mouth. Bob sensed, through her gyrations, her need for him to go even deeper.
"Mmmmm," he hummed against that horny pussy. He lumbered through her crushing pulp.
"Oh, God," Buffy sobbed, shaking. "Don't stop."
Bob withdrew from her pussy and attacked her clit, biting and sucking the tiny bud. Buffy went wild with passion, thrusting her hips at him, begging him to stay with her.
"That feels good," she squealed, raking his hair with her nails. She fixed an eye on that undulating tip. No amount of bucking separated her from it. That tongue stretched to meet her wet pussy. He orbited her love button, then slashed across it. His loops brought a shiver. Her eyes closed as his rhythm intensified.
Bob greedily downed those cunt sugars. Buffy's rapture gushed into his mouth.
Abruptly, Buffy raised herself and allowed orgasm to sweep her body. Bob felt every tremor as the energy exploded from her sodden core and scattered like a volcanic eruption to her extremities.
When she had calmed herself, Buffy became more excited than before. She fingered her sopping cunt flesh. Her digit swirled over the slick folds, then delved into the crevice. Her lips formed a ring while she pumped herself. "Put your cock inside me," she moaned. "I can't stand it. I need something hard."
Bob had held his hunger at bay far too long. He craved those juicy, cock-grabbing pussy lips. Bunching her nipples together, he took them into his mouth. He sucked her tits, tonguing the sweet flesh. He ravenously attached his mouth while throttling those nuggets.
"Ohhhh," Buffy whimpered, smothering his face with her billowy globes.
He moved his hands between her thighs and stroked her mound. Her snatch gradually opened. He stuck a finger into her crevice and explored its squishy boundaries. Wet sounds emanated from its drenched folds.
Moaning, Buffy enclosed his cock. Gently she handled him. The skin of his shaft bunched in her fist as she pulled on him. "I want you to fuck me."
Bob withdrew his finger and licked her nectar from it. He couldn't get enough of Buffy's flavor-rich pussy. He could taste the desire that had seeped from her loins.
"Come on, baby," she cooed, tugging on his engorged member, "jam me. I want to feel your whole cock. Stick it into my pussy."
Another drop of hot goo emerged from his tip. Buffy's masturbatory grip siphoned it. Gritting his teeth, he carefully exhaled. If he spent another second in her fist, he'd erupt.
Buffy, perceiving his precarious condition, automatically released him.
Bob lined himself up between her thighs. His dick pulsated wildly. Buffy directed the bulbous head to her cunt. Slowly, Bob dove into those sappy lips. She expanded to receive him. He groaned as that pussy absorbed his rigid cock. Her cunt noisily gobbled him to the root. He cupped her ass and dragged her flush with his body.
Buffy comprehended his ferocious beat. She bathed in the glow of his contortions while she wrapped herself around that manly bone. She watched his agony as he charged up her middle.
Bob opened his eyes shortly after reaching bottom. He loved their snug fit. Buffy cried out as he crammed himself into her gut. Without verbalizing her opinion, he could tell she had thoroughly enjoyed his descent. The splash of color in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes confirmed it.
Buffy sighed with delight, feeling his throbbing mass firmly embedded between her swollen sex lips. She was acutely aware of how much space he monopolized inside her. He stretched her wide. Slowly, her thighs closed around him.
"Yes," she sighed, connecting to that hardest part of him. "Oh yes."
Buffy reached behind Bob and stroked his buttocks. Her nails all but depressed into his compact buns. In the heat of passion, she became wanton. She began gyrating against him, rubbing him with her moist pussy lips. His cock moved in and out of her cunthole, oiling his taut skin.
"I want you deep," she whispered, pelting him with her groin. "Yeah. As far as you can go."
Bob proved he was quite capable of that. The urge to cum was stronger than ever. Buffy's pussy squeezed him to the quick. She manipulated him with those wet, sapping lips. He grunted as the temptation rose steadily through him. The jism churned in his balls.
Buffy, alert to his fragile state, pushed him away. She jumped off the counter and turned her back toward him. Leaning against the top, she spread her legs and wriggled her fine ass at him. Holding his cock, she steered him to her juicy crack.
Bob entered her from the rear. He watched his dick disappear between those sumptuous cheeks, into that sluiced hole. Buffy widened to allow his pulsating shaft access. She adjusted to his width after that long, penetrating slide.
Buffy moaned in ecstasy as he filled her again. She began pumping against him in circles. Her pussy squeaked against his thrusting cock. His balls spanked her backside. Her lips quivered as his dick slid in and out, keeping her open.
"You're really hot, baby," he said while pumping her. "You really like cock. I can feel how much."
Buffy thanked her lucky stars Consuela was absent from the house. Had the fault-finding housekeeper been present, she would have never heard the end of it.
Buffy detached herself from Bob and turned toward him. She was breathless and overheated. The hunger on her lips was plain. Her fingers curled around his cock. His fist went up and down his greased shaft. She slid to the floor, bringing Bob down with her. She writhed in uncontrolled passion on the tile. She couldn't stay still.
Bob knelt between her thighs, holding his cock. He navigated himself to her pink slit. He pressed the bulbous head into that soaked groove, then pushed his meat deep into her cunt. Buffy provided him a cozy receptacle for his throbbing burden. She sobbed as he tunneled into her warm flesh. Her legs locked about his waist. The light in her eyes temporarily glared as she took him to the hilt. His snatch was bursting with cock.
Their rhythms became evenly matched. He buried it between those sleek legs. He heard her pussy disengage his dick after each probing stroke.
"Yeah," she whimpered as he stuffed her. "Oh, yeah. More. Harder."
Bob's knees hurt against the tile, yet he maintained his immediate comfort was a small price for the pleasure he received. Their flesh slapped in harmony, sticky with sweat. He pumped that tingling mush. Buffy's snatch gripped him. Its hungry embrace caused him to grunt. He was going to feed it hot cum. Each push into those puckered lips brought him to the brink of explosion.
Realizing he was about to spew, Bob pulled out of her. His cock was bright red and throbbing. Buffy reached out and held it. She rolled on her stomach, then elevated herself with hands and knees. She waited, holding her breath.
Bob aligned himself with those puffy lips. The impulse to jerk off and squirt all over them attacked him. Gritting his teeth, he sank into her cunt.
"Oh, God. Ohhhh."
Buffy slid forward, moaning loudly as he began pumping her from the rear. Again, he filled her pussy with cock. Pinching her nipples, he played with her breasts. Electricity flowed from his fingertips.
Buffy contracted heavily around Bob. He savored the intensity of her orgasm moments before spending himself. He finished at a rougher pace, slamming into her mound. She moaned, feeling his hot injection. Sweat coursed down his agonized features as he emptied himself.
Neither of them noticed the camera outside the kitchen window. Their orgasmic cries obscured the whirring sound of the motor.
"God," Peter croaked, slumping into the sofa as Sharleen fastened her fingers around him and jerked. His cock stretched from his fly, captured by her fist. The star of Cable Harbor certainly didn't waist time. She took it out and gave it an intrigued shake.
The urge to hold that dick couldn't be squelched. Peter throbbed in her grip. Her fingers tightened about his manly bulk. "Fuck the interview. Let's really get to know each other. I always believed there's only one, true way."
"Will this be cool with your husband?"
"Jon doesn't give a rat's ass whom I fuck."
Peter groaned as she breathed over his sensitive skin. He didn't want Bob to find them-or worse, her husband. Despite her assertion, he didn't want to test it.
Sharleen hadn't been the least concerned.
She switched off his recorder and kneeled in front of him as though it were quite natural. He couldn't think clearly as she massaged him to complete hardness. "This might not be a good idea. The others will be back."
"Then they can join us," she calmly replied. Her lips neared his boner. She loving looking at one before taking it into her mouth.
Peter groped for another reason, but Sharleen interrupted his thoughts. She licked him slowly, detecting the beat of his cock. Circling the slit at the top, she coaxed out a bead of cum. Peter could not refrain from oozing onto her serpentine tip. His creamy goo dissolved at once.
"Jesus," he said, sinking into the cushions. There was no fighting her-no escape from that slithering tongue. His resistance waned. He gasped as she flicked over his bulbous head.
Sharleen encompassed his knob while squeezing him with her hand. She sensed his compliance. She savored his pulsations while he fucked her mouth. She got even more wet from that pi stoning action.
She sucked the wide, round head of his dick. The rim was heavy, the tip velvet-soft. She licked the cumhole until it split and more of his male fluid seeped. She gulped it down, then drew strongly for another drop. Her taste buds clamored for that sample.
Peter caressed her head. Her amber hair tumbled over his lap. He smoothed it away, wanting no obstruction. He watched her absorb him. Lifting himself from his seat, he increased her supply of meat. Her bottom lip crushed the vein of his underside.
Sharleen gave an excellent blow job. To hell with it, he decided. If she was going to suck him, he intended to enjoy it. "Oh, yeah," he groaned.
Sharleen sucked harder on him. She sensed steam coming from his cock. Applying her juicy stamp, she caused his chest to rise and fall. She knew it felt good, but did not solicit an evaluation.
Peter exhaled, his voice strained. His small gasps were interspersed with incoherent words. Peter bore a distant look-the one he displayed prior to cumming. His mouth went slack. "Whew. Great head."
"I've hardly got started." Sharleen was more aroused than ever. Peter appreciated each nibble and slurp. She took possession of his cock, rubbing it with her and lips.
"Yeah," he muttered. "Take more."
Sharleen put her mouth on his dick and ran her tongue all over it. She sucked him very hard. Peter struggled for air. Nearly everything she did excited him.
She lowered her face, taking his cock deeper in her mouth. His fierce throbbing, combined with his salty flavor, made her tingle. His manly taste drove her wild.
He followed her steady bob. "Suck it," Peter ordered, stuffing himself into that quivering ring. "Love me with those lips. Oh, yeah."
Her curled fingers moved up and down his length. The caress she administered never slowed. She watched his joy blossom. His blue pupils followed the flow of her lips.
"Mmmmm," she moaned, eating him.
Sharleen worked him over with her mouth. That dick stretched into her throat. Peter enjoyed her soft, affectionate pucker. His groan of approval was constant while she devoured him. She took huge mouthfuls of that large cock, savoring his inflamed part. She wanted him to enjoy every lip-smacking, tongue-tantalizing moment.
The itch to fuck that big cock grew stronger. She thought about abruptly mounting it. Instead, she resolved to suck him straight to orgasm. Straddling Peter while he fought to catch his breath seemed preferable. She thought about him gushing inside her cheeks. She fancied gulping that hot, dense goo. Having him explode inside her mouth while she downed his every squirt held appeal.
"Oh, yeah," Peter muttered, as her mouth traveled up and down his thing. She sucked him nonstop. While orally containing him, she tickled the large vein with her tongue. Her lips sheathed that cock as though they were part of its skin. She plunged over that shaft, swooping to the base, then rose to the head. She kept herself attuned to Peter's groans. He shook within her mouth.
Sounds drifted from the kitchen. A woman's moans were broken by the distinct slap of flesh. His partner apparently was getting lucky, too. Given that, Peter began to greatly relax and appreciate what Sharleen offered.
She lashed him with scalding drool. Peter's cock baked from it. She sighed, coating the bloated crown. She perceived his battle for air.
Peter softly detached her mouth and guided Sharleen onto her back. He covered her nipple with his mouth. The suck Peter gave caused her to abandon control. Those lazy slurps brought her to peak arousal.
"Ohhhh," Sharleen sobbed as Peter lapped her nipple. It swelled in his mouth. She fondled his head, writhing, enjoying the sensation. Rivulets of saliva streamed down her tit, only to be cleaned. Peter attended to the sizzling bubbles as quickly as they took form. His sweeping tip drove her mad.
She pushed her thighs apart to permit him entrance. Normally, Sharleen did not fuck those she sought to control. Peter, she decided, was an exception.
He eased his lean body over hers, taking care in positioning himself. Supporting himself with his elbows, he dug his knees into the cushions. His dick lay on her stomach, long and pulsating. She shifted beneath him, wanting it buried between her legs.
Peter stuck his cock into her wet opening. The lips spread apart around his blunt helmet. He pressed into that wet, spongy warmth. His dick gradually sank into her cunt.
"Do it," she whimpered, feeling his descent. "Put it inside me."
His chest dropped over her tits. She relished his manly texture. Smoothing her fingertips over those muscled forearms brought a thrill.
His dick sliced into her. Its burgeoning hardness drove through Sharleen like a heat-seeking missile. She shoved her pussy at it, welcoming the fit. Peter pushed until his whole cock was in her pussy.
"Jesus," Peter grunted, groping her shoulders. His lips separated and all the air trapped his in lungs came rushing out. The connection was incredibly sweet. Her snatch locked around him. Her eyes assumed a detached quality.
Ecstasy reflected in her face.
Sharleen's nails delved into his shoulder. Her lips rounded as he dug deeply into her hole.
He started pumping her. The soft, slapping sounds reverberated. "Oh, baby. It feels great to be in there."
Sharleen purred as Peter fucked her. His rhythm pleased her. His cock felt good, sliding back and forth, stoking her. Looping her legs about his waist, she yearned for his deepest thrusts. "Fuck me, Peter. Fuck me. Fuck me good."
Peter recognized the depth of her arousal. He heard the juicy sounds from her snatch when snagging his cock's skin. She smiled deliriously before her eyes glazed over. She panted for the brush of his cock. That slick, grinding sensation propelled her.
Sharleen lightly scratched his flexing buttocks. She moaned as he crammed himself to capacity. She mewled at the warm, riveting action taking place between her legs. They linked the most excited parts of their bodies together. Containing him yielded tremendous excitement. When Peter impaled her with everything he had, her toes curled. Sharleen loved the cracking strain, the invigorating rush.
His lips found hers. A fever raged through her from that brief, yet rousing circuit. Their tongues darted, attracting each other's tip.
They fucked harder, gathering steam. His cock plunged to the very bottom. He drove into her, demanding everything in return. Her nails dug into his flesh, urging her to capitulation. She whimpered, her pleasure accelerating. She thought about climbing onto his lap and straddle-fucking him. Peter nailed her ass to the sofa cushions. He sweetly negated a change in position.
"Ohhhh."
The rasping sound Peter evoked alerted her to his impending orgasm. Sharleen was at the verge of cumming, too. Her need for it was all-consuming.
Peter gripped Sharleen tighter. She could feel her surrender. She opened herself to him, letting that cock hammer her pussy. "Yes. Keep going. Fuck me. Fuck me hard."
"I'm going to cum."
"Oh, yes, Peter," Sharleen squealed, recognizing those tremors. "Oh yes. Do it."
"Ughhh!" Peter discharged himself into her cunt. That hot, gooey collection was confined to her warm, welcoming receptacle.
That orgasm quenched her thirst. She shuddered hard and long, basking in that moment of spent pleasure. Peter did her good. She tingled from their lovemaking.
Unbeknown to her, someone had recorded their steamy activity on film. A camera, hidden at the window, steadily went through one ream after another, capturing every pulse-racing moment. The operator of that equipment fogged its lens while digesting Sharleen's performance.
The queen of nighttime soaps was about to topple from her throne.
CHAPTER TEN
"What did I tell you, girls?" Ted said as Jon entered his poolside cabin. "In Hollywood, dreams really do come true."
Melanie and Rebecca squealed with delight as Jon Donahue stepped through the door. He looked much sexier in person than he did on television.
Upon seeing the two naked girls, Jon grinned. "Were you having a private party, Ted?"
"I've warmed them up for you," the chauffeur modestly explained. "They begged me for an introduction."
"We've been dying to meet you," Melanie said, rising from the bed. Her big tits bounced as she made her approach. "You can't imagine what it means when a girl finally faces the star of her sexual fantasies."
Jon regarded those large breasts and hard nipples. "Tell me about it, baby. I enjoy hearing from my fans."
"We are your fans," Rebecca confirmed, moving toward him. "Guardian is our favorite show, and you 're the reason."
Jon checked out the luscious brunette. She had an incredible body. The oval-shaped thatch was a sweet touch. "It's nice to be appreciated."
"Words couldn't adequately describe the thrill we feel," Melanie said, taking his arm. "Showing you would be much better."
"Yes," Rebecca softly pleaded, "in our own, special way."
"I definitely believe in artistic expression," Jon said, surrendering to them. "Please, do so."
Ted smirked. Jon nicely played his hand. His ego did not enter the picture. Some stars would have judged the girls' worship their due. Jon's modesty scored him big points. The girls would feel that until they discovered what was hiding in his pants.
The usual look of disbelief amused Ted. He loved when pleasant shock registered. Jon's physical endowment had that effect. Once beholding his dick, a zealous fan yearned to make it squirt.
The girls flanked him. Jon sat on the edge of the bed, allowing them to touch him as desired. Their boldness intrigued him. Melanie devoured his lips while Rebecca unbuttoned his shirt. He opened his mouth to receive the blonde's spirited tongue. The brunette roamed his furry chest, letting his thick matting swirl between her fingers. Finding his nipple, she kissed it. Melanie's oral probe accentuated the pleasure that shot through his body.
Jon groaned. The girls' feathery touch gave him a ferocious appetite. He was aware of the hard-on growing in his pants.
Melanie, withdrawing from his mouth, stroked Jon. "It's an honor to be with you, Mr. Donahue."
"Please," he said, yielding to the electrical surge. "For tonight, I'm Jon."
She skimmed the length of his other thigh. "Tell us what you like. We'll do anything you want. We want it to be memorable." Within an inch of his crotch, she halted. The hard swell in his pants drew her attention. She rotated her thumb over the massive shape. . "I'd rather your instincts guided you," he calmly said. "Intuition is a wonderful gift."
Rebecca boldly took a handful of his equipment. Her clasp stimulated him. Meanwhile, Melanie's lips pressed to his. Rebecca massaged his bulge, enhancing the charge he received. Pleasurable warmth spread throughout his body.
Although the girls had exhausted him, Ted couldn't help getting aroused by what they did to Jon. His dick instantly hardened. He fondled it while studying the trio in his bed, and wondered when opportunity might beckon.
"Wow," Rebecca remarked, tracing the outline of Jon's cock. "He's huge."
Melanie glanced down. "He sure is."
"Think you girls can handle it?" Jon asked.
"Yeah," Rebecca purred, "we'll take you on." She groped his boner. "Mmmmm. You're all man."
"Hey, Ted," Jon quipped, "I could use a little help with these two. They look awfully ferocious."
"Sure, boss," Ted said, eyeing Rebecca's mouth-watering ass, "glad to be of service."
Melanie teethed Jon's ear lobe. Her lick aroused him. "I'm really turned on," she whispered. Streaming through the fuck carpet covering his chest, she found his nipple. She applied her wet tongue to it.
"Yeah," Jon groaned, loving the chills she fed him. Rebecca stroked him through his trousers. He swelled painfully in her grip.
Melanie steered him to her pussy. He enclosed the damp nest of curls. The girl oozed with desire. Her assertions weren't fabricated; she was truly excited. His thumb sank into her wet mound.
"Ohhhh," she sobbed after that unexpected squeeze.
Ted framed Rebecca's ass with his hands.
Her rump was baby soft. He separated those cheeks until her slick lips winked at him. Moaning, she shifted in his clasp. The need to slide into her cunt propelled him. He steered his bulbous head to that sticky opening, then pushed.
"Oh, God," Rebecca whimpered as it went in. "Ohhhh."
She was just as tight as before. He fucked that tight pussy, sawing in and out of it. Once captured, Ted savored her squishy pull. She yanked on him while moving her hips. He gasped. "Jon, this pussy is so wet, it's talking to me."
"Yeah," he said while Melanie played with his cock. "I can hear it."
Ted became lost in Rebecca's engulfing heat. "Yeah, baby," he grunted, tunneling into her, "let's do it again. Make the earth move for me."
The girls perfumed the air with snatch. Jon opened Melanie's cunt lips with a twist, then sank a finger in the hole. He met no resistance. It conceded to his push.
"Oh, yes," she moaned, shivering. "Ohhhh."
He studied her beautiful face while probing her gelatinous pulp. The girl's eyes sparkled and her lips formed a ring as he explored that soaked crevice. Her hips moved to accommodate him. Back and forth that cute ass jerked as she fucked his finger. She gripped his hairy forearm in the heat of passion. Her thrill was total.
Jon yearned to give her the real thing. That girl wanted a star in her pussy.
Rebecca sobbed as Ted pumped her. He crammed himself between her legs, watching himself disappear. Those juicy lips would not release him. He felt himself getting sucked to the bottom. Even when he reversed direction, she drew him to her molten core. His balls struck her butt cheeks repeatedly, compensating her for the pleasure she gave. She squeezed him in return.
"Aren't they hot?" Ted muttered to Jon. "Without a doubt."
Melanie unfastened Jon's belt, then undid the top button of his pants. Her anticipation mounted. The tremors in his body influenced her. She wanted to quickly get to the source of his sexual power. The bulge he sported magnified her appetite.
Jon continued fingering her. She produced fascinating wet sounds. She had a heavenly look on her face. He groaned while pumping her slippery hole. He enjoyed finger-fucking her.
His dick swelled to giant proportions. Melanie had difficulty unzipping him. The metal tag vehemently refused to go over the cumbersome roll that tented his front. She flattened her palm over that ballooned cock and finally negotiated that rigid incline. After several tugs, she made it to the other side. When she slipped a hand into the opening to claim him, her eyes widened.
"Jesus," Rebecca sobbed, seeing it emerge. Ted's pleasure-giving thrusts did not diminish her delight. "It's gorgeous."
Melanie grew all the more excited while running it briskly through her fist. Her pussy tightened around his embedded finger. "It's mine."
"Bullshit." Rebecca disconnected herself from Ted. Her pussy smarted from the vacuum his departure created, but her need for a share of the goods outweighed that loss. "I want some of him, too."
Jon was amused that two delectable females would fight over his equipment. "Both of you can have it."
Rebecca confiscated Jon from Melanie. Eagerly, she took him in her coil. Melanie, weak from the reach of Jon's finger, relinquished his cock. The longer Rebecca handled it, the hornier she got. He was a whole lot of man. The vastness of his shaft could have easily split her in half. She choked with desire, prepared to do him right.
Jon didn't comment. Barely controlling his heavy breathing, he gasped as her fingers curled about his dick.
Melanie exhaled sharply as he twisted his finger in her cunt. She was totally saturated.
Rebecca's tongue extended, then gave him a sapping lick. She adored his clean, manly taste. "There's plenty to eat down here."
Jon trembled as she moistened his cock with her limber tip. Hot saliva slashed him from bulb to stem. He buckled in his seat, enjoying the snake-like flicker. He threw his head back and gasped.
Ted set his sights on Melanie's quivering buttocks. With Jon's finger in her snatch, Ted reasoned that her ass-hole would do nicely. He anticipated its warm crush. Slick from Rebecca's juice, he was prepared to take that sweet ass.
Ted spread Melanie's cheeks. They opened, revealing her pink anus. He guided his plump head to it. A pearl of cum oozed from the tip. He stroked his cock, then stuck the helmet into that puckering hole.
Melanie whimpered from his introduction. He detected no complaint. More of him vanished into that receptive orifice. Jon did not take out his finger. Ted felt him from the other side as he fully entered her rectum.
"Yeah," he gasped, huffing and puffing. "I put the whole thing in, and it feels great."
Melanie's face dropped to Jon's hairy stomach. She clawed at his rough thighs while Ted crammed that last bit into her. Her pupils curved into her whites while she adjusted to his anal invasion.
Jon savored her expression. She took all Ted had to give and appeared to love it. When Rebecca's mouth came down, his vision went out of focus. His dick rolled over her wet tongue and eased into her throat.
Melanie sobbed. Jon slid in and out of her pussy while Ted pumped her butt. She welcomed the star's exploring digit. The back and forth motion aroused her. The area Ted covered from behind felt nice, too. His cock created satisfying suction.
"Fuck my ass," she murmured, then gazed at Jon's handsome face. "He's going so deep."
Jon nodded. "Ted-likes to butt fuck."
"I sure do," he groaned, lost in Melanie's dark squish.
Rebecca enjoyed having Jon's big dick pointing in her face. She lazily lapped him. Her tip curved around that mushroomed head, slashing beneath the overhanging rim, then vibrating the vein of his underside. She could not quell the temptation to take that sizable cockhead into her mouth. She pursed her lips, then surrounded it. He vanished in her anxious pucker. Hot, bubbly saliva engulfed him.
"Jesus," he groaned, visibly overcome by her oral heat.
His dick fit smoothly in Rebecca's mouth. She applied a slick, bubbly coat. She drew him deeply into her cavity, descending his ample length. Blowing him thoroughly excited her. Spittle oozed down his shaft, trickling to his balls. She gobbled up that palpitating mass, awakening every vein she dabbed. Rubbing him furiously in her oral clasp clearly battered his senses. He pulsed inside her mouth, drenched with tingly spit. She could feel his agony as she sucked him. It throbbed between her lips until she thought he'd explode. He shook violently, yet did not spew.
"Mmmmm," she hummed against that tasty mouthful of Jon. Her lips dove over that solid manly swell. She coasted to his pubic thatch. "Mmmmm."
Through half-opened eyes, Jon watched his cock disappear. Rebecca made short work of its inflated dimensions. Seeing those lips slide over him, putting it away, made him groan. "Oh, God. Jesus." He shut his eyes and his head went back. Her tongue raced over his cock, giving him the chills.
Melanie, recovering from her initial daze, leaned toward him and stuck her tongue in Jon's mouth. She wanted to simultaneously feed upon his rush. He exhaled slowly while she roamed. Her thumbs revolved around his nipples, heightening his bliss.
Ted jammed her ass-hole. Her rectal embrace supplied him enormous pleasure. He was glad not to have drawn her protest. Stopping would have been difficult.
Violent pulsations originated at the base of Jon's cock and traveled to its saliva-rich knob. Rebecca pulled on him with her velvety lips, wiping the excess from his skin. She could feel how much he enjoyed her sucks. She drew even harder on his cock, accelerating its beat.
After several feverish moments, her lips released him. Webs of saliva continued to attach them. They broke as she wiggled back.
Rebecca elevated her tits. Jon stared at the rock-hard nipples. Bunching them together, she pointed those pink nubs at him.
"Want to fuck them?" she whispered.
A grin spread across his face. "Sure."
She secured him in her billowy softness. His dick looked cozy. He pulsed in her groove. Playfully, she jerked. His wet cock moved against her flesh. Her saliva served as the perfect lubrication. She tugged the skin of his cock. "Your dick feels so hot," she panted. "It's burning inside my cleavage."
Jon studied those hard nipples circling before him. She wrapped him tighter. Her flesh clung to him. Her tits held him fast. He savored their pull.
Melanie angled herself over Jon's face, dragging Ted with her. He stayed in her ass. Her huge breasts dangled over Jon's virile profile. "I want you to suck mine."
"Bring them down."
She lowered a tit into his mouth. Jon licked that savory tip. He circled it while increasing his suction. Eventually, he drew upon it with everything he had.
Melanie's lips curved. Ted's anal spearing and Jon's sucking evenly contributed toward her smile.
Rebecca observed his cock sliding through her cleft. He became more purplish as she stroked him. The head turned an angry color.
Jon's muscled thighs were thrown apart. He dug his heels into the mattress while Rebecca rhythmically pulled on him. His dick yawned through her massaging boobs. Melanie's nipples came to him, one at a time. He gladly tasted them.
"Are we pleasing you?" Rebecca asked. "Are we doing the things that you like? Let us please you. We're your greatest fans."
Rebecca aligned her mouth with the purplish head of his cock. Jon's inflamed member emerged from her satin cranny, ready for gobbling. Her lips swooped over that tasty bulb and sucked, while the rest of him received a massage.
Ted's breathing became harsher. He was close to cumming. Melanie's ass-hole became brutal. He groaned from its overwhelming clasp. Prolonging his splendor seemed inconceivable.
"I'm going to shoot," he warned.
"Pull out and cream over her ass-hole," Rebecca instructed.
"Yeah," Melanie said, feeling it happen. Ted was pulsating in her narrow channel. She could feel his ecstasy climb. "Splash onto my butt cheeks."
Ted abruptly withdrew, then seized his cock. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, stroking it. He directed his enlarged bulb at Melanie's shapely buns. He held them apart with his other hand. "Arghh. Arghh."
Rebecca watched his jism squirt. He jetted over her exposed anus. Cum spewed over that opening until it was completely inundated. Ted's jaw dropped while he spent himself. His entire body shook from that violent release.
After the sum of his excitement gushed out of him, he fell on his side, breathing hard.
Rebecca, ending her gape, resumed tonguing Jon. He stared off into space while she escalated both suction and kneading. She stuffed her face with as much cock as possible, then took him through those velvet cushions.
"Do you like my tits?" Rebecca asked. "Do they feel good around your cock?"
Jon grew sweaty. "I think I'm going to cum."
"Do it on her tits," Melanie petitioned. "Jizz on them. I want to see you splatter them."
Jon stuffed himself back into Rebecca's mouth. Her scalding drool caused his temperature to spike.
"Now," Melanie commanded. "Now."
"Ughhh!" Jon yelled, his eyes rolling up into their sockets. His chin went high. "Ughhh. Ughhh. Ughhh."
"like, wow," Rebecca exclaimed, "a shooting star! This is to die for." Hot jism splashed onto Rebecca's tits. She shivered, letting it accumulate. Some landed on her nipples, while the rest sprinkled her face.
Melanie kissed his neck. "That was exciting. It made me wet."
Rebecca ran her fingertips through his spent juices. His cum felt good. She moaned, wiping it all over herself. She swirled it about her nipples, then flicked them with her cummy fingers.
Jon shuddered as Rebecca played with his white stuff. He didn't regain his breath for several moments. He alternated between looking at her and dropping his head onto the pillow.
Melanie enclosed his somewhat-deflated cock. "You've got to stay hard for us, baby. We need to keep this hard. You've got to fuck us."
"Wake up, Ted," Jon kidded, "I need some backup. These girls are going to wear me out."
Ted arose from his stupor. "Sure, boss." He crawled over to Rebecca and divided her legs. Her juicy snatch was ready for some tongue. Gladly, he gave it.
"Oh, yeah," she purred as it wiggled into her. "Lick me. Lick me good."
The taste of pussy resuscitated him. Ted gulped her trickling nectar. Rebecca shivered against his trained tip. He enjoyed her vibrations.
Melanie massaged Jon. He thickened in her grasp. Her lips curved in satisfaction. Her fist filled with the necessary hardness.
Rebecca, distracted by Ted's slurps, curled up beside Jon and bestowed him with kisses. She was content receiving head.
Stroking him, Melanie restored Jon to a rigid state. He ballooned in her grip. She got on his lap, prepared to ride him. She sat on his coarse thighs. His big dick, standing upright, looked yummy. She opened her lips with a finger, then pinned them back. The slick noises of her arrangement got his attention. His eyes were riveted to that moist entrance. She dipped into her pussy, priming it for that towering swell.
"Ohhhh," Melanie moaned, finger-fucking herself. She bit her bottom lip, then noisily dragged air through clenched teeth. "I can't wait to have you."
Jon, staring at that moist snatch, longed to make the connection. "Slide that pussy over me."
She lifted herself over his cock. Jon leaned back, bracing himself. Her cunt expanded. The lips separated around his domed head when she pushed down.
"Uhhhhhh." Still sensitive from cumming, Jon groaned. Wet snatch enveloped him. He clutched her ass, trying to regulate the amount she smothered him with.
Melanie swiveled her hips, hungry for more of him. His cock went where his finger couldn't. That heavy shaft filled her, jamming her middle. She swiveled her hips, working him into her. There was much to take. The star she most fantasized about was hung like a stallion.
Jon slid high into her cunt. Melanie, arching her spine, cried out. Her nails dug into his shoulder. When her head snapped back into place, he noticed the dull look in those eyes. She appeared completely sated.
"Oh shit," she moaned, feeling that dick spread her wide. "It's so fucking big."
"Ride him, baby," Rebecca gasped, woozy from Ted's furious tongue activity. "Fuck his brains out."
Melanie totally impaled herself. Jon, lodged far in her cunt, offered a sweet rush. He pushed everything he had into her. His balls pressed into her butt cheeks. His overpowering existence elicited her sob. "Oh, yeah. He's in my pussy-all of him."
She lifted and dropped herself on him. Her pussy caught him, then inundated him with heat and moisture. The friction was awesome. He loved the way her pussy grabbed him. Her juices trickled down his shaft, dampening his balls. He was deeply entrenched in the girl.
"Oh, God," Melanie whimpered, sending her pussy down. "Fuck me. Fuck me good. Oh, yes. I love it. More."
She rocked on his lap, provoking him. He delved into her warm, seething hole. He met her voracious descent, stuffing her with solid bone.
Jon felt Rebecca's tongue return. She lapped his balls and the wedge of cock that emerged from Melanie. The blonde cried out as her girlfriend licked her, too. He couldn't believe the two of them. They were insatiable.
Their flesh slapped in sweaty profusion. Jon's breath quickened as he focused all his energies on the delicious sensation in his groin. He elevated his cock, stabbing into Melanie.
Rebecca cleaned them with her vigorous tongue. Slurping sounds reverberated between their legs.
Ted continued to rinse Rebecca's pussy with saliva. He clamped that tasty mound and sucked. Her sugary juices filled his mouth. He concentrated on her clit, trying to make her cum.
Jon tensed from Melanie's cuntal squeeze. He aligned her tits, then lowered his mouth over the erect nipples. He licked them slowly, dispatching shock waves of pleasure through her entire being. Melanie shook until he dragged her to his root.
She clenched her teeth while absorbing his impact. "Give it to me as hard as you can. I like it like that."
She fucked him fast and furiously, caught up in madness. Rebecca's tongue motivated her, too. She was quite conscious of her silken tip. She jerked her hips to elevate their gratification.
Jon drove himself to the hilt, touching the deepest part of Melanie. She whimpered, feeling stretched to the limit. Her pussy seemed willing to take more. He left imprints in her ass while pulling her onto his monster.
"Do it," Melanie urged. His dick felt hard, burrowing into her snatch. "Cum, baby. Cum in my pussy. Oh, yeah. Cum!"
Jon exploded. He lurched powerfully in her soaked confines, injecting her with his hot seed. He rammed himself into her quivering snatch and let his excitement pour. An animal growl tore from his throat.
His fierce reaction set Melanie off. She spasmed, welcoming the contractions. She shut her eyes from the brutality of orgasm. As she shuddered and convulsed, she felt Jon's squirts collect in her pussy until a gooey mass was accumulated.
Rebecca commenced eliminating the spillage. Jon's jism dripped on her extended tip. Ted's quickening tongue doubled her vision. Soon, she was at the verge of a convulsion. He didn't relax. Her thighs shook around his face until the thrill he provided couldn't be ignored.
Melanie and Rebecca cuddled up to Jon afterward. "Did we please you?"
A grin spread across his face. "Enormously."
"Do you think you could probably find a part for us in your series?" Melanie ventured.
Jon's afterglow faded. "Huh?"
"We would be forever grateful," Rebecca gushed. "We've been trying to audition for it, but could not get through to Central Casting."
Jon groaned. He wasn't thrilled with handing out minor roles to hungry starlets. "I'll see what I can do."
"That would be wonderful," Melanie went on, caressing him. "We'd make a valuable addition, and I'm sure the fans would-" Her eyes bulged from their sockets. She pointed at the window and let out a scream.
Rebecca, following her gaze, joined in the hysterics.
Jon saw the flickering light and immediately knew they were being taped. "Shit. Come on, Ted, let's chase them out of here."
Ted hopped to his feet. Pesky tabloid reporters! he thought. That was all the Donahues needed.
Jon and Ted charged at the window, prepared to muscle away the camera and dispose of the incriminating footage. Someone else got there first. A purse flew out, viciously striking them.
"You are trespassing, Senors!" Consuela hissed, pummeling them with her bag. "We will call the police."
The video camera fell to the ground. Before it could be picked up, Consuela's foot came down on it. An ugly crunch followed.
"Hey, that's expensive equipment!" the guy yelled.
"You are lucky, Senor, that it was the camera and not your cajhunes," Consuela sneered. He made a loud gulp.
"Well, well," cooed Bari Carter, walking from the darkness. Her eyes flitted from Ted to Jon, taking in their scant cover. Jon tried shielding his equipment, but Bari saw it nonetheless. "This is very interesting."
"How did you get through my electronic gate?" Jon demanded.
She smiled mischievously. "Somebody must have forgotten to close it."
"That's bullshit. That's unauthorized entrance. You snuck onto my property, and that's against the law."
She winked at him. "Tell it to my viewers."
Sharleen, fuming in a silk robe, scurried down the path. Buffy, similarly clad, hustled beside her. "You have no right. I'll have you arrested!"
"Did you enjoy your little rendezvous with Peter Hayes?" Bari clucked. "Not as much as I'll have airing the footage we shot. This will be an exclusive for my show-perfect for the February sweeps!"
"I'll sue!" Sharleen advised. "Your ass will be mine!"
Bari was oblivious to her warning. "Your threats are meaningless, darling. After I'm through painting you as a slut, nobody will believe you."
"How does the Senora plan to broadcast the film when I have destroyed it?" Consuela asked.
Bari produced additional cassettes from her purse. "These show Sharleen Donahue's memorable performance."
"Give them to me!" Consuela demanded.
"I will not," she said, returning them to her bag. "They're worth a king's ransom."
Consuela made a swipe at her purse. "Punta! I will take those!"
Bari took offense to her harsh reference. "I beg your pardon. I happen to be unworthy of such a name. You must be confusing me with your employer. She more than qualifies for that label."
"Give me that filth!" Consuela wrestled her for the purse. Bari never stood a chance. The tapes were removed, then thrown on the grass. Consuela stamped on them, hurling Mexican invectives.
"You have no right!" Bari sobbed. "Stop her! She's destroying them!" Her men looked on, helpless.
"You are not welcome here!" Consuela said. "You were going to hurt the Senor and Senora. Leave, now, before I lose control!"
Bari, swallowing back her anguished cry. "Very well, Sharleen Donahue. You're neatly gotten your tit out of the wringer, but won't be so lucky next time." She signaled her crew to retreat.
"Nicely done, Consuela," Sharleen remarked after the gossip queen and her team had departed.
Buffy was about to second the motion, but felt the Mexican housekeeper's sarcasm bubble. It didn't matter that Jon, Ted and Sharleen were in varying stages of undress. Oh, well, she thought, things between them would never be perfect.
"You know," Jon snapped at Sharleen, "if you had just done her fucking show, none of this would have happened."
"Why should I?" Sharleen roared back. "And let her tear me apart?"
"You could have negotiated with her, and saved us a tremendous amount of aggravation."
"Did you have to do that?" she sneered. "What did she settle for? Sitting on your face? Tell me: did you eat her pussy?"
Buffy glanced at Consuela. Not only was the housekeeper unfazed, she seemed curious as to
Jon's response.
Jon chuckled. "Me, eat Bari Carter? You gotta be shittin' me."
Sharleen took inventory of their conversation and joined him in laughter. She immediately discarded her resentment. "I suppose that would be too high a price." From there, she giggled hysterically.
Buffy moved over to Ted. "You have to admit, when you work for them, expect the unexpected."
