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Climbing the Ladder

By: TV_News_Babe



I wrote a story recently about my summer vacation and you seemed to like it. That made me wonder if you'd also like to hear some of my experiences along the way toward becoming a TV news babe. So, without commercial interruption, here's how I climbed the TV news ladder.

Chapter One: The Big Break

I was twenty four and not far removed from college when I got a job as a reporter for a small market TV station. I had always been told that my above average looks and body could easily get me into the business, but that it would take exceptional looks or skill to advance. With exceptional looks out of the question without a face transplant, I strove for skill.

I always assumed they meant reporting skills. Little did I know.

My first big break came when the local newspaper ran a series of stories on a local county government official who had been forced to resign for unspecified, suspicious behavior. The newspaper never got the full background story confirmed by a reliable source and no TV reporter was able to get to him.

I knew that if I could be the first to get this guy to agree to an exclusive interview it would be a great addition to my resume.

Cliff Vogelsworth had always been under a microscope in our county for the simple reason that he moved in, waited a couple years, then ran for county-wide office and won on his first attempt. Of course, everyone suspected him of underhanded wheeling and dealing or voter manipulation of some type.

I always admired the middle-aged businessman for his no-nonsense approach to government and the people he dealt with. Sure, he rubbed some people the wrong way. And, yes, that probably led to the trouble he was in now. But he intrigued me.

His trophy wife, Emma, was accused of most anything you could accuse a beautiful woman of doing, but she never spoke in public and was rarely seen outside of Cliff's fundraising functions. So, her aloofness added fuel to the rumor fires.

I made it my sole objective to get the story from him. Being young and naïve, I came up with the brilliant plan of knocking on his door unannounced and asking to talk to him. But I would do it without a camera or notepad. At least, not on the first visit.

I'll never forget the feeling I had when he opened the door that Tuesday evening and I said, "Hello, Cliff? My name's Charlotte. Can we talk?"

He scanned me from head to toe. I had enough sense to wear anything except what a female TV reporter would normally wear. Instead, I had on a t-shirt and jeans. The t-shirt had a swooping neckline that showed plenty of cleavage and the jeans could have been painted on.

Cliff smiled and opened the door wider. "Come on in."

As the door closed, he said, "By the way, I know where you work. Why no camera?"

I shrugged. "I'm not working tonight. Just wanted to meet you and talk. Is that OK?"

I also wanted him to look me in the face, but if it took him that long to determine I didn't have a bra on, so be it.

The grin on his face was mesmerizing. I HAD to find out what was on his mind; what made him tick. I wondered if he knew I was as scared as a little kid in the principal's office.

"OK," he finally agreed. "Nothing's on record."

"You know that's bullshit," I said bluntly, causing his eyes to widen.

Cliff laughed. "Wow. You aren't messing around, are you?"

"Can we still talk?"

He tilted his head down the hallway of the large house. "This way."

We passed a lavish dining room and library before reaching the massive family room. I knew he had no kids and the house showed it. Everything was in place as if a cleaning staff had just left.

"Can I get you a drink?" he offered.

"Whatever you're having," I replied.

"Beer?"

"Fine."

On the mantel over the fireplace were several pictures of Emma. The pictures were obviously professionally done and she was obviously a natural to having her picture taken. She was gorgeous, without a doubt.

As he returned, Cliff said, "Emma's at a friend's house. She'll be back eventually."

"You keep her out of the limelight," I said, accepting the beer. "Is that on purpose."

"Her choice," he said, sitting in a chair opposite my couch. "She's a very...um...unique person."

He took a long drink and I looked at him inquisitively.

"In what way?"

He grinned. "I don't think you came here tonight to talk about Emma, did you Charlotte?"

"Unique people interest me. YOU interest me, Cliff."

"I'm married."

I nearly spit out my beer and giggled. "No, no. Not in THAT way."

He sulked mockingly. "What? Too old? Too ugly?"

"Neither. Your history interests me," I said. "You arrive, instantly become a major factor in local government, resign under pressure. What's not to be interested in?"

Cliff played with the ringlets of water slowly descending the outside of his bottle. I could see his mind working. Then he said, "Charlotte, you aren't going to learn the story from me tonight. If that was your whole purpose of coming, it will be a short visit."

I took a drink. "I know that. I can't even take notes, Cliff. I said I wanted to meet you and talk."

He nodded. "I'm sorry. It's been a rough few weeks. We can talk all you want, except about that."

"Who are you?" I asked.

More than once that evening I felt I had hit the right chord with Cliff. All I tried to do was talk to him the same way I thought he probably talked to his employees.

"A businessman, Charlotte. A businessman trying to be successful in the twenty first century," he said calmly. "And sometimes that means stepping on toes."

When he paused, I let him look at me. I showed no signs of responding.

He continued: "I should have waited another year or two to find out whose toes not to step on. That was my mistake."

"I thought the campaign would have taught you that," I said.

He shrugged. "I thought it did. Apparently not."

Just as I thought we were moving toward a fruitful discussion, I heard the unmistakable sound of the garage door opening.

"Ah, there's Emma," Cliff said eagerly. "I want you to meet her, Charlotte."

Cliff arose from his chair and made his way out of the family room. I heard the two voices in another room for an inordinate amount of time, but couldn't make out anything they said. Eventually, the couple came into the room side by side.

Dressed in a comfortable blouse and skirt and with no apparent makeup, Emma was still stunning. She neither smiled nor scowled, taking on the neutral expression I had seen in the pictures of her. She was as tall as Cliff, with blonde hair that may or may not have been natural, and a figure that God only bestowed on one woman in a thousand.

"Emma, this is Charlotte. She dropped in for a visit. I hope you don't mind," Cliff said as they came further into the room. "You may have seen her on the news. Don't hold that against her. She seems really nice."

Emma looked at him for assurance, and his grin seemed to convince her. I stood and accepted Emma's nod of welcome. To my surprise, she sat on the other end of the couch after surveying me much the same way Cliff had done at the door.

Cliff said, "She actually came to get the story nobody else has been able to get. But I warned her it wasn't going to happen."

For the first time, a slender uplifting of the ends of Emma's mouth showed an emotion. "You slam the door in the faces of the men, but you let a pretty young girl in for a beer."

Apparently the friendly jab didn't offend or come as a surprise to Cliff, who said, "I knew you'd approve."

Emma crossed her legs and turned just enough to face me a little more as we talked. She seemed to be relaxing a bit.

"We can continue the discussion later if you...," I began to say.

"No. Stay," Emma announced to my surprise. "You're on a mission. You should be allowed to succeed where all others have failed."

"Thank you," I said to Emma. "But my only mission was to meet your husband. The story is his to tell, not for me to steal."

Emma played with the opening at the top of her blouse, seemingly out of habit. "You ARE young, aren't you? I doubt if any of the top reporters at CNN got there by waiting for politicians to voluntarily tell their stories."

"And making enemies of them will speed up the process?" I asked.

Emma's grin broadened. "There are many players in Cliff's situation, Charlotte. You will have to visit many houses on many evenings to compile your story."

"I only need to visit the correct house one time if the person I'm talking to wants their story told accurately and without bias," I replied confidently.

"Charlotte, you're not in college any more. You're in TV news. You're in a business based on biases," Emma said. "If you, personally, don't have an agenda, your bosses do. What's even more disgusting is the fact we've been offered cash for the story—a story they would then distort to fit their own prejudices anyway."

"My bosses don't know I'm here, Emma," I said. "I came with no offers, no cameras, no notebooks. If Cliff or yourself has anything I should know, I'm all ears. Otherwise, it was a nice chat."

Cliff had leaned back, enjoying the exchange to no end. Now he felt obligated to act as referee, if nothing else.

"Charlotte, you are in our house because you are a female; the only female TV reporter on this story, to my knowledge," Cliff said. "Whether your liberated self is ready to accept it or not, your gender brings with it certain advantages. You may have expected to use those advantages to sway me, or you may not have. But I'm telling you now that you have an opportunity nobody else at any other station has, if you are willing to take it."

"An opportunity?" I inquired.

"Emma and I know each other pretty well. She has indicated to me in her own way that she likes you and I think we can work out an exchange of information with you under the right conditions," Cliff explained. "Emma, do you agree?"

"I do," the wife indicated. "I think we owe her a chance after the risk she took tonight."

I believed something good was about to happen but I wasn't sure what it was and I didn't think it would take long to find out.

Emma looked at me and signaled with her finger for me to get closer. "Slide over here, Charlotte."

I shifted to the left along the couch and Emma moved to her right until we nearly touched. Cliff looked on with a sly smile.

"I have a weakness for really cute girls, Charlotte," Emma said in a quiet voice. "You have a need to further your career. Perhaps both of us can get what we want."

Before the reality had totally sunk in, Emma was leaning over and placing her outstretched hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair gently. I let her kiss my cheek, trying not to tilt my head away too noticeably. After the second light kiss, she turned my head with her hand and our lips met. Emma wasn't forceful. It was no more than a man and wife might do upon separating at the door for the day.

But the next kiss had meaning. Emma's lips parted; her tongue followed the outline of my own mouth; I instinctively followed suit. She pulled me closer and we kissed as hard as I had ever kissed any man in my life.

The thought of stopping it passed through my mind one time, for an instant, and never reappeared. I knew this was important and I never expected Cliff and Emma to not keep their end of the bargain. Emma edged closer during the kiss and our bodies met.

It was Emma who backed away for a moment and studied me with her beautiful blue eyes. They sank lower and her face dipped to my neck where she covered it with light kisses. For the first time, her hand fell onto my shirt and found the bottom of my right breast. Her mouth followed the dip of the shirt's neckline until she reached the top of the breast. She licked me and cupped the tit with her hand.

My experience with other women was nil, but the reaction she was causing in me with her mouth and hand was undeniable. Add the fact her husband was watching every move we made and it should have made me want to escape.

Instead, I felt Emma's hand slide up the inside of my shirt and I sat in frozen anticipation of what she had in mind. The hand quickly covered one breast while Emma kissed the other one through my shirt. Then she was unhurriedly lifting the shirt while returning to my lips for another long kiss.

I was overwhelmed with the sensation of Emma's tongue back in my mouth and my breasts being exposed to Cliff. Emma was more frantic now in the movement of her hands over my tits. She kneaded them roughly and pulled on the nipples. I wanted to moan but I had no breath.

When Emma ended the kiss and lowered her head to my chest, I dreaded the certainty of what she would do. I leaned back on the couch. I felt her lips on my bare breasts and my nipples. I closed my eyes, knowing that her mouth was about to close over a large portion of one of my breasts.

My body twitched the first time she closed her lips and ran her tongue over my stiffening nipple. Emma sucked on it and I couldn't suppress my moan any longer.

"That's it, honey. Just relax," Emma whispered.

She was rolling more of her body onto mine. Emma wasn't on top of me, but inch by inch she was covering me with herself while she sucked on my tits and held up my shirt. Then, she was lifting the t-shirt over my head and I was powerless in preventing it as Emma had succeeded in making me want more.

Emma returned to my bare chest and drove me wild with skillful treatment of my breasts. I could feel my pussy getting wetter and wetter and it embarrassed me. And that was before she began kissing her way down my body to the top of my jeans.

I watched her unbutton them and pull down the zipper. I had on small white panties, not expecting them to be seen by anybody else that night, and they came into view. Emma slid off the couch between my legs and yanked on the jeans. I lifted my ass and let her pull the jeans and my shoes off. Emma tossed the pants aside and moved her mouth back up above my panties, continuing to kiss me as she slowly pulled them down until reaching the top of my pussy.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Cliff moving. I glanced over and saw that he had pulled out his cock and it was rock hard, long, and thick. His hand wrapped around it as his wife stripped me of my panties.

My attention quickly returned to Emma when she smiled and said, "Spread your legs for me, Charlotte."

I obeyed and she licked her way up the insides of my thighs until reaching my warm, wet pussy. I involuntarily arched my back, fearful, yet positive, that she was about to place her mouth there. Another woman was going to...

"Oh my God!" I cried out when Emma's tongue plunged inside me.

I gasped as she fucked me with her tongue, exploring every inch of my pussy that she could reach. Emma put her hands under my ass and raised me up for a better angle and I whimpered with delight even louder.

If she had licked my clit one time I would have cum. Either by luck or from experience—and I think it was from extensive experience—Emma realized this and calmly stood in front of the couch.

She reached out her hands toward me. "Get up, Charlotte. I want you to undress me. Please."

I let her pull me up and I began undressing another woman for the first time in my life. Cliff watched and masturbated casually as I fretfully fumbled with Emma's blouse, skirt, bra and panties. To say she had a marvelous body would be a great understatement.

She kissed me passionately when I was done and my hands unconsciously meandered all over her. She had to be forty years old and I couldn't find an inch of fat on her.

"I want you, Charlotte," she whispered in my ear. "Don't be afraid if you've never done this. It will be wonderful."

I nodded.

"Lay on the couch," she told me. "On your back."

When I was reclined, looking up at her, she got on top in a sixty-nine position. We began licking each other's clit in unison. I could taste her sweet juices and held her by the ass, pulling her closer. She had her hands under my legs, separating them for better access.

This lasted no more than five minutes. I needed to cum from the beginning, but was concentrating on Emma's clit. Eventually, her expert handling of my pussy with her tongue and lips took me over the edge.

"Emma! I'm...I'm..."

I couldn't finish. I shrieked when my orgasm began, and then immediately tried to continue sucking on her clit. I was thrusting my hips up to meet her face and Emma obliged by pushing down harder. My body shuddered through multiple climaxes.

Then Emma came in loud groans of ecstasy. I clung to her ass as my tongue slashed across her swollen clit. She cried out my name over and over as each new orgasm began and I hoped, prayed, that it was as good for her as it was for me.

We collapsed in the end with moisture on our chins and the taste of each other lingering on our tongues and lips.

Emma rolled off the couch and said to me, "I have one more request."

We both looked at Cliff and his massive erection. Emma simply motioned toward it and I knew exactly what I needed to do. But before I reached Cliff's chair, he said to me, "Suck me, Charlotte. I want to feel your mouth around it."

I was almost impatient in my moving between his legs and kneeling. I let my fingers slide up his cock one time before doing the same with my tongue. He leaned back and sighed. I held the cock upright, placed it between my lips, and took him in my mouth until it hit the back of my throat.

I gave Cliff the best blowjob I possibly could. With one hand stroking the base of his cock, I frantically sucked on the rest with piston-like rapidity. Letting go of him occasionally, I deep throated him and licked under the head of the throbbing shaft until precum finally leaked out.

His hands held my head in place. His groans signaled the imminent orgasm. And Cliff came with a thunderous howl, accompanied by a long, hard shot of cum into the back of my mouth. I swallowed and took another. A half dozen times I tried to take it all, allowing only a trickle to escape onto my chin.

When he was done, I licked him again, sucked some more, and attained a few more drops. Only then did he insist I stop.

Details of what he and Emma told me that night aren't necessary, but the gist was he had uncovered a scheme by land developers to defraud the county. My subsequent public record requests and interviews with the parties involved led to indictments of the guilty and the clearing of Cliff's name.

My 'relationship' with Cliff and Emma lasted a couple years longer.

Chapter Two: They're Called Videographers

My series involving the land developers eventually caught the eye of the manager of a larger market station in a neighboring state and I swiftly accepted their job offer as a reporter.

I was twenty six, almost twenty seven, and gaining confidence with each new assignment. I also found that stations with bigger budgets could afford better equipment, and better personnel.

The technical term for the guys, typically, that lug around those heavy cameras all day and make the reporters look good is videographer. Most videographers are nice enough and fun to be around, but like in any work environment you get the occasional asshole.

At my new station there was a camera guy named Phil that I particularly enjoyed. Phil said he was thirty, but he looked much younger than that. He had a very brief semi-pro baseball career and kept his athletic physique after getting a 'real job' at our station. He had the greatest, thickest hair of any man I'd ever seen. It wasn't l980's hair band long, but wonderfully flowing. And...he was single.

Phil and I started socializing not long after I started working there and I learned bits and pieces of his past and present. One day at lunch, while we were on an assignment, we got into the topic of hobbies.


Climbing the Ladder



"What I really want to do is be a photographer," he said at one point.

"Really?" I said with interest. "Not movies, with your video experience."

"Nah. Still photography. And not just weddings and families with their dogs," he said. "I want personalized stuff. People being themselves in settings outside the studio. That's why selfies are so common nowadays. But they're so contrived, most of them. I can do better by taking the camera out of their hands."

I smiled. "You wouldn't insist on the teenage girls being topless and making duck lip faces?"

"Duck lips? No. Topless. Probably."

"You realize, don't you, that Abby would pose stark naked for you right now," I told him, referring to our ever-flirtatious evening anchor babe.

Phil shrugged. "Yeah, I'm sure that's how she posed during her interview. Slut. I would be more into the classy stuff. Think...Vogue."

I nodded. "That would be cool. Have you had volunteers for you to practice on?"

"You're the only one who knows," he said bashfully.

"I think you should pursue it, Phil," I said enthusiastically. "I volunteer."

He looked across at me with uncertainty. "Would you?"

"Yep. Think about it and let me know when and where and I'll be there. You'll need some samples for a portfolio, won't you?"

It took a week because of our hectic schedules, but Phil talked to me again and we arranged to meet at his apartment after work one day for the first session. We agreed we would try some outdoor shots and some indoor shots and I proposed bringing a few different outfits, both formal and informal, to vary the theme.

It was fun to see Phil's excitement build the more we talked about it and the closer the day came. I had no doubt he had the desire to make the business work, but I needed to see some samples of his work before making a final judgment. Being the model would make it a little weird, but I hoped to be objective.

I had no clue what we would be doing at that first shoot, if you wanted to call it that. I'd never modeled before. Never even considered it. I was more of the actress type, wanting to be on the stage...in front of a crowd, or, as it turned out, in front of a TV camera. I wasn't sure I would know what to do without a microphone and having to stand still.

If Phil wanted to do this professionally, he'd have to prove to me that he could provide all the answers to my questions and make me feel comfortable, because I figured other people would have the same concerns as me. Maybe not. But I was anxious to see how it turned out.

I met Phil at his apartment on the big day and he suggested we take advantage of the cloudless sky, and oncoming dusk, by starting outdoors. I was in a more casual outfit including a skirt, big black belt, and a short sleeve top with a couple buttons at top. He was fine with that to begin with and I left the other clothes hanging in a closet. Then we drove a few miles to the edge of a wooded park.

It was actually a great setting with opportunities for photos in the open air and in the woods. The sun was low in the sky and the promise of a spectacular sunset made Phil happy. It would test his skills, for sure.

"I want you to have fun with this," Phil said to me as we walked to the first location he had in mind. "I'm open to whatever suggestions you might have."

"Well, you're the pro," I said. "It's not like I can rely on all my experience at this."

"Maybe between the two of us we can figure something out," he replied.

I looked at it as a new adventure and it was unquestionably my intention to have fun. It helped knowing Phil wouldn't get mad if I messed up.

We came to a point where the grassy field we walked across met the edge of a thick wooded area and Phil said he wanted to start there. The sun was setting on the same side as the field, so we had good light unobstructed by the trees.

He had me stand next to a tall tree, the trunk of which was approximately the same width as myself. Quickly, I learned the natural, casual poses Phil preferred. I leaned against the tree, sometimes using my shoulder and crossing my legs at the ankles, sometimes using my elbow with my head in the palm of my hand. I hugged the tree. I leaned against it with my back to the trunk.

The entire time, Phil walked slowly around to catch every possible angle of me and diverse views of the sunset. He encouraged me and I gained confidence, feeling as though I was less mechanical with each passing minute.

Still, I was glad there wasn't another soul in sight. I wasn't ready for public scrutiny just yet.

"Let's go back into the trees just a little bit," Phil said. "The lighting should be very interesting back there."

We moved maybe twenty yards into the woods and it was like we had entered another world. I felt so isolated; so secluded. It might have been the best thing that happened up to then because I felt less restricted in what I could do. There was a very large tree trunk on the ground from a tree long since fallen. I sat on it and Phil loved the new poses it offered.

After checking for spiders and bugs, which I abhor, I laid on the log. The feeling was incredible—having Phil take shot after shot looking down on me, or getting on his knees so he was more at my level. I bent one knee and lifted the leg, nearly exposing it up to my panties before timidly tugging down on my skirt.

"Oh, you're no fun, Charlotte. You're supposed to be a model," Phil joked.

In response, I unbuttoned my shirt until I knew my bra and plenty of cleavage was visible.

"There! Pervert," I said.

He just kept shooting and I rolled onto my side. I eventually rolled off the log and wiped what dirt I could from my clothes. Phil assisted until I slapped his hand for helping too much with the back of my skirt.

I saw a very low branch behind us and surprised Phil to no end by jumping onto it and sitting. By now the light was almost gone and he was using the flash exclusively. They were playful shots as I swung my legs, sometimes in an attempt to kick him. I wondered just how much he could see. One last taunt was to lean forward when I jumped off, knowing my breasts were in full view.

To this day, I'll believe it was purely by accident, but I happened to look at Phil's crotch and saw a definite bulge in his pants. My pulse rate doubled. I realized I was turning him on and that was not my intention. But now I had a brand new sense of what the evening could become. And I absolutely loved the idea.

I moved over to another tree, leaned against it and purposely raised my skirt on one side in an obviously provocative and mischievous pose with an expression to match.

Phil took two shots, then lowered the camera and said, "I see you're getting into it now."

I moved over to him, giggling. "Oh, I got into it very early on. Maybe we need to go back to the apartment where the light is better. I also have some other outfits to try, remember."

We were a foot apart. I gently put my hand on his crotch.

"Much more of this and it will get embarrassing," I said softly.

He was getting hard, without question. I leaned forward and kissed him. He returned the kiss. I squeezed his cock and pulled away with a smile.

"Let's go," I said, starting back towards the car.

The tension was palpable on the way to Phil's apartment. I enjoyed the posing far more than I expected to, but I'm not sure I would have felt the same way with any other photographer. I would have given anything to read Phil's mind in that car.

I didn't have to wonder what was on his mind for long. As soon as the door to his apartment was closed, he had me pinned to it with his body, smothering me with passionate kisses which I gladly gave back. Our hands roamed freely, with Phil's ending up on my ass, pulling up on the bottom of my skirt.

I was the first to speak, although it was more like a gasp. "I thought we were going to take more pictures?"

"Oh, yeah," Phil said mischievously. "Why don't we do that."

"I'm going to change, OK?" I asked him, escaping his capture and getting into the closet where my clothes were.

"Good. I need time to set up lights. Don't rush," he said over his shoulder while moving into another room.

I had made up my mind in the car what I was going to wear to start. It was risky, I knew, but I thought Phil would be, at the very least, professional about it.

I used his extra bedroom to change. I stripped down to just my frilly black panties and put on a black blazer, letting it hang unbuttoned over my bare chest. I stood in front of the mirror and smiled from ear to ear at the erotic reflection of myself.

I'll never forget the look on his face as I walked into the living room where Phil was finishing adjusting the lights and placing the tripod. I had to forgive his blatant staring. In fact, I would have been very disappointed if he hadn't.

"You wanted Vogue? I'll give you Vogue," I said with conviction.

"You certainly...did," he said as I came closer. "Cover worthy, I would say."

I could feel my nipples growing harder and rubbing against the inside of my blazer. Part of me wanted to pull the jacket together and button it from top to bottom. Another part of me wanted to fling it completely open. I doubt if Phil had any idea how nervous I was.

"It's your job to hide all my imperfections, you know," I said.

He chuckled. "Yeah, if I find one, I'll hide it."

"Looks like you're thinking about using the couch first?" I said, looking at the lighting setup.

"Yep. Is that OK?"

"Fine with me. Tell me what to do," I told him.

He glanced at me one more time, and seemed to consider something first. Then he said, "Sit on the couch. In the middle with your legs crossed and the jacket pulled together near your lap."

I had a good idea what he wanted and, from his viewpoint behind the camera, it appeared I was naked. He took a couple straightforward shots to get started. Then he came over to me and reached for the jacket, but stopped just before getting to it.

"Do you mind, Charlotte, if I...I mean I might have to move...um...," he stammered.

I laughed. "Phil. Do what you need to do. Don't be such a wuss."

He delicately opened the blazer to show much more cleavage and returned to the camera. A few shots later he said, "Put your legs together in front of you. Knees touching. Hands in your lap."

That was that last innocent picture of the entire evening.

"Stand up," Phil instructed.

Once I was on my feet, he said, "Put your feet as far apart as your shoulders and put your hands on your waist, inside the jacket. Shoulders back."

I thought I was going to hyperventilate standing in front of this gorgeous guy in my panties and more than half of my tits showing. The bulge was back in his pants and I could feel my pussy begin to throb.

As he started to take new photos, I twisted to provide more angles. There was no doubt in my mind that at least one of my tits, and probably both, were exposed during my movement.

"Perfect," Phil said in encouragement without taking his eye from the viewfinder. "Keep going, Charlotte."

I held the front of the jacket and pulled it open, but kept it close enough to my chest that I could hold the two sides against my breasts, stopping just when I got to the nipples.

"That's it. Move," Phil told me.

I turned to the side and looked across my shoulder at him. That's when I finally did it. I pulled back the jacket on that side and showed him the breast. I held it for a moment and then pulled the jacket a few inches off my shoulder.

"Perfect," he said again. "Just like that."

I drew the jacket back on both sides and wrapped it around me halfway down my back. I turned to face the camera directly, both breasts now bared completely. I was trying to make my smile as natural as possible, but my nerves had to be showing.

I let my arms fall out of the sleeves and held the blazer at my side, the other hand on my hip. Then I flung it over my shoulder and turned as if walking away.

"Fantastic," Phil uttered. "You sure you've never done this before?"

I laughed and tossed the jacket onto a chair. Now it was only a matter of how far we'd go. I knew what I wanted to do and Phil's expanding erection made me think it was OK with him.

"Wait," he said suddenly. "Let me get the camera off the tripod."

This only took a second or two and then Phil was moving around me, getting close-ups. I started with hand bras, but eventually let my arms fall to the side again.

"I think you're enjoying this a bit too much, Phil," I said, letting my eyes finish the thought.

"Oh, shut up and pose. You chose the outfit," he countered.

He was behind me and I instinctively put my hands on my ass. Realizing that probably wasn't what he wanted, I slid my hands inside my panties and pulled them together so that more of my cheeks showed. That was when I moved us to the next level, which was going to happen eventually anyway.

I bent over just slightly and let one hand slide onto my pussy. When Phil walked around so that he was more in front of me again, I removed my hand in the back and slipped it inside my panties in the front. I was standing straight up again, even arching my back a little when my fingers found my aching clit.

I stared right into the lens and used both hands to push my panties down to reveal half of my pussy.

"Turn around," Phil said quickly.

The panties were tight against my ass. I inched them lower and lower. Finally, they were below my cheeks.

"Turn again."

No matter how much I thought about it as posing and Phil getting experience shooting, I was still stripping in front of a man and it was, well, nerve-wracking. I put both hands onto my pussy with my legs together. Then I got naked.

Damn, I was intimidated...and horny...and self-conscious.

"Use the furniture, Charlotte. Relax," Phil said. 

"It's hard to relax. And I think it's really unfair."

"What is?"

"I'm the only one undressed," I said.

"I'm not the model," Phil quickly replied.

"What if I said it would make me more relaxed?"

My look convinced him. He grinned in defeat, put down his camera, and pulled off his shirt. I stifled my giggle when he took off his pants, displaying the hard on under his briefs. When he was naked, I wasn't laughing any more. I was staring in awe at his fantastic, thick cock as it stuck out like a pole.

"Are you relaxed yet?" he asked derisively.

"Much better," I said. "Now what?"

"I said use the furniture, remember?"

"Oh, yeah."

I moved to the arm of the couch and sat on it, one leg hanging over the side while I leaned back. I was no longer in Vogue mode. This was pure Playboy. The camera clicked incessantly as I rotated, rolled and reclined on the couch. I ended up on my back with one leg on the back of the couch, one hand fondling a breast and the other massaging my clit. I rarely looked at the camera; my eyes were glued, instead, on the persistent erection between Phil's legs.

I was masturbating more than I was posing. When I finally realized it, I stood up and walked over to Phil.

"Put the camera down, Phil," I said, wrapping my fingers around his cock. "The session is over."

Actually, it was just beginning.

I got on my knees and slid my tongue up the entire length of Phil's shaft. I teased him for way too long, letting my tongue linger on the underside of the large, pink head. I watched his cock twitch in anticipation. Then I kissed the tip one time and put it between my lips.

I sucked Phil and played with my clit until we both moaned out loud. Precum seeped onto my tongue and my fingers were wet from my own juices. I took him deep into my mouth a couple more times and then stood up.

I put my body against his and said, "Fuck me, Phil. I need you so bad."

I thought we would do it standing up we kissed for so long and his cock was so hard against my belly. But he laid me down on the couch and crawled between my legs, spreading my knees with his hands and putting his cock in place. The lights shined down on us and I felt like I was in a movie.

All other thoughts fled my mind when I felt Phil's cock begin to enter my pussy. Oh my God it was wonderful when he lowered himself onto me and my pussy was spread wide and then filled with his cock.

"Ahhhhhh, fuck yes," I said almost to myself.

I wrapped my legs around his waist. He lifted me by the ass and put a tit into his mouth. I cried out when he lightly bit the nipple. Phil was thrusting his cock into me harder and faster, telling me, "You're so wet, Charlotte. So fucking tight and wet."

We stayed like that for several minutes, just enjoying the feeling of each other. Then he asked me to get on my knees facing the back of the couch and he entered me from behind. I clung to the cushions and rubbed my clit, begging him for more. He clutched at my tits and squeezed them, causing even more jolts of pleasure in my pussy.

"Oh God, Phil. I'm almost...oh fuck, yes...I'm almost there," I cried out.

"That's it. Cum for me, Charlotte. Cum for me!"

I put my head on the cushion and screamed, "Now! Now!"

My orgasm started and I just hung on the best I could. Phil heard my muffled groans and there was no doubt he could feel my body shaking from head to toe with the long, long climax. He held me by the waist, continuing to fuck me until he, too, announced his orgasm.

His cock pounded into me with less frequent, but harder, thrusts as Phil poured his cum into my pussy. Each of his grunts brought a new shot of cum that combined with my own juices and ran out onto my thigh. The sound of our bodies colliding echoed in the living room and, in the end, our panting was all that was left.

We collapsed together on the couch.

Later, I would be on top. Then we stood and I leaned on the arm of the couch. In all, it lasted most of the night and I couldn't begin to tell you how many times I came. Poor Phil—if that's an appropriate term under the circumstances—had to call it quits when he said it hurt to get hard again.

That was the start of me and Phil. To this day, he is my companion and absolute best friend in the world. And he's still fantastic in bed, but does that really matter?? (Hell yes it does)

Chapter Three: The News Director

The relationship between Phil and I survived an awful lot of tests over the years. I guess it shows the strength of the bond, because, God, did we get tested sometimes.

The first came within a year of the 'modeling' episode and involved the station's news director, a woman named Rachel. She was about forty, pretty but not gorgeous, with long, brown hair and a very average body. Phil and I liked her for her vivacious personality.

Neither Phil nor I knew her husband, John, very well. I knew him to be a fairly good looking guy—mainly from the one photo of him on Rachel's desk—but he didn't come to the station much.

Talking more and more to Phil made it clear to me that he kind of had a crush on Rachel. Phil was in his early thirties by then and I was in my late twenties. I kidded him endlessly about his infatuation with her, and it was all in fun as long as it didn't come between us.

One night it finally came down to a conversation about whether or not he'd have sex with her and, of course, he said he would if given the chance. That led to the hypothetical agreement that I could have John in return. Luckily, the chat resulted in some really fun sex as we imagined what it would all be like.

I was one of Rachel's 'projects', I always thought: the young reporter destined for the anchor chair. I was always good at kissing up to my bosses and got along well with Rachel, despite Phil's obsession with her. Still, it came as somewhat of a surprise when Phil and I got invited to Rachel and John's house for dinner one night.

Phil agreed to behave himself and he, rightfully, asked the same of me. Neither of us could claim total innocence in some of the things that had happened in our lives and I couldn't deny reasons for him to be suspicious of me after our relatively short time together. As is normally the case in most relationships, neither of us knew the other as well as we thought.




Climbing the Ladder



So there was an interesting dynamic at play as we entered Rachel and John's place that evening. It was a nice house in the suburbs; not a mansion, but comfortable and an indication of some success by both occupants. John was in marketing for some type of computer software firm that I'd never heard of. I truly knew almost nothing about him before that night.

It was warm enough for drinks and dinner to be out on their deck and, as I predicted to Phil, Rachel took command of the conversation. I found John to be intelligent, introverted, and very discerning as to when he chose to take part in the discussion. However, he did seem to have a dry sense of humor that I liked.

Also, he was actually a little more good looking than his picture in Rachel's office indicated. His hair was conservatively cut and he was what my mother used to call ruggedly handsome. Overall, there was a quiet anonymity about him that, admittedly, I found rather fascinating.

Rachel, to my surprise, was more of a flirt than I anticipated and I don't think the alcohol had all that much to do with it. She latched onto Phil's fixation with her and played up to it without ever crossing the line of indecency. John and I simply watched it unfold, waiting for any sign that intervention was necessary. It never happened.

We parted with a promise to do it again sometime. In the car on the way home, I couldn't resist taunting Phil.

"Are you ready to leave me for her?" I asked.

He chuckled. "That'll never happen, Charlotte."

"But if she offered to pose for you, you'd accept?"

His smile gave him away. "If she paid me like everybody else."

I leaned over and put a hand on his leg. "Like I paid you?"

I reached for his crotch and rubbed it. Phil spread his legs as much as he could and still drive. I pulled down his zipper and reached inside his pants, putting my palm on his boxers and pulling up on his cock. A moment later I had it out and I stretched out on the seat with my head in his lap.

Thirty seconds of licking and stroking had him hard. I sucked him with every indication that I wasn't going to stop until he came. I could feel his cock throbbing and the warmth of it filled my mouth. At the first twitch of his body and corresponding moan, I stopped.

"If you convince me at home you love me more than Rachel, I'll finish," I said as I put his cock away the best I could.

The look of lust on his face was unmistakable. It was going to be a fun night.

An hour later we were naked in bed, my head on Phil's chest and my fingers very lightly running up and down his rock hard erection. He had one hand on my back, but it occasionally shifted to the side of my breast.

"You'd fuck Rachel if you had the chance, wouldn't you?" I asked.

"Probably," Phil said honestly.

"What is it about her?"

He paused and I felt a jolt in his chest when I played with the tip of his cock.

"I don't know. She's not as good looking as you, obviously, and I doubt if she has your body," he said. "It's just...."

"She doesn't like to show it off much, does she?" I interrupted. "It's just what?"

"She's sexy," he said frankly. "There's something about her that's just...sexy."

"Even though she's forty?"

Phil took in a breath when my nails scraped the length of his cock and onto his balls.

"She doesn't act that old," he said, squeezing my nipple with two fingers. "What do you think of John, by the way?"

I smiled at what may or may not have been his effort to change the subject. "I like him. He kind of fascinates me. But I don't fantasize about him like you do Rachel."

"I don't fantasize about her. Jesus."

I took his cock in my hand. "But you want to fuck her."

I stroked him harder and Phil's body stiffened. "You asked if I would if I had the chance."

I brought him closer and closer to an orgasm. Then I said, "We should find out what she would do...given the chance."

"What?" Phil asked in amazement.

"We should give her the chance."

I saw a drop of precum on the tip of his cock. Phil's breathing was rapid and irregular.

"How?" he could barely ask.

"We'll talk about it later. Now show me you love me the most."

I rolled on top of him and sat on his cock for one of the wildest rides we ever had. I wondered what, or who, was on his mind the entire time.

I didn't bring the subject back up until the next day. When I did, I proposed to Phil that we invite Rachel and John over and, in the most suitable way possible, run the idea of a one-time swap past them. We weren't sure how it might play out, meaning: we didn't know if Phil would talk to Rachel or if I would, or both of us, or what. We agreed to play it by ear and even went so far as to say we wouldn't bring it up if the mood of the group didn't seem right at the time.

A date was set. Phil and I made every effort to give them the best food, drinks and environment we could in our humble abode. We were both nervous, but the evening went smoothly with Rachel being her usual flirtatious self around Phil. That made it a little easier when Phil was alone with Rachel, showing her the makeshift photography studio he had built from a converted extra bedroom.

According to Phil's account to me later of what happened, it went something like this:

Phil and Rachel went into the studio, leaving me to entertain John. He said Rachel initially showed interest in the lighting and props and cameras.

"How many customers have you had? Or aren't you really to that stage yet?" Rachel eventually asked.

"I'm beginning to do a little advertising with flyers and stuff," Phil told her. "A lot of word-of-mouth marketing as well. I've had maybe a dozen people, some couples. Even a pet that somebody wanted pictures of."

She laughed. "Has Charlotte posed?"

Phil had to pause, knowing that he didn't want to go into all the details, nor did he want to lie in case Rachel talked to Charlotte later.

"Uh, yeah. Once. It was more practice than anything," he said.

Rachel was examining a light, and said, "You have a portfolio, I assume."

Phil pulled out his samples album and laid it on a nearby table. Rachel began to flip through the pages until reaching the end.

"No nudes?" Rachel asked with a wicked grin.

"Um, not yet."

"Not even Charlotte?"

Phil was always a lousy liar. His hesitation and awkward look back at Rachel told her all she needed to know.

Rachel said, "I think in a private setting like this that posing nude would be...kind of fun."

She stepped closer to Phil and added, "But then, I would think almost any woman would be glad to get undressed for you, Phil."

"I guess I just haven't found them yet," he answered.

"Oh, maybe you have and you don't realize it," Rachel said. "I think I could be talked into almost anything under the right circumstances."

They were close enough to touch.

"If we were alone in here with no possibility of being interrupted?"

She smiled and said, "Especially then."

"It can be arranged," Phil told her.

Rachel's eyes widened with curiosity. "Would you? And would Charlotte?"

Phil nodded. "But with one caveat."

"Name it."

"She gets equal time with John."

Rachel ran her hand down Phil's arm and onto his fingers. She lingered there for a moment before brushing her hand across his crotch.

"Well, I guess I'll have to ask him," she said in a near whisper.

I hadn't gotten nearly as far with John, nor was it my intent to. But clearly we learned a lot about each other in that short period of time and, I had to admit, became pretty comfortable with each other. It was obvious to me that John was a different person without Rachel around. He was much more sociable. Very friendly, in fact.

I was excited to hear Phil's story when John and Rachel left that night. It seemed so improbably that it might actually happen under damn near perfect conditions of consent involving all parties. The big question mark was John and for some reason I was confident he wouldn't put a stop to it.

When Rachel called me into her office at work and told me it was OK with John, it was hard for me not to show my pleasure in the news. We agreed, without question, that it would be a onetime event, taking place during the day instead of overnight, and that no plans for meeting each other again would take place without the blessing of all four people.

Rachel was to come to my place and I was to spend the day at John's. No restrictions were ever discussed.

Not knowing if there were customary ground rules for this type of thing, I could only assume that those were fairly good guidelines. I kept thinking it was much more obvious what Rachel and Phil would do with their time. It was less clear to me what my day would be like. That didn't bother me. The mystery added to the buildup.

Thus, two plays were acted out on two separate stages on the chosen day. It's only fair you hear of both. I'll begin with mine.

It was a warm, sunny Saturday. I wore a tank top and shorts and threw a bikini in my bag in case we spent time on the deck and in their pool. I felt like a teenager on my first date when I knocked on John's door around noon and he welcomed me in.

From the very beginning, John was a completely different person than the one I knew from before. Without Rachel around, he was cheerful, sociable and chatty. Not that he ever seemed unhappy around her, but clearly she dominated whenever the two of them were together. He came out of his cocoon without her.

John may have been more genial because we were alone, but I could still sense his anxiety about the whole thing.

"You've never done this before?" I asked him while we sat in his living room.

John laughed. "No. Never. How about you?"

"Nope. But I liked the idea," I said, hoping to ease his mind a little.

"Me, too. But if it's OK with you, I'd like to, uh, take our time," he said hesitantly. "We have all day."

I smiled. "I agree. And I'm very good at taking orders. Whatever you want me to do...."

I'm pretty sure he blushed, but nodded his approval. Then he said, "I was going to grill something for lunch. Is that OK?"

"That sounds perfect."

"Let's go out back," he said, leading the way onto the deck.

It was actually very pleasant to just sit there in the sun, sip a drink, and watch John work the grill. I could sense we were both gaining confidence that the day might work out after all with each passing minute. Only once did I give a thought about Phil and Rachel, and that thought was: I bet they didn't wait this long.

John and I ate our lunch learning more about each other. He was very good at not disclosing anything about work that I expect he learned from Rachel and was none of my business. The only disappointment was the fact I only caught him glancing at the braless breasts inside my tank top a couple times. But it was early, yet, and I hadn't truly started to flirt.

That began shortly after we ate.

"I'm going to want to get into the pool soon," I told him. "Mind if I change into my bikini?"

"Am I supposed to say 'Yes, I mind' to that?" he asked in jest.

I laughed and started to enter the house. I looked over my shoulder at the door and said, "You're going to swim, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Are you changing?"

He grinned. "I swim naked."

He could hear my laugh as I disappeared behind the sliding glass door. Moments later, when I walked back out onto the deck in my bikini, I got the looks I wanted earlier. John eyed me from head to toe multiple times, even after I took the chair next to him.

"Very nice," he exclaimed.

"Thank you. I rarely wear this in public."

"I'm honored," he said. "You are denying men a magnificent body."

"C'mon," I said. "I'm going down to a chair by the pool. Grab a drink and join me. And you're not welcome if you don't at least take that shirt off."

He did, indeed, join me and I was pleasantly surprised at his well-toned body when he was down to just his shorts. Not that I thought forty year old men were incapable of being in shape, but John evidently took it seriously.

We laid on lounge chairs and talked for fifteen minutes. Then I jumped into the pool with John watching every move. I grew up by the ocean and was a good swimmer, so I quickly completed two laps and rested my arms on the edge facing him.

"Get in," I pleaded.

"No suit," he replied.

"You swim naked. Get in."

Sure enough, he dropped his shorts and almost in the same motion dove head first into the water. In that short instant, I saw a very, very nice cock that showed signs of having been affected by his watching me. I turned to watch John resurface and glide over towards me.

I leaned against the side of the pool while John tread water just in front of me.

"You're not supposed to swim within an hour of eating," I said.

"Who said anything about swimming."

John came closer, pressed his body against mine, and kissed me. The water was up to our necks as we stood on our tiptoes—at least, I had to—and embraced. The kiss grew in intensity very quickly. My hands slid up and down John's back, finally resting on his bare ass. John went straight for my tits, seizing them with both hands and nearly forcing my bikini top right off.

At the first break in the kiss, I said to him, "Can't people see us?"

"Maybe."

I just stared at him for a second, and then he added, "Doesn't that make it just a little more stimulating?"

I put my hand around his cock.

"I guess so," I said with a smile at the feel of his budding erection.

We kissed long and hard again with John probing the inside of my suit, both top and bottom.

"Take it off," I begged breathlessly.

He only removed the top at first. Despite having half of his head under water, John sucked my tits and I almost laughed at the sensation of him doing it underwater. But it felt too wonderful to laugh.

When he came back up, he said, "Sit on the edge."

I jumped up and John removed my bikini bottom. The next couple minutes were ecstasy as he ate me with incredible skill. His tongue probed every inch of my pussy and stabbed at my clit just enough to bring me close to cumming and then letting me relax. Then he was licking me again and I moaned in delight.

John pulled me into the water and said, "Turn around. Brace yourself on the edge."

I eagerly did as he said and spread my legs when I felt him move closer. He wrapped his arms around me and held my tits.

"You said you would do anything?" he said into my ear.

I nodded.

"Then I want you to cum for me. I want to hear you cum, Charlotte."

John had placed his cock at the entrance to my pussy. I was practically shaking with desire when I felt the tip begin to enter me. He squeezed both nipples at the exact same time he thrust forward.

"Ohhhhhh God!" I cried out. "Yes, John. Yes!"

I braced myself and he fucked me harder. The water splashed over the edge as we both swayed back and forth, John's thick cock easily filling my pussy with each plunge forward. He moved a hand down to my clit and rubbed it.

I begged for more and bent over at the waist, pushing my ass and pussy back into him. I couldn't believe the satisfaction his cock was giving me, considering the last time I saw it John wasn't really hard yet. Now it was swiftly edging me closer and closer to an orgasm.

"C'mon, Charlotte. That's it. Cum so I can hear you," he urged.

I could only moan and sense my body building up to a climax. I could care less who could see us or hear us. John was driving me crazy.

"Harder, John! Yes. Yesssss! Ohhhh fuck."

He stroked my clit harder and I shrieked, "Now! Now!"

Those were the last words he could understand. My pussy contracted and squeezed his cock again and again as I came. Small waves bounced off the side of the pool and back against my tits, exciting my nipples even more and prolonging the already lengthy orgasm.

John timed it perfectly. He cried out and began to empty his cock into me in unison. Our combined moans of joy most likely would have been audible to any neighbor, but we never hesitated in continuing to fuck and cum and let each other know about it.

John was outstanding, to say the least. The quiet guy I first met just needed to be on his own and I was a more than willing participant.

We somehow managed to climb out and fall into the lounge chairs when it was over. Several minutes later, we reentered the house with clothes in hand.

"Don't get dressed," John requested. "I like you the way you are."

"I don't mind at all. Now I can get a better look at what made me cum so hard," I told him.

We sat and talked for a long time, completely comfortable in our nakedness despite the novelty of it all. I was a good girl for as long as I could, but moving about the house as we did in that time and watching each other the entire time finally caused me to cave.

I found myself between John's legs as he sat on the couch. I was on my knees licking my way up to his balls and cock. I could see him getting harder when I kissed his balls and I could feel him throb when my tongue skated from one end of his cock to the other.

I teased him unmercifully with my tongue and lips until I thought his long, thick cock would explode. That was what I had felt inside me in the pool and that was what I wanted in my mouth. I sucked on John's cock for a couple minutes, taking him as deep into my throat as I could. His groans told me he was close.

So I climbed into his lap, sat on the superb hardness of his shaft, and leaned forward to let John suck on my tits. My nipples and clit have always been my 'weakest' points. It only takes a little manipulation in those areas to bring me to the brink of an orgasm and John was very, very skillful. He knew just how hard to bite and when to lick. All the time, his cock slid in and out with the help of my wet pussy.

If we had gone the rest of the day like that I would have been happy, but I knew I would cum too fast. And God did I cum. The second episode of sex I have in a fairly short span is always better. This was fantastic. John definitely heard me and his own orgasm continued even after we fell sideways onto the couch and he kept pounding his cock into me.

Soon after we finished, John looked at me and said, "Thank you for being so...patient, Charlotte. Rachel has a tendency to be, um, I guess I would call it aggressive. Today was very, very nice."

I didn't ask John to expand on what he meant. Ends up, I didn't have to. As soon as I heard Phil's account of how his day with Rachel went, I understood.

Phil answered the door and let Rachel in, glad to see her informally dressed for the first time. Rachel was well known for her dressy outfits at work, but she showed up in Capri pants and a casual short sleeve top that buttoned down the front.

He had barely closed the door when Rachel pulled him toward her and initiated a shockingly adoring kiss. It took a few seconds, but Phil allowed his attraction to her to kick in and the two were soon pressed against the wall in a lengthy introduction to each other's bodies.

Before it was over, Phil had turned Rachel around and was leaning into her, gripping her bare breasts through the top and feeling his cock harden under her palm.

Rachel was the first to speak.

"I don't want my title at work to interfere with what we do today, Phil," Rachel said. "For the next few hours we are friends, free to do whatever we want."

Phil was pretty sure from the moment she walked in the door that Rachel's title wasn't of great concern to him or her, so he didn't see the need for her speech. But he assured her everything was fine. His cock assured him it was going to be an interesting 'few hours.'

Phil didn't waste any time before asking Rachel if she wanted anything to eat or drink and was in the kitchen listening for her answer when he saw her following him into the room. He was about to open the refrigerator but was stopped by her arms wrapped around him.