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Audition

By: Balaak



I have been trying so hard to break into the film industry that my husband thinks I'm willing to sell my soul. Mark says that I'll end up having to sign mysterious contracts in blood.

Where does he get this stuff, you know?

I've done everything I'm supposed to. I landed an agent - that was hard! I had my composite and my resume of acting classes and plays from high school and college. I went on a few interviews for parts, but only a few. It was hard enough to get an agent to take me on, but only four interviews in eighteen months?

I was angry, you know?

I got to the point where I needed work. Mark was supporting us on his income from the low-level clerk work he did. His job had a lot of room to advance, and it looked good for him. He supported me emotionally in my acting pursuit, but I could tell he was as anxious as I was for me to get some kind of break.

I tried the accepted route, but was getting nowhere. I started looking through the newspaper for a part time job. What I found there was exciting! I remember running to Mark and jumping around as I showed him. There were dozens of ads for auditions in the classifieds. All I got from him was an eyebrow.

"You know what those are?" He was shaking his head.

"Huh?" How could he know anything about them?

"Read the print there, Penny," he pointed. "See that one? 'Models. Nudity.'"

"Oh come on," I pouted. "They're not all like that!"

He just looked at me with one of those know-it-all male looks. What a shit. Why did he think he knew everything? "This one doesn't say anything about models."

"Uh huh, and what does partial-nudity mean?" He cocked his head at me to make me feel stupid.

"Why are you being like this? You know how much I want to break into the business. Partial means partial, what else?" I knew he was anxious, but what had caused him to suddenly decide not to support me?

"I want you to act, but those kind of auditions are for sex flicks," he said with a slow manner. 

He was talking to me like I was a little child. I hated when he did that. Just because he was a man, he thought he knew everything. "You don't know those are all sex flicks. Besides, they can't advertise in the public paper."

"What?" He laughed. "Where do you think they advertise?"

His manner had passed from slightly annoying to really aggravating. His tone said that I was being stupid and it made me even madder.

"It would be indecent. You can't advertise that stuff in the paper." I had to be right. You couldn't advertise for sex in the newspaper, could you? They had special sex papers for that.

"Well, what do you think it means by nudity, then?"

"Obviously for the movies that have some tit, so what? Almost every actress has done a movie and shows some tit. They practically show it on prime time now." Was he that dense?

"And you think I'm going to be all for you going to an audition where they have you get partially naked?"

Was he being deliberately dense? "What do you think would happen if I got a role opposite some big name male star that called for a kissing scene in a bedroom? With some nudity involved?"

"Well, that's different..." He didn't finish.

"How?" I had him. He could see his point was wrong. "If Mel, or Brad, or Leonardo had a bedroom scene with me, kissing, where he was supposed to be touching me, how do you think it gets accomplished without some nudity?"

I could see him thinking, and he looked bothered. Well, he had to expect if I landed a big role that something like that could happen. Didn't he?

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"Haven't you thought that I might be called to do something like that? Would you be able to handle me in a sex scene on film?"

"I guess," he allowed. "It's all faked, anyway."

"Right, so where's the problem?" I could see the total confusion on his face.

"But these," he pointed at the paper, "are sex films."

"Are not. Partial nudity is all over the movies."

"Okay, okay," he held up a hand. "I don't want to argue about it."

"Fine, I'm going to call about these partial nudity ones."

"Wait a minute, Penny..." He looked like he was going to start again.

"Look, are you supporting me in my career, or not? You know how much I want to act!"

He was silent for a moment. "Sure, but make me a promise?"

"What?"

"Promise me you'll walk out if the audition turns into a sex audition."

I laughed. "Why, of course, silly."

I had an appointment for an audition! I mean, the very first one I called. I was asked if I had a problem with modeling in partial nudity or working with others for the audition. So, they were up front on the phone and the man sounded really nice.

I was so happy and Mark seemed happy, too, but he reminded me of my promise. He wanted to make love the night before, but I told him that it could effect the audition if I was sore, or acted different.

The audition hall was a studio lot in a warehouse district. Lots of nice looking cars were parked around and the reception room inside was comfortable. I was handed some standard forms to fill out about my personal info and age. I had done these before on the few interviews I had been on.

I had made sure I came looking my best. I had my chestnut hair lightly curled with minimal make-up, in case they wanted to apply some. I was wearing my khaki shorts and white loose blouse. I hadn't wore a bra, because I expected to have to take my blouse off anyway.

Bruce, the producer, came into the reception room and shook my hand. His hand was firm, but very soft. He made me feel right at home. He led me back into the audition studio and showed me the set. There was an overstuffed chair and a small bed with only a bright white mattress sheet.

He told me what I would be doing for the audition. I was to sit in the chair and answer some personal questions for the camera, and then do some modeling. Afterwards, he would have me do some partial nudity footage with another actor or two, depending on how good I performed. And that was it.

I was anxious to get started and nervous. I was finally getting some interviews. I wondered if I could fit in more. I'd have to call all the other places when I got back to the apartment. I could load up and just blaze through them until I got a part. I'd even do the nude modeling, if it got me a part.

I answered several typical questions. "Penny, thirty-three, married, no kids."

"No kids, but married? How come?" Bruce asked with genuine interest.

Most people didn't care to ask why. Not even my agent had asked. I immediately liked Bruce. "Well, I can't have any. Spent a lot of money trying."

"You're infertile? Or your husband?" His voice was all sympathy.

"Me," I shrugged. "Just something I have to deal with, I suppose."

Bruce had me get up and do some modeling poses with the camera running. He would call out what he wanted me to do and seemed pleased that I was able to react to his instructions without hesitation.

"Beautiful legs, Penny," Bruce murmured. "Very nice."

I felt myself blush. What a nice compliment.

I went through many different poses, many suggestive. It was all part of the biz, you know? He had me finally remove my top. I had wondered when that was coming, and I had prepared myself. I tried to remove it as smoothly as possible with no hesitation.

"Wonderful!" Bruce smiled. "You're all natural."

Why did he have to bring that up? I knew I wasn't sporting the kind of tits men wanted to see. He must have seen the look on my face.

"No, don't take that wrong. I love your boobs. Natural ones are so much better than fake ones, in my opinion." He smiled. "I hope that doesn't embarrass you."

With relief, I sighed. "No, and thank you."

Bruce called back over his shoulder to some of the crew behind him. "Johnny, come give us a hand here."

I was directed to go through some poses with Johnny, a tall bodybuilder with a sculpted figure. I almost felt like a lump next to him.

"Penny, you don't mind showing us your ability to pose with a male actor, do you?" Bruce made sure I was okay with everything.

There was no way I was going to ruin my chances. I had to show that I was willing to go as far as any sex scene I had seen in any movie. Hopefully, they wouldn't require me to be totally nude and fake a sex scene with a nude guy, but if it came to that, wouldn't I have to go through with it? What if I froze up on Mel or Leonardo? I had to show them my resolve and easy ability to work with what I was given. This was as much for Leonardo, as for me. "Of course not, I'm ready."

I had assumed that I might get touched, so I was prepared for it when it happened. I didn't even bat an eyelash when Johnny touched my arms. We moved and posed for the camera and when Johnny was directed to touch my breasts, I was ready for that too. His hands slid over my breasts and the tickle on my nipples rippled through me. I almost flinched and laughed, but instead turned it into a bright smile.

"There you go, Penny!" Bruce was smiling, too. 

I felt so good and at ease. This was going well.

"Barry? Get in here for the glamor trio." Bruce waved.

A tall black man walked onto the set and smiled at me. He had an open face with an easy smile and bright eyes. I've never looked at a black man that way, but he was handsome if I had to judge.

I was told to take off the shirts of the two men for the camera. Johhny's came off first. His chest was overbuilt and hairless. It was nice to touch when I was told to. Barry's was next, and his chest was more defined while being smaller, more in proportion. I had never touched a black man's chest before, and was surprised to find it the same as Johnny's. Well, I guess I shouldn't have thought they would be different.

A few poses of us standing sandwiched like seen in many magazines were done, and then Bruce had more questions for me.

"We'd like to see how you react to nudity while not being nude yourself. Do you have a problem with full nudity?"

"Me nude?" 

"No, do you have a problem with undressing Johnny and Barry and them being nude?" Bruce tilted his head at me in a considering look.

I knew that look. Was I willing to overlook any questions of propriety for the camera? Would I balk if asked to be in a scene where I had to undress another actor? No way. I didn't have a problem with their nudity. "Oh, sorry!"

"No problem; just undress them the rest of the way and let's see how you do."

His words rang in my head. This was all a test. Everything. I was going to pass the test, no matter what. I squatted and unzipped Barry's pants. I froze for the briefest moment when I unzipped and pulled down his pants a little. He wasn't wearing any underwear and my face was just a foot away from his cock.

Wow. I was just a little shocked, but tried to make it look like I was just looking at it. I slid his pants down and he stepped out of them. I tried not to look, but then realized that not looking would look bad. So I made sure I looked at it. My first look at a black cock showed me it was the same as any other. He was circumcised and it looked soft. It was a little large like it was half hard. Oh well, at least it wasn't me standing there slightly turned on. Maybe he liked my boobs.

Would Leonardo like my boobs and be half hard? I smiled.

"Nice, Penny, nice," Bruce had seen my smile.

I turned and undressed Johnny, too. His cock was softer, but it looked really wide. I absently wondered what it looked like hard.

Bruce had us do some more poses again where they were hugging me and dancing. I could feel both of them through my thin shorts. Don't get the wrong idea, I wasn't turned on or anything. This was a test and I was going to show I could be in any scene in any feature film.

"Penny, you're doing great," Bruce said. "Would you mind it if we skipped a second audition and just tested you all in one? You have wonderful potential."

My heart jumped. My pulse raced as I tried not to jump and bubble at his words. "Sure, whatever you think!"

"Great! I have a feeling this is going to be a promising session." Bruce grinned hugely at me.

His enthusiasm washed away all fears, although, to be honest, I wasn't fearing anything. Rather, I was nervous that they might not like me. His words did away with that.

"What I'd like you to do, Penny, is do a slow dance with your hands over your head as Johnny removes your shorts."

I guess that meant the second audition required my full nudity. I had to expect that somewhere along the line. Otherwise, how would they know whether a body-double was needed? This was obviously an audition for a non-speaking part, because there were no scripts to read off of and all the camera work was visual impressions of me. Which all meant, I was auditioning for an eye-candy part.

My husband thinks I can't connect two dots.

I raised my arms and did a slow twirl as they undid my shorts. Johnny slid them down and eyed my panties. His smile was natural. Guys. They just couldn't keep their minds on work.

Barry slid my panties down and I stepped out of them. Bruce had the three of us repeat the hug, with me sandwiched between the two naked men. I was amazed at my calm. Surely they could see my professionalism. Even with Barry's cock nestled in my ass cheeks and Johnny's rubbing on my mound, I was nothing but smiles.

I might have to do stuff like this in any movie I played in; Mark just didn't understand that. Just because I did a nude scene doesn't mean I'm in love with the actor. However, I didn't think I would be able to tell my husband later tonight that I had done this.

"Penny? I'd like to see how you react to touching? Would you handle both Johnny and Barry for me?"

Wow, touching. You usually don't see the actress touching the man, except his butt. Usually the actor touches the actress. I didn't mind having my ass and tits fondled on camera, I could pass it off. But...

No, I better not show I had any reservations. Camera sex was all faked, anyway. I gingerly took hold of Barry and Johnny as they turned to me. I tried to look natural. That didn't work, so I imagined that I was grabbing Mark. That worked. Of course, the natural course of my imagination took over and I stroked both for the camera.

"Excellent, Penny!" Bruce clapped. "You're a natural!"

I beamed at the camera and Bruce as I stroked the two naked men to my sides. It was a little awkward, though, reaching partly down to stroke, so I squatted down. I stroked their cocks at eye level and smiled. Both men had very nice looking cocks, although Johnny's was almost funny, it was so wide. Being able to stroke off two men and knowing I didn't have to finish them was fun. I kept imagining each guy was Mark and gave them some really good hand jobs.

"Okay, let's see how you react to being touched."

I didn't know what to say. Johnny pulled me up as I let go of their very hard cocks. Johnny smiled at me and tenderly placed his hand on my mound. I shivered at the touch. It was so light that it tickled. Barry's hands came from behind me and cupped my breasts.

Oh shit. 

Electric arcs jolted me from my nipples to my clit. I go nuts over the right kind of tittle play, and Barry was doing it just right. My head got a little light and I leaned back to keep from looking like a dizzy dork on camera. Barry leaned me against his chest and I could feel his hard cock pressing against my ass. Johnny's fingers slowly worked over my mound as he knelt in front of me. I really tried to keep my concentration on the camera, but it just felt way too good!

"Beautiful!" Bruce encouraged me.

I guess I was doing okay, even if I was having trouble.

Johnny's finger slid along my lips and a moan escaped me. I don't know where that came from! I blushed furiously. Barry's hands were light feathers of pleasure on my tits and his warm chest felt good on my back.

"Flow with it, girl!" Bruce called out. "Let's see what you can do."

I was trying to breathe steady, but Barry's hands and Johnny's finger were chasing pleasure back and forth on my body. My hips undulated once in a long, sinuous move that brought murmurs of approval from not only Bruce, but Barry and Johnny, also. 

When I felt the wet touch of Johnny's tongue on my clit, my body convulsed in a ripple of pleasure and gasping. My eyes flew open and I clawed at Johnny's head. Was he supposed to do that? I looked over at Bruce, and he held up an okay sign with his fingers. He nodded to back it up.

Up and down my clit ran a scorching fire of ecstasy. Barry kissed my neck as his hands worked over my nipples in little circles and light pinches. I gasped faster and harder.

Oh shit, I was going to come. How embarrassing.

Bruce must have sensed it. "Do you think we could get an orgasm shot from you, or is that too much?"

The orgasm was already starting. The waves crashed higher and higher as I looked over at Bruce. "Uhnh... uhhh... ye...uhh... yesss..."

My hips shoved hard against Johnny's tongue and I moaned out in orgasmic relief. I tried to keep it low, subdued. My whole body shook with the effort of trying to hold it in. I was amazed that two strangers could do this to me. I hoped it didn't hurt their impression of me.

My eyes tried to focus as Barry held me against him. Johnny stood up and gently planted a kiss on me. I kissed him back, smoothly imagining that it was Mark kissing me. The kiss was very nice for being faked, and Johnny made it all the more realistic by pressing his hard cock between my legs. It nestled there, angled down against my clit. My thighs opened and closed against it, giving it a slight massage as I might if Mark was there. It was okay if I teased him, wasn't it? It would look good on the camera, anyway.

Johnny moved me over to the bed and I gratefully sank down onto it. My legs were shaking. Barry was on one side of me and Johhny on the other. Barry took his turn at my mound with his tongue. Oh my gosh, I have to embarrass myself again? There was no way I could hold back a second orgasm. They always came harder. Johnny kissed me and licked my tits as I got tongued by Barry.

Stars swam in my eyes and my breathing grew ragged again. I'm not sure how or why or if Bruce had said anything, but Johnny's cock was suddenly in my face. I gripped it and imagined Mark as I sucked him down my throat.

I could hear Bruce clapping and encouraging me. I simply can not tell Mark about this. Obviously, some of the sex scenes are not faked if this was a necessary part of any scene. I was determined to show how professional I was. I just hoped they didn't see that I was really turned on. Shit, no way could I tell Mark.

When Johnny moved back and removed his cock from my mouth, I was relieved.

Hmm. I felt relief? Well, it must have been the guilt of wanting to withhold this from Mark, and maybe because I had done well and didn't have to do it anymore for the audition. Just maybe, too, I was enjoying it too much.

Barry moved up to my other side and his cock tapped my cheek. Oh shit. I was being tested on Barry, too? If I balked, they might think I am a racist or something. I gripped his cock as I quickly thought through it. Johnny moved between my legs and put his tongue back on me. I moaned and bucked my hips. Knowing that I was being watched, I put aside my thoughts and sucked Barry's cock into my mouth. It was easier to suck, not being so wide, and didn't taste different, like I thought it might.

Closing my eyes, I imagined Mark's cock and sucked with more vigor.

"Yeah," Barry moaned.

"I love you, Penny," Bruce said with enthusiasm. "Go with it."

The pleasure from Johnny's tongue dulled my senses. He pulled back and I actually felt disappointed. But then he was back. I sucked harder on Barry until I realized that Johnny wasn't pushing his tongue into me. Whatever that was, it was far too wide and hard. I raised my hips up in my delirium and looked down. Johnny was sitting on his shins, his fat cock touching my super wet pussy.


Audition



When Eleanor Martin took a last look in the mirror, a small yelp of amusement escaped her. The transformation was extraordinary. She looked younger than her 23 years. Eighteen at most. It was partly the hair – cut short by a gay Columbian with a shaven head at a cost that had made her gasp. But what the hell. The magazine had paid. They'd helped with the make-up too, Sarah quietly steering her towards a plum-coloured lipstick and the sort of glittery silver eyeshadow she might have worn at Christmas but probably wouldn't. She experimented with a smile. Yes - young, brazen, but still vulnerable - the face looking back at her was perfect. 

Against Mandy's advice she'd rejected the offer of a wire. It would be just one more thing to worry about and hard to conceal under the t-shirt and stretch jeans. Mandy had wanted her to hand the story over to someone with more experience, but Eleanor resisted. She might have come straight from university but she was never going to be able to prove her worth as a journalist unless they gave her the chance. In the end Mandy had shrugged and given in, peering at her over the top of her glasses like a disapproving headmistress. 

Eleanor turned and considered her profile. The budget had provided the underwear too. It was the only thing she was really pleased with. Light and understated. You'd have to look closely to see she was wearing a bra at all. Her nipples were still defined under the thin cotton of her t-shirt. For a moment she wondered if this might be asking for trouble? But she pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She looked good. And besides, despite what Mandy and the others thought, she could take care of herself.

When she'd first heard the girl's story, sitting over a mug of coffee in Starbucks, she thought it might make a couple of paragraphs. Young girl with a head stuffed full of ideas by television. It was only when she'd gone to the web to find the pictures that the scale of the operation hit her. Some of the girls didn't look old enough to be out on their own. 

In the taxi she dialled the office and killed the call before anyone answered. Checked the number was on the redial button. Then asked the driver to drop her round the corner from the hotel. It wasn't what she'd expected. She made a mental sketch of the foyer. Club chairs, glass topped tables, a carpet deep enough to muffle a stampede. There was nothing low-rent about this place. She wondered what he was paying for the room. A hundred? A hundred and fifty? She could easily phone up later and check. 

The man behind the desk didn't bat an eyelid when she gave the name.

"Is Mr Solomon expecting you?"

"Yes."

"316. Third floor. Turn left out of the lifts." 

He offered a distant professional smile. The sort you paid for at a place like this, she thought. Eleanor was pleased with the observation and filed it away for later.

It was quiet upstairs. The anonymity was unsettling. She passed a young girl pushing a laundry trolly. She waited until she had disappeared before she found the room. 

There was a Do Not Disturb sign on the door of 316. For a moment she hesitated. She was surprised to find how nervous she was. But that was no bad thing. The last thing she needed was to seem self-assured. She was perfectly safe. The magazine knew she was coming. How much worse it must be for the girls who really thought that this door – or one very like it – was going to open onto a future under the bright lights of a film studio. When she knocked her knuckles seemed to make no impression on the heavy door. She tried again. This time someone turned the handle from the other side and the door swung open. Solomon was talking on a mobile. He waved her into the room and stood looking out of the window as he finished his call.

"Four o'clock" he was saying, "if she can't do that, forget it."

Eleanor looked round the room. The usual anonymous décor. Some flowers on the night table. Black metal tripod. A surprisingly small camera lying on the big bed among a litter of video boxes. The only chair had a leather coat with a torn lining draped over it. 

"I've got 24 hours, that's all. So no more fucking about, ok?" The call was evidently over. Soloman threw the mobile down onto the bed. "Prick."

He wasn't a big man. Round shouldered. About 45. She could see the hair curling on his neck and imagined the pelt that must cover his back under the tee shirt. But there was an energy about him. Something animal-like. A heavy gold bracelet bumped at his wrist. 

He turned to look at her for the first time. 

"Hi", she said, more confident than she felt. "I phoned this morning..."

But Solomon held up his hand to stop her. And continued to stare. He was openly measuring her. No man had looked at her like this before. He studied her face. Her breasts and legs. His appraisal was disconcerting. She knew this man cared nothing about her. He wasn't interested in her intelligence, her personality – in any of the things that made her who she was. This man was interested only in one thing. Her potential for sexual arousal. 

Solomon walked slowly round her, inspecting her from every angle. Under this scrutiny she felt a moment's panic. Worrying what she would say if he just shook his head. Said, no, she wasn't up to it. She was wasting her time. When he'd come full circle he looked at her again. And then he smiled. She felt absurdly grateful. 

"What's your name?"

"Jenny."

"Real name?" 

Before she could answer he waved his question aside. 

"Doesn't matter. Who gives a shit, eh?"

He pointed to the bed.

"Sit down. Make yourself comfortable."

Eleanor did as she was told while Solomon recovered the camera and began slotting cassettes into the video machine. She felt the bed give under her as she sank into the expensive mattress, perching on the edge and crossing her long legs. Released from his gaze she found her professional persona reasserting itself. Yes, she thought, I can see how it happens. A young girl with no experience of the world and perhaps just a few fumbling encounters with boys who knew less than they did. What chance would she have against this kind of certainty? Solomon was still talking. She forced herself to concentrate.

"It's a tough business. Most people have no idea what's involved. But what can you do?"

He looked at her and smiled. She found herself returning the smile, grateful to be sharing the conspiracy. 

"You've got a good body, you know that? Sure you do. Look at you."

He lifted the camera. Her image appeared on the television screen and surged towards her as he worked the zoom. 

"It's a difficult business. A lot of frauds. But I don't have to tell you that. And so many girls. Jesus, you wouldn't believe how many. They think it's just a question of looking good. If only it was that easy. But this is the real world. If they're going to make it, they have to want it. I have to say the legal shit about you being here. Just to keep us clean. You're here under your own will aren't you? "

"Yes – I'm – Yes, of course."

"That's fine. I like your smile, you know? It's got something."

What had she just done? Given him the green light. On camera. Was that a mistake? Her mind was racing.

"Ok, I'm coming in closer. Just smile at the camera. You've got to treat it as your friend. That's good."

He was so close she had to lean back. A knee sank into the mattress beside her. His presence was disturbing. She tried to concentrate on the dark surface of the lens and failed to notice when his hand reached out and cupped her jaw. She flinched instinctively. Soloman lowered the camera. He looked at her with disappointment. She felt absurdly that she'd failed him.

"Sorry", she blurted. "You made me jump."

He looked at her for a long moment. It seemed as if he was judging her. 

"Just relax, ok? 

She nodded. Then he lifted the camera again. Once more the lens was staring at her. Sucking her in. She smiled.

"That's better".

This time she was ready for him. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he moved her head a little to one side, then the other.

"Good. I like that. I like that a lot."

She was breathing more heavily now, trying desperately to keep her head clear. She could feel the heat off him, the heavy animal presence invading her, seeming to empty her of herself. For a moment the possibility she might have miscalculated flickered across her mind. But she pushed it aside. That was ridiculous. She was still in control. She could stop this at any point. It was a job, that's all, like any other. And she would expose this man, the ugly man with the camera whose lens was holding her, whose hand was sliding over her cheek, pushing the hair back from one eye, fingertips tracing the outline of her eyebrow, down the line of her nose. Now he was brushing her lips, tracing the line of the lip gloss. She felt the weight of the finger pull at her bottom lip and then, before she realised what was happening, slip forward. She opened instinctively and took him in.

"That's good –" 

His finger was in her mouth. Her mind was racing. How had she let him do that? Part of her was struggling to weigh the consequences. If she pulled away now, it would be over. He'd turn her out for sure. Wouldn't he? But there was another part of her that made all these calculations irrelevant. The finger was sliding – very slowly - backwards and forwards. But even in her panic something had taken over. She found her tongue reaching for him. He began to withdraw very slowly. She tried to blank her mind, tried not to think. Felt, as the wet finger slipped out between her lips, a sudden twinge of regret. And then – yes - as the finger returned to slide it's full length back into the warm interior, a surge of gratitude. Jesus, he had to stop this. She felt the warmth rising between her legs, and squeezed her thighs tightly together. Again the finger withdrew slowly. She felt it leave her lips. And then without thinking felt herself reach forward and take it again. 

"Well, well, well. We like that, don't we?"

What was happening to her? She felt her grip on the situation begin to slide as the certainties that had brought her here began to slip out of reach. And then two words from Solomon undid her.

"Good girl", said Solomon.

Without warning she was ambushed by a memory that had lain hidden for years. In a moment everything had changed. At the sound of his voice, she was a child again. The anonymous hotel room disappeared and she was back in the cluttered parlour with the glass-fronted cupboard that smelled of almonds. Her aunt was holding her hand tightly while the man they said was her father told her she had to be a good girl and be brave and not cry and not to forget him. And he'd hugged her and she felt the coarse cloth of his coat against her cheek – and then the sudden absence, the emptiness in the room, an emptiness that invaded her and lasted a lifetime. She felt a sob rise in her throat. Something had opened inside her. Solomon felt the change. 

"Lie down."

There was no question of disobeying. Her will had dissolved in the heat that emanated between her legs. All she wanted was to please this man and for him to show his pleasure. Eleanora subsided onto the bed and without lowering the camera Solomon straddled her and turned the lens down on her from directly above. His stubby finger was at her lips again and she opened gratefully and took him in.

"Good girl - good girl - good girl...."

She was powerless against the words. All the years of absence crowded in on her, all the ringing emptiness that had been the soundtrack to her young life was suddenly confounded by the undeniable presence of the finger solid and real and in her mouth. Her father might have gone. But Solomon was here.

"Lift your top"

She did as she was asked, she wanted to please him, how could she not? When he was going to make everything all right again. She took the tight cloth of the new tee shirt and slid it up over her breasts. Solomon looked down on her, letting the lens linger over her bra where the nipples strained at the thin fabric. His fingertips brushed the swollen flesh.

"Take it off".

Eleanora peeled the tee shirt over her head and lay back. Now the stubby finger – still moist from her mouth – was burrowing in at the top of her bra working it's way below her nipple. She wanted to help him now – she slipped the strap from her shoulder and reached behind her for the clasp. As soon as it was done he tossed it aside. She was pleased her breasts were free. She was proud of them, happy she could offer them to him, desperate for his gratitude. She wasn't disappointed.

"Nice. Very nice, Jenny."

Solomon took her nipple and rolled it between his finger and thumb. Then squeezed so hard that a bolt of pain shot through her – an electric current that began at her breast and seemed to dart between her legs where she could feel the moisture leaking from her. 

"I think we're going to get on just fine, don't you?"

And then his hand had left her breast and was pulling at the belt round his waist. Her hands flew to help him, opening the trousers that were drawn tight against his ample belly, unzipping him and reaching inside to where the purple stubby cock strained against his pants. And then it was free and rising to meet her.

All this time, Solomon's grip in the camera had not relaxed.

Now she was sitting on the edge of the bed again, he was standing close, still holding her in the camera lens. 

"Hold it in your tits", he said, "I want you to squeeze it."

His cock was not long, but it's girth was alarming. She wondered how it would feel in her mouth. How she would strain to take it in. She did as she was asked, taking a breast in each hand and using them to hold him. Solomon began to move his hips, driving the purple head between the soft mounds of her breasts. She could feel the veins on him, the massive solidity of the cock sliding backwards and forwards. 

Matthew loved her breasts. He would uncover them as if they were something rare and precious and stroke them with infinite care. He had nothing of Solomon's brutality and strength. Eleanor wondered how many other breasts this cock had plundered. How many mouths. And the thought made her dizzy. She wanted more of it. Wanted it inside her. Not just bruising her like this, taking her, taking everything she had. She released her breasts and reached for him, then going down on her knees opened her lips to him and took his girth into her mouth.

But this was wrong. Solomon pushed her away. "Not yet", he said. "Open your jeans."

Eleanora sat back and undid the button on her jeans. Solomon had pulled away. The camera continued to stare. Beyond him she could see an image of herself undoing the zip fly.

"Put your hand inside. Touch yourself."

She did as she was asked. Dipping her finger into the moisture that had seeped from her swollen lips. She pushed inside and a groan escaped her. She watched the girl on the. Saw her back arch.

"That's it. Good girl."

She came out again, scraping the tip of her nail against her clit. It was almost more than she could bear. She looked at the man in front of her holding the camera. He stood with his feet planted firmly in the thick pile of the carpet, the eye of the lens staring at her dispassionately, his cock still straining forwards from his open fly. 

"Take them off."

She pulled of her jeans, and the lacy thong. Solomon's rough hand reached for her. His blunt fingers found what he was looking for and buried themselves in her moist interior. Two fingers were inside her. His thumb worked her clitoris. She could feel the brutality of the man taking from her what he wanted.

"Lift your legs higher."

She did as he asked. He pulled out his fingers and smeared her juices over the tight button of her anus. Then probed with his middle finger. She tensed against him. He slapped her hard without lowering the camera. Then returned his finger and forced an entry. She cried out in pain as Solomon filled her and just as suddenly pulled out.

He began to work with greater urgency. He dragged her upright. Grasped the back of her neck and guided her mouth to his cock. She stretched to take him in. He let her move her lips along his length and then began to thrust at her with a steady rhythm. He was breathing more heavily now. Driving into her throat so that she almost gagged. But she held him, straining her lips as she struggled to take him down. He still had the camera. She could feel he was close, felt a wave of gratitude that she could do this for him, yearned to feel the hot spurt of come in her throat. Solomon wound his free hand in her hair – and then brutally yanked himself free.

"No –" he said. " Get on the bed"

Eleanora was confused. But did as she was asked. Once more Solomon straddled for her and she reached for him.

"Leave it" he said. "Just lie back.."

And he began to work his cock with his free hand, the muscular fingers driving along it's length, the heavy gold bracelet bouncing at his wrist. Eleanora stared at the purple head each time it emerged from his fist, at the narrow slit that would any moment spit it's creamy load at her face.

She turned aside and watched the girl on the screen, saw her flinch and caught the briefest glimpse of the trail of come snaking into her eyes and hair before she slipped into the stinging dark. 

Back in the flat she dissolved into tears the moment the door closed behind her. She couldn't sit still. She roamed from room to room in search of the young woman who had begun the day so sure of her place in the world. She came to a halt in front of the bathroom mirror. The face looking back at her was a stranger.

Eleanor stripped off the new tee shirt and the underwear and jeans and stood naked facing the full-length mirror. There was a bruise starting to show on her right breast. She traced the outline with her fingers. And then as if she could wash the mark from her skin, turned on the shower and scrubbed herself. But then slowly - anger - began to replace the sense of helplessness. 

By the time Matthew arrived she felt numb. He asked about her interview but barely listened to her mumbled replies. All through supper she suffered with growing impatience the monologue of his day, his difficult clients, the stupidity of the girls in the office. None of it meant anything to her. She found herself watching his hands. They were thin and pale, like a girls. The nails stood out pink and wholesome. By the time he'd finished eating, she could wait no longer.

"Matthew, I want you to fuck me."

She registered the moment's shock at the word. Saw him adjust, take it in his stride.

"Great idea." He smiled at her indulgently. "Let me just clear these things away –"

"No. Now. I want you to fuck me now. Here"

The smile was still there, but the life had gone out of it. She had her blouse over her head before she reached him. Matthew tried to kiss her but she pulled away. 

"Eleanor – wait -"

And then she was on her knees tugging at his belt.

"Eleanor – we don't have to do this here –"

But she took no notice. In another moment she had him free and hardening in her hands. Eleanor dipped her head and took him into her mouth. She began to work him with her tongue.

"Wait – no –"

She wanted him to wrap his fingers in her hair and drive himself into her throat, wanted him to fuck her mouth as if she was a £10 whore in a King's Cross doorway. She wanted to feel him come in her throat, on her face, on her breasts -

"Just wait, can't you!"

Matthew pulled away and took a step back. Eleanor stared at him from the floor. She was breathing hard. A strand of saliva trailed from her lips. For a moment he stared back, a look of disbelief on his face. 

"Just – just wait," he said again. 




Audition



And then he looked away. 

Eleanor crossed the hotel foyer and headed for the stairs. She was out of breath by the time she reached Solomon's room. She had no idea what she would say to him.

She had to knock several times before the door opened a fraction and Solomon's face looked out.

"What do you want?"

It came to her that he didn't recognise her. She struggled to explain.

"I was here this afternoon – "

"Sure. I remember. Look, this is a bad time. Why don't' you come back tomorrow?"

"I can't. I need to see you now."

"Look, angel. I'm busy, ok? Tomorrow."

She was surprised by the anguish in her voice. "No – you don't understand, you must let me in!"

Solomon opened the door so that she could see inside.

The girl was kneeling by the foot of the bed. She wore a blindfold. Her hands were tied behind her. There were marks on her breasts, livid, raw. For the first time she saw the belt in Solomon's hand.

"I said it wasn't a good time." And he began to close the door. 

But Eleanora was quicker. She reached out with her hand. Put her weight against the closing door, stopping him. 

"Please, " she said. "Please..."

She wasn't going to lose him now.



Audition



She had been acting since she was eight. Now, ten years later, she was an accomplished thespian with a good portfolio. She knew, however, that turning eighteen meant she would be subjected to things that had not been present when she was too young. She was no virgin, but neither was she a slut. 

She had auditioned for three parts since coming to Hollywood six months ago and had run into the infamous 'casting couch' at each one of them. She complained bitterly to her agent and insisted he accompany her to the next audition.

At the next audition, the agent wanted to participate in the casting couch procedure along with the producer. She fired him on the spot and stalked angrily out of the studio.

It took her two weeks to find a good female agent. She recognized that there was a good chance that the new agent was a lesbian (hooray for Hollywood), but she knew it would be easy to fire her too. She didn't need money. She had amassed a fortune during her prior ten years as an actress. She wanted to work.

Finally, in desperation, she called her father. He was a big shot producer with a major TV network. She had not wanted to enlist his aid because she wanted to do it all on her own. Also, she didn't get along very well with him. She hadn't even seen him in two years. 

"Daddy, I need your help," she said quietly into the phone.

"What can I do for you Debbi?"

"I can't seem to get a job in this town without becoming somebody's slut!"

"I warned you about Hollywood. Why don't you just take your money and retire?"

"Daddy I'm only eighteen. Decent people don't retire at eighteen. I want to work."

"Okay, hang in there for a little while and I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, daddy."

Debbi Dean called her new agent and fired her. Why take chances? Three weeks later, her daddy called her.

"Honey, I may have a part for you. Can you come to my office? I'll have a gate pass for you."

"Yes, daddy, thank you."

Debbi arrived at the lot and parked in a visitor's space. She took the elevator up to the second floor and walked into daddy's office.

"Hi, baby!" He greeted her.

"Hi daddy. What do you have?"

"I've got a small part in Spain. You would be a model and half the cast would be chasing you."

"Okay. When does it start?"

"Next month. We'll get your passport, visa and shots. Be back here tomorrow at eight in the morning. Now I'll take you to lunch."

"Yes daddy."

The limo swept them away from the lot and downtown to a very posh restaurant. He was greeted warmly by the staff and escorted to a prime seat by the window. Debbi was impressed with they way that he treated the restaurant staff. She didn't remember daddy being this nice to anyone. She did remember how handsome he was. He looked like an actor. He smiled and held her hand across the table.

"I've missed you baby," he said.

"I miss you too daddy. About this job, do I have to audition? I'm tired of saying no and firing agents."

"I'm the only one you'll audition for and I'm sure you'll get the part."

"When is the audition?"

"It has already started. You can stay at the studio today and I'll take you to my house tonight and seal the deal," he smiled.

"Daddy, I may not act like it, but I do love you. You have never let me down."

"I love you too baby. Here's lunch."

She sat next to him in the limo as they drove back to the lot. He held her hand all the way. "Come on up to my office and I'll get someone to show you around."

She followed him to his office and sat in one of the big leather chairs. She closely watched him watching her. She knew she was beautiful and stacked. She was a honey blond, five feet three inches tall with very little body fat. She had nice thirty six C tits and a heart shaped butt. 

An assistant appeared and took her on a studio tour. None of it was new to her. She had, literally thousands of hours in studios like this one. They were back in her daddy's office at five o'clock.

"I'll be just a few more minutes and then we'll be on our way."

"What about my car?"

"You can pick it up later or wait until tomorrow."

Hmm. Tomorrow?

They got into the limo again and he took her hand again. She was starting to like it. He gently rubbed her palms and fingers as they zoomed down the road. She looked at him, but he was looking out the window, smiling. The limo took them to a big, big mansion in Bel Aire. "Goodnight Jeff," daddy said to the limo driver and it sped away into the California evening.

"Daddy, how can I get my car? You dismissed the limo driver."

"I've got a couple of cars of my own. I can take you back or you can spend the night. I've got fifteen spare bedrooms."

They sat in the dark by the pool sipping their drinks. "Too bad you don't have a suit," he remarked.

"Yeah, too bad. I could always skinny dip," she giggled.

"No, no. You could give this old man a heart attack!"

"Oh, you're not so old. Besides, I'm your daughter. I'm sure you've seen me in the altogether many times."

"Well, yeah, but you were just a kid then. Now you are a full grown voluptuous woman with all the right equipment."

"Gee, daddy, are you saying you think I'm hot?"

"You know you are hot. You also know you are teasing me. That's a dangerous thing to do to your producer."

"Why daddy, I'm shocked! You wouldn't, would you?"

"If you weren't my daughter, I'd have you stretched out right now gnawing on your pussy."

Debbi's pussy was wet. She suddenly realized that she was getting hot thinking about her daddy. Being an adventurous soul, she remarked, "Well if you want it so bad, why don't you come get it?"

Quick as a cat he was out of his lounger and on top of her. "If you don't mean it, now's the time to stop. In a few minutes, I won't be able to."

"I don't want to stop daddy. I want you. I want you now!" She pulled his lips into hers and jammed her tongue into his mouth. She felt his hands unfastening her dress as he sucked her tongue. She could feel all the little bumps on his tongue as he massaged her mouth. Her hand drifted down to his crotch and seized his cock. He moaned and removed her bra and panties.

She howled like an animal as his lips dropped to her dripping pussy and he started sucking on her vagina. He played with her labia with his tongue. Her hips jumped off the lounger when his lips found her clit. "Take me to bed," she cried.

He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom. He removed all of his clothing. As his boxers dropped, she gasped. She had never seen a cock of that size. She reached out and grabbed it, dragging it to her lips. She kissed the head and stuck her tongue into the little hole. She knew that she would never get the whole thing in her mouth, but she gave it a try anyway. She managed half of it before it hit her gag center. Her throat contracted around it and daddy yelled, "Jesus Christ, don't stop!"

She took it out of her mouth. "Put it in me daddy, please, please."

She felt the big blunt head at her entrance. He pressed it into her and she moaned, "Oh yeah."

His cock just kept going deeper and deeper. She had never had anything this far into her. "Fuck me daddy, fuck me hard!" she begged.

With each stroke he got a little deeper. She felt his pubic bone crash into her clit. She came immediately, quivering and shaking. Her passion drove her on to greater lust and she was thrusting into him as hard as she could. Her cunt clamped down on his throbbing cock again and this time as she screamed her release, she felt his hot seed squirting deep into her cunt. He was stiff as a board on top of her bucking mightily as he kept cumming. She had never been this full.

He rolled over and hugged her into him. It was hard to tell where she ended and he started. She was throbbing and crying softly into his chest. "Oh, daddy, that was so good. Fuck Spain! I want to stay with you!"

"I have been hoping that you would do that for years," he said. "We'll move you in tomorrow."

"Does that mean I flunked the audition daddy?"

"No, it means you've won my soul!" 



Audition



The door bore only the title: T.P AUDITIONS: MODELS SIGN UP stencilled on it. The couple paused to glance at each other, both of them swelling with anticipation before they knocked on the door and a voice inside told them to come in.

A handsome black man wearing a turtleneck sweater and black pair of jeans sat on the other side of a table. His name was Byron, and today he was stuck with procuring fresh, pretty models for upcoming Tongue Patrol projects. His table was laden with snapshots and contact info on numerous models desiring to come onboard. The lady entering his office with her boyfriend in tow was one of such models whom he'd invited over for an interview.

"Hi there," he got up and shook hands with both of them, focusing his attention on the lady. "You must be Cathy, right? A pleasure to meet you."

She smiled. "Yes, that's me. This here is Andrew," she introduced her boyfriend to Byron who mentioned to him who he was before telling them to sit down. He got down to business after that.

"So Andrew, I take it that Cathy has already briefed you into her reason for being here, right?" Andrew grinned: "Yes, she has. I also thought I'd come along, just so she'd how much I totally support what she wants to go into."

Cathy's eyes at that moment did an unobtrusive three-sixty in their sockets as if wanting to say: support me? Yeah right. Byron did see the look and knew what it meant but didn't give any hint he'd noticed. It wasn't the first time he'd seen such. A lot of wannabe models, from past experience, despise coming in here with their men in tow -- the air usually becomes a little tense and the ladies all sort of cease being relaxed ... being comfortable for the interview, and a lot of the guys too are complete morons, the type who'd trail alongside their woman to the beauty salon and even the ladies room if they could. Byron couldn't help but feel sorry for them ...just like this clown here.

The chick was without a doubt a hottie -- that you could easily tell: low-cropped red hair, full lips, long pair of legs and slender frame with standing tits; her top was a bit revealing to show that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her man looked nothing more than a typical average Joe: funny looking t-shirt, jeans and timberlands -- looked like someone who'd just stepped out of last year's Sears & Roebuck catalogue. 

"I was just looking through her photos of her," Byron said. "She's obviously the type of model we're looking for. Very lovely shots they are."

"Yeah," Andrew gloated. "I took them myself."

"Is that so? You ought to go into photography. The snapshots are very okay. However I hope both of you are aware that it's for an adult material? Good." He then said to Cathy: "Perhaps you wouldn't mind taking off your clothes and just show me a sample of your hot body."

"Sure, why not." Cathy got up and stood slightly away from them and began to undress. She took her gentle time, turning around to present Byron with what she had underneath. First off was her top -- she wasn't wearing any bra, as Byron had already noticed -- then unbuckled her belt and pulled down her jeans. Byron complimented her ass which was well curved and fleshy; just the right type of ass that would feel good getting slammed by a black dick, he thought to himself. She played with her tits, made her nipples stand erect, and did a pirouette, totally enjoying herself. 

Byron told her she had herself figure. Cathy said thanks, wore her clothes back on and returned to her chair just when her boyfriend inquired as to what sort of feature she would be in. 

"It's going to be an interracial, with lots of sex scenes thrown in the mix," Byron answered. He took out a DVD case from inside a drawer and gave it to both of them to see. The title of the case said: Tongue Patrol White Chicks #5. "We'll be filming the sixth edition two weeks from now, and so we'd like to --"

"Hell no," Andrew said suddenly, dropping the case on the desk and rising to his feet; he was no longer smiling. "I'm sorry but I'm not into any interracial stuff, and I know Cathy wouldn't be interested either. I'm sorry."

Cathy looked at her boyfriend with shock and anger. "Andy, what --"

"Trust me Cathy, it's for your own good." He turned to Byron, looking apologetic. "Look man ... I don't have anything against blacks -- I really don't -- I'm just not into anything interracial, that's all. That's just the way it is." 

An awkward moment passed through the room and for almost five seconds, neither person said anything. Byron was taken aback by his statement, but it was a good thing his demeanour remained unfazed.

"Well, I'm sorry you both feel that way," he said, and thanked the both of them for dropping by.

The couple said their goodbyes and then left his office. Byron muttered under his breath "fucking asshole," then erased them from his mind. A couple of seconds later there was a knock on his door. Before he could respond, it came open and Cathy rushed in. 

"Look, I'm really sorry for what my boyfriend just did -- he can be a real jerk sometimes. I told him that I wanted to use the rest room so he doesn't know I'm here." She picked up a pen and quickly scribbled out her address and home number for him. "Call me tomorrow, preferably early afternoon."

"Alright, cool. I'll give you a shout-out later."

"Okay. Bye." She flashed him a smile before disappearing out his office.

Now that's one smart white gal, Byron smiled, pocketing the paper with her address on it.

The house was easy to find. It was a little past one in the afternoon. Byron had called half an hour ago to inform her he was on the way; she said she'd be expecting him. His hand was just about to reach for the door bell when the door came open and there she stood, wearing a tank top and pink shorts with her long sexy legs jutting from it, smiling at him.

"Hi," she said. "I was so glad you called to say you were coming."

"Well, you told me to drop by, and that's what I did," Byron said as she invited him inside.

The door had barely closed behind him when she jumped into his arms and began smothering him with kisses. Byron was startled only for about a second or two before he immediately caught on. His lips engulfed hers in a kiss while his hands rubbed against her back; their tongue danced and fluttered against each other's. Byron had to rest his back against the wall just to support her; she was practically sucking the air off his lungs.

"So," Byron tried freeing his lips to speak even as her hands were still groping against him. "Where's Andrew?"

"Never mind about him -- he's such an asshole." She resumed kissing him, and then candidly said: "Right now I want to get fucked."

"For real? That's what you really want?"

"Oh yeah," she licked her lips. "I want a whole black cock in me, and I don't care if he comes and sees us." 

She turned and led him further into the living room. She pushed him down on a sofa, knelt before him and began unzipping his pants. His cock shot out from within his boxers; she grasped it in her hand, feeling its thickness and gently stroked it to full erection. She licked her tongue around the mushroom head of his cock, relishing the taste.

"This is what your man's scared of," Byron said.

Cathy kissed the tip of his cock, tasting tiny drops of pre-cum, before opening her mouth to take him in. Byron's cock was quite big and he kept pressing her head down on him, making her gag as she took the length of his cock deep into her throat. Such a gleeful sight it was, watching her red head bob up and down on him, her mouth lathering saliva up and down his tool. Byron took his shaft in his hand and waved it a few inches before her face. Cathy's mouth followed it like a magnet, trying to recapture it. Byron teased her some more, making her beg for it, before letting her have it back in her mouth. 

"Yeah, you're a real slut, aren't you? You better choke down on that cock, you hear me? You better choke on it or you're never going to be in that movie. You want to be in my movie?"

She looked up with hungry eyes and moaned: "Yes, I want to ...more than anything."

"I'll bet you can't wait to get that cock of mine into your pussy, can you?"

"No, I can't."

Byron told her to get up and take her clothes off. Cathy did as told, and then assisted pulling Byron's pants off his legs as he took off his shirt. He pulled her towards him and made her mount his cock, pushing it all the way into her pussy. Cathy's body tensed up and she screamed out from the impact. She held unto him tight for a moment, feeling a huge spark of electricity travel all over her body, before slowly coming to grips with it. Byron though didn't give her enough time for that. He lounged backward on the couch, gripped her round fleshy ass and began bouncing it up and down his cock. Cathy felt the tip of his shaft pushing through her abdomen all the way to her heart; the feeling was exhilarating and painful, she couldn't stem down her moans.

"Fuck me ... Oh fuck me! Go ahead, fuck me with your black cock!"

Byron went on fucking her hard and real good; her ass went up and down his dick like she couldn't get enough pounding. Just when they'd settled unto a rhythm, he lifted her up from couch, his hands gripping her ass underneath, and went on fucking her in mid-air, her screaming out in his ear as his thighs slapped repeatedly against her bottom.

"Which way is the bedroom?" Byron asked, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Cathy pointed the way and with Byron still holding unto her, they headed towards the direction of the bedroom.

Byron dumped her on the bed, gave her his cock to suck on for a while. 

"Yeah, that's it. Suck my dick like the slut you are. Ohh girl ... Oh, you're such a nasty slut ... such a cute, nasty slut that you are. Soon, I'm gonna give you all the black dicks your cute ass can handle."

Cathy loved the sound of his voice calling her names; it made her suck him more and more. She loved fucking and getting fucked back well and hard. She especially loved it even more when she got treated like a slut; it's too bad Andrew could never fully understand or even keep up halfway with her sex life. Often he found it too crude when she wanted him to treat her bad, which was why she preferred being fucked by other men rather than just him. Except from now on, he was going to have to deal with her getting off black from now on. 

Byron took back his cock once again and turned her over to be on all fours. Her brought her close to the bed's edge and she replied by wiggling her ass before his cock, teasing him with her wet, hungry-looking pussy. 

She looked at him from behind her shoulder and groaned. "Go ahead and shove that black cock in me."

Byron did as was told. He pressed her down on the bed, held her by her waist and went on firing and pumping his cock in and out of her. Cathy bit down on the bed sheet while she cried and moaned through her teeth. He gripped her by the waist and went on thrusting his cock in and out of her hard; he loved the sight of his black member disappearing in and out of her cute bunny white ass. It was so exciting and before he knew it, he too was gasping for breath almost the same as she was.

The fucking seemed to never want to end, but it eventually did as both of them climaxed together ten minutes later. They both fell on the bed, gasping heavily.

"My God," Cathy whispered. "I've never had it so good before."

"There's more of that where it came from," Byron laughed. "By the time I'm through with you, you're gonna become a star."

"Hmmm," Cathy kissed him and smiled, resting her head on his sweaty chest. "Sounds exciting. I just can't wait." 



Audition



I stepped off the bus double checking the address on the slip of paper I held in my hand. The small theatre I'd been told to arrive at appeared to be just around the corner. I was early yet, and decided to take advantage of the time walking into a nearby Starbucks ordering a coffee. While I sat sipping that, I checked myself out in a small mirror I kept in my purse. Taking a moment to run my fingers through my short dark hair, sassing it up just a bit. I likewise checked out my almost non-existent lipstick and makeup. The part I was auditioning for in the little known play, was for a lesbian, though in the beginning, she wasn't supposed to see herself as one, only mildly curious. I laughed to myself as I sat there staring at my reflection. The truth was...I was. When I'd gone in for my initial interview I had felt like the part fit me perfectly. And so had the assistant casting director after she'd looked me over and given me a small part to read.

It wasn't a big role by any means. I only had a few lines, and one semi-steamy scene where I'd been asked if I'd be comfortable exposing my breasts on stage briefly. I'd never done any kind of a nude scene before, even a brief one. Aside from a few provocative photos my ex-boyfriend had taken, that was pretty much the extent of my exhibitionist side. Needless to say, I was more than a bit nervous. 

In addition to my short sassy dark hair, which I didn't think looked too butch, and which the director didn't want either, the fact I also didn't have overly large breasts though I had certainly received several nice comments on them, and plenty of admiring looks from both men and women in the past. They were still pretty nice sized, without being too big. And interestingly enough, I hardly ever wore a bra as it was, most of the time enjoying the freedom of not having to do so. And besides, in the play I wouldn't be wearing one either, making it easier when the time came for me to simply reach down, pull my tee shirt over my head, turn...and then walk into the bedroom where it was hoped my new found girlfriend would then follow me. Her ex lover, supposedly there in the sitting room trying to entice the woman I'd just met into going back to her. Like I said, it was a small role with only a couple of lines.

I sat at the table sipping my coffee. "Well? Are you coming or not?" I looked at myself in the mirror, saying it again, a bit differently this time. "Well...are you...coming or not?" I didn't like that one, and said it again the way I had the first time. Not realizing another woman had taken a seat at the small table next to mine.

"Just say where and when!" I suddenly heard, turning. I blushed, realizing the slightly older, yet good-looking woman had heard me. I laughed, apologizing.

"I'm sorry...I didn't realize I was speaking so loudly," I informed her. "I'm ah...auditioning for a small part in a play," I further explained.

"Oh, I see...sorry to hear that, I hoped for a moment there, that you might actually be propositioning me," she laughed back, not at all being serious, though perhaps flirting a little. Which caught me off guard just a bit. I took those few moments to study her as she stood up taking her coffee with her, approaching me.

"May I?" She asked 

"Please do," I invited.

I noticed the woman was tall, had shoulder length strawberry colored hair that was lustrous and seemed to catch the morning sun just right, hinting at the various hues and streaks of differing colors in her hair. For a moment, it almost looked as though her hair was on fire, sitting next to the window the way she was with the sun shining through it. She had green, though perhaps more like hazel colored eyes, full sensual lips that were quite noticeable, especially when she smiled. She looked professional, business like, wearing a matching skirt and jacket, though I noticed her more than ample breasts seemed to be straining against the fairly sheer white blouse she had on beneath it. I could see the dainty lace pattern in the bra she was wearing, and for a split second in time as she took her seat, found myself actually wondering what her breasts might look like.

"My names Carol," she said introducing herself, extending her hand to me. "So...you're auditioning for a play are you?"

"Jessica," I responded back taking her hand shaking it. "And yes I am. Not a big part, only a small one. But hopefully if I land this part, maybe I'll get a chance at an even bigger one next time."

"So what's the part?" She asked taking an interest.

"Well, it's for the role of a young curious woman named Cindy. She's just met this lesbian in a bar, who has invited her to come home with her, which she does. Only she's never actually been with another woman before, but has decided she now wants to. Though she hasn't told the Rachel, the other character in the play, who's invited her to come home with her that fact either. Anyway, they arrive, there's a bit of kissing, some light petting, and then there's a knock on the door. The girl whose apartment it is naturally goes to it, and finds her ex-lover standing there. She comes in. There's a moment of indecision of course, this internal struggle as the ex-girl friend pleads with her to take her back. That sort of thing. That's when I make my own decision, finding this sudden threat to my very first opportunity to satisfy my curiosity about being with a woman. So I reach down, grab the hem of my tee shirt and pull it off, letting her see my breasts for a moment. I then turn, walk into her bedroom..."

"And that's when you say, "Well? Are you coming... or not?"

"Exactly!" I laughed hearing this mature, very attractive woman speaking the lines I'd meant to say. And saying them in exactly the way I now wished I had myself first spoken them. "Say that again," I said surprising her.

She smiled, sitting back in her chair looking at me. "Well? Are you coming...or not?" 

I liked how she said it. She'd paused just briefly, just enough, giving emphasis to the word 'coming' which hinted at a double meaning perhaps. Just hearing her say it the way she had, had sounded like she was asking about that, and not actually asking about if the woman was going to join her or not. But if she was going to cum with her or not. I liked it, and told her so.

"Well after what you told me...about the curious character Cindy? I think she sees this ex-lover as a real threat to her chance at finding out what it's like to make love to another woman. And given the situation, it appears this is her one shot at achieving that. She needs to express that ultimatum to the other woman, as though this is her one and only shot to enjoy that herself. So the question is then, does she? Or does she go running back to the ex-girlfriend, someone she's obviously already been with. Does she want to deal with whatever problems existed that separated the two of them in the first place? Or...does she look to the future for something new and different?"

"That's...that's it exactly!" I exclaimed grinning from ear to ear.

"So...how does it turn out?" Carol asked.

Once again I laughed. "I don't really know. I wasn't given a copy of the entire play to read yet, only this scene, as it's the only scene I'm auditioning for. So really...I don't have a clue."

She smiled finishing her coffee, and then looking at her wristwatch. "Well, I best be off. But good luck with your audition. And if I were you...I'd try reading it just that way. I think it has more of an impact for one thing, and certainly gets her point across quite clearly without coming right out and saying...I want to fuck you."

I think my mouth was hanging open when she said that. Reason being...if I didn't know any better, I could have sworn, she'd just told me...that she actually wanted to do just that. Fuck me! I sat looking at her for a moment more, just as she did. It was perhaps just a split second in total, but it was time enough for the hesitation on both of our parts to speak volumes. She then smiled again, turning. "Like I said...good luck."

I sat watching her through the window as she walked down the street. Which is also when I felt the moisture pooling between my legs, something I hadn't realized until that very moment.

"Damn! Double-damn!" I said to myself. Wishing now that I'd at least gotten her number, or given her mine. And then the more I sat there thinking about it, the more I realized it was probably wishful thinking on my part. I convinced myself that hadn't actually been a come on. In the first place, there was nothing about her that actually hinted at her being a lesbian herself. Not that she had any sort of look one way or the other, as many didn't, including myself.

But then again...I wasn't a lesbian either. I'd never even touched another woman before, though I had certainly thought about it. Still having a few more minutes, I collected myself, finished my coffee, silently spoke the line once more the way she'd said it. And then headed out onto the sidewalk myself. It was time to audition.

**

I was both surprised and disappointed upon entering the theater. The place was packed! Still standing outside in the foyer, I realized there must have been three dozen young women standing there, all auditioning for two very small parts. The only good thing was, each of them appeared and looked just as nervous as I did.

"Alright girls, listen up please?" Someone spoke, and then as we all turned facing to where the sound of the voice had come from, a woman perhaps in her mid thirties stood there holding onto some sort of a clipboard. "Today we're auditioning for the roles of Cindy, the pickup girl from the bar, and for the role of Danny, the ex-girlfriend. If you'll all follow me into the theatre, I would like all the Cindy's seated on the left side, and all the Danny's seated on the right side. We'll call you up in pairs and then walk through the scene a couple of times each. The first will be a simple practice and instruction, the second will be the audition itself. We will expect live action and performance, which for the Cindy's will include removal of your upper garments. So I do hope you have come prepared and are expecting to do that."

There was a bit of nervous chattering along with a few giggles as everyone filed into the small auditorium, the small un-set stage just beyond. I now recognized the woman who had just spoken to us as the woman I had first interviewed with. She now took a seat just in front of the stage along with an older man, and a slightly older looking woman, both of whom she briefly conferred with. She then walked up onto the stage carrying her clipboard, which she placed down on a small table. She then called out two names, one from each side who then walked up towards the stage as she briefly set and described the scene. I sat looking on, somewhat elated that I'd at least have this opportunity to see how the other girls spoke the part, how they looked, their facial expressions long before I hopefully had to do so.

I had even taken quite a bit of an unexpected interest when it came to the moment in the scene where the character Cindy removed the shirt she was wearing, thus exposing and revealing her breasts. Though most of the girls were indeed small busted, one or two had rather large sized breasts, and though interesting to see them admittedly, I felt like they were more of a deterrent to the scene being acted than actually adding to it. All you really did look at where the tits, not the woman, and certainly not to what she was saying when she spoke those all too familiar lines. 

"Well? Are you coming or not?"

**

Thirty minutes later after having seen several girls go up on stage and perform, Jessica was now having doubts about herself. She had seen several girls who she thought had done a very good job, not to mention having nice attractive bodies too, all of which had been a bit smaller in the bust, which she felt they were truly looking for. One young woman having amazing nipples, though whether those would be looked at as being attractive and adding to the part, or like the larger breasted women, being more of a detraction, she wasn't sure. Still...she now wondered if she truly had any real chance at all.

"Jessica Weatherly? Susan Johnston? You're next!"

It took a moment for me to realize that my name had actually been called, but then I did, jumping up from my seat, heading towards the stage. I felt like I had a stone the size of a basketball sitting in my gut, not to mention my throat suddenly being dry as the two of us now stood there, listening to Kathy describe for us the scene. Something we both of course already knew.

"Kathy? I think I'd like to do the scene with these girls myself this time."

Kathy, Susan and myself all turned as one towards the sound of the voice. Once again it took a moment, and then I gasped in surprise. It was Carol! The woman I had spoken with earlier inside Starbucks!

Kathy grinned turning back around facing the two of us, though announcing to everyone as she did. "Everyone? In case you don't know, or aren't aware of who she is...this is Carol May. She's the featured star of our little off Broadway play, as well as being a very well know, female producer and director. She is the first woman to actually produce erotic films designed especially for women."

I had heard the name, had in fact seen a couple of movies she'd produced, and had found them not pornographic at all, but very sensual, very erotic and very emotionally moving.

I stood in total disbelieve as Carol came up to stand between us, speaking to us momentarily. She looked at me only briefly, a small smile coming into her face.

"Ok, you already know your places...and your lines correct?"

All I could do was nod my head, still in a small state of shock here. 

"Good," she said once again turning towards me specifically. "Just say them the way I taught you to do earlier," she winked. Now I smiled though once again nodding my head. Susan walked over to the blue line that had been taped out on the floor, where the imaginary door was, me...taking my own mark a bit more centered on the stage, Carol now standing in front of me.

"Ok, let's pick up the scene where the two of you are holding one another, kissing and fondling each other just a little, swaying slightly to the music playing. There wasn't any music, that too was pretend, but Carol then took me into her arms, holding me, actually kissing me on the neck, gently swaying there with me for a moment. She then whispered. "Touch me...like it was for real."

I brought my hand up, cupping her soft yet firm breast. She had of course changed out of the clothes she'd been wearing earlier, now dressed more simply, yet even then smartly as I gingerly caressed her, kissing her back, tilting my head just a little as she mouthed my neck nipping at it gently. A flood of shivers now running up and down my spine, the feel of her hand now touching me, caressing my own breast through the thin layered material of the tee I was wearing.

"OK...knock! Knock!" Kathy announced loudly.

Moments later I was standing there looking at her, my line coming up. Reaching down now, pulling up my tee shirt removing it, standing there on stage, bare breasted, the thrill and excitement of doing so readily apparent. My nipples hard as rocks, though not so much from the sudden coolness of the air, as from the actual tingling arousal I was still feeling from the touch of her hand and fingers actually teasing it only moments ago.

I turned walking towards the red line, representing the bedroom, reaching it, turning looking back, and then said. "Well? Are you coming...or not?"

"And...cut!" Kathy announced standing. "Very nice, thank you..."

"One moment...I'd like to try something," Carol suddenly said surprising everyone. Though no one obviously dared make an issue out of it when she did. "I think I'd like to change the scene...just a little. Make it a bit more sensual, more provocative. And I think it will give the scene a bit more dramatic effect as well. Having Danny's character entering the apartment, using her own key in doing so as opposed to knocking and being invited in. She comes in...and there is Cindy, and Rachel, dancing and swaying together in the middle of the floor, just as we were doing, except...they are both topless, thus there is more intimacy already being expressed and shown. This then heightens the intensity and uncertainty of each one of the characters in a much more dramatically defined way. So...let's do it again, but this time, beginning with the two women having already removed their tops."

I hadn't even bothered putting mine back on yet when Kathy had called cut the first time. Carol now unbuttoned her blouse, and then her bra removing them both, tossing them off haphazardly towards where Kathy was standing. Once again Susan moved back to the blue tape on the floor, looking a touch bewildered, as Carol and I moved back out center stage. Once again she whispered to me before Kathy called action.

"Now you can really touch me," she grinned, this time leaning in to kiss me deeply as our mouths met, tongues already beginning to dance within one another's mouths, fingers and hands exploring, the hardness of her sweet tender nipple locked between my fingers as I cupped her breast, scissoring it between them.

"Ready? And then action!" Kathy spoke once again. As once again...we did the scene, only this time truly caressing, toying and kissing one another, all the way up through my line when I walked away, reaching the door turning back towards her.

"Well? Are you coming...or not?"

**

I had retaken my seat back in the audience after redressing again. Carol remained on stage of course, playing her own part intermixing with the last few girls still waiting their turns. Finally, everyone who'd come there to audition had done so. We all now sat as Carol who had put her blouse back on, though it remained unbuttoned, her beautiful breasts still partially showing, stood with Kathy and the older man and woman, all of which were no doubt voicing and expressing their opinions on who had won the parts. Minutes later they had come to a consensus as Kathy retook the stage.

"Before I announce who we've decided on, I just wanted to thank each and every one of you for taking the time out to come here and audition for us today. This wasn't an easy choice. We have a lot of fine young actors with amazing potential to be choosing from. However, I believe we have also made that choice. So, I'd like to announce the following. For the role of Danny? And the role of Cindy? Would Marsha Jensen, and Patricia Green stand up please?"

There were a few audible moans and groans, though a smattering of hands clapping in congratulations as well. Though not many. The two girls of course squealing in delight upon hearing their names. 

My heart sank. Though not too unexpectedly, both girls had indeed been very good, so I shouldn't have been too terribly surprised or upset. And yet, I was. Marsha? Patricia? You two will be the first under studies, in the event that the next two chosen actors cannot perform for any reason. Jessica Weatherly and Tracy Monroe...congratulations. You have been awarded the roles of Cindy and Rachel respectively.

One again I was stunned. I had heard my name, saw the knowing smile on Carol's face as she stood there looking at me, even as the first two girls names were called. 

"Thank you everyone for coming, and we do hope you will come and audition for us again sometime. As for Jessica? Tracy? Marsha and Patricia? If you could stay for a few moments please? We have a few details to go over with you, as well as getting you a complete copy of the entire play."

Carol walked over speaking to me briefly. "When you're done here...come see me in the back. I have a small little dressing room. I'd like to speak to you after you're finished here," she informed me, and with that leaned over giving me a quick brief kiss on the cheek.




Audition



My mind was a jumble of emotions for one thing. Elation, excitement, a bit of confusion still too perhaps. And then of course...curiosity. Why had Carol asked to see me, to speak with me again, unless it was simply to congratulate me, which I figured most likely. After being handed my copy of the entire play, and after Kathy had given us a rehearsal schedule, we were all then excused. I waited for a moment, allowing the others to wander off, leaving, before turning and heading back past the curtain where Kathy now stood holding it open for me.

"She's around back, in there," she grinned. "Congratulations by the way. I really am looking forward to working with you...as I know Carol is."

Just a short distance away I could see the door that Kathy had pointed towards. It had Carol's name on it, "Carol May". I knocked.

"Come in," she answered the moment I had. I opened it stepping in. She stood in front of the small dressing table, already uncorking a wine bottle. "It's not Champagne, but it is a very nice wine," she told me pouring a glass, handing it to me. "We'll save the bubbly after we've received our first reviews," she grinned clinking her glass against my own. She still hadn't bothered to button up her blouse as yet either. Her full beautiful breasts still peeking at me from beneath the partially folded material of her blouse. It took a moment for me to tear my eyes away from her, looking back up once again at her face. She finished her drink sitting it down, turned walking over to where I suddenly noticed a large couch was.

"Well, Are you coming...or not?"

I laughed then, as she did. Reaching down once more, yanking my tee shirt over my head, just as she stood slipping out of her own blouse allowing it to fall to the floor near her feet. I reached her in seconds, once again our mouths coming together, tongues fencing wildly, furiously. Her hands already fumbling with the button on my jeans, and then yanking down on the zipper as I too unzipped the skirt she was wearing, watching it fall down around where her blouse lay. She then pushed me against the wall, I felt her pinning my hands over my head. As she did, she bent down, kissing my neck, and then continuing to kiss further down as she held me. My head was spinning, my breath frantic, panting as I felt her lips first encircling one breast, and then the other.

"Do you remember what I said to you earlier?" She asked.

"Yes!" I moaned deeply, knowing the truth now.

"And what was that?" She asked, still kissing, still nipping my breasts, teasing my nipples with her mouth back and forth, back and forth.

"You said...you, you wanted to fuck me!" I groaned again as she finally released my hands, now pushing me turning me towards the couch, literally pushing me down on to it. She dropped to the floor in front of me, grabbing the bottoms of my jeans, yanking on them as my pants came off, and with them as though a magic act, the small bikini panties I had also been wearing.

"I still do. And you? Would you like to fuck me as well Jessica? Would you indeed like to find out what it's like making love to another woman? Fucking her? Tasting her cunt? While she in turn tastes yours?"

"Oh yes! Yes! Fuck yes!" I wailed as she finished pulling my jeans off entirely, now leaving me naked, just as she was.

Carol crawled on top of me, pinning me to the couch. Once again her hands taking mine, stretching them up and over my head, her mouth on my mouth, kissing, sucking my tongue. I could feel her breasts mashing into my own, nipple kissing nipple, digging into my flesh as she softly, yet heatedly used her own breasts in caressing mine with.

"Before I fuck you, I'm going to taste you," she said hotly. "You have been eaten before yes?"

"Yes..yes of course," I responded back, though my voice quivered excitedly as I did so.

"Just not by another woman before correct?"

"Correct," I responded back again finding it difficult to talk. Already I could feel the juices pooling inside my cunt, threatening to overflow, run down between my legs, that's how hot I really was.

"And you of course then...have never gone down on another woman's pussy then have you?"

"No...no, I haven't."

"But you want to."

"Yes...oh god yes, I do!"

"And you will, but like I said...not until I have shown you what it's like," she said now teasing me, once again kissing and sucking my breasts, one hand fondling, her mouth and lips sucking torturing the other. I was in heaven.

But I had no idea what heaven really was until she moved lower, only then her lips and mouth beginning to tickle and hint at the pleasures to come. I felt her tongue lightly dance between my lips, the moisture I'd already secreted now bathing her face. She mewled wantonly, licking, lapping, her tongue not yet seeking out, nor finding my clit. Both hands still upon my breasts as I placed mine over them, enjoying the tender feel of her caress, pinching and pulling now on my own supersensitive nipples as she cupped my breasts, holding them for me, still kneading them like a contented cat.

And then her lips found my sweet center. I felt her tongue lash out rapidly, yet softly...almost fleetingly against my clit. I felt dizzy, even more light headed than I had ever felt before, just as the pressure increased, as her fingers now joined, seeking the depths of my soul, fingering the erotic juices that now poured from within me like a molten volcano.

I couldn't help but thrash wildly beneath her, the intensity of what she was doing to me driving me nearly mad with lust and desire for her.

"Come for me baby...come for me. Let me taste that sweet honey nectar, even more so than what I already am," she purred once again lapping away, now fingering, thrusting and finding my "G" spot, triggering what I knew was going to be one of the most intense orgasms of my entire life.

I had no idea. When I came, it was beyond anything I had ever felt ever experienced before. My mind went numb with the sheer pleasure of it, pure bliss. And even as I came, continued to cum, she moved up once again towards me. I felt her slide beneath me, one leg over mine, the other under. And then in seconds, the press of her equally bare cunt kissing mine. I felt her press, pressing back. Orgasm still claiming me as another washed over me. I fucked her, she fucked me back. Pussy to pussy, kissing like two mouths, clits rubbing, juices spurting from each one of us. I had never done that before...and now was. Just as she was. I felt her squirt, felt the fine misty spray of her delicious spending bathing me, just as I now was doing to her.

And then as one, we slowed, still moving, still thrusting though ever so slowly...so gently, gradually coming down.

"Holy fucking shit!"

She laughed, still moving against me. "You liked that huh? Liked getting fucked by a woman?"

"Oh yes! God yes!" I said once again moving against her, hearing the sounds of two very wet, two very delicious sweet smelling cunts as they continued to kiss, to press, to devour one another.

"So...think this will help with your performance now? Knowing what it's like? What it really feels like? Being with another woman now?"

I slid out from beneath her, now pressing her back, slithering down her beautiful body, kissing and now sucking her breasts, working my way down lower still.

"Perhaps not entirely yet," I moaned softly, licking her for the first time. "But I'm certainly willing to rehearse until I do, especially now that I have the part."

"You do that baby...you certainly do. And I certainly am...coming for you. Again."

And she did too.

-End-



Audition For A Porn Film



Whenever I masturbate, I always think about the time I went to audition for a porno film. I had gone to other auditions, and they generally ended the same way—whether it was in an office or in someone’s house. I’d be asked to strip, show it hard and spread my ass cheeks. I would pose, and then the photographer would watch me blow myself, or maybe he would fuck me. Sometimes I’d be asked to “perform” on another model. 

I liked to work out and swim a lot, so my body was slim, tight and hard as a rock. Living in Southern California, I loved to go to secluded beaches and sunbath in the nude, so I had a deep, dark tan all over. Being very proud of my appearance, I took advantage of every opportunity to show off as much of it as was possible. This one time, though, was different. I called the guy who had advertised, and went to his apartment on the first floor of a building in downtown Los Angeles. One guy there was about 5’9”, well built, muscular and about 20 years old. He answered the door, when I arrived and told me to sit and wait ‘til I was called, in the living room. (I could hear him tell some guys that he never expected so many people to answer the ad.) I overheard him telling the group, in the next room that they had to get the models hard, take a few pictures and then pay the models for about 15 minutes of work. (The ad had read something like $25 an hour.)

Soon, a shorter 23-year-old came into the room I was in. He had a tight, swimmers’ build and curly black hair. He told me to undress and come into the light where there was a chair. The taller guy told me to lean against the chair and spread my legs so that everyone in the room could see everything I had. He told everyone that I had modeled before, and asked if someone wanted to get me hard. The shorter, “swimmer” came over and grabbed my cock. He started stroking it until I was so hot I was in a frenzy. I was as hard as I think I’ve ever been! Everyone in the room was staring at me. 

I was super hot, by this time. The photographer told me to spread my legs more, and to lean back. As he was taking the pictures, he told me to get myself off. The other people in the room were “screaming” for me to cum for them! I panted that I couldn’t hold back any more and shot my hot juices all over myself and the room around me. After the photographer got his pictures of me cumming, he told me to turn around and to fuck myself with my fingers. While he was shooting pictures of this, he was ordering me to strike different poses so that he could catch all of the action—as I started to get hot once again. 

He told me to take my free hand and to slowly stroke my now hardening cock. I was so hot that I kept rubbing my hands all over my body, pinching my tits, rubbing my balls and stroking my now super hard cock. As the photographer shot pictures of all of this I was on the brink of exploding, once again. I fingered my ass and stroked my hot cock. The group cheered me on. Beads of sweat were rolling from every inch of my writhing body. I never thought that I could get so turned on “performing” for a group of people! Finally, when I couldn’t hold back any more I came for what seemed like hours. Exhausted, I dropped to the floor; panting and writhing in ecstasy. The other guys in the room got up and came over to me and began to gently caress every inch of my body. Gradually, they all stripped naked. Not one of them was less than a tight, muscle stud. All in their early twenties and all of them as hot as I had been not 5 minutes earlier. They all wanted me.............. There were 6 hot studs, ranging from the slender Chris Atkins type to the tough, bearded leather type. All had well defined, muscled bodies and dark California tans. All were hot for a piece of me. Once again I found myself getting uncontrollably hot. These guys knew just what it takes to get me off. Paying attention to only me, they worked over every inch of my throbbing body using every inch of theirs in return. I felt my legs being lifted high into the air and the bearded hunk began to probe my begging ass with his huge man-tool. Another began to tempt my waiting lips with his. The others worked on me with their agile hands and tongues. I was in heaven! 

I was now being fucked from both ends and my whole body seemed to be fucking them right back. With one, singular motion I was becoming one with this mass of man-flesh which was using me, totally, in the best of ways. As I felt myself getting to the point of cumming again, the bearded hunk began to fill my ass with his love juices. That set me off. As soon as I started to cum, the beautiful young beach boy who had my throat filled, came and filled my gut with his sweet cum. At the moment that I thought I had reached the highest high possible, the others began to cum all over me. I’ve never felt so hot in all of my life.

Soon after, we all collapsed entwined in each other’s flesh and drifted off into dreamland. I awakened several hours later, to find that all of my he-men had departed; leaving me alone—with the exception of a small hand scrawled note. It simply said,

“Friday—

10:00 PM—

10058 North Malibu Drive.”



Audition Preparation



WARNING: 

This is an adult story, containing sensitive material of a sexual nature, including graphic descriptions of consensual, "vanilla" sex. If you find such material offensive or are underage, do not read further, but please bypass this story for one more suitable for you. 

This is a work of fiction: it never happened. The young girl in the story doesn't exist, but the descriptions reflect fantasies concerning people I have known. This story is written for enjoyment and entertainment purposes only, and no commercial profit is expected to be made from it. It may be copied for personal use or for posting on other sites, provided the sites are free sites . . . it may NOT be posted on any site that requires a "membership fee" of any kind. Posting is permitted on sites where 'adult verification services' are used, provided they only cost a few dollars a year for access to many sites, (the way Adultcheck used to be), but posting is prohibited on any "Adultcheck Gold" site, which requires much more money.

Perhaps this story should be classified as a 'novella'. It is not simply a two page 'fuck-'em and forget-'em' story, but makes an attempt to create a mood and to develop some of the characters, and possibly even (gasp) have a bit of a plot.

Birth control is used in this story, because in 'real life' every reasonable adult should know that he or she should behave responsibly when participating in sexual activities and he or she wishes to avoid unwanted conception and the spread of disease. 

You are encouraged to vote. Fives are always best!

Feedback is welcome and accepted at the link below.

Chapter 1. Sari’s problem.

With some satisfaction, the Amonasro-Aida duet came to its incomplete end, and I paused to lean back from the keyboard of my piano and to take a breather before Radames made his entrance. I stood, flexing my fingers and stretching my back, then went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Practicing an operatic score on the piano for six to eight hours a day was tiring, but much of the score to AIDA was gradually 'working it's way into my fingers'.

I looked out of the living room window at the crowds swirling along Eight Street below. Early Saturday evening in Greenwich Village always provided a pleasant spectacle as tourists, natives, artists, and bums all rubbed shoulders on the busy sidewalks below. Summer was rapidly approaching and the warmth of today would quickly become tomorrow's oven. I would have to leave the window open then, and out of respect for my neighbors, I might not be able to spend so many hours practicing with the window open.

The pangs in my stomach reminded me that it was suppertime.

There was a tap at the door. It must be Sari (She pronounced it "Shah' - ree") I reflected. She always waited until I had paused in my playing before she would timidly tap on the door. I checked through the peephole before opening the door and greeting her with a big smile.

"I picked up some Chinese," she explained, holding up a brown paper bag. "Are you hungry?"

"Ummmmmm, I sure am," I responded, inviting her in. Passing by me, I caught the scent of fresh soap, shampoo, and - - - Channel No. 5? Soap and Shampoo I could understand, but somehow she always seemed too innocent for things like Channel perfume. She took the bag directly to the table. To my surprise, she had a bottle of wine also. As I closed and locked the door behind her, she went to the cupboard for plates, spoons and chopsticks. She looked in other cupboards while I began unpacking the containers of Chinese food.

"You have some wine glasses, don't you?"

"Yes, to the left of the sink." I pointed, and a moment later she returned and set the table. Like many dancers, she wore tights and a loose sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail.

While I poured the wine (I noticed it was a better vintage than I usually purchase), she sat and removed the rubber band allowing her hair to fall loosely over her shoulders. We ate quietly. She was in a pensive mood tonight and ate lightly. 

I was surprised as Sari swallowed the last of her wine and refilled her glass. It was unusual for her to have more than half a glass of wine and I had never seen her take a second glass before.

"Frau Schmidt talked to me today," she said, taking her glass and moving to the sofa in the living room.

"Umm-mmm," I responded, sitting on the other end of the sofa.

"They're setting up the cast for the NUTCRACKER benefit in August. Frau Schmidt said I am being considered for the BALLERINA DOLL role."

"Is that the one where the girl . . . ." Unable to phrase it properly, I twirled my index finger in the air as if I were using it to stir a cup of coffee. Sari nodded. 

"Yep!" she smiled smugly. "I get to do forty-two pirouettes without a break."

I reflected for a moment. "Is - - - - ummmm - - - - Who will be directing the production?"

She looked at me and didn't answer. There was such a sad look in her eyes.

"Is it - - - - HIM - - -?"

Sari nodded and her head drooped.

We were referring to a man who had been a star at the ballet company with every expectation of becoming one of the greatest dancers of all time. But a few years ago, he was in an accident and sustained injuries prevented him from ever dancing again. Now he walked with a cane, and directed ballets for the company. He was a brilliant, if cynical, choreographer. It would be an excellent career move for Sari to dance under his direction. But it was also rumored that he had a taste for young dancers, and liked give chorus girls a special private 'audition' before he promoted them to featured roles.

Seeing her dejection, I became uncomfortable and started squirming in my chair. "Is he - - -", I fumbled. "Does he want - - -" 

I shouldn't even be thinking about asking this! 

"Are you going to have to audition for him privately?" I finally asked, unable to think of a more delicate way of phrasing my question.

"Frau Schmidt said he would probably want to see me early next week, and I should be prepared."

"Look," I began. "I know there are rumors about him, but you don't KNOW whether or not they are true. Maybe the rumors are all overblown and maybe he's a really decent person who casts his productions based on dancers dancing abilities. Maybe the other rumors simply aren't true."

"Maybe," Sari admitted, "but Frau Schmidt asked me if I was a virgin."

My eyes widened.

"I don't think she likes what he does. But there's nothing she can do about it."

"What did you tell her?" I asked astonished.

"I didn't answer her. She said she hoped I wasn't, because it would be easer on me if I weren't." I tear rolled down her cheek and she began to tremble. I moved next to her and put my arm around her, and she hugged me, pressing her face into my shoulder and began crying. This should have been one of the most glorious celebrations of her young life, but here she was, crying in my arms. I held her as her shoulders shook and her tears spent themselves. Soon the paroxysms passed, and she pulled a tissue from a box on the end table to dry her eyes and blow her nose.

"I guess I should have expected it,' she reflected. "There are always stories around about 'the casting couch'. I always thought they were exaggerations. Apparently in this case, they are not." She began to weep again, and I held her until her tears spent themselves. 

Chapter 2 - "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Gradually she recomposed herself and moved away from me to get another tissue. I didn't know what to say. Finally I posed the standard question.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Again, her head dropped, almost as if I had struck her. I saw her lips tighten and she examined the tissue in her hand. Then, making a resolution, she straightened her back looking forward. She looked like a dancer again.

"Yes, there is," she responded. "That is, if you are willing."

"Anything!" I assured her. She looked at me and gave me an appreciative smile.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I had known Sari for a little less than a year, ever since she had moved into my apartment building. She had been accepted in the apprenticeship program at a major ballet company in town. She lived and dreamed of the ballet. She had been the only 'apprentice' who had graduated to the chorus when the apprenticeship program ended, and this would be her first opportunity to move out of the chorus and into an actual role. It would mean her name would appear in the program and if she did well, she might start moving to bigger roles.

I had helped her move boxes into her apartment when she first arrived and we had became good, if casual, friends during the past year. The first thing I noticed about her was her radiant smile, which she gave occasionally. She had introduced me to her parents when they were in town. 

She didn't own a TV set, so if there was a ballet on TV, she would ask if she could watch it on mine, and we would generally enjoy the show together. Sometimes we would have dinner together, usually takeout or Chinese, and for her birthday, I had bought two tickets to the ballet. When I asked her to go to the ballet with me, she had been so excited she had thrown her arms around me and kissed my cheek. Then suddenly self conscious, she had backed off. That had been the only time she had kissed me.

Once or twice a week, we would spend an hour or so together just talking, maybe sipping a glass of wine. We had shared our adventures and disappointments with each other, and I really enjoyed her company. We each had a key to the other's apartment, for emergency use, but she had never used my key and I had only used her key once. Romance had never entered the picture, although our relationship generally included a ‘goodnight hug’ at the end of an evening. And, to be sure, I had had a few fantasies about her glorious smile and her tight dancer's body.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Sari discarded the tissue and took a new one, which she began twisting in her hand. "I've been in this city for almost a year," she began. "My whole life has been the ballet. It's my dream, and I hope my destiny. As you know, a dancer's life expectancy is only about ten years . . . and a dancer has to take whatever opportunities she

can to move ahead." 

I was uncomfortable. It sounded like she was planning to go to bed with the director, and possibly try to sleep her way to the top if she could. Somehow, this seemed absolutely foreign to the morality of the girl that I knew.

She hesitated before continuing. "I wouldn't tell Frau Schmidt if I was a virgin." She turned to me and our eyes locked. "But I'll tell you."



We had never had a conversation like this before. I sat speechless.

"I am." Somehow I felt like her soul was speaking to my soul. "I've always been a dancer. I've never taken time for boys or romance. I was only interested in the dance. I've - - -" she stumbled as she tried to form the next sentence. "I've never even been touched by a man."

Having made this admission, she dropped her eyes. Then very timidly, she whispered, "Will you please hold me?"

I put my arm around her again and pressed her to me. She was trembling. "I'm scared to death!" she admitted.

I couldn't say anything. I just held her trembling frame in my arms and stroked her hair. Eventually, the trembling subsided and she began to relax.

"I've always thought I would save my virginity for my wedding night. Or at least for someone special." She whispered against my shoulder. "Whenever I talked to my mother, she always told me to 'keep pure in mind, spirit, and body'." 

I felt her back stiffen. With vehemence, she said. "I don't want to give it to HIM! I don't even LIKE him!" She started trembling again and began to cry again. When her tremors subsided, she sat up and, seeing my shirttail hanging lose, took the shirt tail to dry her eyes, looking at me as she did. We both laughed as she dried here eyes on my shirt. This was the type of casual familiarity that we shared that had made our friendship so special.

"So, what are you going to do?" I asked.

She took a deep breath and straightened her back again. "When I'm called, I'll go to the audition and I'll do whatever I have to do."

I dropped my eyes. I didn't like it. But I determined not to pass judgment on her. Then I spoke out. "I don't like the idea of your giving your virginity to a - - - a - - -", I couldn't find words to finish.

"Neither do I!" she responded. "And I hope I don't have to!"

I was confused. "Do you have a boyfriend? Maybe he can - - -". It pained me to even try to finish the sentence.

She shook her head. Our eyes met. My arm was still around her so her face was inches from mine. "You're the closest thing I have to a boyfriend." That was no help! She continued:

"I have saved myself for my husband. Or at least someone special. I only have a few days, but I want my first experience to be with someone who loves me and cares for me and cares about me- - - - someone I feel I can trust, who I'm safe with - - -" Her voice trailed off and she dropped her eyes. "- - - someone like - - - you!" She put her hand on my chest.

Was she saying what I thought she was saying? Impossible! 

"Will you?" she whispered. Her hand was trembling.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I know she felt safe with me, ever since I had saved her from the man she had picked up in a coffee shop in 'The Village'. Somehow he had gotten her to bring him to her apartment and had forced his way in and was attempting to take her against her will. 

Hearing the commotion in the hallway, I used the key I have for Sari's door to let myself in. When I had entered Sari's apartment, he had ripped her shirt open and was groping her, trying to find the crotch snaps to open her leotard. When I interrupted him, he left, and I had the unenviable task of drawing Sari back from near shock and intense panic. 

I had taken her to my apartment and fixed her a cup of cocoa. (She wouldn't let me out of her sight, and followed me like a puppy). She had calmed down as it got late, but she was still afraid to go back to her apartment or to be alone, so I had given her my bed, intending to sleep on the sofa myself. She was so afraid that she had me move to the floor next to the bed, and finally onto the bed with her, cradling her and rocking her until she fell into a fitful sleep. Whenever I tried to move away from her, she awoke in a panic and wouldn't let me go. Eventually, I simply spent the night there. 

The next morning I fed her breakfast and rode with her to her dance rehearsal. At the end of the day, I met her and we rode the subway back to our apartment building, where she had dinner in my apartment. We spent several evenings together talking through her experience until she finally was able to resume her normal schedule. 

Ever since then, she has always said that she always 'feels safe' when she is with me.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Will you?" she whispered again, her hand still trembling.

"Sari, you and I - - - " I stammered. "How can we - - - I - - - I - - - I don't know what to say."

Her eyes met mine again. 



Suddenly she was worried. "Don't you find me attractive? I thought you did!" She pulled away from me, worrying the tissue in her hands. "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking. Maybe I'm just being a silly fool - - - " 

She started to rise, but I grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Sari!" I pleaded. "Don't be upset with me. Don't be angry. You are probably the most desirable woman I know. There is absolutely no reason why I wouldn't want - - - I mean, it's not that I don't want - - - I mean I would - - - ." Nothing I tried to say was coming out right. "I - - - I - - - "

She turned to me again and searched my miserable eyes.

"Do you like me?" she asked.

I nodded.

She looked down at herself, and seeing the loose sweatshirt, she quickly grabbed the edge of the sweatshirt and pulled it up over her head. Underneath, she was wearing her regular uniform: a leotard and tights.

"Do you like the way I look?" I openly let my eyes survey her small mounds, probably an "A" cup at best, her trim waist, her narrow tight hips and muscular legs, and I allowed my eyes to linger on the 'v' where her legs joined her body. Everything about her seemed pure and virginal. Somehow, everything that was happening seemed in conflict with her innocence. I nodded again, and looked into her eyes. 

Her face was only inches from mine. She smiled a small smile. "Maybe you don't have to say anything. Just nod your head."

I hesitated. "Sari, I haven't even given her a proper kiss. - - - "

"You can do that now," she whispered and closed her eyes and raised her lips. Very slowly, I leaned into her and our lips met very softly. We held it gently for a long time. It was an innocent kiss. She brought her hand up to my face, as the kiss broke and pulled my cheek against hers. Neither of us moved, both enjoying the touch of the other.

"Will you?" she whispered in my ear. "Please?"

I nodded.

Chapter 3. an agreed upon solution.

Flustered with the commitment we had just made with each other, she didn't know what to do next. She quickly glanced at my bedroom door. "Do you want me to take off my clothes?" she asked, blushing.

I shook my head. "Not yet. Let's just talk for a while. And when the time comes, I'll take care of your clothes." 

A puzzled look passed over her face before her eyebrows raised a bit. "Oh!", and she blushed a deeper shade of red.

"Well, just in case you don't know," she started, "this leotard has three snaps down - - -" she started to point to the junction of her legs, but suddenly became embarrassed again. I nodded and she smiled appreciatively. "When they're unsnapped, the leotard comes off over the head."

I smiled at her and I turned her shoulders away from me and leaned her back against me. I leaned back into the sofa and cradled her in my arms. I could feel her tension and nervousness.

"Relax, Sari," I urged. "We're just going to talk for a while."

I started by asking her about the birds and the bees. She knew the basic biology from her High School biology class. But was very much in the dark when it came to the interactions and realities of men and women together. Years spent concentrating on dance and ignoring boys revealed an embarrassing neglect of knowledge of relationships. 

As we talked, she soon pulled away from me and sat on her knees facing me, asking question after question. She listened intently as I explained the woman's cycle to her, but she was unable to describe a normal cycle in herself. Like many athletic females, her constant physical training and low body fat had resulted in an irregular and infrequent menstrual cycle which was useless when it came to trying to estimate her fertile periods.

She was fascinated when I began discussing contraception with her and was visibly relieved when I volunteered that I would use protection. She knew some form of contraception would be necessary, but didn't have the foggiest idea of the mechanics involved. Since we wouldn't have time for her to obtain a diaphragm before her 'audition', I promised I would buy her some contraceptive foam the next day and would show her how to use it. She could apply it before her 'audition' to achieve some protection, but I suggested that she also ask him to use a condom, and warned her that some men will refuse this request. I also suggested that she have her own supply of condoms in case he didn't have any.

"Supply?" she asked. "Will I need more than one?"

"You might." 

"How many should I have?" she asked.

"At least six. And keep an extra six in your purse." Her eyes widened. I explained to her that a healthy man could climax several times in a night, and that six times seemed to be the limit for most men. In all probability, her 'audition' would not involve that many, but by having a dozen 'rubbers' in her purse, she would be ready for almost any contingency.




Audition Preparation



Finally, we discussed the sex act itself. We talked about intercourse, virginity, hymens, lubrication, orgasms, both male and female, clitoris, foreplay, breasts.

"If breasts are that important, will I be OK? My breasts are pretty small." 

"No, you'll be fine." 

"Does that mean that girls with bigger breasts will become more stimulated, and make better partners?

"No, just the opposite. Girls with big breasts, especially if they are pretty, tend to rely on their beauty and breast size, never developing their personality or responsiveness. They just lie there. On the other hand, girls who are not so pretty or who have small breasts, tend to work harder at being a good partner. Experienced

men would generally prefer a plain girl or one with smaller breasts, because they know this girl will tend to be better in bed.” 

We talked about intercourse and what leads up to it. Our discussion had been so open, that it seemed like she was treating me like 'one of the girls', freely sharing her experiences with me and gradually her questions become more personal and intimate. Her inexperience and innocence radiated from her fresh, shining, washed face. 

"When I kissed you a few minutes ago, why did it make me feel so funny?" "If sex takes place with the genital organs, why do people make such a big thing about the breasts?" "You mean a man would actually want to SUCK my nipples? That sound's disgusting!" "Do people actually do that?"

Finally there was a pause in our conversation. Sari asked, "We ARE going to have sex, aren't we?"

"I hope we'll do much more than have sex. I want to make love with you."

"Isn't it the same thing?"

"I hope not! Maybe the basic physical act is the same. But making love is a communion between two people who care for each other, who love each other. It's an expression of how they feel, of feeling, love, caring. It becomes a spiritual experience as well simply a physical act. It happens when people love each other deeply."

She thought for a while. "You just made me feel safe."

I nodded. 

She turned away from me and leaned against my chest. "You said that having sex - - - making love - - - started with foreplay - - - touching, feeling and petting."

Again, I nodded.

She haltingly asked, "Would you - - - put - - - your hand - - - on my - - - - breast?"

I kissed her cheek, and moved the hair behind her ear. My hand caressed her cheek, then slowly moved down between her breasts passing over her abdomen before it moved upward and gently cupped her. My other hand enclosed her other breast. She cringed as I touched her breasts, but then resolutely refused to move. If what she said was true, this may have been the first time a man had ever touched her breasts. 

Her breasts were small with delicious turned up nipples. I don't think she knew what they were for. She was so innocent, it probably never occurred to her that her breasts might be used for sexual gratification. I don't know if she had ever though anything about sexual gratification before tonight. 

Very gently, I rolled one nipple between my fingers and heard her gasp and moan in response. She began to squirm under my touch, and soon I moved one hand over her stomach to her lower mound. She shivered as my hand moved toward untouched and unexplored territory. I began massaging her gently, making no effort to touch her skin through the leotard or to penetrate her in any way. Simply a gentle massage that I knew would indirectly stimulate her clit.

"Mmmmmmmmm!" she moaned. "What's happening? What are you - - - doing - - - - --- - - - - - to - - - -mmmmmeee- - - - - -? Uuuhh - - - uuuhh ----- Oh! Oooohhh! - - -- - - - Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!"

Apparently she had never experienced a male induced orgasm before, so she had no idea how to resist it, or even if she wanted to resist it. All she could do was to react to the stimulation. Her hips were thrusting against my hand, and her woman's scent began to permeate the air. She rose to her climax very quickly, thrashing against me and clutching my hands, and finally collapsing, gasping, in my arms.

When her breathing began to return to normal, she asked again. "We ARE going to have sex, aren't we . . . . ."

Chapter 4 - Sari’s first time.

I cuddled her gently, whispering in her ear and holding her close to me as she came down from her high. She simply lay their, basking in the afterglow. I held her in my arms. 

Eventually, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Afterwards, she took her turn. I took advantage of her temporary absence to go to my bedroom and straighten out the bed, pull the covers down to the foot (leaving the sheets), and take a condom and a small towel from the nightstand drawer and put them under a pillow. I also took a small container of lubricant and put it in my breast pocket, so it could warm to body temperature. Then I returned to the living room. 

Sari stayed in the restroom for a long time.

When she came out, she had left her tights behind, and the crotch of her leotard had been left unsnapped. She stammered some words at me, and after some effort on my part, I realized that she was frightfully embarrassed because her tights - - - and her panties - - - had become wet. She had carefully washed herself before returning.

I folded her in my arms, and reminded her how the woman's body generates lubrication, and how it's part of the body's unconscious way of preparing for sex.

"Wet is good," I summarized. “And wetter is better!"

"When ARE going to have sex?" she asked again. Enough of talk! She wanted to get down to it! 

I put my arm around her and led her toward the bedroom. "It sounds like you're ready," I teased. 

“I thought I was ready when I knocked on your door tonight," she blushed, with downcast eyes. "But now I'm a lot more ready than I was then," she concluded squeezing me to her.

But her uncertainty was obvious as we entered the bedroom. I led her directly to the bed. The daylight outside was fading into evening, but with the ever present glow of Greenwich Village, the room would never be completely dark.

I could feel her beginning to tremble again as we sat on the edge of the bed.

"Do you want to continue?" I asked.

She nodded without looking at me. Then suddenly turning to me, she threw her arms around me and clutched me to her whispering, "Hold me close! Please hold me. Make me feel safe!"

I held her, and gradually we lay back on the bed and embraced each other tightly lying side-by-side. 

After a long pause, she took my hand and whispered to me, "I know I am safe with you. And that you would never hurt me . . . ." she started stammering, "I mean other than the pain . . . . I mean . . ."

My kiss quieted her disorientation and she relaxed in my arms and drew my hand to her breast, pressing my palm against her. Our kiss was languid and peaceful, and at the same time very exciting. It felt as if her kiss offered a complete surrender. I let my hand drop downward, and she gasped as I touched her through her panties. Although she was obviously growing excited, she stiffened as I found the waistband and slipped my hand inside. Her thighs were tightly clenched together, but reflexively she seemed to roll her hips toward my hand.

"Are you ready for me to continue?" I asked again. 

Her eyes were squinted shut, and her mouth was a tight line, but she nodded again.

I rose and lifted her hips as I slid her panties over her hips and down her legs, lifting her heels to complete their removal. I kissed my way back up her legs slowly, taking this activity as an opportunity to unbuckle and lower my pants. My kisses quickly passed over her womanhood, working upward over her quivering stomach, and pausing to worship her breasts. She shuddered as I nibbled at her nipples, and sucked a little through the leotard. 

Using this distraction, I rolled on the condom and applied a liberal dose of lubricant. I tried to press my knee between her legs, but her thighs were clamped so tightly together it would take the

Jaws of Life to open them.

"Sari. It's time."

I felt her tremble. "I know," she answered. "But I'm so frightened!

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid of the unknown, of not being sure what to expect. Of putting myself into someone else's control. I'm afraid it will hurt." Tears escaped her eyes, and I heard a single sob before she continued. 

"I've heard horror stories about girls feeling like they were being split in two or feeling like they were being stabbed with a knife. I know you won't hurt me any more than you have to. But I'm still terrified. Maybe this isn't a good idea after all!"

"Sari, let me help you. I'll make it as easy for you as I can," I whispered in her ear.

"Oh, please do!" she gasped back.

I sat up, kneeling on the bed, and lifted her to a kneeling position before me. Her eyes were steadfastly fixed on mine. Her refusal to drop her eyes and gaze at me was an extreme act of will on her part. I pulled her close to me until her breasts were pressing against my chest. With one hand under her bottom, I lifted her over my lap and her knees had to move to either side of my body, opening herself for me. Her arms moved around my shoulders pulling her upper body closer to me, even as she unconsciously drew her hips away from me when she felt me against her stomach. 

I kissed her mouth. Our tongues touched for a moment. "You're in control now. You can lower yourself onto me as quickly or slowly as you want. If it hurts, you can lift yourself off of me anytime you wish. You control everything now. 

"But, one thing, Sari. Hear me! I love you! And I want you!"

Sari, gazed at me lovingly. "Thank you for saying that!" She whispered. "And thank you for being so concerned with my fears." I felt her fear of the pain of her deflowering, but there was also a feeling of warmth and acceptance and love emanating from her. 

"Are you ready?"

"Yesss!" and she appeared to be bracing herself for what was coming.

Her arms braced on my shoulders, she lifted herself upwards, using a combination of her knees and her arms braced on my shoulders for support. My hand under her bottom guided her hips closer to my body, while my other hand guided my penis to her vaginal entrance. She gasped as she felt me touch the entrance of her womanhood and her innocent doe-like eyes widened in fear. But she eased herself downward and her lips gently parted before me. 

She managed a nervous little smile at me, and I nodded. Slowly, she lowered herself further downward. Still guiding my penis with my hand, I felt it began to move inside of her vagina, pushing her outer lips aside. She moaned and hesitated as the head started to slip past her inner lips. She lowered a little more and there was an intake of breath. She closed her eyes again.

"Just a little more," she whispered more to herself than to me, but she was afraid to proceed. 

"Go ahead," I urged, and she took a deep breath and held it before she eased off and pushed a little further.

She settled down and soon I was fully inside of her.

"Are you all the way in?" 

I nodded. "Are you OK?"

It was not what she had expected. She had heard horror stories from her girlfriends. But she had only felt a small twitch, and that may have been her own spasms. 

"It doesn't hurt. It didn't hurt me at all!" A worried look crossed her face. "Does that mean - - - -"

I pulled her closer to me, whispering "Shhhhh! That means that you have just given your virginity to me and it didn't hurt you. And that's all that it means!"

"I'm still afraid," she smiled nervously. She relaxed her arms and thighs and settled firmly on me.

"Do you want me to pull out?" I asked.

"No," was her immediate response. "Just hold me, please!"

I pressed her against me and held her firmly as she pressed her face against me. I held as still as I could, but it was a little awkward in the position I was in. 

"How do you feel?" I whispered into her ear.

I could envision her brows knitting in concentration. Then I felt the corners of her mouth turn up. "I feel stretched! And I feel full!"

She tentatively drew back and lifted herself upward for a few moments, before settling back down, impaling herself again on me. As she settled into place, she gave a moan that was somewhere between a sigh of contentment and a moan of worry. I remained still. She did it again, only this time she moved more. She began a slow, shallow rhythm. Her face was a mask of concentration, but I saw her eyes begin to relax and the corners of her mouth move upward with an expression of pleasure. Aside of the discomfort of the position I was maintaining, it felt great to me.

I pressed her chest against mine, and then I leaned backward, drawing her with me until we were both reclining, her on top of me. 

"Now, it's my turn to take charge." And I gently rolled the two of us over so that I was on top, still inside of her. I picked up her rhythm and began thrusting in her. And after a slight hesitation, her legs wrapped around me and she began moving her hips against mine. Soon we had developed a rhythm, but I quickly climaxed. She felt my spasms and saw the contortions on my face as I came, and she held me tightly to her as I collapsed on top of her.

As my breathing returned to normal, I whispered in her ear, "Well, you've done it! Yes, you certainly have done it!"

"Done what?" Sari asked.

"You've given your virginity to me. I hope that I'm 'someone special.' But, in any case, HE won't be the one to take your virginity."

"No he won’t! I'm so much happier that it was you!"

I moved off of her and slipped under the sheet and disposed of the condom. 

"Are you all right?" I asked again.



Sari thought for a moment, then nodded. "I feel a little sore, more like being stretched. But no real pain." She made no effort to move under the sheet with me. 

We talked about inconsequential things and held each other. As we held each other, my hands began to caress her more intimately. Eventually, my hand made its way under her leotard to her naked breast. She made no objection, and seemed to concentrate on the new sensations she was feeling. 

I lifted bottom of the leotard and after a bit of hesitation, she allowed me to pull it over her head and off of her arms. Immediately, she covered her breasts with her arms. I lay beside her and held her. 

"You don't have to hide from me," I whispered.

Glancing down at her bosom, she said with a tremulous voice, "They're not very big." Looking up at me she continued, "Does that bother you?"

Playing a game with her, I pretended to ponder. "Well, let's take a look and see." I moved her hands away from her bosom leaving her tiny breasts with their small, upturned nipples exposed. I pretended to examine them.

"They're 'turn-ups', I observed.

"Turnips?" she asked, looking down at herself. "Oh! 'turn-ups'!" Her eyes met mine. "Yes, I guess they are!" She looked downwards again. Then with a smile she asked, "Do you like 'turn-ups', even though they're rather small?"

Gazing into her eyes, I whispered, "I do, if they belong to you!" and I bent down to kiss her breasts. I paused between kisses to tell her, “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life!” 

I brought up a hand to support her breast as my kisses gradually covered her entire mound. She began to enjoy having a man's hand caress her naked body, and a man's mouth kissing her everywhere, and a man's lips gently sucking on her nipples.

Tentatively, she moved her hand under the sheet seeking me. I took her hand and kissed it, stopping her overtures, and asked that she wait until tomorrow before she tried to touch me or look at me. She was slightly confused, but immediately yielded to my request.

Contented, she lay back and basked in my touch. When I mounted her again, she hesitated as I entered her. Once she was satisfied that there would be no pain, she actively began to participate. Again, I came, leaving her unsatisfied, but she seemed content with the feeling of love she received and the knowledge that she had made love without discomfort.

As we basked drowsily in the afterglow, she asked if she could sleep with me tonight, and of course, I said yes. 

CHAPTER 5: The morning after

When we woke up the next morning. I held her close to me. Sari was somewhat self conscious, and very reserved and rather unresponsive. 

Finally, I broke the ice. I took her hand and kissed it and said, "Sari, we made love last night." Her complexion reddened at the open statement and her eyes dropped. "And I want you to know that I enjoyed it!" She looked at me. "I had a good time, and quite frankly, I love you more than I ever have."

"Really?" she questioned. "Do you think I'm a slut, just walking into here and - - - " She had trouble putting her feelings into words. "- - - and asking you to - - - to - - -"

I leaned to her and kissed her eyes. "Let's review what happened. You had a problem, something that caused you anguish and concern. You came to me and asked for help, and I helped." She dropped her eyes, flustered. Before she could organize her thoughts, I continued: "I admit, the help you needed was somewhat out of the ordinary. And it's certainly not something you find in the story of a classic ballet. But I'm your friend. You are safe with me." I knew the word 'safe' would push her buttons. Her eyes met mine again and I continued, "If you cannot come to your safe-haven to ask for any kind of help you need, what good is a friend?

"Oh, there is one more thing," I added. " 'Yes, I still respect you this morning!'" This last statement confused her. She stared at me until suddenly the memories connected and her eyes softened. She vocalized the classic question. "Will you - - -"

"- - -still respect me in the morning?" I joined and we finished the statement together, and she laughed.

After the laughter faded, she became somber and concerned again. "What must you think of me?" she asked. "I just walked into your apartment and - - - and - - - and asked you to climb into bed with me. What kind of girl does that?"

"A girl who needs very specific help. And a girl who went to the only person who she felt she could trust to talk about it."

"Yes, but asking a man to - - - to - - - I'm not even your girlfriend. We've never been romantic." Tears brimmed in her eyes and she looked away. "You've been so good to me. I always feel safe when I'm with you, and even safer when you hold me! I don't want to lose that! I don't want to lose what we have. What must you think of me? How must you feel about me?" She started sobbing.

"I love you." She paused in her sobbing, staring at me with tears running down her face.

"What?"

"I love you." I responded.

"You LOVE me?" she asked, incredulity in her voice.

"I love you!" I nodded. "I've been in love with you for months. I've spent hours thinking about you and fantasying about making love with you."

Her expression became puzzled. "You're in love with me?"

I nodded. 

"But you can't be!"

"Why not?"

"You never said anything. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because the love of your life was dancing. You never gave any thought to men or romance. You were only interested in dance," I quoted her own words back to her. "I respected your feelings, and wouldn't think about interfering with your priorities.

"And besides," I could feel sadness creeping into my voice. "Sometimes it's easier to live with hope than to have to face the reality of truth."

She thought for a while. "You just made me feel safe."

I nodded.

"Even though you know I'm getting ready to go to bed with another man?" she asked in amazement.

"That makes me sad," I admitted. "I'd rather have you just for myself. But to be brutally frank, it would take a lot more than that to make me stop loving you."




Audition Preparation



"You really love me?"

I nodded.

She dropped her eyes to her hands in her lap. "It's really humbling to have someone love me so much."

She cleared her throat, and glanced at me, before averting her eyes again. "I have to tell you something. - - - " She hesitated, almost as if she were afraid to say the words. "I think I'm in love with you, too.

"Last night, I was really scared! At least the first time." She smiled as she remembered the night before. "I was a little scared the second time, but you were so caring and loving, I really enjoyed it the second time. I loved being in your arms and . . . and having you. I was really sad at the thought that - - - that when the audition was over, we would be, too."

"I hope that we'll still be together after your 'audition'," I replied. 

"You do?" Her eyes had a look of unexpected hope.

I continued, "I look forward to a time when we will simply be in love and enjoy each other. And, later, we'll talk about that some more." I said breaking the conversation.

"But right now," I said leaving the bed and retrieving two bathrobes from the closet, "there are still things you need to learn before your 'audition'. So let's have breakfast. Then we'll have to spend more time in the 'class-room'." 

CHAPTER 6 The lessons continue.



After breakfast, I let Sari satisfy some of her feminine curiosities. She examined the male anatomy, expressing shock at its size. She carefully explored me and touched me. Under my direction, she brought me to full erection with her touch and then she watched fascinated as I returned to a flaccid state. Then, she impetuously bent down and kissed me. Immediately embarrassed by her actions, she tried to explain that she loved ALL of me, so why shouldn't she kiss ALL of me. After all, I had kissed ALL of her!

I explained what a hand job was, and encouraged her to try it. When I came, it splattered in her face, and I made her wear the cum until she had finished me. 

She lay beside me with her head on my stomach, watching my private parts as she gently fondled them. "What's a blow-job?" she asked, squeezing me, "and how do I do it?"

I explained to her that it was like making love, but the woman used her mouth instead of her vagina. 

"Does a man - - - cum - - -". I nodded. 

"In the girl's mouth?" I nodded. 

"I don't think I'd like that!"

"He may ask you for a blow job," I reminded her.

"I know. Will you explain to me what to do and - - - - and let me try it - - - - with you?"



After we had talked about it, Sari knelt between my legs and took me in her mouth, trying to suck it deeper in her throat. But she obviously did not get the desired result.

"Sari, get your throat more in line," I coached. "Try to relax your throat muscles and repress your gagging reflex. Then just swallow like with a big bite and let it slide in." 

Sari followed my advice and I lurched forward to stick my cock

further in. Suddenly almost two more inches slid into Sari's throat. She was glad but had to let go right after that. She came back and was soon pumping her mouth up and down on me. She wasn't quite used to it yet, but she obviously had a natural ability to relax her throat muscles. I was confident that with a little practice, she would be able to deep throat a man, swallowing a whole cock soon. 

I stopped her once it was obvious she had picked up the basics and gave her a chance to rest. She admitted that her jaw muscles were getting pretty tired.

When she was rested, I showed her how to place a condom over the head of the penis and to roll it on at the same time she's taking the penis into her mouth. That way, she could give a full blowjob, but have the protection of the condom at the same time.

Lying side by side in bed, I described oral sex by a man on a woman. This interested her, and so I demonstrated, and brought her to a mind blowing climax. After recovering from this I described anal sex to her. When she understood what it was all about, we decided to skip it.

At lunchtime, we got dressed and went to the grocery store. Surreptitiously, she slipped away from me and purchased a small bag of turnips, which gave us both a good laugh. In the way home, I left her outside of the drug store as I purchased some contraceptive foam and an applicator. I also bought a douche, in case she had a bad reaction to the spermicide in the foam. 

After lunch, we returned 'to our lessons'. I showed her how to use the foam, and she reported no ill-effects from the chemical. I explained what it was and how it worked. I also pointed out that it

had the side effect of providing extra lubrication, in the event that natural lubrication was inadequate. The conversation lapsed, and she snuggled to my chest, rubbing her face against me like a cat nuzzles a person’s leg.

"Maybe we can take a break from our lessons for a while." she purred. "It would be a shame to let that foam go to waste, now that it's been put in place, With the foam in there, you wouldn't have to use a condom."

We used a condom anyhow, and I took this opportunity to let her open the package and roll it into place. Sari propped herself up on pillows so she could watch everything that happened, everything I did. Again, seeing the size of my organ, I could sense her hesitation.

"Are you afraid I might be too big for you?" 

She blushed and nodded.

"We made love twice last night. And it didn't hurt then, did it?" She shook her head. "Then it's fair to assume it won't hurt today, isn't it?" She nodded.

But she was still tentative as she watched me move to her and slowly enter her. Her eyes widened as she watched my entire length disappear into her. When I was fully inside of her, her eyes met mine. 

"I don't believe it! But you're right. It doesn't hurt. No wonder I feel stretched!" And she offered me her lips.

Our lovemaking was slow, gentle, exceedingly loving, and immensely enjoyable for both of us. For the first time, Sari experienced a vaginal orgasm at the same time that I came. I think it was one of the most pleasant and affectionate times either of us had ever experienced.

Later, we talked about different positions: she sitting in my lap, facing me and away from me. Also, when I was lying on my back she straddled me. And, of course, the doggie position. Tit-fucking was almost an impossibility, since her breasts were so small. 

It was getting late, and we were both approaching exhaustion. As we talked about the choreographer's casting requirements, Sari mentioned another girl, Janelle, who had a private audition also a few months earlier. At my suggestion, Sari called Janelle, told her situation, and

asked what to expect. Janelle knew Sari and, because of Sari's virginal image, was very concerned when she learning that Sari had been called for an 'audition'. Knowing what Sari faced, Janelle spoke very freely. (I was listening in on an extension phone, and writing questions for Sari to ask.)

"He asked if I was a virgin," Janelle reported. "I said no, that I lived with my boyfriend." 

"Did he use a condom?" Sari asked. I could see her blush as she asked the question.

"No, the topic never came up. When He found I was living with a

man, he asked if I was on the pill. When I said yes, He said he was glad, because he didn't want any of his girls getting pregnant."

"What did he want?"

"Just straight sex. But I had to use my hand and mouth to get him up.

"Did he cum inside you?"

Janelle hesitated before answering. I guessed she was perplexed that 'virginal Sari' would be asking questions like this. 

"Yes." Janelle answered. "But before he came, He asked again if I had been taking the pill regularly. After I said yes, he came inside me. It didn't last long. In a way, it was almost as if it was a business transaction for him, and he didn't really seem interested. It was like he was giving me a promotion out of the chorus line, and he just wanted to be paid for the promotion."

After talking with Janelle, Sari came to me and I folded her in my arms. It was obvious that making the phone call had been very hard on her. Then we went to bed and she used her hand and mouth to get me ready before we made love. This time, our lovemaking was more active and aggressive for both of us, and ultimately she accomplished a massive orgasm, screaming, kicking, crying and finally whimpering. 

When it was over, she lay panting in my arms, and she whispered, "I love you SO much! Thank you for being so good to me!"

We lay side by side for a long time. We talked some, but most of the time, we simply held each other and snuggled. I began to sense tension developing in her and knew something was on her mind. 

"When the audition is over, will we still be together?" she finally asked. "Will you want to make love with me?"

So that was it! "I hope so," I answered. "I told you I was in love with you. That hasn't changed. And I don't expect it to be any different after - - - - "

"I hope so, too," she purred, snuggling closer to me. "I think I like sleeping in your bed. - - -" As an afterthought, she added, "as long as you're in it with me!"

We held each other closer to each other and fell asleep in each other's arms.

CHAPTER 7 - After the audition

The next morning, Sari was up before I awoke. When I got up, she was in the kitchen, dressed in her rehearsal uniform of tights, leotard, legwarmers, and a baggy sweatshirt. She was preparing her usual Spartan breakfast. She greeted me with a kiss, but she was obviously thinking about the day ahead of her: dance classes in the morning and rehearsals in the afternoon. And the ever present thought that she would probably be called for her 'audition' sometime this week. 

After breakfast, she gathered her tote bag, and giving me a brief kiss, left for the studio. 

I watched from the window as she walked down the street to the Subway station. Damn, she was a good-looking babe! She held her head high and walked purposefully with her bag over her shoulder. She had the characteristic gate of a dancer as she turned the corner and I lost sight of her. 

Pouring another cup of coffee, I saw the Piano sitting mutely in the living room. The AIDA score was still open, as if it was still waiting for Radames' entrance. Taking my place on the bench, I began another day of practice and working on the Operatic score.

About 1:00 PM, the phone rang. It was Sari. 

She had been called to come for her audition after rehearsal that afternoon.

The rest of the afternoon was lost. I couldn't concentrate enough on AIDA to play a single line of the score I moved to the sofa, impatiently waiting for her return. I paced the floor. I tried to read, but the words were just a blur on the page. I put on some music, but every piece annoyed me and brought images to my mind of Sari rutting with a faceless stranger. I tried TV, but that was equally useless. 

Finally, around 7:30 in the evening, there were footfalls on the steps in the hall. I opened the door before she knocked and moved toward her, my arms outstretched. She cringed and backed away from me, putting up her hands as if to push me away. We both hesitated, and after a moment, and she moved into my arms. We held each other for a long time, not moving, saying nothing.

Finally, she whispered, "Well, it's over!"

I drew her into my apartment and closed the door behind her. We stood there holding each other for possibly another five minutes. I waited for her lead. She cried a little, but mostly she simply clung to me, drawing love from my body and support from my arms.

"Let's lie down together," she whispered. "I just want to feel you close to me. I want to be held." 

We went to the bedroom and lay on top of the covers, arms entwined. I held her looser and caressed her face, and kissed her forehead. With a little difficulty, I removed the rubber band releasing her hair from the ponytail. 

"It wasn't awful," she declared finally. "But I think it would have been horrible if I hadn't been with you before. All the time I was with him, I knew that you were here, that you loved me, that you treasured me, that I was important, that you wanted me - - - Do you still want me now that I've - - - -?"

She felt me nod my head, and she melted into my arms. But she still needed reassurance.

"You still want me, I mean, even after he - - - -?" I nodded again but she went on. "- - - now that I'm ... soiled merchandise?"

"Sari, I want you because you are the woman I love."

"Even though I've . . . . "

I put my finger over her lips. "I am in love with you. I told you that. When I change my mind and stop loving you, I'll tell you. But right now, I love you and I want you because you are the woman I love.

"There may be things that I've done in the past that you might not like." I continued. "But you still love me. Likewise, there may be things in your past that I may not like. But I still love you."

"Even - - -?" she hesitated.

"Even - - -!" I responded.

I continued, "Let me ask a question. Suppose you had had your 'audition' six months before we met. And suppose I still fell in love with you and didn't know about the audition. Do you think I would still love you?"

"But you DO know!"

"Do you think that I was a virgin, that you were my first and that I have never had any experience other than you?"

"No," she admitted sadly. 

"Does that effect the way you think about me?"

She thought for a while. "It would have been nice if I had been your first. But no, I didn't expect that, or even think it." She thought a little more, and a smile crossed her face. "In fact, I'm thankful for - - - what you've - - - experienced - - - in the past. Because of what's happened in your past, you were better prepared to help me." I felt her smile widen as she snuggled her face against my chest. "I bless every woman you've ever slept with! And I bless them for every lesson they've taught you!"

"And you don't hold it against me that I've been with other women?" I asked?

"Nooooooo!" she cooed, rubbing her cheek against my breast.

"Then, how can I hold it against you that you spent an evening with someone else?"

She snuggled some more. "I hope you can't!"

She kissed my chest, then raised her head to look into my eyes. "You REALLY DO love me, don't you? How can I be so lucky to have a man love me as much as you do?"

"I love you!" I whispered to her. "I want you no matter what happened. As far as I'm concerned, he doesn't exist. He never did. And right now I'm holding the woman I love."

"Will you make love to me now?" she asked. "Gently and lovingly, like you do sometimes?"

Again I nodded. We kissed. I caressed her cheek and my hand slid down her arm, then up her side where it paused at her ribcage. Her hand covered mine and gently led me to her breast. She kept her hand over mine, pressing my palm to her. She gave a gentle sigh as my fingers found her nipple and rolled it. 

"You do that so well!" she whispered. When you do that, I can feel it all over!"

Her hand left mine and moved downward to unsnap her leotard. Then she lifted her hips as she tried to pull it upwards using only one hand. I knelt beside her and together, we raised it over her head. I placed it on the night table beside the bed while she began pushing her tights and underwear down over her hips. Working together, she was completely 

naked in a matter of moments. 

I lay beside her, placing one hand over her bare breast, and she looked at my shirt. One hand went to the top button and opened it. "Take off your clothes and come to me. Please!"

I nodded, and stood beside the bed and undressed. She pulled down the covers and slipped between the sheets. As I finished my task, she opened the nightstand drawer beside her and took out a condom and a towel. I slid in beside her and she turned to me, pulling me against her as we kissed. My hand slid down to caress her bottom, and I felt a change in her kiss. 

She drew away from me and again pressed her cheek against me.

"Can you wait a few minutes?" she asked. "I want to take a shower and wash him off and everything about him. Then I want to come back to your bed and I want you to make love to me. I know I shouldn't wash before we get together, but I want to get rid of everything about him before I come to your bed."

"May I join you in the shower? Let me help washing him off."

A small, sly smile crept across her face. "I'd like that." And once again, that small smile became her dazzling smile.

CHAPTER 8 – A shower and - - -

In the shower, I held her close as the water ran over us. After a while, she broke the embrace and handed me a bar of soap. I started Lathering her back, then she turned away from me and I reached around her to lather her chest and breasts. She leaned her head back against my shoulder. Then slowly, I soaped my hands and moved downward to gently lather her bush and to carefully cleanse her private area. I washed the area around her clit, but made a point of trying not to stimulate her, but there was no denying where my hands were. 

Rinsing my hands, I began humming a tune as I rinsed the soap away from her pubis. I added words to the tune - - - 

"I'm gonna wash that man right outta your hair - - -"

Recognizing the tune, she joined as she pressed her head against me. "You're gonna wash that man right outta my hair - - -" And she sighed as lathered soap was rinsed away.

She turned to take the soap from me, but I refused. "Right now, it's my job to wash you. You can wash me another time if you wish."

She accepted my choice, but reached down to take hold of my penis And stroked it to semi erection. Then moving close to me, she pointed my penis between her legs so it was near her pubic hair and nestled between her labia. There was no lubrication and the angles were all wrong, so I couldn't penetrate her, but she started singing again. "I'm gonna put THIS man back into my hair - - -". The song stopped and her eyes seemed to be looking into my soul. "I love you!" she whispered. I kissed her and held her, my penis trapped between her legs. It was a long kiss.

Then I lathered her from head to toe, and gradually rinsed her off, kissing every part of her as the soap washed away. 

She stood still throughout the entire process, permitting me to serve her. As I knelt and rinsed the soap from her ankles and kissed her feet, she bent over and took my head between her hands and lifted me to face her. 

"This is fun. Sometimes, do you suppose we can we take another shower and wash him off some more?" she teased.

"No, he's gone," was my response. "We don't need to wash any more to get rid of him." (A disappointed look crossed her face.) I continued.

"But I'd love to take a shower with you to help you wash off the sweat from your dance classes!" What a pleasure it was to see that glorious smile cross her face.

"Am I clean now?"

"As clean and pure as the driven snow"

"Am I clean enough to share your bed?"

"Absolutely".

She turned the shower off, and we dried each other off.

"Last weekend, we spent time together because I had to prepare . . . for something else." She started. "I had sex with you then because I had to.

"Now," she continued, "I'm going to your bed because I want to offer myself to you. If you'll have me, I want to make love with you simply because I want to. I want to give you everything I can. Not because I have to, but because I want to. Will you have me?"

“Of course, I accept. And, yes, I WILL have you!” I pulled her to me. The towels were between us, but our backs were bare. 


“I’ll have you - - -“, I whispered into her ear as my hand roamed over her back, “because - - -”, and my hand slid downwards and caressed her bottom, “you have the nicest, - - -” I gently cupped her bottom, “tightest, most beautiful ASS - - -” I grabbed the part of the anatomy being mentioned, and her eyes widened and her muscles tensed under my fingers, “- - - that I have ever seen!” 




Audition



Oh... shit...

"You're doing great, Penny," Bruce called out. "Don't stop now."

Johnny smiled down at me and pushed forward. His cock pushed at my opening. Was he going to push it in, or was this just part of the camera fakery? I wasn't sure, so I played along. I raised my hips and bucked my aching pussy up at him. Mark would freak if he saw this. I'll need to fuck him good tonight, for sure. There was no way I'd be able to sleep being so hot and needy all day. I gasped raggedly, trying feverishly to allow his cock to scratch my itch.

Johnny's cock popped into my lips down there. Oh shit, the head of his cock was inside me. Barry slapped my cheek again and I sucked him down while I was trying to sort through all this. Barry stroked my hair and tits. His hands sent jolts from my nipples down to my aching pussy. I really needed to be fucked, this was maddening. If I made it through this, I could make it through any audition.

Johnny's cock stretched my pussy wide open. Damn, he wasn't wearing a condom, either, but it felt so good. I couldn't believe I was doing this. Johnny gave a strong push and my back squirmed as his cock stretched me out. He grunted with the effort and pulled back, allowing my pussy lips to adjust around his pole. 

"Uuhhnn..." My voice escaped me as I released Barry's cock and pulled on Johnny's hips to help him enter me. Shit, I couldn't be bothered to think through this. I needed to be fucked. I groaned out loud as I slowly stretched and took in Johnny's wide cock.

I could hear everyone murmuring approval. I was doing good.

Johnny rested his hips against mine and I realized I had fit it all in me. Wow. I was really doing this. I kept gripping Johnny's hips as he began thrusting. I felt so full, I thought I would rip. But at the same time, I felt like that insistent itch was getting scratched. I fucked Johnny back as he grunted on me. I let go and got into the fuck, thinking that they wouldn't know that I wasn't acting for the camera. The itch was demanding, and I was going to take advantage of the situation to get it scratched.

When he pulled out, I wanted to cry. I suddenly felt alone for a brief instant. I needed him back in me. But he knelt by me as Barry pulled me up. What was going on? Barry laid down and pulled me over to him, motioning to his erect cock. Johnny helped me straddle the slender black waist.

Oh.

I gripped Barry's cock and rubbed it over my clit. That felt so good, so nasty. Barry's hips pushed up and the head pushed at my stretched opening.

Yeah, good idea. Let's just refill that very wet hole.

I sank down on his long black cock and felt it slide into me so smoothly. Johnny had stretched me out, so Barry's cock felt a lot better. I fucked up and down on him. Johnny stuck his cock near me and I gripped it, stroking while I rode hard on Barry. I rotated my hips down onto the handsome black man and the cheers in the studio sounded great.

I was getting a very bad itch taken care of. I could never admit this to anyone, ever. I wasn't a whore, and hoped I wouldn't feel like one after. Was all this part of the audition? Probably not. We probably all lost control and just went at it. I wondered how many other auditions spun out of control?

Barry pushed me off and rolled me onto my back. He crawled between my legs and gently slid his cock back into me.

"Ohhhhh... yessss..." That came from me? Wow, I wasn't even aware I was making so much noise.

Barry hit bottom and I wrapped my legs around his hips. I didn't want him to stop fucking me. Johnny slapped my cheek with his cock and I turned to suck it in. The sensation of a cock sliding in and out of my pussy and one sliding in and out of my mouth was weird. Very different, and although I knew I shouldn't be doing this, it was interesting. Yes, it felt good, too. In the back of my head, though, I felt the shame of feeling pleasure for such a lewd act. I felt guilty for enjoying it.

Barry stroked faster in me and his muscles started to clench. Shit! Was he going to come? He wasn't wearing a condom! Barry cried out and I felt the first squirts of sperm enter way up inside me. He pulled out slowly as he jerked. His cock came out and it was still squirting. Long thin ropes of sperm rhythmically shot out of his cock onto my belly, and then he just slid it back into me while he was still squirting. More sperm flooded into me.

"Mmmm yesss..." That was me again? I felt like such a whore. Did whores always feel this good? I realized I didn't care if he fucked me, if he filled me with a gallon of sperm; I couldn't have children, anyway.

Johnny grunted suddenly when he saw Barry squirting sperm all over me and his cock erupted in my mouth a few seconds later. I tried to swallow it all, but I wasn't very good at it. I never had been. Sperm bubbled up and out of my lips. 

Gah, what a mess. There was sperm everywhere. But the whole studio was cheering wildly.

I'm not sure what the outcome of all that was. According to a copy of the papers I had signed, if my audition was used for production, I would be receiving a check. Apparently, it was a casting couch audition, a sex show, and I just went right along with it all. The papers even mention the possibility of further work, but I'm not sure how to approach that. There's no way I could tell Mark about any of it. Having now done one already, was there any reason not to do another?

Yeah, I went home that night and fucked my hubbie. I still had Barry's sperm leaking out of me and Mark asked me what had got me so excited. I just told him I needed to be fucked. 



Auditioning for the Harem



A pocket-palladium, the Monde Elegante nightclub was the premier show club in the city. Also one of the oldest. The neighborhood when it was built was a genteel part of town occupied by the comfortably well off. Passing years had changed the demographics and the median income of the area, and the Monde Elegante had deteriorated, too. The building could use a paintbrush.

Its Art Deco trim and balustrades, cutting-edge in its day, had become symbols of urban decay. Passers-by noticed that what once looked like sculptured concrete and granite was in fact painted wood, and as years went by, even the illusion of quality wood disappeared as paint cracked, panels rotted and split, and decorative features broke off and fell away. 

Nevertheless, by virtue of its fame as the finest music-song-dance club in the city, the Monde Elegante had a loyal clientele. The sense of grandeur returned, once the patrons passed through the ornate doors. Inside, gold banisters, maroon velvet overstuffed chairs, chandeliers dripping with crystal prisms, and other Belle Epoque elements whisked visitors out of Kansas and off to Oz. Outside, the heat of the city and the stench of uncollected garbage assaulted the nostrils, but inside, clean, cool air was like a visit to the Alps, and even the less well-heeled, whose black coats and ties were likely leather jackets and waiter's neckties, could pretend, just for a few hours, that they had money. 

In the dressing rooms of the Monde Elegante, Dick Crosscir adjusted his costume and added finishing touches to his makeup. An athletic, powerful dancer at the peak of his prowess, he had moved up through the ranks at the Monde Elegante to become the star male dancer of the troupe.

Crowds oohed and aahed at his superhuman leaps; he almost seemed to fly. Female dancers loved to pair with him--he lifted them, even tossing them in the air, and he did it so easily he made the women appear light and fairy-like. Newspaper critics constantly wrote about him as a "cross between Nijinsky and Hulk Hogan." 

Unlike most slender, streamlined male dancers, Crosscir was muscled like a heavyweight fighter. Critics rhapsodized about his legs, "...two mighty, giant oak limbs that could catch a feather in mid-air or gently kiss the ground as if he walked over it without touching it."

In body, he was a monster. A massive chest that meant no costumes in the Monde Elegante's vast wardrobe would fit him. Many onlookers wished he would go without the custom-tailored, puffy-sleeved, period tunics--the bulging muscles over his broad shoulders and outlining his chest like an armored castle made many in the audience reach down in the darkness to tickle either clitoris or hardened cock.

The roles in which Crisscir was bare-chested brought in the biggest crowds. When he appeared as Trojan warrior, warfaring Viking--or as the malevolent Othello, skin darkened, cavorting about the blushing Desdemona--most in the audience breathed faster, thinking either I wish he would fuck her or I wish he would fuck me. 

At 6'3", Dick Crosscir was a dancing paradox. Favorable critics wrote that he "...was an incredible, awe-inspiring locomotive so poised and balanced, the great machine pirouettes on a single wheel..." and even the negative reviews stated that "...the performance suffered from uninspired choreography and amateurish dancing in the chorus line, although Dick Crosscir almost saved the performance with such athletics that a few women were observed to faint away at the sight..."

Less well known was the equally impressive prop between his legs. Blessed with stupendous genes, Crosscir had a penis actually a liability to a dancer--so long and thick it required a jockstrap with a reinforced pouch to crowd it into an angry coil while he performed. 

It was "less well known" only to the general public, however; among a certain crowd, Dick Crosscir was extraordinarily well known as one with a trail behind him of men forever ruined for the attentions of any other. Not only was his package of Olympic proportions--a gold medal cock never bettered by anyone he saw naked--he was also one of those with a "nailhead," an organ not only huge but with a cockhead so broad, his penis looked like a giant nail. The shaft was plenty thick, a good 2½ inches, but his cockhead flared a good inch wider. Going in, it would bring a scream from anybody--and it would resist coming out. A man who spread his legs for Dick Crosscir would start out screaming, end up dazed, star-struck, and begging . . . and spend the rest of his life reminiscing.

Crosscir was also locally famous for his passion for bananas, his favorite fruit. He nibbled at them constantly backstage. The club maintained a bowl of them for his convenience, his apartment had them in several more bowls, and a favorite come-on line of his was to swallow a length of banana suggestively while giving a come-hither look at his next conquest.

From the time Crosscir became the club's premier male dance lead, every night he had two or three dance numbers centered on him. Agents from New York and Los Angeles often stopped in at the Monde Elegante to catch his act. The old banana peels he threw aside became collectors' items for his fans.

The club's owners, however, were infected with the usual virus, greed, and were arrested in a tax-evasion fraud. After a series of trials, retrials, appeals, and legal maneuvers, the two were forced to sell the club and move out of state. 

The new owners brought with them a decidedly more sensual orientation. Whereas once the Monde Elegante staged dance and music productions of almost Broadway quality--sections adapted from famous musical comedies, even songs from "West Side Story" and "Showboat"--some disgruntled employees began to complain that the Monde Elegante had turned into "Cabaret."

Even gruntled employees like Crosscir, who enjoyed showing more skin, were dismayed that the focus shifted to glare almost exclusively on traditional female T&A.

Costumes that once "covered" were redesigned to "bare." Choreographies that once called for quick, high kicks tended more to slow, leg-spreading squats and splits. Production numbers like "I Like To Be In America" were replaced with original compositions like "As My Baby Has Me" with bump & grind arrangements featuring a lot of skin. Male dancers were merely chorus-line horny suitors for the strippers headlining the numbers.

Crosscir's "starring" numbers began to feature him as only a male foil for a female strumpet with lots of crotch-bumps, breast fondles, and simulated intercourse set to music. The more the Monde Elegante settled into Monde Degradante, the more the feature female dancers' names became clever: Terri Cloth, Bumpi Knight, Gigi String, and Orgasmia.

A new star rose to the top, a girl named simply "Anastasia." She had the usual big tits, pouting looks, and ability to do the splits, but customers packed the place to see her dance because her body moved in such disjointed, impossible contortions. Onlookers either gasped at the sight or moaned in sexual hunger. Whereas Crosscir's star abilities consisted of magnificent strength and grace, Anastasia's were simple double-jointedness and an instinct for the whorish. She was occasionally seen to dildo herself with a banana from the bowl kept for Crosscir.

Dick Crosscir was looking for another gig by the time his great chance appeared. 

On his visit to the United States, the Emir of Faindema was scheduled to visit the city, and as his emissaries hinted that the emir had "exotic" tastes, the US State Department booked the Monde Elegante for a performance for the emir's entourage alone.

The new owners rubbed their hands with glee, and so did Anastasia, looking for a possible gig as the emir's consort for a few years--just long enough to get her own Learjet. Everything was set up--Anastasia would perform a dance number with a chorus line of hearty males, a routine choreographed to be so steamy and erotic that the stage managers had bets down on how many onlookers would be seen to have orgasms.

But on the evening of Anastasia's greatest performance--including a stunning "wardrobe malfunction" planned for the climax of her act--as she left her apartment on her way to the club, she slipped on a banana peel (a classic pratfall made famous by Charlie Chaplin and immortalized by such greats as the Keystone Kops, Laurel & Hardy, and the Three Stooges). Her rendition was not so humorous--she went cartwheeling down the stairs, ending at the bottom bruised, battered, and with a broken leg.

Before the news reached the club owners, the Emir of Faindema was in attendance, seated in the middle of a large group of his servants, concubines, and miscellaneous hangers-on. What the emissaries of the emir had not told the State Department, however, was the degree to which the emir's tastes were considered "exotic." 

As the production worked its way up to the gala performance of Anastasia's orgasmic number, the emir could be seen to yawn, converse with those seated near him, and to look at his watch. 

The club owners, once they got the news from the hospital, almost passed out, but they recovered enough to yell curses on Anastasia.

Dick Crosscir had locked himself in his dressing room, and when the owners pounded on the door, finally breaking it open, they were surprised to see he was already made up and in costume. "Dick, you've got to help us!"





Auditioning for the Harem



Feeling his character on the chessboard change from a powerful bishop to a menial pawn, the dancer hoping to score himself a meal ticket could not stop himself from dropping to his knees. The profound, heady perfume of the emir's crotch was just short of foul--but disturbing enough to be supremely erotic and more arousing than any odor Crosscir had ever smelled. He moaned as his mouth opened over the huge screw.

He gasped as he discovered the obscene cockhead was not soft and rubbery like those of other men. The sharp threads radiating out from the tip were firm, almost sharp. God, he really could gouge his way in! The deep grooves channeled Crosscir's tongue into radial licks, and the precum, which had dribbled into the grooves, was even more of an aphrodisiac than he feared.

The emir pulled his cock back out of the new slave's mouth. "I have other plans for you, Mr. Crosscir--may I call you Dick?"

Dick nodded humbly.

"Lie back on the carpet, Dick, and prepare for me. I dream of thrusting my rainbow inside you, my lusty Pan." So hot he felt barbecued, Dick lay back, opened his legs wide, and looked up as attendants removed the emir's underwear. Then the king mounted him, pushed his obscenely shaped cockhead against Dick's hole, and as their eyes met, Crosscir saw in desperations that his plans for a great impression had gone terribly wrong.

The emir admired the beautiful specimen of manhood below him, and his balls in their carefully trimmed sac began to gather up to his crotch--he had never been so aroused by a dance performance, and now that he had the object of his affection in his boudoir, he would waste no time in foreplay.

Just as he moved to thrust himself into his muscular prize, Crosscir moved slightly, then with a powerful scissor of his legs, he rolled over, seizing the emir's astonished cock between his legs, then facing away doggy-style, he lurched his hips, literally jacking off the panting ruler by gripping his penis between his muscle-bound legs.

The emir moaned, brushing back the attendants who had rushed to his aid. "This is no attack," he told them in English, "this is the skill of a very masterful lover." Then he bent over and kissed the back of Crosscir's neck. "You are excellent, my great buffalo. You bring me great pleasure." 

He lowered his voice. "Dick, no man has ever aroused me the way you do." He reached under Crosscir's chest and gripped his cock. "And I have never seen anything as Satanic as your evil manhood." He gave him a few strokes. "I am thinking, my Dick, that anybody fucked by you for a few days would have trouble walking."

The emir laughed deep in his chest. "Ah, but first you will be my willing hole." And with that, Dick's asshole felt a spicy sting, and the smell of some exotic elixir met his nostrils. "With Abyssinian camphor," the emir murmured, "mixed with olive oil. I lubricate the hinges of your love gate." 

Dick breathed harder as his rectum glowed warmly, the sensation spreading through his guts. He bit his lip. "This is going to be a memorable fuck." Assaulted by extreme aromas, mind-blowing organic deformations, and the suffocating atmosphere of money, control, and power, Dick's carefully laid plans evaporated.

The emir mounted, his arms on either side of Dick's shoulders, his strong torso hovering over him. Then the entry. Didn't hurt. The emir's cock, after all, was very pointed. But soon as the corkscrew grooves sliced in rotating bites around Dick's spreading rectum, the sensation became painful, internal-injury fear mixed with a strange, almost supernatural thrill.

Each lunge after that nailed Dick's ass securely as emir-property--once past the intense sensations of the corkscrew cockhead chiseling its way into him, his brain could manage to get around only the fact that he was swallowed up in a sex session of biblical ferocity. Tears of bliss formed in his eyes as the Great Pubic Drill brought him into complete surrender.

Dick's body went from delighted stretch to ohmigod surprise as the gouging drill turned his guts into the emir's fuck-highway. His orgasm had not even started yet, but his body glowed in an overpowering sensation of pleasure, almost a climax without cumming. Fuck! Almighty God, this guy is the best fucker I have ever had!

And his asshole, stretching deliriously around the emir's tattooed dong, sucked the determination out of him, and Dick gasped as his whole body blossomed. The stimulations of the obscenely deformed cock brought him to a pleasure level he'd never known. And he knew he was lost.

But in a miracle Dick did not expect nor even realize was happening, in a sudden reversal he could never have managed by himself, the emir, on the edge of conquering the pulsating asshole below him, went over the falls into an orgasm, flooding the infidel's guts with good Muslim jism. 

As the emir fell back, panting, pulling his cock from the newly bred American, he glared at the infidel. By Allah! This man will become my slave! But Dick rose up, still with his hardon, leaning back on his elbows. Okay. I've got one chance here. Now it's Showtime.

The garish corkscrew cock had softened and deformed, but Dick's mighty peter, yet to climax, was in full fighting trim. Sensing the emir's momentary weakness, Dick got up, positioned himself over the man and spread the emir's legs with his own. He mounted the royal ruler's man-cunt and wasted no time in showing the man the American Stretch. 

He skewered the foreign potentate, thrusting his titanic cock into him in one lunge, catching the emir off-guard. "Allah!" he gasped, "you kill me!" As the watchful guards leaped forward, however, the emir held up his hand--"But I crave your invasion, my Pan."

Stabbing his huge cock fully in, Dick began his fuck movements, a sensual pendulum, and the gigantic size of his organ, something the emir had never experienced, had the once-mighty monarch drowning in ecstasy. The stretch of his asshole combined with the deep-male pleasure of feeling himself taken by a big stallion.

Although his was an incredible organ, the emir realized with eyes rolled back in their sockets that he'd been bested. "Sublime," he murmured. A cock so big it outdid anything he'd ever felt before.

At his end of the magic connection, Dick despaired of winning the match--although his dong thrilled as it slid back and forth in the emir's seething fuck-channel, his own ass still thrummed from the rapture gouged into him by the emir's vicious cock. Even as his mighty dong reached critical mass and turned him into a fiery god of orgasm, in the one last cool molecule in the bottom of his balls, Dick realized he had been captivated. He knew he was the emir's bitch, his latest conquest, his slave.

But as the molten lava of Dick's ejaculation surged into the guts of the shuddering ruler, the emir knew it: He has captured me. He is beyond any human I have ever known. I cannot let him out of my life! Finally recovered, it was his turn to raise himself on his elbows.

Dick had lost all hope. Here it comes. Now he tells me he wants me to be his whore. Now he tells me to pack a sleeping bag and camp out wherever he goes. Crosscir's life collapsed around him. And I'll have to do it. I'm his bitch. I would follow him to Antarctica and sleep out in the snow. He sighed. Just to have him fuck me.

The emir looked over at the man who had just tamed him. His world was collapsing around him. I have never been bested in love and sex. Until this man. His asshole glowed from the stunning copulation he just enjoyed. I must admit it: I am his whore, his eager, willing meat-hole. The emir shut his eyes. I am his bitch. I would spread my legs in the Main Assembly of the United Nations if he ordered me to. I cannot let him go. I will do whatever he asks. He sighed. Just to have him fuck me.

Both men looked each other in the eyes. The emir was first to speak. "I will provide you with a palace in Faindema. A Learjet to take you back to America whenever you wish. A penthouse here if you wish. A Rolls-Royce to carry you around." He paused. "You must never leave me."

Dick brought his lips to the emir's mouth, and they kissed. Then the emir whispered in his ear. "You will be a secret member of my harem--but you will be my husband." He nibbled at Dick's ear. "Perhaps we will both be husbands."

The sound of those words pushed Dick into a new, powerful orgasm. As he ejaculated into the air, he gasped, "As you wish!"

The silk sheets in the emir's bed that night were like going to sleep suspended in warm cream.

~~~

~~~

~~~



Auditioning Steven



The first time I saw Steven I thought he was just some goofy kid. There I was, sitting in a conference room flipping through headshots. I put aside a photo of Dwayne, the pudgy man performing in front of me – obviously in his mid-thirties despite his résumé’s claim of being twenty-seven – to a Polaroid of some kid’s face. Yes, a Polaroid. Where all the other headshots were professional eight-by-ten photos, this boy had sent a color Polaroid. He must’ve held a camera at arms length and snapped it himself. The name "Steven" was hand-written in the white border at the bottom of the photo. I laughed out loud, drawing a glare from Dwayne in mid-performance. 

"Thanks, Dwayne, that’s all I need," I interrupted; paying back the bitchy glance he had given me with an obvious rejection.

I work as an art director at a corporate communications firm. But since my major in college was Theatre the company I work for also has me write and direct live events and videos. Most of the time we look for middle-aged everymen to pander to salespeople with lots of upbeat technical mumbo-jumbo about the newest server or software. I spent this day, however, auditioning young performers for a corporate video promoting a new energy drink. But the gig was non-union, meaning the pay was low, the hours long and most of the guys coming into the room were too old, too ugly, too fat, or some horrible combination of the three. The end of a very long day was quickly approaching and I couldn’t wait to get home and jack off.

As Dwayne grabbed his bag and left the room I looked again at Steven’s Polaroid. Like I said, he was a goofy kid. He looked to be barely twenty, with tussled brown hair and bright blue eyes. He had this lopsided smirk on his face and the photo was slightly blurry. He was cute, granted. But this kid must be completely off his rocker. I chuckled again as I heard the conference room door open and close. I looked up to see Steven standing in front of me, shuffling his weight a bit from side to side. The only way I recognized him was by the unkempt brown hair and the hypnotic color of his eyes that were just as striking in person as in his photograph. They weren’t just blue, but some kind of piercing combination of cyan and silver amidst large, clear pools of white. The rest of him was totally unexpected, however, and my cock immediately lurched. 

Steven was exquisitely shaped. He stood about 5’6" and probably weighed 120 pounds wet. He wore a very small green and light blue-striped t-shirt, a pair of brown corduroy pants and red tennis shoes with white laces. Though he was light and thin, his tight shirt revealed flat, square pectorals and a hint of a washboard stomach. His arms were slightly cut, showing off small but perfectly formed biceps and triceps. His skin was pale and smooth – almost as if someone had painted him with flesh-colored cream. His torso formed a distinct "V" shape as it tapered down into a tiny waist. But the best thing about him was his posture. He kind of stood into his hips, jutting his pelvis forward in a very manly way that was in sharp contrast to his boyish beauty. I figured he must be wearing boxers, because what appeared to be a big cock and set of balls hung out and straight down rather casually in his loose-fitting trousers.

"Hi. My n-name’s uh... Steven." He stammered a bit, obviously nervous. I heard a southern drawl in his voice and immediately knew he wasn’t from New York. He approached the table at which I was sitting and stuck out his hand.

I stood up to shake it. As I was standing I sucked in my nearly flat stomach and puffed up my chest just a little. I’m forty-four years old and some say really attractive. I’m 6’3", just shy of two hundred pounds and fairly hairy. I work out several times a week and stay active. There’s a touch of both Italian and Cherokee in my family tree so I have a slightly tanned color even in the winter. I have dark brown hair with just a few hints of gray at my temples. I had overslept the last two days in a row and a short, thick scruff grew on my face. I guess Steven was a little shaken by my size because as I stood up his eyes widened just a bit. I shook his damp and clammy hand a little more firmly than I should and allowed our first physical contact to linger.

"I’m Raf," I smiled. Steven smiled back, showing off the lopsided grin from the Polaroid. "It’s short for Raphael, but I never go by anything but Raf."

"It’s a cool name," he said, obviously feeling a bit braver than before. He didn’t move to break our lingering grasp of each other’s hand. I could feel my cock swelling so I quickly pulled back my hand and sat down. I never wanted to become one of those lecherous directors, no matter how many times I masturbated fantasizing about popping off a load into the mouth of a cute young thing during an audition. I was determined to keep this business-like no matter how much I wanted him. I felt the tip of my cock release a pearl of pre-cum. 

"Tell me a little about yourself, Steven," I said looking him up and down.

"Well, I’m uh... I’m from a small town in West Virginia and I just came to the city a week ago. I’ve always wanted to be an actor, but my parents can’t afford to send me to college. So I worked h-hard and saved my money after high school and moved to the city as soon as I could afford it. I figure who needs college if you can learn your craft working, right? So now all I need is a j-job." Steven absent-mindedly adjusted his package.

I’ve got a j-job for you my boy, I thought. Then I came back to reality and said, "That’s great, Steve!" I overcompensated with a giddy exuberance to make up for my dirty old mind.

"Oh, please call me S-Steven. I like it when you— I mean..." he said laughing nervously, "I mean I like it when people call me Steven."

"No problem, Steven. I like saying it," I said smiling. He smiled, too. 

"Okay, Steven, let’s get to it. Grab a can of that crap," I said pointing to the cans of energy drink in a nearby cooler "and read the lines off of the cue card on the easel. When you’re done with the lines, pop open the can and take a big swig. And remember, no matter how much you hate the stuff smile and act like it tastes good, okay?"

"No problem," he said grabbing a can.

He read the lines like a professional. Amazing how a kid from West Virginia with no training can walk into a room nervous and read commercial copy like a seasoned pro. When it comes to performing I guess you’ve either got it or you don’t. And this kid had it. I would’ve wanted to strip this kid down and swallow his cock even if he was the worst actor in the world. But now that I was seeing him perform so well, he melted my heart, too.

When it came time for him to open the drink, however, he wasn’t so successful. He reached for the aluminum tab on the top of the can and tried to flip it open with his finger but it slipped. He tried again. This time I could hear the first "POP" of the tab, but the can slipped out of his hands and hit the floor with a thud. Everything else happened in an instant. 

Immediately a fountain of yellow, carbonated fluid spewed out from the top of the can like a geyser. The can spun around on the floor like a rocket soaking everything within six feet of Steven. All he could say was "Oh! Oh! Oh!" as he bent over and chased the can around his feet. Steven had foamy bubbles on his face and hair, the front of this shirt and all over his pants. I pulled a tissue out of a box on the table in front of me and jumped up to help him as the spewing slowed to a stop.

Steven bent back upright and just looked at me. He was wet in splotches from head to toe. His arms were at his side, spread out a bit from his body and liquid dripped from the tips of his fingers. His eyes were wide from the shock and his mouth was agape. I handed him a single tissue – a completely futile gesture – and we both burst out laughing together.

"I am soooo sorry!" Steven said between uncontrollable giggles.

"Don’t worry about it," I said heading back for more tissues. "It was the best thing I’ve seen all day! Come here," I gestured with a handful of tissues. "You’re soaked."

Steven walked towards me and without thinking I reached out and started blotting his flat stomach myself. He tensed a bit at first and I could feel his abdomen ripple beneath his wet shirt. He kept his arms at his side and let me dry him as best I could. He watched my hand move from blotting his stomach and up past his pecs. His nipples were standing at attention. I intentionally brushed one of them and it instantly hardened even more. As I brought the tissue to his neck I stopped patting and started to caress his wet, milky-smooth skin. The smile left his face and he calmly looked me in the eyes. 

My God he’s beautiful, I thought as I lightly brushed his cheek with the tissues. He reached for my mouth.

"You have some foam in your scruff," he said and wiped the bubbles from the corner of my mouth. My lips parted from the pressure and he stopped dead in his tracks. After a moment, he slowly began to trace the outline of my mouth with the tip of his thumb. I dropped the tissue to reach up and caress his cheek, cupping the side of his head with my hand. It was so big in comparison that I could wrap my fingertips around the back of his head as the butt of my hand rested just beside his mouth. His lips parted slightly and he licked them.

His hand moved down from my mouth and rested with his palm flat on my chest. His hand felt hot to me now, not clammy like it was when I shook it earlier. He smiled lightly with a very hungry look on his face. I smiled too. Minutes seemed to go by. We simply stood and stared at each other, he touching my chest and I lightly caressing his cheek. We were both powerless to break the contact. It was incredible. I inhaled and could hear a vibrato to my breath from the excitement. I felt embarrassed until I noticed Steven’s jaw trembling ever so slightly. He was as nervous and excited as I was. Then a knock came at the door and the magical moment was gone. Steven’s entire body immediately jumped at the fright and he looked frantic. 

"Everybody else is a no-show, so this one’s the last of the day," said my assistant Miranda, busting into the room without warning. 

Steven stepped back a foot or two, his eyes darting around the room frantically. He suddenly grabbed his bag and ran out without a word. My heart sank. I was frenzied, trying to figure out how I could run after him without Miranda being any the wiser. 

"What happened in here?" Miranda said, looking around. She didn’t seem to have noticed the intimacy I was sharing with Steven when she burst into the room, but rather seemed to be speaking of the wet mess on the floor.

"I don’t... I don’t know," I stammered. I looked at the empty can and clumps of tissue in the middle of the room. "He spilled his drink and... I don’t know. He just ran." 

Miranda acted like nothing had happened. "I’m gonna head out if you don’t mind." She turned and left the room without waiting for my answer.

"I can handle it," I said to no one quietly without taking my eyes off the floor.

I was trying to make sense of things. This incredible experience had just happened between Steven and I. We had connected with each other – found something exciting and important. And we had turned each other on, big time. Plus the fact that I was twenty-five years his senior –something that usually makes me self-conscious and feeling like a lecherous old man – left me feeling even hornier. My rock-hard cock was raging in my pants. I couldn’t ride home on the subway like that so I left the mess for the night janitor and headed to the bathroom for a wank.

I stood in front of the toilet and rubbed my cock through my khaki pants. It pulsed involuntarily as I unzipped, unbuckled and dropped my pants & underwear. My cock sprang up and the bathroom air felt cold and exhilarating on my heated erection. The tip of my dick was slathered in pre-cum. I rubbed my finger through it, wetting the tip, and brought the stuff to my face. I rubbed the slimy fluid on my upper lip, deeply inhaling the musk as I thought of Steven. The only person’s cum I’d allowed myself to eat for the last twenty or so years had been my own. And, as always, the taste of it sent me over the edge. I savored my salty juice as I rabbit-jacked my cock with the other hand. In seconds, my orgasm hit me like a tidal wave. Over my uncontrollable moans I heard plop after plop as my ejaculate blasted into the deepest water of the bowl. I raised myself up on my tiptoes and clenched my thighs and buttocks and my head became light. With a final "Aaaarrrrggghhh!" one last, huge string of jism splattered the wall next to the toilet tank. Panting, I grabbed the top of the stall to steady myself and tears of exertion clouded my vision. I lifted one final drop of cum from my cock hole and sucked it into my mouth, savoring the flavor of my own thick juice.

It was the best orgasm I’d had in recent memory. Not since I was a kid had I shot my load so quickly. And the sensation of being completely emptied of cum left my balls aching in a very satisfying way. I felt a tickle in the nerves on the underside of my scrotum as my plumbing rushed to re-supply my balls with seed. I bent over to grab my pants and my head felt dizzy. Damn! What had this boy done to me?! Although I felt great at having cum so hard and so fast, part of me felt alone and empty. This boy who’d spun my world upside down in five minutes ran out of my life just as quickly as he entered it. At least I’ll have weeks of fodder for my masturbatory fantasies, I thought.

Having put myself back together I left the bathroom for the hallway and ran smack head into Mike the janitor. 

"Oh, shit! Sorry, Mike!" I said.

Mike had a mop in his hand and the hallway floor was wet. Oh fuck, I thought, he must’ve heard me in there. My fears were confirmed when a devilish grin spread across the old bastard’s face.

"TGIF, huh Raf?" he said with a wink and he returned his attention to mopping the floor.

"Yeah, uh... have a good one Mike," I said rushing past him and down the hall. I grabbed my bag out of my office and headed out. As the main glass doors of the office closed behind me I imagined that old gray-haired pervert Mike kneeling beside the toilet and licking my jizz off the tile wall. I felt another tickle underneath my balls.

I hit the down button on the elevator and a "DING" immediately sounded. My lucky day, I thought. The elevators are so damned slow in the building it was rare for one to come so quickly. Ha! Come so quickly. I laughed thinking of my bathroom orgasm as I raised my hand to my nose and inhaled the remaining scent of my spunk. As the elevator doors opened I was pleasantly shocked to see Steven standing in front of me, still wet in spots with energy drink. He jumped a bit when he saw me but didn’t say anything. Neither did I. We just stood there for several seconds staring at each other. We both slowly smiled and the doors started to close.

I stuck my hand out to stop them and rushed into the elevator. I dropped my bag on the floor and grabbed Steven, lifting him up to my mouth and immediately kissing him. A dried film from the energy drink tasted sweet on his lips. He put his arms around my neck and opened his mouth with a groan. We were both in a frenzy. We passionately licked and chewed each other, mixing our saliva and exploring every inch of each other’s mouth. Steven wrapped his legs around my waist and I felt his hot, hard cock against my belly. I pushed forward, slamming him up against the wall. Steven pulled his mouth away from mine, buried his face in my neck and clutched me. We were both breathing fast and deep, as if we’d just ran a mile.

"Why did you run away from me?" I whispered, kissing him on the temple.

"I was scared. Scared of that woman, scared of what was happening." He continued to grind his hard cock into my stomach as he spoke. "Nothing like this has ever happened to me. I’ve never met anyone and just... just..."

"I know, I know. It’s okay. Me neither," I said into his ear. "I’m just glad you came back."

"Me too. I’m sorry I ran. But this was my first audition and here I was lusting after the man I wanted to hire me." He babbled now, as if a dam had broken and everything he wanted to say was spewing out all at once. As innocent and naïve as this made him seem, however, he never stopped grinding into me like a dog in heat. "You are so big and handsome and hot and I just freaked out, I guess, when..."

I shushed him. "I like you, too."

He pulled back a few inches and looked at me seriously for a moment. Then he lunged forward again, jutting his tongue into my mouth. Now it was I grinding my rock-hard erection against Steven. I had gone completely ape shit for this kid. I turned around and hit the emergency stop button with my fist. The elevator lurched once to a stop and the lights went out. In the darkness I could hear us both breathing. Steven clutched me harder. 

A moment later, a red emergency light blinked on. It was still pretty dark, but I could clearly see Steven’s eyes widen as I put him down onto his feet, grabbed his waist and slid down to my knees. I pressed my face into his crotch and moved my head from side to side. His cock was standing straight up, lying against his body under his pants. I looked up at him in time to see him mouth "Oh my God!" silently and lean his head back against the elevator wall. I undid the snap of his brown corduroys, unzipped him and dropped his pants. The little bugger wasn’t wearing any underwear! His cock couldn’t have been more than seven inches, but it looked huge on his small frame. He was uncut, and the head of his dick was poking out from the hood of his foreskin, wet and dripping. A fat ridge ran down the underside of his entire length. I reached out and touched it, moving the load of spew just beneath the skin from side to side with my finger. I put my hand on his abdomen and pulled his cock down and away from his body. The top of his dick was crisscrossed with veins that looked blue in the red light. I carefully peeled back his foreskin and licked the underside of his cock head. It, too, tasted sweet. He gasped.

With my other hand I cupped his balls. They hung low and were silky smooth. A nearly transparent carpet of light brown hair covered them. I moved my forefinger underneath and to the back of them and pressed against his taint as I took the entire length of his cock into my wet mouth.

"Ah! Ah! Aaaaahhh!" he said, nearly shouting. "Ah, Raf! Suck my dick!"

I gorged myself on his pole. I pulled as much saliva as I could into my mouth and drowned his cock in the hot wetness while I swirled my tongue around and beneath his pulsing head. I lunged down his length again, forcing the head of his cock through that last point of resistance at the base of my throat. When I felt his hard dick pop through and down into my esophagus, I massaged the base of his cock and his balls with the tip of my tongue.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" he growled. "Oh God, Raf. It’s so good! I never knew it could be so good!"

I pulled my mouth away from his cock long enough to ask, "Having sex in an elevator?" I gave the tip of his pole a playful lick and smiled.

"No," he said incredulously. "Having sex."

I gulped. Did he just say what I think he said? I couldn’t believe such a little hornball in heat had never gotten his cock sucked before! "Do you mean you’ve never had sex?"

He looked down at me, almost as if I’d hurt his feelings. "Why do you think I freaked out on you like that? You’re everything I ever dreamed of back in West Virginia. But I never met anyone that I could... well, that I knew was... you know!"

"Gay?" I said, almost impatiently.

"Well, yeah. You don’t know what it’s like. I mean I knew I was gay. But I didn’t know anyone else in my hometown that was. And my parents are so strict. I couldn’t try anything until I’d left home." He nearly pleaded, it seemed, hoping I wouldn’t be angry.




Auditioning Steven



Being angry was the farthest thing from my mind. My heart melted even more for this kid. I came from a tiny town, too, and the only place I ever had sex before college was a local rest stop I’d luckily stumbled onto one drunken night in high school. And then it hit me full-steam. This kid was a virgin. He’d never had sex. I had a golden opportunity hanging in front of my face and I couldn’t wait to take it whole-hog.

"Do you want to stop?" he asked me, obviously hoping I wouldn’t say yes.

"Hell, no!" I said, lunging again for his cock. It had softened just a bit and was slightly cool in my mouth. But I was a man with a mission and he was barely past puberty! In no time he was rock-hard and pulsing hot. I sucked on that cock fast and furious, like a madman, as I placed both my palms flat on his stomach and torso. I looked up and saw how huge my hands looked on his pale body. He looked down at me with those gorgeous blue eyes and pleaded with his tiny wet mouth. 

"Suck my dick, Raf. Oh God, suck my dick!" Steven’s stomach tensed suddenly and his thighs started shaking. His head arched back and the size of his cock puffed up so big it nearly choked me. The shaking of Steven’s thighs reached a fever pitch and then suddenly stopped. There was a beat of silence.

"I’m about to do it," he said quietly in his southern drawl. "Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!" he yelled as a dam burst in my mouth. Stream after stream of white-hot jism shot into the back of my throat. I put my arms around his waist and pulled his pelvis towards me, hugging him against my body and swallowing his cock. I could feel the thick, sticky goo continue to shoot down my throat as his body muffled my own moans of pleasure. He shook so hard I could hear the elevator cables clanging about outside.

"AH! AH! AH! AH!" he gasped breathlessly. His exclamations rose in pitch and weakened to a whimper as I pulled his cock out of the back of my throat and into my mouth. The little fucker’s dick was still shooting man juice, for Christ’s sake, and I loved it! He filled my mouth with a final shot of sperm as he eased himself a bit and settled into a calmer rhythm with his breathing.

"Oh," he said quietly as his cock fell out of my mouth with a plop. I slowly raised myself up. I could feel a tendril of jism dripping down my chin. Steven leaned up towards me and licked his cum off my mouth. I kissed him passionately, opening my mouth and sharing the load of spit and semen. He moaned, eating his own seed out of my mouth. He licked my tongue clean, swallowing every last drop.

"Tastes good," he said, smacking his lips and smiling.

"Yes it does!" I agreed, kissing him again and tasting his own juice in his mouth.

"I want to taste yours," he said.

"There’s plenty of time for that, my boy," I purred into his ear. "Come home with me," I said, hitting the STOP button again. The elevator lurched and restarted its decent with a whine. I knelt and grabbed the top of his trousers. He bent over to help.

"No, baby," I whispered. "Let me take care of you."

I zipped him up, snapped him and playfully grabbed his half-hard cock through his pants. He kissed me, softly and with a closed mouth this time. I reached around and pulled him off the ground once again as he wrapped his legs around me.

"I’d like that, Raf" he whispered.

Suddenly, the doors to the elevator opened with another "DING" and I heard a gasp. I spun us around and saw a Hispanic woman with a cleaning cart.

"Ah Dios mío!" she said, crossing herself. 

"Hola!" I said gaily, dropping Steven to his feet. He started to giggle as I grabbed my bag with one hand and pulled him out of the elevator with the other. We left the building laughing and headed to my apartment. But that’s a whole other story.



Auditions



Copyright Oggbashan April 2005

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. 

* * * * *

Three or four times a year a sign saying 'Auditions' used to appear at the entrance to an unmade track leading off a major road I used daily. It always seemed incongruous but I knew what it was about.

About half a mile down that track was a former farm building that was the base for a small mail-order company that sold protective wear, mainly for women. They imported and distributed hotel wear, café uniforms, care assistants dresses etc.

They had been producing illustrated catalogues once a quarter that they sent out to their customers. When they changed from using line drawings to photographs back in the 1960s they needed models to pose in the protective wear. All they wanted were normal women not fashion models or catwalk queens. The cost of hiring from commercial model agencies was too high for the purpose so they started to look for models themselves.

The first catalogue 'with real photographs' used their friends and families. After the next quarterly catalogue the friends and family said 'enough'. The work was boring and they weren't paid except for out-of-pocket expenses.

The Managing Director had a bright idea. Why not advertise locally for models and select some that would appreciate the work? He put an advertisement in the local paper and was surprised at the response. He had no idea that so many women wanted to be models.

He had so many applicants that he set up auditions. The normal access to his buildings was through a narrow street and trade vehicles were constantly moving. At the back of the buildings, with no access to the main entrance, there was a large paved area that could be a car park. The approach was down the farm track.

He asked a farmer friend to smooth the track's worst bumps and potholes. Then he specified that the potential models should come down the track. He would put a professionally painted sign at the road end of the track saying 'Auditions' and a large yellow arrow pointing up the track.

Some were deterred and thought something was odd. They didn't arrive. Those who did come were paid their expenses, had several photos taken in the items of protective wear, and were told that if the pictures were used they would get a fee. All those who attended the auditions were sent large sized proofs of the photos and a headed letter from the Managing Director thanking them.

Some of the models were able to use the photos to form a portfolio. Those whose pictures were used could claim that on their resume. If a model was particularly good the MD sent their details to a friend who was a model agency's rep in London. One in a hundred of the hopefuls got an audition in London.

It seemed to work well for the company and the potential models. It went on four times a year for nearly forty years. A handful of those auditioned had minor successes in London. Then it stopped when the MD decided to wind the company up when he retired. They had a large party for the retiring workforce and those who had been models over the years and all lived happily ever after. The workers left at the close were all retiring on pensions. Anyone young had been encouraged to move to other jobs months or years before the end. The buildings and stock were sold to another mail order company that lasted a couple of years before it folded.

And that was that. Until about three weeks ago. As I drove down the main road I saw the 'Auditions' sign again. It was freshly painted. So was the arrow. 

Over the next week I asked my contacts about it. No one knew anything except that an out-of-town company had bought the buildings at an auction.

A few days later I was attending an acquaintance's funeral. I took one of my friends back to our rural railway station to catch a train back to London. As his train arrived three young women got off it. I was not looking forward to returning to the funeral reception because I knew very few of the people who would be there.

It was so unusual to see three strangers at our station in the middle of the day that I stopped to see who would collect them. No one did. One of them came across to me.

"Excuse me," she said. "Where can we get a taxi?"

"A taxi?" I replied. "Taxis only come here by arrangement. Where were you going?"

"We've come for an audition to be models," She said.

My interest was aroused. I guessed that they were in their mid-twenties. They must be going to the old factory. I'd like to find out what was happening there. Anything would be more interesting than attending the rest of the funeral of someone I barely knew.

"Do you have directions?"

"Yes."

She opened her handbag and pulled out a letter. Enclosed was a map with the farm track highlighted.

"I can take you there," I said. "It's on my way."

"Are you sure?"

"You won't get there otherwise. The only taxi has to come from eight miles away and will charge you for those miles."

"Oh. We haven't got much money."

I could see that. They were dressed in the current youth fashions of short flared denim skirts, cropped T-shirts and white puffy jackets. All their clothes were cheap supermarket brands. 

"I'll make a deal with you," I suggested. 

They looked slightly startled and wary.

"Not THAT sort of deal," I added hurriedly. "I'm curious about these auditions. Locally we don't know anything about them."

They looked even more worried.

"If I take you there, I'd like to hang around and see what is happening. It is just curiosity. If you tell them that I'm your driver I can stay while you take the auditions. Afterwards I'll bring you back here. That means that you won't be stranded in the middle of nowhere and..."

"...and we'll have an escape route if things aren't what they should be?"

"Well, yes."

I felt almost old enough to be their father. I'm not, by a long way, but they seemed like townies stuck out in the rural wilderness they didn't understand.

The three of them went into a huddle for a few seconds.

"We accept. You can be our driver and hang around waiting for us. No peeking in on the auditions if we have to do partial nudity though."

"Agreed. I'll keep away if that is likely."

They climbed into my car and I started down the station approach.

"My name is Henry, normally called Harry," I said. "I'm local and have a business here."

"I'm Deborah, Deb," said the one who had been the spokesperson. 

"Hello, Deb."

"This is Amanda. She's my cousin. The other one is Sandra, Sandy, Amanda's flatmate."

"Hello Amanda and Sandy."

"Hello Harry," They chorused.

"Harry, why are you so curious?" Sandy asked.

I explained about the history of the protective wear company and their models and what had changed. All three of them asked questions as I explained.

"That sounded like a reasonable exchange between the models and the company," Deb said. "But that was then and now you know nothing about the new owners?"

"Nothing at all."

"Then we three will have to be careful."

"Yes."

"And you will be around if we want to leave?" Amanda asked.

"Yes."

"Thank you, Harry."

Amanda was beside me in the front passenger seat. She leant across and pecked me on the cheek.

We had arrived at the entrance to the farm track. The sign was clearly visible.

"This is it?" Deb asked.

"Yes. The track is half a mile long."

"I'm glad we came with you. If we'd come by taxi I think we'd go straight back to the station." 

I stopped the car just inside the track. I put on my best serious voice.

"Whether we go down this track is your decision. I can't advise you because I know nothing about the organisers of these auditions, if that is what they are. You are the ones taking the risk. What do you want to do?"

They whispered to each other. Sandy was unenthusiastic. The other two were not keen but intrigued. Eventually they agreed.

"We'll go on," Deb announced. "We'll be cautious and keep our options open. We trust you, Harry, even if we don't trust these auditions."

"OK."

I drove slowly and carefully until we reached the factory buildings. I had expected there to be more cars parked. There were only two, not local. One was a battered small red car with an overlarge exhaust. The other was a current model of a sleek executive saloon. I noticed some changes around the site since I was last here but the whole place looked neglected.

We got out and I locked the car.

"After you, ladies," I said, indicating the door marked 'Reception'. "I'm only your driver, remember?"

Deb led the way. Inside the door a woman I didn't recognise was sitting behind a battered desk. She was power-dressed in a well-cut skirt suit. The office was as shabby as I had remembered it and she looked out of place.

"Hello," she said, looking past the women at me. "Have you got your letters?"

Deb, Amanda and Sandy produced their letters and handed them over.

"Thank you. I'm Valerie and I'm one of the directors of our company. Who is he?"

"Our driver," Deb announced hurriedly. "He drove us here and will wait to drive us back."

"I see. We haven't got facilities for chauffeurs. I suppose he will just have to wait around either in here or in the car."

"How long?" asked Amanda.

"What do you mean?" Valerie replied.

"How long will he have to wait?"

"That depends on you three. If you are successful at the first part then it will take about three hours. If not, half an hour?"

Amanda looked at me. I nodded.

"OK. What happens now?"

"I take you through to meet my fellow directors. We take a few photographs and talk to you. Then we assess your potential and let you know whether you have passed the first part. Are you ready?"

I could see the three tense themselves.

"Yes," Deb answered for them.

The four women went through a door at the back of the office. I looked around, found an old magazine, and sat in a rickety chair to wait. If they were going to be three hours I might use Valerie's chair. It was the only modern item of furniture. The magazine kept me interested for about five minutes. I remembered that I had some books in the car. I went out to get one.

As I walked back to the office I looked at the differences from the last time I was here. Where the main entrance had been was now a high fence topped with barbed wire. The only entrance was now down the farm track. There had been a telegraph pole with telephone wires leading to most of the buildings. The pole and wires had gone. Was there any telephone connection?

Back in the office I saw that there was no telephone, no fax, not even a terminal block for a telephone. When Deb had shown me her letter the phone number given had been a mobile, not a landline. That hadn't seemed significant before. Now I was beginning to think that this was a fly-by-night operation. Why? What did they want the models for?

The back door of the office opened and a scruffy young man with a ponytail rushed through. He was tall but thin wearing worn jeans and a grey T-shirt.

"Stupid bitch!" he shouted back as he left. He climbed into the small red car and roared off down the track. I opened my book and began to read.

About twenty minutes later Amanda came back into the office. She was wearing a chambermaid's uniform, a dark blue dress, a small linen apron, dark stockings and sensible shoes.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Amanda." I had remembered that this one was Amanda.

"Did a young man come through here?"

"About twenty minutes ago. He drove off in a hurry. Why?"

"They want to do some still and video shots of us with a man. Now the only man has gone... Except you."

"Me? What sort of video?"

"They want some 'interesting' shots to show off some of their uniform ranges. They say that the old catalogue was too fuddy-duddy. They want to spice it up."

"Do they indeed? I can understand that they need to be a bit more adventurous but what do they mean by 'spicing it up'? Are you three happy with that?"

"That depends. We aren't sure. They have already paid our expenses and now they are offering a hundred pounds each for the next session."

"And a hundred pounds is a lot of money?"

"It is to us. Perhaps not to you. Without you we don't get the money."

"OK, Amanda. I'll listen to what they want and then ask you three whether you want to continue."

"Thank you, Harry."

She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek again. I enjoyed that. Amanda has a pleasant figure and it was a long time since I'd been hugged.

I winked at her.

"I'll just have to make a quick phone call to cancel an appointment. OK?"

Amanda didn't understand but she nodded. I went out to my car and rang a friend. I was back in the office in less than a minute.

"OK, Amanda, lead on."

Through the back door we walked down a long corridor. The paintwork was chipped and grimy. Through another door we entered a large room that had been the packing area. It was roughly partitioned into cubicles. One of the cubicles was set up with lights, video and still cameras. I followed Amanda into it.

The set was like a hotel room. The main item was a double bed with brass rails at the head and foot. Deb and Sandy were sitting on the bed dressed like Amanda. Valerie and two other women were standing beside the cameras. Another woman had her back to me, talking to Deb and Sandy. She turned round as we entered. She raised an eyebrow at me. I recognised Margaret, a local woman of my age. She was dressed in a simple white blouse and dark skirt. Her breasts, that I had frequently admired from a discreet distance, strained at the buttons of her blouse.

Margaret walked towards me. When her face was out of sight of the women by the cameras she held a finger to her lips.

"This is Harry," Amanda announced.

"Hello Harry," Margaret said as if she didn't know exactly who I was.

Valerie joined us.

"Harry, we want to show the uniforms off in a slightly sexy way. Do you think you could co-operate with the models?"

"I'll try, Valerie." I said. "I have no experience or training so you will have to direct me."

"I can do that."

Her tone seemed slightly threatening.

The first few poses seemed innocuous enough. I sat on the bed with each of the three women sitting on my lap. Each in turn showed their legs, wrapped their arms around me, rested a head against my shoulder and tried to look as if I was attractive to them. 

The next few shots showed more leg, their uniform dresses were unbuttoned to show some cleavage, and my tie was loosened.

Valerie clapped her hands.

"OK! Now for the video. Harry, the plot is like this. You sit at the table typing on the laptop. The three girls knock, come in and start to make the bed. You ignore them.

Behind your back they take off their aprons. They grab you, gag and bind you and push you on the bed. All you have to do after being tied up is to react to them. They know what they have to do. OK?"

"Yes," I said reluctantly.

"Then sit at the table and start typing."

I did. The laptop, a very old model, already had a new Word document open. I began to type the minutes of a recent committee meeting from memory. I had just got beyond those present and apologies for absence when Deb flipped her rolled apron over my head and into my mouth. She pulled me backwards. My hands flew up and were grabbed by Sandy and Amanda.

They dragged me off the chair. Amanda's apron tied my hands behind my back. Deb pushed me on to the bed. Sandy tied her apron around my ankles. The three of them covered me with their bodies as I pretended to struggle. They turned me onto my back. Deb straddled my upper chest.

One fixed video camera and two hand-held ones were recording this. One of the cameras closed in on my face close to Deb's legs. Deb moved forward towards my chin. I looked up at her. She had a stern expression on her face. She lifted the hem of her uniform's skirt to hold it tight across my mouth. My eyes opened wide in surprise.

I felt one of the others sitting down across my hips. Deb slid the dress up my face until I was concealed under it and inches from her panties. The white cotton panties moved to brush against my mouth and nose before I disappeared underneath her pantied pussy.

Another body straddled my legs. All three started pounding up and down on me. The bed creaked and groaned as they moved. I gasped for breath as Deb lifted herself.

"Faster!" Deb shouted. They were beginning to hurt me as their weight thumped down. My breath was forced from my lungs. I could only take short breaths in between.

"Cut!" I heard Valerie faintly. Deb lifted herself to her knees. I looked up at her stomach poised above me as I gasped for breath. The others climbed off. Deb moved down to rest gently across my hips.

"You all right, Harry?" she asked.

I looked up her body, past her heaving breasts, to her face. She looked genuinely concerned. I nodded. I didn't have enough breath to speak.

"Thank you," said Valerie. "That looked good. Now for the next scene. Are you ready Margaret?"

"Yes, Valerie."

"OK. Back in position, girls."

They swamped me again. Deb's panties lowered over my face gently.

"Action!"

I didn't know exactly what happened next because all I could see was Deb's panties. Suddenly she and the others climbed off. I blinked in the sudden light.

Margaret was standing a few feet from the bed with a large gun in her hand. She waved it at the women.

"Move!" she ordered. "Take off your stockings and panties."

The three started to object but complied as Margaret pointed the gun.

"You!" Margaret addressed Deb. "Tie their hands behind their backs with a stocking."

Deb did. I goggled helplessly. I wriggled on the bed to pretend to struggle with my bonds. 

"Simon, my delightful husband," Margaret said to me, "Keep still until I am ready for you."

Deb finished tying Amanda's and Sandy's hands.

"You two! Lie down on the floor. Face down!"

Amanda and Sandy obeyed.

"You!" To Deb. "Tie their ankles together and bend their legs. Tie the ankles to their hands."

Deb complied as Amanda and Sandy faked despair.

Margaret motioned to Deb to stand aside as she checked the bonds. Then she tied Deb's hands, pushed her to the floor beside the others, and hog-tied her to match. Finally she stuffed panties in each woman's mouth. They weren't their panties but perfectly clean ones that had been lying beside the bed out of camera view. Amanda, Deb and Sandy acted disgust and reluctance.

Margaret put the gun down on the table beside the laptop. She came towards the bed carrying a large plastic bag.

"Well, husband," she said, "You have got yourself into a predicament, haven't you? I knew you had a fetish for uniforms but being tied up with chambermaids' aprons is a bit weak even for you. I brought a uniform dress just to arouse you. When our divorce is heard next week you won't be able to claim that we haven't consummated our marriage recently. What a shame. That admission might cost you dearly."

I shook my head angrily. Margaret slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a white half-cup bra. My eyes were drawn to her exposed breasts as she eased herself out of her blouse. I didn't have to act my excitement when she unzipped her skirt and let it drop. A short white half-slip hinted at what was underneath.

Margaret took a dark blue dress from the carrier bag. She pulled it down over her head and fastened it up to her breasts. A wide, dark elastic belt with a silver buckle held it around her waist. A white nurse's cap on her head completed the outfit. 

She climbed on the bed and gradually moved up my body, displaying her breasts through the open top of the dress. She lifted her hands to the bed-head and lowered her cleavage towards my face. I liked Margaret. I had appreciated her breasts but never this close. I could feel my erection pressing against my trousers.