By Lisabet Sarai
Our
topic for the next two weeks is “Naughtiness”. Oh my! I expect
this will be great fun.
Most
of my stories are a bit too serious to be called naughty, but this
one is an exception. Warning – this is triple-X rated! But light
enough that (I hope) it will make you smile as well as squirm.
The
Interview
By
Lisabet Sarai
"What
are you doing?" Fascinated, Tim watched me wriggle out of my
panties and stuff them into the potted plant beside the door.
"Intuition.
I have a feeling that we're more likely to get this job if I arrive
sans underwear."
"Lisa,
you've got an overactive imagination."
"Oh,
yeah? 'Attractive, sociable couple wanted for care-taking,
housekeeping and related duties'. Sounds to me like they have
more in mind than just trimming the shrubbery and making sure they
don't run out of paper goods."
"Well,
maybe..." Tim looked worried, but I noticed his fly was bulging.
"Where are they, anyway? It's three, isn't it?"
"Ten
past. Why don't you ring again?"
We
heard the bell through the door, then silence. A breeze lifted my
dress and caressed my freshly-shaved pussy. I shivered with
excitement.
Tim's
hands clenched and unclenched as we continued to wait.
"Relax,
baby."
"Maybe
this isn't such a good idea. It's not the seventies anymore, but
Roger Myers and Tess Montoya are still notorious. Life in the fast
lane. Hard liquor, hard drugs, kinky sex..."
"Sounds
okay to me..."
"Come
on, Lisa. We couldn't handle that kind of life."
"Better
than student loans and sky-high West LA rents. This could be our
chance to get out from under." I stroked his growing hard-on. "I
know you're nervous, but you're just as curious as I am. Full room
and board, a decent salary and a Bel Aire address - what do we have
to lose?"
He
began to object. I cut him off with a deep kiss. He couldn't help
responding. He thrust his tongue down my throat, cupped my butt, and
pulled me tighter. My dress rode up. I ground my bare pubes against
the lump in his trousers. I didn't care about the wet spot I was
making on the khaki. I just wanted more, more of his familiar musky
smell, more of his mouth, more of the electricity that sparked up my
spine whenever my clit mashed against his body.
"Mr.
and Mrs. O'Connor?" Hastily we separated, still breathing
heavily.
"Mr.
Myers?" The man in the doorway seemed unfazed by our disarray.
"Roger,
please. Sorry to keep you waiting. Come in."
The
bad boy film director had aged well. His wild curls were
silver-frosted, but the hair on his muscular torso was still jet
black. He wore nothing but loose cotton pants—that was obvious from
his jutting half-erection. He looked distinguished, mature, and
dangerously sexy.
His
hazel eyes brimmed with laughter. I couldn't help smiling back.
"Thanks, Roger. I'm Lisa, and this is Tim."
"Delighted."
He gave me the once-over, not trying to disguise his interest. My
cheeks and my pussy both grew hot. "Leave your shoes in the
foyer, if you don't mind."
The
house was blissfully cool. Roger led the way across terracotta tiles
and silk carpets. The varying sensations seemed to travel from my
bare feet to my bare sex.
"Tess
is by the pool." Roger gestured at the bar. "Can I get you
something to drink?"
"Just
water for us," said Tim.
"Honey,
can you bring me another scotch?" came a throaty voice from the
patio.
"Sure
thing, darling. I'll have one too." Roger grinned at me again,
while Tim mouthed "I told you so".
Tim
emerged from the dimness onto the bright patio before I did. He
stopped short. At first I thought he was temporarily blinded. Then I
understood.
The
lady of the house reclined on a chaise. She was not quite naked, but
her diaphanous robe hid none of her famous charms: ripe breasts
tipped with fat maroon nipples, heart-shaped buttocks, voluptuous
thighs. Between those thighs grew a curly auburn thatch that matched
the rich waves of hair trailing down her back.
Tess
Montoya was a natural redhead.
"Hello,"
she purred, sitting up and extending her hand. "Welcome. We're
so glad that you two are interested in the job."
Tim
remained transfixed. I tried to cover the awkwardness. "Hello,
Ms. Montoya..." Her skin was silky. She smelled of gardenias
with a salty tang underneath.
"Please,
no formality here. I'm Tess, and you're..."
"Lisa,
Lisa O'Connor. This is my husband Tim." Finally overcoming his
inertia, Tim stepped over to Tess' chair.
"Hello,
Tim." Tess smiled and reached for him. Not for his hand, but for
his fly, distorted by his huge erection. "Why don't you make
yourself comfortable?" Deftly, she unzipped him. His eager cock
sprang out. "Mmm, how lovely," Tess grazed her
scarlet-painted thumbnail over the taut bulb. Tim closed his eyes. My
nipples tightened in sympathy. "May I?"
She
didn't wait for an answer. Leaning over, she pursed her sensual lips
around the engorged tip, then licked up the moisture oozing from the
slit while Tim moaned. "Oh, delicious!" She slipped from
the chaise onto her knees in front of him and swallowed his whole
rod.
Tim
groaned and jerked forward, slamming his prick down Tess' throat. She
seemed to welcome the invasion. She sucked and slurped voraciously at
his flesh while my husband writhed. "Oh God, yes... oh,
please..."
I
watched, fascinated, as she took him higher. I love giving Tim head,
but I'd never seen his face during a blow job. His fingers tangled in
Tess' rich hair, holding her while he fucked her mouth. It must have
hurt, but she clearly loved it.
Her
spread thighs were slick with her juices. I could see beads of
moisture clinging to her pussy-fur. I was soaked and aching myself.
I
felt heat behind me. Practiced hands lifted my skirt and stroked my
bare ass. "She's still a hot little tart, isn't she?" Roger
murmured in my ear. His fingers traveled between my thighs, finding
my swollen clit. I squirmed against him as lightning shot through
me.
"Quite
a bit like you. No panties, for a job interview?" One of his
fingers slid into my sopping cunt, then two. "Naughty, aren't
you?"
I
gasped for breath, bucking against his hand. "I... we..."
He pinched my clit between finger and thumb; I squealed at the
intense pleasure. "Don't worry, darling. You two are exactly
what we're looking for."
Suddenly
he was on his knees, holding my butt cheeks apart. He licked my slit
back to front, then nuzzled my clit. I shuddered with pleasure,
arching back to give him deeper access. He took what I offered,
lapping, probing, bathing my folds in hot saliva, until I could
barely stand.
All
at once he pulled back, and stabbed his tongue into my asshole. The
shock nearly sent me over the edge. He licked around that tight
opening, then slipped in a finger with surprising ease.
"Ooh..."
"Do
you like that? Do you like taking it in the ass?" He wriggled
his finger inside my rear hole, slid partway out, and then plunged in
again. "Want my cock here, in your tight little butt?"
Overcome
by sensation, I couldn't answer. Tess replied instead.
"How
about a D.P., honey? Dear Tim is still rock-hard."
Tim!
I had totally forgotten. He must be upset. But no, he was wearing a
grin a mile wide as he lay down on the chaise and beckoned me over. I
sighed with pleasure as his familiar bulk stretched my hungry cunt.
Roger
was fingering my ass again. He slathered something slippery inside.
The bulb of his cock pushed against my taut ring of muscle. I clamped
down reflexively on Tim's flesh until he moaned.
"Relax,
Lisa... trust me." There was a blinding stab of pain as Roger
impaled me. Then as he moved slowly inside my ass, the pain
transformed into a dark pleasure that threatened to overwhelm me.
I
was full, my holes stuffed with cock, fucked front and rear like some
slut in a porn flick. I loved it. Closing my eyes, I focused on the
incredible sensations raging in my cunt and ass. It wouldn't be
long, I knew, before we all exploded. I didn't want it to end.
I
smelled the ocean. Tess straddled the chaise, her pussy inches from
my face. She didn't need to say anything. I buried my face in her
ripe cunt, sucking on her clit and feeling the results in my own.
We
grappled together, the four of us, thrashing wildly as the intensity
became too much to bear. Roger slammed into my bowels. Tim arched up
to meet his thrusts. I was ground to a helpless pulp of pleasure
between them.
I
bit hard on Tess's clit and she tumbled over the edge, spasming
against my lips. Roger roared and spewed his come all over my back.
Then my Tim swelled and burst inside me. And finally, finally, my own
climax took me, whirling through my body, dashing me senseless,
leaving me raw and blissfully shattered on Tim's chest while he
stroked my hair.
When
I opened my eyes, he was smiling. "We got the job," he
whispered.
I
kissed him tenderly. "Life in the fast lane, baby."
Smile, squirm, smile, squirm, smile, smile, squirm, squirm smile.....yesssss...
ReplyDeleteThought you'd like it, Daddy!
DeleteWay to set the bar high on the first shot, Lisabet! I can't wait to read all of the other authors' blogs on this topic!
ReplyDeleteOr low...!!
DeleteDefinitely a high bar. All the bases covered...or almost all. Hmmm...
ReplyDeleteThere was a 1500 word limit on this. No room for M/M....!
DeleteThis piece is a lot of fun, especially for those of us who haven't lived in the fast lane! (Though the exact definition of that lane varies from person to person. I've sometimes been told I was living fast when I was a call girl in the early 1980s. I usually point out that I was selling sex in Saskatchewan, mostly to divorced wheat farmers who liked beer -- not to Hollywood stars on cocaine.) Great start to the new topic.
ReplyDelete"selling sex in Saskatchewan" - now there's a great title!
DeleteI never lived in the fast lane, either -- wouldn't really want to. It's defined, for me, by the Eagles song: "Everything, all the time". But it makes a fun (and naughty) fantasy.
Hi Lisabet!
ReplyDeleteI smelled the ocean. Oh - that is such a great line in this context, I wantto steal it. I'm kind of glad I was so latereading this, I would have been intimadated. This is old school getting it on. I like it.
Gare