Wydawca: Olympia Press Kategoria: Obyczajowe i romanse Język: angielski Rok wydania: 2015

Uzyskaj dostęp do tej
i ponad 25000 książek
od 6,99 zł miesięcznie.

Wypróbuj przez
7 dni za darmo

Ebooka przeczytasz w aplikacjach Legimi na:

e-czytniku kup za 1 zł
tablecie  
smartfonie  
komputerze  
Czytaj w chmurze®
w aplikacjach Legimi.
Dlaczego warto?
Czytaj i słuchaj w chmurze®
w aplikacjach Legimi.
Dlaczego warto?
Liczba stron: 202

Odsłuch ebooka (TTS) dostępny w abonamencie „ebooki+audiobooki bez limitu” w aplikacji Legimi na:

Androida
iOS
Czytaj i słuchaj w chmurze®
w aplikacjach Legimi.
Dlaczego warto?

Ebooka przeczytasz na:

e-czytniku EPUB kup za 1 zł
tablecie EPUB
smartfonie EPUB
komputerze EPUB
Czytaj w chmurze®
w aplikacjach Legimi.
Dlaczego warto?
Czytaj i słuchaj w chmurze®
w aplikacjach Legimi.
Dlaczego warto?

Pobierz fragment dostosowany na:

Zabezpieczenie: watermark

Opis ebooka Screen Test Swap - Curt Aldrich

Big house, money, influence... this aging star had everything going for her--everything except for Steve, that was. When you're a 23-year-old Hollywood hopeful, and you want to make a career, you do everything the movie queen asks. Particularly if she wants you to go down for her!

Opinie o ebooku Screen Test Swap - Curt Aldrich

Fragment ebooka Screen Test Swap - Curt Aldrich

Table of Contents
Screen Test Swap
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12

Screen Test Swap

Curt Aldrich

This page copyright © 2009 Olympia Press.

1

The mere fact that Susan Arthur dropped to her knees in front of him and began energetically sucking his prick didn't convince J. Abraham Blomberg that he should offer her the lead in his forthcoming film. As one of Hollywood's leading independent producers, he'd had his cock sucked—and fucked—by a considerable number of ambitious young females, so it wasn't such a big thing.

But you wouldn't have known that to look at him standing there in front of his desk with his bone sticking out through the fly of his trousers while Susan's encircling mouth glided up and down on the spit-slickened column. The short, bald, bespectacled man grimaced with pleasure and rocked forward and back, gently jabbing his prick in and out of the O formed by the pink lips of the young blonde.

She reached into his pants and took hold of his balls, gently massaging the semen-laden testicles, coaxing them to give up their product.

Finally, no longer able to control himself, his balls expelled their juice. The thick slimy fluid spurted into Susan's throat and slid down as she gulped. She continued to fellate the man as he twitched and groaned, ejaculating all the cum he had, and she swallowed every drop.

As his prick softened and it became clear that he was through, she let the ropelike length of meat slip out of her mouth and slide down across her chin. She caught it in her hand so as to protect his expensive trousers from becoming soiled, and she carefully restored the penis to his clothes.

She rezipped his fly and smiled up at him. “There,” she cooed softly, “how was that?”

“Very good, my dear,” he said, heaving a gratified sigh. He beamed. “Would you like a drink now? A different type of drink, I mean.” He chuckled.

“That would make a good chaser,” she said, and smiled as she stood up.

They walked to the well-stocked bar which was discreetly concealed by a panel at the side of his office, and he poured two double Scotches.

“You were going to tell me how my screen test turned out, Mr. Blomberg,” the girl remarked casually.

“Aah, yes. Well, my dear, the news is very good. You are a talented actress, and I like your personality. You are right for the film. So the leading part is yours, provided we can agree on the terms.”

Susan was very happy. “I'm sure we'll have no trouble about that,” she said smilingly.

They touched glasses.

A cynic, listening to this exchange after watching what had preceded it, would have concluded that the fellatio had won Susan the part. Perhaps she believed that herself. But the fact was that Blomberg spoke the truth—she was a talented actress; he did like her screen personality, and she was right for the part. He had been prepared to offer it to her even before she got down on her knees in front of him. But that certainly hadn't hurt her chances. It was nice to know she was willing to play, and so good at it.

After they finished their drinks, he notified his legal department to draw up a contract, and other wheels were set in motion. The studio gossips began to buzz.

That evening, the buzz reached the restaurant where Kendis Lorraine was dining with her agent. It arrived in a particularly upsetting way, from the lips of none other than Theodora Skelton, who wrote the nation's most widely syndicated gossip column.

“Tell me, Kendis,” the black-haired, bird-faced Theodora asked, affecting her most unctuous smile and syrupy tone, “is it true that the lead in Abe Blomberg's new film is going to a newcomer?”

Kendis was shocked, but she didn't show it. She returned Theodora's smile with an equally unctuous one of her own. “Why, I really don't know, darling. Why don't you ask Abe?”

“I have, dear. He isn't talking... yet. But I have it on good authority, from someone in his studio, that a girl named Susan Arthur has the part.”

“Well, I wish her luck,” Kendis said.

“You're not disappointed? Kendis, I thought you were counting on that part yourself.”

Kendis cut the other woman down with her blue-gray eyes. “Fortunately, I occupy a position in this industry where I don't have to count on any particular part. I always have more offers than I can possibly accept.”

“I seeee. Well, thank you, darling. So nice to run into you. Ta.”

Hie scrawny columnist winged off.

Kendis turned to the nervous little man who sat beside her. “Well?” she snapped.

“S-so help me, Kendis, I haven't h-heard a thing,” Izzie Ruben stammered. He always did that when he was on the spot. “The la-last time I talked with Abe, he acted as if eh-everything was all set.”

“Call him.”

“Now? It's p-pretty late. You know producers don't like to be b-bothered by phone calls at home.”

“Call him, you mother-fucker,” she said, using a soft and perfectly even tone. Her beautiful though somewhat time-worn face continued to display the look of serene self-possession which she always radiated in public.

Izzie blanched. “Y-yeah... okay...” He wiped his mouth, got up from the table, and scurried away.

Kendis continued with her late supper, though her digestive processes had all but stopped. Another acquaintance dropped by, and they chatted as if nothing had happened.

Izzie returned right after the other person left.

“It's t-true,” he said sorrowfully as he slid into the booth. “He was g-going to call you in the morning.”

“I want to get out of here,” she said simply.

“But you haven't f-finished your meal.”

“Fuck the meal. Attend to the check, and I'll meet you outside.”

She got up and made a regal, smiling exit from the room. But behind her outward facade, she was livid with rage.

Abe, you sonofabitch, she thought, wait until I see you!

When she emerged from the restaurant, Steve Raymond jumped to attention. “Yes, Miss Lorraine. Just a moment, please. I'll have your car right here.”

He took off on a trot. She watched his tall, white-coated figure as he ran between the rows of parked cars. He was a very handsome chap with his long blond hair and Nordic features.

Izzie moved up behind her. “A-are they getting your car?” he asked anxiously.

“Yes.” Inside she was taut as an overwound spring.

“Kendis, I'm s-sorry. B-but you know how these th-things are.”

“I know how Abe is... now. Just let that bastard ask me to read another fucking script of his.”

“K-Kendis...”

“Oh, shut up.”

Steve brought her white Rolls to a stop in front of the doorway of the restaurant. He jumped out and hurried around the car to hold the door on the passenger side.

He grinned at her a bit shyly. “Here you are, Miss Lorraine.”

She moved forward and stopped directly in front of him. She fixed his blue eyes with her cool blue-gray gaze. “Come home with me,” she said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Come home with me,” she repeated, and gave him a little smile.

Izzie, who was standing beside them, winced inwardly.

Steve still couldn't believe he'd heard right, but the sounds had come through very distinctly. So he grasped for a rational meaning. “You want me to drive you?”

She laughed. “You're charming—do you know that?”

He colored and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, thank you, Miss Lorraine...”

“Tell your boss that you're leaving,” she directed. “If he gives you an argument, tell him I said it's all right.”

“B-but...”

The smile slowly faded from her face. “Wouldn't you like to spend the night with me?”

Izzie suffered another internal pang. How could she cheapen herself this way?

Steve stared at her. Then he croaked, “Yeah...! Yeah, damned right!” He took off at a lope, heading for the boss of the parking lot.

“What a peasant,” she said gently, but with an ill-concealed sense of superiority.

“Don't do this, Kendis,” Izzie said, though he knew it was futile.

“Get out of here,” she told him, as she continued to stare at Steve. He was talking earnestly with his boss at the small office of the lot.

Without a word, Izzie turned and walked toward the street where a taxi waited. I'd hate to be in that kid's shoes, he thought. She's going to really put him through a wringer!

“The bathroom's in there,” Kendis said, when she and Steve arrived in her bedroom. She pointed toward a door which stood ajar.

Steve's mind boggled as he gazed around at the magnificent bedroom, one entire wall of which was devoted to a mirror made of rose-shaded antique glass. There were opulent draperies, a huge bed on a raised platform, and a white rug that was so deep and soft he seemed to sink into it up to his ankles. The lighting was indirect and very flattering.

“By the time you come out of the shower,” she said, “I'll be ready.”

“Yeah... okay...” He moved numbly into the bathroom.

Surprisingly enough, he and Kendis hadn't yet touched. On the way to her luxurious Brentwood home, she'd hardly spoken to him, and he hadn't known what to say.

It was fantastic to believe that he was about to bed the great Kendis Lorraine, sex symbol to an entire generation of movie-goers. As long as twelve years ago, when Steve was a kid in elementary school, he'd gone to see her pictures. Those old films still showed frequently on TV. As he came into manhood, she was his first crush. After seeing her on the screen of his local theater, he would lie in bed and finger his young, stiff prick as he fantasized fucking her. Now he was actually going to fuck her. Amazing!

At twenty-one, he was no longer the callow youth he'd been in those days. He'd had experience with a number of girls, both at home in Des Moines and since he'd migrated to Hollywood in search of an acting career. Moreover, he'd seen and spoken with many celebrities since he'd gone to work as a parking attendant at the posh restaurant. But none of the famous females had made a play for him before tonight.

Kendis wasn't the sexpot she'd been a few years ago. She had to be in her middle thirties by this time, and it showed. But still she was an attractive woman. And age aside, the prospect of becoming intimate with someone so famous and sought-after for so many years turned Steve on.

As he stood in the huge shower stall and soaped his cock, the member grew stiff and throbbing in his hands. It stood out and upward, raising its proud head against the pelting spray. His cock was long, befitting his lanky build.

By the time he'd rinsed himself off and stepped out of the stall, his hard-on had gone down, but he knew it would snap to instant attention again at the first sight of Kendis in the nude.

He dried himself on the thickest, largest, most luxurious towel he'd ever seen. Then he looked around. He realized for the first time that he had nothing to wear when he reentered the bedroom, unless he wanted to put his sweaty clothes back on. That would be foolish, he decided.

Well, he could wrap the towel around himself. But why should he do even that? Kendis had invited him up here to lay her, hadn't she? Why shouldn't he walk out there as if he was ready to do it?

The thought added further excitement to his already highly stimulated state. He was proud of his body, and he particularly enjoyed showing it off to girls.

“Hey, are you about ready?” Kendis called to him through the door.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Just about.”

“Well, come on out.”

Tightening with anticipation, he reached out for the doorknob, turned it, and opened the door. He stepped forth.

Kendis was standing in the center of the room, her voluptuous figure draped in a sexy, black see-through negligee. He could make out the rosy caps of her surging, round tits and, even more stimulating, the dark furry triangle at her loins. The latter proved what he had assumed—that she wasn't a real blonde.

His cock twitched... then rose.

Kendis watched it, her eyes narrowing, her breath coming quicker. He certainly was well-hung and eager. But she hoped he wasn't the type who would be in too much of a hurry. Some of these young peasants had trouble holding back when they got with her.

“Let's go to bed,” she purred, and stepped up to the side of the huge workbench.

He followed with his cock sticking out and upward. She'd seemed pleased with it, he'd noted. Well, what female wouldn't have been? It consisted of eight straight inches of bone-hard flesh, with a huge, bulging knob at the end. There was enough to please the hottest, most passionate woman. He had the feeling that Kendis was pretty hot.

She lay back the bed covers and said, “Get in.”

He did, sliding between satin sheets. What a feeling of luxury that gave him!

She stood and smiled down at him faintly. She'd forgotten her disappointment earlier in the evening. This was what it took to make her forget. Only this. Nothing else would have sufficed—not booze, not grass, not pills.

She touched a button beside the bed. The lights in the room dimmed, so that there was only a faint romantic glow, rosily tinged, permeating the room. She took off her negligee.

Steve gazed up at her lush nudity, and his cock throbbed against the sleek sheet which covered him. He found it difficult to think of her as an “older woman” now. Her tits were rich, ripe bulbs which surged forward. (He'd screwed eighteen-year-olds whose knockers hung more.) Her belly was a gentle undulation crowned by a dimple which invited his tongue. Her fluffy pelt was thick; the hairs were mostly straight, and they grew in all directions.

He slid over and folded back the sheet for her. He still didn't say anything; he didn't know what to say.

She didn't mind his reticence. In fact, she rather liked her men that way. It suggested that they would take orders well.

She climbed into bed, sliding down next to him. “We don't need the sheet, I believe,” she said, and tossed it over the foot of the bed.

His cock angled up and backward, standing above his belly. A pearl of clear moisture oozed from its slit and clung at the orifice.

“By the way, what's your name?” she asked, and laughed gently.

“Steve.”

“Well, Steve... why don't you kiss me up and down a little? I dig kissing.”

He turned to her and hesitated for a moment as he drank in her mature beauty. He gazed at that fabulous face which he'd seen so many times on the theater and TV screens. Then he dug in.

She gave a little squeal and lifted her arms around him as he mashed his mouth down onto hers. Her tongue flickered into his mouth like a flame. He kissed her hotly, his tongue stabbing, rubbing. He felt the pillows of her breasts yielding pneumatically to the weight of his torso. The tips of her nipples were hard as little stones.

He left her mouth open and panting as he moved downward, kissing her chin, then her throat, and finally the luscious rises of her tits, which were tanned and tawny gold all over. He nipped at a nipple, seizing it briefly between his lips, then letting it go. It danced on the crest of her rich boob. He went to the other one and gave it a lick with his moist, abrasive tongue.

“Ooh, yes... yes... yesss!” she panted.

He drew the thick, tall nipple up into his mouth and sucked it wetly. He laved it with his tongue. She shuddered with delight, causing her titty to shake against his face. He filled a hand with her other squishy, silk-skinned breast and squeezed it repeatedly as he sucked the first one.

She reached and gripped the flesh-post that hung forward from his crotch. God, it was hard! He was obviously enjoying this... and so was she!

He backed up further and began to kiss her smooth, gently twisting belly. She ruffled his long sun-bleached hair. He was well-tanned all over, except for a swath across his hips.

Her tan ended just above her lovely bush, and he kissed down to that line. His head was light. He moved to a thigh, lifting it and kissing its very smooth, soft inner slope. He eyed her pussy sideways.

Watching him, she moved her legs well apart. The puffy outer lips of her cunt parted to reveal the slick pink flesh within. Her clit was erect, beckoning him.

But he didn't elect to kiss her there. His cock was pounding with lust, and he wanted to thrust it deep into her crevice and feel her squirm around him.

He started to mount her.

“Hey... wait a minute...” she breathed, and gave a little laugh. “Is that all I get?”

He looked at her through hot eyes. “I want you... now,” he said.

Her domineering instinct flared, and her voice hardened as she said, “Well, buster, I want something else.”

These Hollywood broads! he thought. She wasn't the first of this type that he'd been with, but she was certainly the boldest in announcing her demands.

Okay. He would lap it for her. Why not? It would give him just that much more to remember... and to talk about, if he happened to feel like it. It wasn't every guy who could say that he'd tasted such a famous twat.

He snuggled down between her thighs, and she lifted her legs to place her feet on his shoulders. This tilted her pussy up just right. He used his thumbs to open its plushy gates. Her hooded clit pointed at him challengingly, and the pink mouth of her vagina came unstuck, the lips around it flaring forward.

He breathed in the erotic scent of perfume and cunt. His head grew lighter. His cock throbbed more.

Bowing to her demands, he stuck out his tongue and lapped it gently up and down across her clit, wiggling the pliant folds of flesh.

She began to breathe harder. He could hear it. Her hips gave a little jerk. He held his tongue right against the tip of her clitty and felt it vibrate.

“Uuuuh... ooooooooooh...” she whimpered.

He enclosed her clitoris between his sucking lips and drew on it gently as he tongue-brushed its tip.

“Uuuh!” she grunted. Her hips heaved, and he lost his hold.

He plowed his tongue deeper into her meat and was completely surrounded by her slippery, salt-tasting labia. Her moisture dribbled onto his tongue. He slurped it up.

Whining and crying, she revolved her hips and pressed her wet cunt against him. His tongue dived full-length into her hot hole.

“Go!” she cried. “Tongue-fuck me! Give me a lot!”

He pumped his tongue in and out of her palpitating cunt-hole. He felt its encircling muscles grab at him. He fluttered his tongue up across her clit again, then bored down on the sensitive little button—sucking, tonguing, and nibbling.

“That's it!” she cried. “Get it... ooh, get it!” Her tone turned passionately vicious. “Lick it, you bastard! Eat it! Ooh, shit... you mother-fucker... shit!”

He surged forward atop her. Whining urgently, she gripped his cock and aimed it into her channel. He jammed it forward and down, sinking into her all the way, and the wildest thrill went through him, like none he'd ever had in his life. He had nailed Kendis Lorraine—actually nailed her with his cock!

He wallowed on her belly, his knees digging for purchase against the satin sheet. It was difficult, but his flailing foot found that the bed was old-fashioned enough to have a board running along its end, and he pushed against that. Now his balls were pressed against her, and her wet cunt-lips were around the very base of his pole.

“Fuck me... fuck me!” she cried, tearing at his broad back with her nails.

Babe, are you going to get it! he thought, and he went to work. He stroked his hard cock deeply in and out, nearly withdrawing each time he pulled back. This long gliding motion titillated all her vaginal nerve endings, and thrilled his cock from the root to its tip. He drove it in harder, really slamming his belly against hers.

“Ooh... God!... oooooooh!” she howled.

This was bliss. It was what she'd wanted. It knocked all the bitterness and frustration out of her while jacking her tension toward an imminent release.

She pumped with him, socking as hard as he did. She wailed and scratched and tossed her head. Her blonde hair whipped across the pillows.

Their organs sloshed noisily together. She felt the juice pouring out of her cunt and down her crotch to tickle her asshole.

“Ooh, you fucker!” she screamed. “You big fat fucker!”

He growled and bopped her more fiercely. Shit, what a ride! Her belly was bobbing beneath him, and her hot, sliding cunt worked on his prick like a greased velvet glove—grabbing, gliding, twisting, milking. He'd never had it so good.

“Take it... take it!” he yelled, and he fucked as fast as his hips would move.

“Uuuuuh... uuuh... uuuuuuuuh!” she keened in a rising crescendo. And then she had it. “OOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

Her belly bounced, and her cunt rippled. She heaved and sobbed. Her fingernails sank into his flesh and she clung to his belly, her gulping pussy upturned as he pressed deep and let go, flooding her with his warm juice, pumping and pumping, giving her all the jism his balls had stored up.

All the tension drained from her. She could feel it flowing out of her muscles and nerves, relaxing her brain, setting her whole being at ease.

With a blissful, sigh, she relaxed against the bed, and he came to rest atop her.

2

After a while, he sat up. “Hey, that was pretty great!” he said cheerfully.

She watched him through narrow eyes. Already, tension was beginning to build again within her.

“Want a drink?” she offered.

“I feel like goin' to sleep,” he said with a contented chuckle, stretching out beside her. “Don't tell me you're a one-time man?” He glanced at her sideways. “One time's enough, if it's good.”

“It isn't enough for me,” she said flatly.

Put on your pants and get out of here, a little voice told him.

But she'd invited him for the night, and the idea of sleeping in her bed appealed to him. Also, he didn't want to offend her. A word from her to his boss would get him fired.

“I guess I'll be able to go again in a little while,” he said.

“Young as you are, you ought to be able to go again right away,” she countered, and she reached over to place her hand on his cock and balls.

A little tremor went through him, and as she began to fondle his slack privates, excitement built. But his prick didn't immediately turn hard.

She got up on her knees and leaned across him, dangling her tits above his face. He raised his hands, took hold of her boobs, and wiggled them. She maneuvered a nipple between his parted lips. He sucked.

“Mmmmmmmmmm!” she said, and shook her tits gently.

He squeezed and pulled at them. He went from nipple to nipple, sucking and nibbling.

Finally she straddled him and backed up, rubbing her pussy along his middle and across his intimate parts. She noted that his prick was firming. She pressed her moist split against it and rotated her hips just enough to give him an exhilarating massage.

“Hey... wow...!” he said. “That's all right!”

She turned around and straddled him the other way. He gazed at her lush ass as she shoved it toward his face. He stroked the rubbery mounds of her buttocks, then her full thighs which were quite firm.

He gazed at the hairy twat hanging down, and the brown, puckery asshole that winked at him as he wiggled her butt.

She backed up more, and it appeared to him that she wanted to engage in a full sixty-nine. The idea wasn't too appealing right now, with her box chockful of his cum, but he wanted her to go down on him, so he guessed he could put up with the other.