There was no getting away from it. Even the simplest, most mundane
household activity, such as washing the dishes, was charged with erotic
promise. Susana finished wiping the last dinnerplate, slipped it into
the cupboard, and pressed up against Peter’s back, pinning him to the
sink as he swabbed out the bowl. She stuck a finger in his ear, then
snaked her left arm around his chest and fingered his fly with her right
hand. “I want to fuck,” she said. “Come to bed.” Peter grinned, wrung
out the dishcloth and turned to take her in his arms. His hands dug into
her buttocks as he pulled her to him and bent to kiss her, and she could
feel him hardening against her belly. She stepped back, took his hand
and led him out of the kitchen.
Neil was sitting at the dining table, sorting out papers for a
departmental meeting in the morning. Susana shooed Peter into the master
bedroom, stepped over to the table and ruffled Neil’s hair. He looked up
and she kissed him on the forehead. “We’re going to bed,” she told him.
“Wait up for me.” She brushed his lips with her fingertips, then
followed Peter into the bedroom and shut the door. Neil shivered,
shrugged and returned to work. Five minutes later the door opened and
she was back, still fully dressed, with the video camcorder in her hand.
“Have we got a blank tape? He wants to film us doing it.”
Neil pushed back from the table, got up and went to the bookcase, found
a still-sealed Video 8 cassette and peeled off the wrapping. “There’s a
fully charged battery in the wardrobe,” he said, as he handed her the
tape. “You’ll need both the bedside lamps for extra light.” Susana took
the tape and kissed him on the lips. “Thanks,” she said. “You can watch
it, later.” She winked at him, stepped back into the bedroom and closed
the door again. Neil went back to his papers. A few minutes later the
door opened once more. “We need a cameraman,” she said.
Neil shoved his papers aside, got up and walked past her into the
bedroom. Peter was on the bed, his shirt unbuttoned but otherwise still
fully clothed. He grinned sheepishly. “It’s too hard with a static
camera,” he said, and waved a hand helplessly at the bedside cabinet
which they’d pulled into the middle of the room. The camera was on top
of it, balanced precariously on a pile of paperbacks with one of the
bedside lamps beside it, angled horizontally to serve as a spotlight.
Peter squinted into the glare of the lamp. “Don’t mind, do you?” Susana
put a hand on Neil’s shoulder. “Of course he doesn’t mind,” she said.
“He’s a hardened old perv. It’s all his dreams come true.” Neil
considered his feelings and found that she wasn’t far off the mark. He
picked up the camera, aimed it at Peter on the bed, then moved around
testing the angles and the lighting. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it.”
He put the camera on the bed, moved the bedside cabinet back to its
original position, and rearranged the lamps so their light diffused off
the walls and ceiling. “Right,” he said. “Take it from the top. Go
outside and come in again.” Peter swung himself off the bed and he and
Susana went out into the living room. Neil picked up the camera again,
pointed it at the door and called, “Action,” then pressed the trigger.
There was a 10-second delay and Susana reappeared, leading Peter by the
hand. She stopped just inside the door, put her arms around his neck and
kissed him, grinding her belly against his. Neil zoomed in on the kiss,
then panned back and moved aside to keep them in frame as she broke the
clinch and propelled Peter towards the bed. “Lie down,” she said. “No,
wait.” She peeled off his shirt, sat on the bed and unbuckled his belt,
then flopped back on the covers, pulled her dress up to her waist, and
spread her legs. “Love me,” she said. Peter glanced at the camera,
hesitated, then dropped his trousers and clambered between her legs.
Susana’s fingers flew down the buttons on the front of her dress, then
dived under the waistband of his pants to claim his cock as he leaned
over her, his hands beside her shoulders to support his body clear of
hers, and bent his head to kiss her. Neil adjusted his own
semi-erection, knelt on the floor and concentrated on the image of her
practised hands unpacking Peter’s prick from his underpants and teasing
it to full alert. “Off,” she said, when he finally lifted his mouth from
hers. “I want to get on top.”
Peter eased himself off her and rolled on to his back. Susana shucked
out of her knickers, then swung her legs off the bed, stood up and
smiled seductively at Neil. Or the camera Neil couldn’t decide which,
but his cock stirred again as she caressed her breasts and belly,
slipped a hand briefly between her legs and finally slid the unbuttoned
dress off her shoulders and dropped it on the floor. Then she turned
back to Peter, leaned over him and hooked her thumbs under the waistband
of his pants. “Up,” she said, and he raised his hips while she worked
his pants down his legs and over his feet. Neil moved around the foot of
the bed to keep all of the action in frame as she took Peter’s cock in
her hand and milked it thoughtfully for a few moments before leaning in
further and taking it into her mouth. Peter ran a hand up between her
legs and she closed her eyes and purred happily around his prick, her
head nodding gently and her lips dragging voluptuously at the shaft.
Neil dropped to his knees again and pressed the zoom button, filling the
viewfinder with head and cock, silently willing her to look at the
camera. Susana sensed his need, opened her eyes and gazed steadily at
the lens as she raised her head off Peter’s prick, licked its glistening
tip and then worked her mouth slowly down its entire length. “Urrff,”
said Peter, and his legs twitched.
Susana lifted her head and smirked wetly at the camera, extracted
Peter’s probing fingers from her pussy and stretched out on the bed
beside him. He rolled towards her and she turned into his embrace,
locking his legs between hers and seeking his mouth. He held her tight
and kissed her fiercely, and Neil focussed the camera on her fingers as
she dug in her nails and dragged them slowly down Peter’s back to his
buttocks. After a while she pushed him on to his back and straddled his
belly, leaned forward and offered him her breasts, closing her eyes and
panting softly while he tongued and sucked her swollen nipples. She was
still acutely conscious of the camera, could almost visualise the scene
in its viewfinder, and found herself planning ahead for its benefit. She
shifted position, shuffling backwards down Peter’s body, feeling his
cock probing her sopping slit then slipping past the target and sliding
snugly into the saddle between her buttocks. She kissed him again, then
swung herself off his body and lay beside him, groping for his cock.
“Fuck me now,” she said. “Fuck me nicely.”
Peter heaved himself upright and pulled a pillow from the head of the
bed. Susana raised her hips so he could position the pillow under them,
then drew up her knees and spread her legs. She glanced at Neil, took
approving note of the bulge at his crotch, and parted the pleats of her
pussy with her fingers to give him a close-up opportunity. Then Peter
was between her legs, and she hooked her hands behind her knees and
pulled, raising her head to watch as he positioned himself and slipped
the head of his cock into her cunt. “Oh yes,” she breathed. “Push it in.
Fuck me. I need to be fucked.” Peter grunted. His cock slid in to half
its length, withdrew and then plunged in to the hilt. He began a steady,
deep thrusting long, regular strokes that left her gasping and she
responded with matching rhythmic contractions of her pelvic muscles. She
was only dimly aware of Neil dodging here and there around the bed,
covering all the angles, at times leaning over her to shoot straight
into the fork of her legs.
Peter stepped up the pace, pounding himself into her and muttering
almost to himself: “Love that, don’t you? Love to be fucked. Can’t get
enough cock, can you?” Susana egged him on. “Oh yes,” she said, spacing
her words to the rhythm of his thrusting. “I . . . love . . . it . . .
Love . . . your . . . COCK . . . Love . . . to . . . be . . . FUCKED . .
. Love . . . your . . . great . . . big . . . stiff . . . cock . . . in
. . . my . . . pussy!” Peter’s eyes began to glaze over, perspiration
broke out on his forehead and chest, and she realised he was close, far
too soon, to losing control. She fought back her own approaching climax,
let go of her legs and pushed at his chest. “Off,” she said. He shoved
another couple of times, then pulled out of her and sat back on his
heels. Susana rolled to her knees and nuzzled his prick, slurped it into
her mouth and pumped it briefly for Neil’s benefit, then turned to face
the end of the bed and assumed the doggy position. Peter shuffled into
place between her calves, took his dick in his hand and guided it back
into her cunt, angling his hips to give Neil a clear view of the first
half-dozen strokes. “Film her face,” he said. “She laughs at me when I
come. I want her to see what SHE looks like.”
Neil sat on the floor at the foot of the bed and focused the camera.
Susana’s face filled the viewfinder. She looked into the lens, crossed
her eyes and stuck out her tongue, then gasped as Peter grabbed her by
the hair with both hands, pulled her head back and began to shag her
savagely. “Yes,” she cried. “Fuck me harder. HARDER. Make me come.” She
balanced herself on one hand, slipped the other between her legs and
rubbed her clitoris. “Oh yes. Fuck me. Fuck. Cock. Yes. Cunt. Shit. Yes,
shit. Yes. Yess. Fuck me. Harder. HARDER. Shit. Fuck.
ShitshitshitcuntFUUUUCK!” Her eyes bugged, her face contorted and her
mouth gaped in a suddenly silent scream as she peaked into orgasm. She
bucked and wiggled, hooted unintelligibly as wave after wave of
unspeakable ecstasy washed over her. Peter halted his hammering,
released his grip on her hair and grabbed her hips. He sat back on his
heels, hauling her into his lap, and wrenched her upright, still firmly
impaled on his prick. His arms snaked around her, his left hand mashed
her right breast and his right hand dived between her legs. Susana threw
back her head and whimpered, jouncing up and down on his cock as his
expert fingers teased and tickled her to another clock-stopping climax.
Then he lifted her off, and she fell face-down on to the bed, thoroughly
satiated. Peter wasn’t finished. He slipped off the bed and stood up.
“Now,” he said. “Suck me off.”
Susana found a tiny reserve of strength and turned her head to glare at
him. He pointed to the floor at his feet. “Here, bitch,” he said. “On
your knees. Suck me off.” He took his cock in his right hand and milked
it slowly while he waited for her to recover control of her limbs. Neil
got to his feet and moved around to the opposite side of the bed, kept
her in frame as she struggled over the edge and sank obediently to her
knees in front of her lover. “Suck it, trollop,” said Peter. “Suck it
off.” He waggled his cock in her face and she dutifully opened her mouth
to receive it. Peter slapped her cheek lightly with the tip of his tool.
“What do you want, slut?” he said imperiously. “Speak up.” Susana
shivered with delight at the indignity. “Cock,” she said. Then, louder,
more theatrically: “Cock. Your sacred cock, my lord. In my mouth. Come
in my mouth.” She fitted her lips around the tip and dived until she
fetched up against his fingers. He tasted of pussy. Peter took his hand
away and grunted with gratification as she gulped down a further five
centimetres. Susana massaged the underside of his cock with her tongue,
fed herself another couple of centimetres, then sucked her way back to
the tip, fitted the fingers of her right hand around the shaft and began
to pump. “No hands,” said Neil. “They get in the way of the shot. Just
use your mouth.”
Susana considered telling him to go to hell. From past experience, she
knew it was well-nigh impossible to bring Peter off in her mouth without
a little manual assistance. Neil was different he could practically
think himself to a climax, and the prized hands-off blowjob was a breeze
with him. On the other hand, Peter was pretty close to the boil already,
so . . . She took her hand away and opened wide, baring her teeth (Neil
would like that!), and drove on to his dick, burying it deep in her
mouth. “That’s right,” said Neil. “All of it. Now out, all the way out,
so I can see the tip. That’s right. Lick your lips. Now in again. More.
More. Out. In. Out. Long and slow. Long and slow. Long and slow.” Susana
glared at him out of the corner of her right eye, thought: Who’s sucking
this cock, anyway? But she was following his directions, and had to
admit that Peter was responding quicker than she’d expected, gasping and
working his scrotal muscles so that his cock stiffened and swelled even
more, if that was possible, on each of her downstrokes. She cupped his
buttocks in both hands, careful to keep her elbows down out of the
camera’s line of sight to the main action, digging in her nails and
rocking his hips. “Oh shit, yess,” he breathed. “Fantastic. Eat me. Suck
me off.”
Susana stepped up the pace, diving, driving, in, out, sucking, pressing,
in, out, alert for the specific jerking movement that would give her
split-second notice he was about to explode. She thought ahead, brought
her left hand around his hip and fondled his balls, then circled the
base of his cock lightly with her fingers, the thumb poised to clamp off
the flow after the first spurt.
In, out, suck, press, in, out, faster bingo! Peter shuddered, and all
of his muscles went suddenly slack. Except for the one in her mouth. It
jerked once, twice, then vomited warm, salty broth on her soft palate.
Clamp! She raised her head from his dick and pumped. One. Two. Three.
Four. Then she eased her grip and semen jetted across fifteen
centimetres of space to splash gooily on her cheek. Clamp! Peter
groaned. Susana opened her mouth, brought it to within five centimetres
of the tip of his cock, and waggled her tongue. Pump. Neil hit the zoom
button. Pump. Pump. Release. More sperm squirted into the air, landed on
her upper lip, and dripped on to her tongue. Clamp! Pump. She rested the
tip on her tongue, pumped again, released again. It poured out of him,
flooding her mouth, dribbling down her chin. She swallowed, fitted her
lips around his still-twitching shaft and gobbled at it, gulping down
another flood of sperm. His dick softened in her mouth and he tried to
pull away, but she grabbed his hips and went on working, determined to
make him beg for mercy. Instead, to her delight and his astonishment,
his cock took on new life and began to stiffen once more between her
greedy lips.
In half a minute it was fully erect again, and Susana suckled eagerly,
slurping and sucking, squeezing, teasing, her head shuttling back and
forth with robotic regularity. “Slow down,” said Neil. “You’ll scare it
off.” Susana ignored him. Peter was making strange sobbing noises. She
ignored him, too, and slipped her head into high gear. In, out, in, out,
in out in out in out. Peter clutched his buttocks and arched his back.
In out in out. He began to tremble, and the sobs changed to strangled
gasps. In out in out in out. Susana’s head swam. In out in out in out in
out. Faster. Deeper. Longer. Faster. Faster. Faster. Peter was shaking
uncontrollably and muttering obscenities. She took no notice. She was
just a mouth, wrapped around a giant cock.
In out in out in out. Faster. Faster. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. She
stopped, suddenly, her nose jammed hard against Peter’s belly and his
cock seemingly halfway down her gullet. Peter sagged at the knees,
screamed, and came with a force that made her eyes water. She choked,
lifted her head just far enough to clear her throat, swallowed, sucked
and spluttered as more semen than her mouth could hold (where was it all
coming from?) spilled out of his cock. She swallowed, swallowed again,
sucked again and was relieved to find that the well had finally run dry.
She raised her head, sat back on her heels and looked up at Peter’s
face. His mouth was hanging open, and his eyes were glazed. Susana
stifled a giggle, batted her eyelashes at him and inquired impishly:
“Like that, my lord?”
Peter staggered, flung out a hand to steady himself, and sat down
heavily on the side of the bed, staring stupidly at her. “Sweet Jesus,”
he said at last. “That was . . . ” He trailed off, unable to find the
words. Susana reached between his legs and twitched his softening penis,
then turned to Neil. “Did I do good?” He was still filming. “You’ve got
goo on your face,” he said. She felt around, found the goo, and licked
it off her fingers. Then she asked again: “Did I do good?” Neil switched
off the camera. “You did very good,” he said. “You passed the screen
test.” He fingered his crotch and leered at her. “Now there’s just the
small matter of the casting couch, and you get your Girl Guide Porno
Queen merit badge.”
Susana beamed and got to her feet. “Oh my,” she said, “do you mean
there’s MORE? Should I shower first?” “No,” said Neil. “I like my porno
queens hot off the set.” He put the camera on the bedside cabinet,
walked around the bed and took her in his arms. She laced her fingers
behind his neck, ground her crotch against his leg and kissed him. Peter
shook himself out of his stupor, slid off the far side of the bed and
picked up the camera. “I want to watch it,” he said querulously. “When
can I watch it?”
Neil disentangled himself from Susana’s embrace. “You can watch it now,”
he said. “That’s how this man’s porno film industry works. Instant
service. Shoot it and show it.” He held out his hand for the camera.
Peter handed it over, and he carried it into the living room and began
making the connections to the TV. Susana followed him, heedless of
prying neighbors who might get a charge out of her nakedness, and took
her time drawing the drapes. Peter tottered into the en suite. Neil
connected the mains power to the camera, pressed the rewind button and
went back into the bedroom. Susana walked into the kitchen, opened the
fridge and pulled out her flagon of wine. She poured herself a large
glass, drank half of it and topped it up, then called out: “Do you want
a drink?” Neil called back: “Yes, please. Beer.” There was no response
from Peter. Susana put her flagon back in the fridge, pulled out two
cans of lager and carried them into the living room. She put the cans on
the coffee table, went back for her wine and returned to the living room
just as Neil re-emerged in his laplap. He pointed to the sofa. “Casting
couch,” he said. “Sit there.” Susana sat. Peter emerged from the en
suite with a bath towel wrapped around his waist, and sat in his
customary armchair. Neil handed him a beer, then checked to see whether
the tape had finished rewinding. It had. He turned on the TV, pressed
the play button on the camcorder, picked up his beer and joined Susana
on the sofa. He put his left arm around her shoulders, and she took a
long sip of wine, leaned forward and put the glass on the coffee table,
then folded her legs beneath her on the couch and snuggled into him.
Susana. On the bed. In profile. On her hands and knees. The camera set
too low, the lighting too harsh, throwing a giant black shadow on the
wall beyond her. Peter’s voice: “Where’s the zoom? Oh, yes.” Zoom in.
Too much. Zoom out, a touch at a time. Just about right. “It needs to be
higher. How . . . right. Books.” Susana turns to face the camera,
working her knees apart, pouting provocatively, rising up on her knees,
her head disappearing out of the top of the frame, her hands caressing
her breasts, sliding between her legs, hiking the hem of her dress to
waist level, her hips rolling, fingers plucking at her pussy through the
fabric of her knickers. (On the couch, Susana shook with silent
laughter, and nuzzled Neil’s neck.) The picture wobbles wildly, settles
down with the bed missing, out of frame at the bottom. Peter’s voice:
“Bugger, now it’s too high.” More wobbling, and this time he gets it
right. Susana jounces up and down, one hand inside her dress playing
with her tit, the other busy between her legs. “Hurry up. I’m HORNY.”
Peter’s voice: “Stop messing about, you’re supposed to be helping.”
Susana, petulantly: “Well, what?” Peter: “Lie down.” Susana, lying prone
and making rooting motions with her hips: “Hurry UP.” More zoom
adjustments. Then Peter: “All right, that’ll do. I guess.” Susana,
rolling over and parting her legs: “About time. Come and get it, lover.”
Peter appears at the foot of the bed, slithers up it like a snake,
spreading her legs wider as he goes, and buries his nose in her pantied
crotch. She pushes him away. “Not yet. Up here.” He kneels between her
thighs and leans over her, looking back at the camera and calculating
angles while she pulls his shirt out of his trousers and unbuttons it.
“Pay attention,” she says. He bends to kiss her, looks back again at the
camera, and rolls off to the side. “It won’t work,” he says. “Get Neil.”
Susana sits up and swings her legs off the bed. “I TOLD you,” she says.
“You never listen.” She stands up and walks towards the camera . . .
. . . and the main feature begins.