Karen started to lean back in the barber chair. The make-up man stopped her. "Wait a minute, honey. Better take off your blouse. Don't want to get powder or something on it."
Karen started to protest. Then she reconsidered. From the way the man talked, walked, and dressed, she had nothing to worry about. She reminded herself bitterly of all she had already done. Why be shy about taking her shirt off?
He deftly unbuttoned the blouse and helped her out of it. When she leaned back, the leather of the chair was cold on her bare skin. She felt goose bumps rising on her arms as the man tipped the chair back and adjusted it.
"You look a little chilly," the man observed. "I'll turn the heat up a little. Damn energy crisis has us all shivering around here."
Karen tried to relax, tried not to think about the fact that the show was about to be taped. The make-up artist bustled around the room, then seated himself on a stool beside her. There was a round table of cosmetics by his elbow.
"Hmmm, let's see now," he mused. "Light brown hair. Very pretty, I might add. Uhmn, blue eyes, and a lovely, lovely complexion. Unfortunately, the lights would make you wash out so you'd look like a faded sheet. So, we do a little lightening here, a little heightening there, a touch of lip rouge. Want your friends to re-organize you."
The chair and the room were both warming up, but Karen still felt goose-pimply. The effeminate manner of the man disturbed her. His complete lack of reaction to the generous mounds of her jugs irritated her. Even though he was clearly more interested in his own sex than in hers, she couldn't understand how he could not even look at her boobs. Here she was, lying back, half-naked, and he was treating her like a museum specimen. She shifted in the chair.
"I don't see why I need all of this," she observed, making conversation in an effort to make him treat her as a person. "I put on make-up this morning."
"And a very good job you did, too," he said. "Though I might criticize your choice of lipstick. But, honey, this is TV. Matter of fact, this is color TV. What we have to do is accent the colors so you look like you." He smiled mechanically.
"What color lipstick would you recommend?" she asked as he sponged off all the make-up she had put on so painstakingly.
"Well, first let's talk about your eyes," he answered. "You have lovely, lovely eyes." His fingers softly brushed her eyebrows, smoothing them. "An eyeshadow that accents the beautiful blue is what I would recommend. Like this one." He held up a container.
"I see," she murmured, pleased at having gotten his attention, and the compliments. She felt her tits hardening in her bra, and shivered delicately with lust. She licked her lips nervously.
"For a rouge, this," he went on, holding up another tube. Karen ignored it, and focused her eyes on his. He had lovely, deep brown, soft eyes. Mis face was baby smooth. Rather gaunt with high cheekbones. His rich brown hair was modishly long, yet neat. In the open vee of his shirt Karen could see curly brown hair. She had the urge to run her fingers through it.
"And, for those lovely, lovely lips, a slightly richer tint," he continued.
"What would you recommend for my body?" Karen asked huskily, wondering whether she could seduce the man or not.
"Well now, since you ask, first you'd need a very light foundation to hide those blemishes say, did you know I do body make-up?"
"You do?" Karen asked, intrigued.
"Oh, yes. I'm called in on a great many X-rated films. I cover up appendectomy scars and stray moles, even stretch marks. It's a whole new field, body make-up."
Karen reached behind her back and unfastened her bra. "What about my nipples? Should I accent them with something?" She teased her titties to full hardness by tugging on them. She saw the make-up man lick his lips as he studied her jugs. Finally!
"Lovely," he sighed. "Just a touch of this, perhaps."
His fingers brushed her nipples. Karen shivered as warmth flowed down from the points. As he pinched and rolled her teats she wondered how queer he really was. Maybe it was a put-on. Maybe he wasn't queer at all.
"But I wouldn't want too much attention on my bust," she purred. "I mean, after all, there is more to a woman than her jugs."
"Oh, of course, of course," the man agreed eagerly. "But I…"
"Why don't you lock the door," Karen suggested tightly, wondering what had come over her. "You can show me how you hide an appendectomy scar, even though I don't have one."
"Well, I…"
"And my-my pussy," Karen murmured. "How can I make my pussy more attractive?" As the man went over to lock, the door, she reached for the fastenings of her skirt. After easing it down, she lowered her panties as well. As the make-up man came back, his eyes focused on the full, lush thrust of her pussy.
"Pussy," the man purred, "pretty, pretty pussy." Then he seemed to recover himself. "Well now. If you had an appendectomy scar how I hid it would, of course, depend on exactly where it was. These days they locate them much lower they call it a 'bikini cut'."
"Where would that be?" Karen asked tightly. She was naked with a man again.
"Right here," he answered. Karen shuddered as his finger traced a light line low on her gut.
"And my pussy?" she moaned, spreading her sleek legs.
"Pretty, pretty pussy," the man sighed. Karen thought momentarily tat he was jealous of her equipment.
"To be truly attractive, your hair should be neatened up a little."
"Why don't you neaten it up? It's very hard for me to see what I'm doing there," Karen pointed out.
"Just trim away a few of these stray wisps," the man said softly, picking up a pair of barber scissors. Karen kit her cunt hair being tugged gently, felt her cunt moistening as hot breath stirred her brown curls. He was leaning down and closer to her snatch. A hand was resting high on the inside of her thigh.
"And then it should be combed out, so it's nice and fluffy," he went on.
A comb tugged through her muff, and Karen licked her cunt drool eagerly. She drew her legs farther and farther apart. Her knees were flung out wide, and her feet were on the seat of the chair, instead of the footrest.
"Got to get this damn thing out of my way," the make-up artist muttered. Karen heard the footrest drop with a thud. The chair began to rise slowly. He was raising it so he had easier access to her snatch. He was also tipping her back so her hips were higher than her head.
"There, that's better. My back was getting sore."
"What about way down, between my thighs?" Karen asked. "Don't they show crotches in X-rated movies?"
"My dear, they get positively gynecological in them now," he answered. "Gynecological. Other openings, too, in fact."
"My pussy," Karen moaned, parting her cunt lips with her fingers, presenting the gleaming hot heart of her cunt. "Do they do anything with the insides of it?"
"N-No," he stuttered. "Oh, my! Oh, you look good enough to eat! Oh, I've just got to do it got to!"
His hands on the insides of her thighs, the man lowered his head toward her twat. Karen shuddered, and forced her legs still wider, until the tendons were stretched and strained. She felt air touch her far up in her pussy. She felt hot breath burn her cunt meat.
Then his mouth pressed into her slippery gash, and her hips heaved up madly. His tongue struck deep into her cunt. She felt it squirming into her tunnel. Her twat flooded with juices, and she felt his tongue scoop them out with long, sweeping strokes.
"Mmmmm, yum," the man purred, lifting his head for a moment. His nose and chin were shining wet.
"More," Karen whispered. "Do it some more, please."
Willingly, the make-up artist dipped his head to her crotch again. His mouth fastened on the juicy petals of her snapper and he sucked. She felt the rippled tatters of her inner lips get dragged in between his lips. She felt her clit being dragged out to the end of its stalk. His lips fastened on that berry, and Karen's hips jammed up into his face.
Clinging to the arms of the chair, her boobs heaving and shuddering as her breathing degenerated to gasps and sighs, Karen thrashed with excitement as he ate her. She felt his tongue strike deep inside her again, felt her body respond with a flood. She heard him sucking and slurping as he ate her juices.
"My cunt," she managed to grunt. "Eat my tilt all up! Eat it all up!"
The man mouth-nibbled his way upward, from her cunt-hole, past her pisser, and fastened on the alert bud. He sucked, and it felt like it was going to pull out by the roots. Grabbing it between his deft, skilled lips, he proceeded to batter the little berry with his tongue.
Karen had the vague feeling she was being beaten to death. Fire lashed through her with every stroke of his tongue on her clit. Her head flopped from side to side. She was coming, coming all over his grinding chin. Her gut heaved and tossed.
And he just kept eating her clit. She clutched his head with both hands, tried to jam him into her cunt. His mouth ripped away from her clit and she guided his mouth to her cunt-hole again. His tongue raped deep into her flooding twat, stirring the slippery, velvety, slimy walls of her shaft. It wan stimulation no cock could match.
His nose was grinding against her clit as he probed her cunt. Karen's hips rolled and heaved and ground against him. The coming went on and on until she was reduced to a shivering, aching knot. Finally she had to get him away from her ravaged crotch. "Enough," she croaked. "Oh, God. Enough, enough, enough."
"I'm sorry," he apologized breathlessly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
Karen refrained from punning that she had come all over him. "It's all right," she panted. "I asked for it, I really asked for it. It was wonderful, just wonderful."
"I haven't done anything like that in years," the make-up man confessed.
"Not your usual style, is it?" Karen observed.
"No," he admitted. "It's just that…"
"Women can do the same things to men that men can," Karen pointed out.
"You mean…"
"Like cock-sucking," Karen went on, becoming the pawn of her wanton lust. "I'm a great cock-sucker. I'll bet this chair can be adjusted perfectly for that, too."
"It can, oh, it can," the man agreed. "That is, if you don't mind being upside down."
"Just try me and see," Karen suggested in a throaty tone. Her mouth was watering at the thought of having a prick between her lips again.
"I'm very clean," the make-up man assured her as he tilted the chair, lowering the headrest until Karen was almost upside down. She still had her legs drawn up and knees spread wide. It was a crazy, upside-down pose that left her twat gaping wide open. A mirror on the wall showed her just how ludicrous the pose was.
Then the make-up man was standing over her face. She saw his hands on his belt, saw his trousers drop toward her. He was wearing a pair of tight bikini underpants that molded intimately to his impressive dong. He skinned them down, and his dick leaped at her face like a snake. It was as long as Peter Sandier's prick, but skinnier. It was uncircumcised. She watched as the foreskin drew back to reveal the purple head.
Karen licked her lips and swallowed, which was hard to do with her head tilted so far back. If it hadn't been for the headrest supporting her neck, she never could have done it.
"Come to me," she croaked. "Come to me." She pursed her lips and reached for his swinging pecker as it neared her face. She drew the tip to her lips, urged him closer, then let her lips encircle the cylinder of his pecker. After capturing the pole with her mouth, she reached back farther, clutched his hips, and drew him toward her. She let his prick slide into her mouth, and right down her throat. She swallowed his cockhead. It was easy, once you knew how, to take dick all the way. Then his harsh hush was scratching her face.
"Sonofabitch!" the man screeched as he gazed down at her.
Karen's throat spasmed around his whang. She eased him back until she could clear her windpipe and get some air. She eased him back farther and swirled her tongue around the tip of his prick. She savored his juicy pre-come as she scrubbed his dick with her tongue. Then, spitting his pecker out completely, she laved it with the tip of her tongue, played with it as he watched.
Spread on the make-up chair like some kind of sacrifice, Karen happily licked the tip of the make-up man's hard-on. She still held his trim hips. A reach of her head, and a tug of her hands, and she again had the knob of his cock between her lips. She sucked on the rounded end, stroked it with her velvet tongue, and was rewarded with another hot flow of juices.
Another tug on his hips, and he screwed his dick into her mouth. She urged him forward and swallowed his cock again. She felt it slide down her throat, like a monster sausage. Taking one hand from his hips, she reached down and began to, finger-fuck her gaping twat. Her heavy jugs jiggled and joggled as she shifted and squirmed with total abandon. Her stomach rolled and heaved as she devoured the man's meat.
Changing her grip as she sucked in a huge breath, she curled her fingers around his balls. It gave her a feeling of power to know that, just by clenching her hand, she could reduce him to a whimpering puddle of agony. She didn't do it, of course. She used her hot grasp on his nuts to make him fuck her face. Tugging on his balls brought him toward her, drove his cock down her throat. Pushing away sent his cock sliding out through the sucking circle of her lips.
She began to coordinate his moves and her breathing, so he was always moving in or out of her sucking, slurping, swallowing mouth. At the same time she drove herself mad with her fingers in her seething, sopping snatch. Keeping her own lust up made the cock-swallowing much easier.
The make-up man got the idea and the timing. He gripped the sides of her face with his hands, and his hips began to move in an easy fucking motion. She caught on that he was watching her chest, timing his strokes to her breathing so she wouldn't suffocate. That left her free to concentrate on her pussy.
"Know what else I like?" He asked tensely.
Karen wondered how she could answer with his cock fucking her face.
"I like my asshole played with," he hissed. "I love to have things poked up my asshole pens, or pencils, or fingers, even cocks. Why don't you put your finger up my asshole? Do it, put your finger up my bung. I dare you. I dare you."
Karen didn't need to be dared. The thought of exploring the man's crapper with her finger made her innards writhe excitedly. It was a simple matter to reach behind his balls and find his shitter. With a gentle twist, she worked just the tip of her finger into his tail hole.
"Ooooo yes, that's it," he whispered. His hip-swinging kept the same pace, but became more forceful. He was smashing his hips at her, ramming his hard cock down the working tunnel of her throat. Her lips felt swollen from the friction. "Deeper," he urged. "Deeper, and I'll kiss your gorgeous ass."
Karen augered her finger farther into his brownie. She recalled the exquisite feeling of having the ballpoint pen drilled up her butt just the day before. The memory made her ram her finger deep into his shitty depths.
"NNNNHHHHYEAH!" the man wailed. His had tipped back and rolled. His hips slammed his cock down ha throat. His balls were swinging and slapping her nose with every driving thrust.
Karen's other hand was frantically fucking her pussy, making a gooey, sticky, slapping sound. She was pistoning two fingers in and out of her cunt, while the palm of her hand slapped her cunt with a loud, popping sound.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah," the man chanted in time with his drives. "Coming. Gonna come, gonna come, gonna come come come!"
Karen didn't need to be told. She was familiar with the symptoms now and managed to grab a deep breath before his cock began to pulse and pump. She felt hot jizz burn her gullet. She was mad she wasn't getting to taste the creamy wads. They were shooting right down her throat to her stomach. An inch or more of his lean pecker had jammed past the gate of her swallower. She could fed his dick leaping and jerking and pulsing. She could feel the hot wads erupting from the tip. She could feel the thick globs streaming to her stomach. But she couldn't taste any of it. She could smell his shit as she wiggled and flicked his bung with her finger. His asshole was only an inch from her nose.
She loved it! And she loved it more when he drew out so she could breathe, and she was able to capture the last spurtin with her tongue. She tasted and smelled his jizz before her spit sluiced the last of the delectable fluid away!
Even though his dick was withering and he was trying to pull free of her, she held him close with the finger hooked in his crapper. Gently, she rubbed the lump of his prostate through his shitter wall, and cupped his balls in her hand. She didn't let go until she felt his bowels trying to shit her finger out. Then she relaxed, let her arms hang down to the floor as she caught her breath.
"Oh, you sweet, sweet bitch you," the man sighed. "My God, I'll never be satisfied with Jamie again."
Karen tried to lift her head, but it was too much of a strain. He adjusted the headrest for her. "Why don't you teach him what to do?" she asked.
"Oh, he's kind of a priss about some things. I love assholes. Would you like me to kiss your MC?"
Karen shivered. She felt totally sated, completely drained of lust. But the thought of the man playing with her butt was intriguing. She remembered Bernstein shoving the pen up her ass, and felt her cunt contract.
"If you'd like to. I'd like to watch, though. Could you turn the chair toward the mirror?"
"Sure," he agreed. "I'll do better than that. Here's a hand mirror for you to hold. If you sort of scootch your bottom so you curl up a little, you should be able to see everything."
Karen complied as the chair was swung around so her gaping crotch was aimed toward the big mirror. She clutched the hand mirror in sweaty fingers, and surveyed her sodden snatch. Below it, she could see the dusky rosebud of her bung.
The make-up man dropped to his knees. He stroked the valley of her ass with gentle, skilled fingers. The touch of a fingertip on her winkie made it spasm deliciously, visibly. He blew on her bung. It felt like an ice cube had touched her brownie.
His lips nibbled the white moons of her tail. She felt a hot, velvety tongue stroke her pale flesh. Closer, and closer, and closer to her asshole, and then his tongue brushed her bung! Karen writhed from the incredibly exquisite sensation. Her lust roared upward.
The man stroked her ass crack with his tongue. Karen hunched her butt to give him a better shot at her. His tongue swept her tail valley from end to end, rasped past the rounded, hairy lips of her twat.
She was watching it all in the mirror she was holding. The gross sight of the man lapping at her bottom made her guts knot with lust.
"In," she hissed, "put your tongue in me!"
"Yes," the man agreed, "oh yes, indeed."
As she watched, he dragged her asscheeks apart until the valley was stretched. He lowered his face to her tail. His tongue slid out, touched her brownie. Her asshole winked at the contact. Then, as she watched, he wiggled his tongue, and pressed, and she felt her winkie slowly yield to the intruder. She saw his tongue-tip slowly drill into her shitter, slowly pry that tiny gate open and start up into her crap tunnel.
The sensation of that live, hot, squirming, living probe was the most arousing, erotic thing she had ever felt. Karen began to come without warning. Her body heaved and shuddered as waves of fire raged through her. The man worked his tongue deeper and deeper into her hot greasy depths. She tried to open her gate wider to him. She saw a hot come-flush blossoming on her belly, spreading up and out over her hunched, wrinkled torso to her sagging titties. Her inner cunt-lips were throbbing, bright pink ruffles in the hairy nest of her snatch. Her cunt was a seething swamp of cream. She wanted to grab the man's head and jam it up her ass, but didn't want to lose her two-fisted, desperate grip on the mirror that was giving her such a perfect view of the perverted penetration.
The make-up man didn't stop driving into her until his nose was grinding into her snatch and his chin was against her butt. His tongue was like a hot log in her bung. Then he stopped. All Karen felt was a crazy, maddening stirring in her shitter. She kept coming and coming and coming. It went on and on, until at last she had to reach down and push the intruder away. He fell backwards. His tongue ripped out of her asshole as he tumbled to the hard floor. His chest heaved as he caught his breath.
Karen let her head fall back and groaned with relief. Slowly and agonizingly, she straightened her legs.
"Oh, golly, golly, golly," the make-up man moaned, dragging himself to his feet and hauling up his wrinkled pants. "I never thought a woman could be like you."
"There are all kinds of women, just like there are all kinds of men," Karen pointed out weakly.
"Can I help you get dressed?" he asked.
Karen swayed a little when she stood up. "No, that's all right." She began putting on her clothes. She looked for her panties, but they were nowhere in sight. After a few minutes frantic searching, they both gave up. She fastened her skirt.
"We'd better hurry, get you made up," the man noted, glancing at the clock. He set the chair to a more normal position and politely helped her sit down.
"You understand, don't you, that I'll never go for you as a woman," he noted as he made up her face.
"Oh?"
"I find men more attractive," he observed. "Usually, anyway. I guess I'm hi, rather than pure homo."
"Oh, there's a spectrum?" Karen mused.
"Exactly. But anytime you would like some action, just let me know. I'm Paul."
"And your boyfriend is Jamie," Karen filled in. "What's Jamie like?"
"You'd like him. In fact, he'd like you, too. Why don't you drop by sometime and we'll make it a threesome?"
Karen giggled. "I don't know…"
"Well, just remember you're always welcome," the man told ha as he tinted the lips that had just been sucking his cock.
"Thank you," Karen replied politely. She was carefully keeping her thoughts away from what she was becoming.
Poor Mark, poor hard-working, strait-laced Mark. Missionary-position Mark. When he wasn't too tired to get it up at all. Well, maybe with the money she won, they could have a little leisure time together.
She wondered what she was likely to get herself into next or, rather, what was likely to get into her, and where. She half dozed as he finished her make-up.