"What do you think, Richard? Do you think the chickie up there looking all sweet and innocent sucks cock?"
"It's really hard to say," the other cameraman answered, just loud enough for the girl to hear. "I figure she might be a first-rate cocksucker. Look at the way her mouth gets all puckery. And those lips! Hell and damnation, man! Those have got to be the lips of a grade-A, ultra-prime cocksucking woman!"
Cheryl nervously shifted from one foot to the other. She didn't like either Dick or Jim, but she had to put up with them. They could do all sorts of horrid things to her if they wanted. Putting up with their crude comments was better than having them turn her green or yellow with their cameras. In spite of all their horsing around, they were good TV cameramen.
They knew their trade. And they loved trying to embarrass any of the newcomers.
Cheryl wished the little red light on the camera would blink. She wanted to get on the air, give the weather and get the hell out of the studio. She couldn't bear the thought of having to fend off those two wolves one more time. She'd only worked at the station for a week, and they hadn't ceased trying to pick her up.
She wandered what type of girl they thought she was.
"Imagine having her go down on you, those slender fingers slipping around your butt, diving down into your asshole. A cool finger sort of working its way in while those hot lips of hers started kissing your dick." Jim was really getting into it.
"Hey, guy, watch your language," snapped Dick. "I mean, you're around a real lady, not one of those whores you usually shack up with."
"Lady? A lady? When?" He began dollying in on Cheryl.
"Aw, come on! You can see she's a lady. Look at those legs. Can a whore have legs like those? Slender, trim, graceful. And you can see all the way up to mid-thigh. And what thighs! Enough to make a man hard just thinking about what's a few inches higher up and buried, huh?"
"I don't know, man. It's the tits that get me hard. Really. I mean, that low-cut neck and all." He smirked as Cheryl unconsciously moved her hand to her neckline. She momentarily wondered if it was just a bit too daring to wear on the air. "And the way her jugs sway back and forth, hell, man, she probably isn't even wearing a bra."
Cheryl blushed a vivid red. She wasn't.
"Hey, Dick, my color level just went haywire." To Cheryl, Jim called, "Get ready. Producer says fifteen seconds."
Dick started moving the camera in, continually saying all sorts of awful things designed to upset the new weather girl. They had been at this all week, and Dick enjoyed the little game. When Cheryl had coldly turned him down the first time he propositioned her, he started giving her the full treatment.
It was almost too easy to fluster the eighteen-year-old girl. Just out of high school, she'd actually landed the first job she had applied for. It was almost a miracle to her – almost.
She knew what she'd had to do to get the job. Dick and Jim didn't know a thing about that. And she'd be damned if they would ever know.
"You're on!" called Jim.
Cheryl never trusted the man. He had given her the cue ten seconds too early the first couple days. When the camera had cut in, she was already started on the weather. She'd learned to wait for the red light. That told the story.
All the while she was giving the weather, she could hear Jim and Dick making their comments. Smoothing her dress down brought forth a torrent of "God, lookit that ass!" and "Looks like it's just begging to be fucked, doesn't it?" from the pair.
She tried to ignore them and concentrate on giving the weather. It wasn't much of a job, but it was better than nothing at all. And the producer had promised her she would be able to move up in the station to a better position after she'd put in her apprenticeship.
After what she'd done to get the job she so desperately needed, Cheryl was going to hold Roger to his promise.
The weather over and the red light out – Dick had almost made her say something unfortunate while she was still on the air at the close of her third day at the station – she smoothed her dress again and stalked off the set.
Dick and Jim quickly took off their headphones and cut the power to their cameras. They went after her like sharks after their dinner.
"Hey, Cheryl, don't be mad. How about dinner? Then we can go over to my place and you can show me how good you can suck cock."
"Richard, old man," chimed in Jim, "you just don't have any style. Any finesse. Allow me to show you." He cleared his throat and turned to Cheryl. "Please excuse my crass and sometimes crude comrade. He was merely joking, I assure you."
Cheryl could hardly believe her ears. Was Jim actually going to be polite for a change?
"I would like to take this opportunity," he continued, "to invite you to dinner, perhaps a drink, then we can go to my place and fuck. I'd hate to waste those lips when others are probably even tighter!"
Cheryl flushed a furious red. She would have screamed except she knew it would only goad the men on. She stalked off, her lips, normally full and sensuous, a thin line.
She went toward the producer's office. Behind her, she heard Dick say, "My, my, our little Miss Tight-ass is going to tattle on us to the big old producer man."
She never slowed down when she got to Roger's door. She just barged on in.
Roger looked up from his control panel. He was finishing off the videotape she'd just filmed. The complex array of flashing lights and meters and equipment confused her. Cheryl wondered how Roger managed to keep everything going all at once.
"Be right with you, doll." Roger switched off a rig, then barked into the PA system, "You two dorks clear out. I don't want you loitering around. The watch dog might bite you and get rabies."
Cheryl leaned back against the closed door to the control room. She was breathing hard. It was so difficult putting up with the two cameramen she could barely stand it any longer.
"Dick and Jim still giving you a hard time, Cheryl?" He didn't have to be a mind-reader to know the answer. "Forget 'em. They're nothing around here. Only the staff – the professional staff – matters. And you, babe, you're on your way up. Come on into my office."
They left the control room and walked down the corridor. Roger's hand started out around Cheryl's waist and ended up firmly planted on one of her tight ass cheeks.
She didn't say a word or give any indication that she thought this was out of line. She'd have to be one hell of a hypocrite if she griped about his actions at this late date.
She'd done worse – a lot worse – to get the job.
Cheryl still couldn't quite forgive herself for letting him fuck her. But she justified it with the knowledge she'd landed a job she badly needed. And stringing the producer along could only be in her best interest. He could get her a better job around here. He could literally catapult her into stardom with a prime-time newscast instead of the late-night weather show no one watched.
The girl sighed. She'd do whatever had to be done to get ahead. She had a taste of how the game was played. Hating Dick and Jim didn't count. They didn't count. They couldn't swing a better job, higher pay.
Roger could.
Roger counted.
The producer stripped off his tie and casually tossed it onto his desk top. "Hate that damn thing but the owner says I got to wear it. Stupid wearing that hangman's noose all night long."
He felt his cock stiffening as he surveyed the girl. She was even lovelier than he'd thought when he first hired her. The trim legs really turned him on in a big way, and the smoky nylon covering her legs almost begged to be stroked. He loved the feel of a woman's stockings under his hand. Especially when her legs looked as good as Cheryl's. The smooth flesh, warm and yielding, never failed to get him hard and ready to ball.
He knew what it was like to crawl between her womanly thighs and stuff his cock into her. She had a tight cunt, almost virginal. Roger smiled faintly at the thought. When he'd fucked her, he'd thought he was getting a cherry from the way she'd acted. No virgin, but definitely not very well versed in the ways of screwing.
Still, he didn't complain. He wasn't getting any off his old lady since she'd started on her "Not tonight, dear, I have a headache" kick. When the owner had told him to get a new weather girl to take the place of the ugly bitch who'd left, he saw it as a divine opportunity.
When Cheryl walked into his office, all nervous and innocent looking, Roger knew he'd hire her if she would put out. Somehow, that intent had been conveyed to Cheryl, and she'd let him fuck her. He was glad she didn't put up much of a fuss over it. Hell, this was the way things were. Nobody got ahead these days without some sort of grease.
A guy had to kiss ass all over the place, a chick had to put out. It was that simple.
"Roger, I don't know how much longer I can put up with those two."
He loved watching her talk. She had a breathless quality about her. It made her tits bulge and heave. With the blouse she was wearing – almost wearing! – her jugs threatened to spill out at any second. The marble-white flesh was gently veined with blue. Those knockers begged to be handled, kissed, sucked on.
And the way her nipples pressed against the thin fabric of her blouse, Roger counted himself lucky he didn't blow his wad then and there.
"You can't let them get you down. They're harmless. Just a couple loudmouths."
"You hear them, don't you?" She sat down in a chair. When she crossed her legs, he was treated to the smoky flash of thigh all the way to her crotch. He felt his own crotch responding. His cock almost hurt with the painful intensity of desire he felt.
"Sure." Did he dare tell he got off on what Jim and Dick said? That he enjoyed watching her squirm? No, he decided, that might scare her off. She was like a small child, trusting, innocent, and… one hell of a good fuck.
"Why don't you tell them to stop?"
"You know why I don't. If I came down heavy on them it would just make it worse for you. They's make your lovely face look fat and bulgy or yellow or any of a dozen things. Those cameras are versatile. And, believe it or not, Jim and Dick are the best we've got running them."
"Well, Roger, I… I just can't take it much longer. As much as I need the job and all that, I'm going to quit if they don't stop!"
"Hey, calm down. Look, doll, they're harmless. They don't mean anything by it. And, uh, who knows, something may come up for you in the near future. Know what I mean?"
He unzipped his trousers. Sitting as she was, his cock was at eye level. She swallowed hard as she saw the swollen red tool snap erect. It was quivering and hard. Cheryl knew what the producer wanted. She knew what he expected her to do.
She found herself torn between her code of morals and an animal desire to reach out and stuff that meaty prong into her mouth. Knowing her job depended on what she did now, she hesitated for only a second.
She needed the job worse than she needed to preserve her morals. Besides, she was being forced into this. She knew deep don in her heart she would never do anything this vile of her own accord.
Reaching out, she placed her fingers lightly against the bucking cock. It was already hot with lust. She sat up straight in the chair and moved closer. Her fingers looped around the prick, trapping it in a cool grip. She heard the man moan softly as she squeezed down on his cock.
Pulling, she moved him forward until her lips gave the purple head of the cock a light kiss. It was tentative, unsure. Then, feeling the prick begin to quiver in her hand, she started kissing along the entire length of throbbing manmeat.
She heard the man moan, then grunt as she began nuzzling in the bush of hair surrounding his nuts. Her tongue flicked out and gently nudged the balls trapped inside the furry little sac dangling under the rigid spire.
Lightning bolts of delight blasted into his groin. The tiny bit of wetness that was the girl's lips made him so damned horny he wanted to fuck her lovely face then and there. He could barely restrain himself. Knowing there was even more in store for him if he cooled it, the man waited for his chance.
He'd come soon enough. He could enjoy her mouth moving all around his cock.
Then he'd face-fuck her.
"GO on, babe. Lick it good. Take it into your mouth. I love it when I feel those lips of yours on my cock." He laced his fingers through her lustrous black hair. He started guiding her head up and down his cock so that she wouldn't miss a single square inch of his aroused flesh.
"Umm, you taste… good!" she exclaimed. And she truly thought the cock under her lips did taste good. It wasn't a lie. Even though the idea of sucking on that horrid thing turned her off, there was something about this entire act that she really grooved on. She was really getting into it in a big way.
"Damn straight! And you'll take it all!"
His words made her quiver with excitement. He was so commanding, so dominant. It made her feel like jello inside. Whatever he wanted her to do, no matter how humiliating, how degrading, she would do it – gladly. The producer had a take-command attitude that made her like putty in his hands.
She was his slave to do with as he wished.
And he wished for her to suck his cock.
She sucked.
Her lips opened into an "O" that took his plum-tipped cock. She surrounded him, then started sucking. Not too hard but enough to let him know she was obeying. Her tongue was moving roughly over the sensitive tip of his prick. She felt the trembling flesh under her tongue and was happy.
She was making him happy – and that made her glad. She was pleasing him with her mouth.
She sucked harder. He groaned, then shoved his hips forcefully forward at the same time he pulled her head into his crotch.
The girl suddenly found herself with a faceful of cock. She felt the rubbery tip of his prick bounce off the roof of her mouth. She had just enough time to wallow before the massive prong came surging into her throat.
She didn't choke. She was able to take his cock all the way down her windpipe.
He moaned his pleasure. The wet, pink cradle of her tongue stroked and bucked slightly under his dick. The roughness stimulated the most sensitive area of his cock and made him desire her more than before. Looking down, all he could see was his prick vanishing between her ruby-red lips. It seemed almost as if his cock were growing from her face.
When she swallowed, he was treated to an erotic massage. Her throat muscles moved against his deep-thrusting dong. It was almost too much for the man to endure. He managed to keep from shoving his hips forward even harder. He knew she would have to learn to take him wherever – whenever – he wanted.
Whatever his intentions, Cheryl was unable to keep the swollen rod of flesh down her throat very long. She moved backward and let it slide wetly from her mouth.
Gasping, she shoved it out of her mouth for a moment and muttered, "Is th-that what y-you wanted?"
"Yeah. Don't stop!"
She hated herself. She hated sucking on his prick. She discovered she hated herself worst of all – for enjoying this degradation.
Her cunt was actually beginning to drool obscenely. She felt positively wanton. This humiliating scene was sexually arousing her. She felt a deep yearning in her cunt. It was a hollowness that demanded attention. There had to be a cock driving hard and fast to fill the void between her legs.
If she didn't get it, she would surely go crazy with lust.
She hated what the man was doing to her – and loved every single second of it!
She pulled his cock back into her mouth. This time, her tongue swirled around like a tornado. She touched every bit of flesh near the end of his prick. It received the fiercest, most enjoyable tonguelashing she was able to deliver.
She hated it. And the cock tasted so damn good she couldn't keep herself from tonguing and sucking and lapping at it like some meaty lollipop.
"Go, babe, go!" he cried.
"Ummmm," was all she could answer. This wasn't an easy position for her to answer from. The plug of cock fully engorged her mouth. The way it quivered and jerked around in her face, she knew he was ready to come. It had to be soon. Her sucking was pushing him close to his climax.
The thought of his creamy jism splattering all over her mouth sickened her. Good girls didn't suck men off and then swallow their semen. It just wasn't done.
She felt her insides quake as she anticipated it.
Roger sensed the eagerness of the girl. He moved back a half-step. She almost fell on her face trying to follow his cock. Pulling it almost all the way out of her mouth, he said, "Keep sucking, babe. Keep it hard 'cause I got big plans for it!"
He took a full step back. Cheryl had to go to her knees on the floor to follow him. She clutched fiercely at his legs to keep him from moving away. She wanted his hot jism blasting into her face. The idea horrified her and, at the same time, excited her more than she could ever remember being excited in her life.
Her insides shivering with delight, she sucked harder on his cock.
Roger moved another step back until just the tip of his glands remained in the sucking mouth. He let a little smile touch the corners of his lips. This was fun. He knew what she thought about sucking on a fuck stick. It was degrading for her. He could tell. And it was making her do the very things she hated that turned him on the most. He liked seeing her squirm. It gave him a feeling of power forcing her to suck his cock when he knew she hated every second of it.
"Keep, going, doll. This is nice." He took another step back and she almost fell onto her face.
Looking up with a pathetic gaze, she seemed to say, "Why are you doing this to me?"
Roger smirked. The whipped puppy-dog look aroused him even more. He was going to string her out sexually then pluck her string. He was going to use her, then toss her aside.
It pleased him knowing he could do it so easily. She was so trusting… naive.