Scott was amazed as anyone at what happened. He literally could not begin to handle all the calls that came in that night. It was apparent that his off color program of the night before had been the talk of Indianapolis. He was careful to cut off any callers who used obscene language, but he was intelligent enough to know that if sexual propositions and comments were what his audience wanted he had better give them to them.
Instead of going home when his shift ended, he waited around for an extra hour. He wanted to see Hal Ransberg the minute he arrived. Of course, he was not happy about having to confront Rona Barnes after their experience of the night before, but that could not be helped. Actually, he felt badly about what had happened. What right did he have to force himself on the girl like that? In fairness, though, from the way she talked about having sex with her sister and letting her two brothers do what they liked with her, he was not crazy to have jumped to the conclusion that she was receptive to anal contact. The hard truth of the matter was that his conclusion was wrong, and both he and Rona had handled the situation badly. Even though the fault was partly hers, he still hated to face her.
Rona came breezing into the outer office, ready to start work. When she saw Scott sitting on the couch, she froze. "What are you doing here?" she blurted, the fear flickering for an instant.
Scott smiled and hoped the smile did not look as if he were uneasy. "I work here, remember?"
The wariness left her eyes. She smiled. "Of course you do. What I meant was, how come still here at nine o'clock."
"I stayed around to talk to Ransberg. You won't believe what my show was like last night."
"Yes, I would. I listened to most of it." Rona glanced down at her shoes, blushing slightly.
"Oh, I see." There was an awkward pause, and then Scott added, "I'm sort of surprised. I mean, I wouldn't have thought you wanted any more to do with me last night."
She looked him straight in the eye. "No, that's not true. Scott, I'm so sorry. It was all my fault. I led you on with those terrible stories. I can't blame you for thinking that I was ready for…"
"Never mind what I thought. Those weren't terrible stories. They were really great, made me real excited. You know?"
Rona nodded dumbly, listening carefully to the handsome young announcer.
"Scott," she said quietly, her voice so low he had to strain to hear it, "I made those stories up. I don't even have a sister."
His mouth fell open. "Made them up? But they sounded so real."
"I know," Rona answered, giggling despite herself. "They were supposed to."
"You mean you just told them to turn me on?"
"Yeah, I guess you could say so. I'm really not as experienced as all that. I mean, I'm no virgin or anything, but I've never done…"
"What I was trying to do with you?" Scott finished for her. "Gosh, Rona, I'm really sorry."
"What I'm trying to say to you, Scott, is that when I got to thinking about what I'd led you to believe I can see exactly why you did what you did. It's my fault."
He shrugged; grinning at her happily. "It was both our faults. No hard feelings?"
"None. Will you ask me out again sometime?"
"You can bet on it."
Hal Ransberg came bursting into the office. "Good morning," he growled. When he saw Scott, his eyebrows lifted quizzically. "What are you doing here?"
"I stayed around to see you, Sir."
"Good. Give me a chance to go over the mail and come in in five minutes. I'm glad you waited for me, My Boy."
"Well," Rona said as soon as she heard Ransberg close his office door behind him. "He sure sounds different from the way he did yesterday."
"I'll say. He must have heard part of the show. I bet he counted every one of those calls."
"Tell you something else, Scott. Right this minute he's counting something else. You should have seen this morning's mail. Sponsors are clambering for time on your show. You're a hit."
"Jesus, that's great news. Now all I have to do is keep them calling."
"They will, especially if that woman with the sexy voice keeps calling you."
"Oh, you mean my mystery woman. She's something all right. She calls almost every night. You should hear some of the stuff she says to me that I don't let get out over the air. I hope she keeps right on."
"Who is she, anyway?" Rona asked.
"Search me. I have no idea, but I sure would like to find out. You know something, Rona?" Scott said, leaning over her desk and whispering. "For a while there I thought it was you."
The redhead looked shocked. "You did? Why, Scott, I'd never call in like that. It's, well, it's so brazen."
Scott smiled at her, resisting the temptation to say he thought it was no more brazen than making up stories to excite a man. "Got to go now and see the boss," he said, leaning down to kiss her lightly on the end of her nose.
He found Hal Ransberg at his desk, just finishing the morning mail. The way the man beamed at him, it was hard for him to believe yesterday had ever occurred. He rose to his feet, his arms outstretched. "Come in, My Boy. Come and sit down."
Scott bit his tongue. It was all he could do not to comment on his boss' change in attitude. Rona had been right. The mail was full of sponsor requests, and they were all for his show. At least that was what Ransberg's open friendliness made him suspect. Now, he thought to himself, was the time he should have another job lined up, just waiting for him to take it. How he would love to walk out of KSZX and leave Ransberg in the lurch. Then he could get on the telephone to Celia and ask her to join him. He felt sure she would go anywhere, as long as it was not Indianapolis, her plant store and other commitments not withstanding.
He slipped into the chair opposite Ransberg's desk and waited until the man sat down. "What did you want, Sir?" he asked.
"Merely to congratulate you properly on the sudden success of your show. You're a genius, My Son, a real genius. By the way, do you think you have time to run a few extra commercials during your show?"
"I don't see why not. Up to now there have hardly been any. I was feeling like a charity case."
"Well, there are plenty now," Ransberg said, waving the sheaf of papers on his desk. "Seems they all want to be part of your action. I'll get the Ad Department busy on the copy right away."
Scott wondered whether this would be a good time to ask for a raise. The idea struck him funny. Yesterday, he had been resigned to losing his job with the station. Today, he was a hero.
"Ah, I see you're smiling, My Boy, and well you might. You're a big success. It's nice to have you as part of our broadcasting family." Ransberg rose from his desk and extended his hand. The interview was over.
Scott shook the manager's pudgy hand and left his office. Just as he was going out the door, Ransberg called after him, "Oh, by the way, Son, the little woman and I would like you to come over to our place on Friday night. We're having a sort of get together, you know, to celebrate the Christmas season, and we'd like to have you with us. Bring a date if you want to."
"Thanks, Sir. I'd like that," Scott said as he closed the door.
As soon as he was alone, Ransberg hit the intercom button. "Miss Barnes, would you come in here, please. No need to bring your pad and pencil."
Rona knew what that meant, and her heart sank. Ransberg wanted sex again. She hated this degrading ritual he had made a part of her job. Whenever the station manager touched her, she wanted to vomit. Her only consolation was that he did not make his demands very often. His doctor told him he had to slow down. She wished she knew the doctor's name. She would send him a bottle of Scotch. The trouble was when Ransberg did get horny, he wanted all sorts of degrading things from her. How badly do I want this job, anyway, she thought to herself as she made her way back to his office, after making some excuse to get one of the other girls to cover her desk while she was gone.
"Here I am, Mr. Ransberg," Rona said, sticking her head in the door.
"Ah, good. It took you long enough," Ransberg grunted.
"I had to get someone to mind the phones," she answered, trying to look pleasant.
"Come in and close the door. That's it. Lock it behind you like always." He leered at her hungrily. "Now come over to me."
Rona walked across the office to his desk. It was as if she were in some nightmarish dream, just as it always was. Her stomach turned over and over and over again as she approached Ransberg. As she rounded the corner of his big desk, he swung himself around toward her. His pants were open, and he held his fat, stubby cock in his hand.
"See," he said, leering again, "I've got him all ready for you."
Rona tried to smile. What would he want today?
"You ready to take it up the hind end?" Ransberg rasped, waving his short, thick cock at her.
"No. Never. I can't do that," she stammered, her head spinning.
Ransberg chuckled. "Don't worry about it, Honey. We can wait. Both of us are very patient. One of these days you'll be ready to give us what we want."
Monica was waiting for Scott.
"Hey," he shouted, jumping into her Camaro, "this is a nice surprise."
"I figured you could use a little action after that horny show of yours last night." She gunned the engine and eased the car into traffic.
"Oh? Did you hear it?"
"Honey," Monica said, flashing him a big smile, "everybody in this frigging town heard it. You may not know it yet, but you're rapidly becoming a local celebrity."
"I'm beginning to suspect it. The boss actually said something nice to me this morning, and believe me, that's probably a sign of something."
"Who is the manager down there nowadays?"
"His name's Hal Ransberg, and he's a real shit."
Monica nodded thoughtfully. "I thought that's who it was. I went to school with his wife. She's a lot younger than he is, and she's from a rich family. I'm trying to remember the story. There was quite a scandal when they got married. He left his first wife for her. That wouldn't be a story anywhere else, but you have to remember this is Indianapolis."
"Well," Scott said, stretching luxuriously back in the bucket seat, "I expect to be meeting the lassie before very long. Ransberg invited me to a Christmas party."
"That should be interesting," Monica said as she pulled into the parking lot of Roley Towers. "You won't have far to go, either."
"What do you mean?"
"Last I knew Dorry and her husband lived right up there." She pointed to the penthouse.
"No shit? You mean to tell me Ransberg's wife can look down to the ninth floor of the next tower and see you and me in action?"
Monica giggled. "She could if we left the blinds up."
Scott stared up at the penthouse thirty floors above them. All he could see was its wide, covered balcony and floor to ceiling windows glittering in the winter sunshine. "So that's where the boss lives. How the hell does he afford it? He can't make that much loot, even as station manager."
"I told you his wife was rich. Among other things, her father owns the station where you work, which is how come his daughter's husband is the manager." Monica took him by the arm. "Come on and let's get upstairs. I'm so hungry for your prick I might rip your pants off right here in the street."
Scott was rooted to the spot, his eyes still focused on the penthouse at the top of the tower next to his. "Oh, yeah, I'm coming," he mumbled.
"Not yet, Honey, not yet. You're not coming anywhere this morning but in me." She grasped him harder by the arm and dragged him into the building.
As soon as they were in the elevator, she was all over him, her full, sensuous lips closing over his own and her hands running down to touch his already hardening penis. It took Scott less than a minute to forget all about Hal Ransberg, or his wife, or the fact that her father had very probably been the person who saved his job for him.
The second the apartment door closed behind them, both Monica and Scott stripped off their clothing. Monica fell to her knees on the bare floor.
"Ouuuuuuuu," she sighed, reaching out to take his throbbing manhood in both her hands, "I miss this baby so much whenever I'm away from it, I can hardly stand it." She could feel his huge organ jerking sexily in her fingers, and she caressed it lightly from tip to root, her eyes focused on its reddened knob. Slowly she caressed his huge, egg shaped balls, bringing shivers of passion to his muscular body.
The telephone rang.
"Damn!" Monica snapped. "Let the thing ring."
Scott backed away from her reluctantly. "I'll only be a minute. I promise. Go in and turn down the bed, and I'll be right back." He padded quickly to the kitchen, hoping to get there before the caller hung up.
"Hello. Is this Scott Forsmo?"
"That's right." He tried to ignore his rigid, jerking phallus.
"The Scott Forsmo who hosts Night Line on KSZX?"
"The same."
"Well, Scott, this is Hank Snodway, manager of KRAY in Cincinnati. Have you heard of our station?"
"I'll say I've heard of it. You're heard by more people than almost any station in the Midwest."
"More than any station," Snodway corrected. "Mr. Forsmo, have you ever thought of moving to Cincinnati?"
"No, I can't say as I have," Scott answered, his heart pounding.
"Well, think about it. We'd like to have you with us at KRAY."
"Are you offering me a job?" Scott asked bluntly.
"That's about the size of it. We like the things you're doing there in Indianapolis, and we would just as soon you were doing them for us."
"But I don't understand. How do you even know about me or my show?"
Snodway laughed heartily. "We keep our ear to the ground and to the radio speakers of the nation. Think over what we've talked about and get back to me later. Okay?"
"Yeah, sure, Mr. Snodway. Thanks for calling." Scott hung up the telephone, half dazed. Things moved fast in this business, there was no doubt about it. A few months ago he was a disc jockey for a hick station in a hick town, and now he was getting offers from the best stations around.
"What's taking so long?" Monica called from the bedroom. Scott knew she would be waiting for him, her legs splayed wide, her pubic mound rising invitingly for his use.
"I'm on my way," he said, and headed for the bedroom.
"Hmmmmm, that feels soooooo good!" Monica whispered. She splayed her legs further apart, pressing her knee against his buttocks. She reached around in front of him to caress his long, thick penis. It throbbed insistently beneath her gentle, admiring touch and swelled to an even larger size. Her fingers encircled his huge, turgid rod-like erection, and she stroked it slowly, working his fleshy skin back and forth in her palm, feeling the pulsing of his heart as more and more of his fresh, hot blood pumped into his massive organ.
Monica's legs parted a little more, and he could see the beads of moisture that rimmed her tender pink pussy lips. The tempting folds of her cunt flowered open in eager openness.
"Holy shit, are you a cock hungry piece," he muttered as his fingers brushed the base of her vagina. "You're just aching for it, aren't you?"
"Oh, yeah, yeah! Aching for it, Baby. I want that long hard hunk of prick right between my legs!" She squirmed about on the bed salaciously.
"Mmmmmmmmm, Scotty, Baby, you're so big and so hard! Oh, God, stick it in all the way. Stick it up my cunt!" she gasped, hissing with the frenzy of raw passion. She had to quench the ardent fires of her consuming lust, and there was only one thing that could do it, the gushing bliss of his manly semen.
Scott squeezed the soft fleshiness of her large, velvety breasts, rubbing his fingertips over the hard peaks of her brown nipples until he had her moaning aloud with pleasure. She opened her thighs even wider now, her loins wiggling upward until his prick was driven half way into her body.
"Ohhhhh hhhhh, Christ, come into me. Fuck me all the way to the hilt of your big, hard cock. Fuck me or I'm gonna die!" she gasped, her voice pitched high in fervent arousal. Her lips quivered as she spoke, and she was finding it hard to stay conscious. She was near climax, and he had only begun to enter her. She grabbed the shaft of his cock and worked it into her body with a squeal of eager passion. She pushed it between the moist, pink folds of her ravenous pussy, pushing the shaft into her, through the blonde fleece of her lush pubic curls and into the hot, clasping grasp of her burning cunt.
"Aaaaa aaaa aaaa uuuu uuuu gggg gggh! You're inside me. I can feel you in my pussy. God, god, it's so big, feels so big and good. Fuck me, Baby. Fuck meeeeeeee hard!" She tossed her blonde head from side to side and sobbed with raw passion.
With every thrust of Scott's long, stiff prick, Monica gurgled and grunted like an animal. Her buttocks were upturned beneath the weight of him, and the after shocks of his deep stroking made her flesh quiver with delight.
Scott's breathing quickened now, coming deeply, hurriedly. He pushed down hard with all his brutish strength, and the blonde met his thrusts with her own brand of vigor, the passion of a female in heat. She grunted and moaned, tossing he head about, her mouth gaping open, spittle drooling from its corners. Her eyes rolled up in her head. She was crazy with lust. Cock, cock, cock was all she knew and could imagine. She was in heaven.
His cock was pumping in, out of her distended pussy lips. In, out, in again harder than before. The constant sawing set up a wildly hot friction that unhinged her completely.
"Commmmming! I'm, yes, I'm commmmmmming now!" she gasped, her voice loud and harsh with raw, unbridled passion. She shook with convulsions, gasping and sputtering, grabbing for air as the waves of orgasm swept over her totally aroused body.
The trembling, milking sensation of her cuntal walls on his aching cock threw Scott over the brink. "Yeeeeeeeah! Me tooo!" he moaned, tossing his head about and spraying hot drops of sweat over her face. The cum shot from him with one long gusher of whiteness, spattering far inside her and bringing on another series of climactic rushes, driving her even further from the world of immediate reality.
"Oh, Scotty, oh, Baby, Baby, you're so great," she babbled.
"Yeah, Honey. So are you," he answered, burying his face in the dark hollow of her neck.