Chapter 8
She was awakened bright and early, six-thirty to be precise, on Monday morning. It was Ivor Goodson, on the phone.
"Come on," he told her. "Hurry up and get that pretty ass down here. I have a movie in which I intend starring you, and I intend to shoot all the sex scenes in one day. Get down here, now. Don't hand me any crap about your not wanting to do it. We have a deal, remember?"
"Can I at least take a shower?" the sleepy Melanie asked.
"After you get here," he told her. "There's a small bathroom right off the kitchen. It has a stall shower you can use. Hurry up, honey."
Crawling out of bed, Melanie slid into panties, socks, shoes, a skirt, and a blouse. She didn't even bother with a brassiere, knowing in movies like these no one wore bras.
Hurrying downstairs, she hailed a cab and some twenty-odd minutes later she was walking up the steps to Goodson's studio. Once inside, she saw the huge room had been sectioned off to look like an apartment. If the sections had reached to the ceiling it would have been a four-room apartment, but they needed room to swing the mike boom.
Goodson was the only one there at the time, and he showed her the way to the small bathroom. She hurriedly undressed, turned on the water, then stepped into the shower once the temperature was right.
Melanie loved showers. Sometimes she lingered for more than a half hour in a shower or a bath. She loved lingering and scrubbing a washcloth against her clitoris. Now she had all different kinds of things she was able to imagine as the water cascaded down on her, remembering the two orgasms she'd had, both of which had been stimulating and overpowering.
What she didn't know was that Ivor Goodson had opened the bathroom door and was looking at her through the translucent shower door. Staring at her, the photographer felt the bulge in his pants growing bigger and bigger.
For more than five minutes he simply stood there, watching her outline through the glass door, seeing the way her fingers stroked her anus and the washcloth rubbed against her seething clitoris. This was the kind of woman he definitely liked. Ever since that day he had fucked her he had dreamed of scoring with her again. Shit! He would have loved to fuck her right now, but that would mean at least another half hour in the shower as she would continue scrubbing her cunt. Still, he had to admit, he enjoyed seeing the way she played with herself in the shower. Just watching her had turned him on, and his cock was frantically pushing against his pants.
Through the rippling glass he saw her bending slightly now, her lovely knees spread wide apart as she held onto the door for support and began rubbing her aroused cunt all the more quickly with the washcloth. She was on fire and ripe.
Water streamed heavily against her slender body. The lovely woman bent her knees a little as she stroked the inflamed lips of her vagina all the more easily, her mind aflame with images of herself being fucked. She had still to feel a tongue on her cunt, and she was aching for it. One of the male models she had dated had suggested she put her mouth on his cock, but the very idea turned her off. That sounded disgusting.
However that was what was going through the mind of Ivor Goodson. He knew she was great when it came to fucking, but when one made a triple-x movie, one had to show sucking as well as fucking, and it was time to give the lovely lady a crash course in same.
Her obscene masturbation was becoming more and more furious, and Goodson decided he was unable to wait any longer. If he allowed her to reach her satisfaction, she would start cursing him when he got into the shower with her. He had to get in there right now, while she was totally turned on, and so he hurriedly began removing his clothing, leaving it all in a heap on the bathroom floor. His mammoth cock was freed, and immediately jutted forward, straining with eagerness.
"Hi there," he said in a cheerful voice as he tugged the shower door open and stepped into the stall beside her, taking her completely by surprise as he shut the door behind him.
"Huh ... what ... huh ... " was all she was able to say as he stood there before her, gripping his cock, jerking it back and forth while she stood there, bent half-over with the wash rag trapped between the sucking lips of her squeezing pussy.
Oddly enough, she had been thinking about him while she had been masturbating, and now suddenly here he was in the flesh, once again totally naked. Still, it was embarrassing to be caught this way, in the act of masturbating, and she didn't quite know what to say.
"I figured I needed a shower too," he told her. "No use wasting water. We might as well take one together."
"Ivor, this isn't funny," she said, indignant at the idea that he was already taking her for granted. "I'd appreciate your leaving here immediately, if not sooner."
But even as she spoke her eyes locked on the thickness of his wickedly swaying penis. Lord! It was definitely the monster she had remembered, longer and thicker than that of Dick Buller. It was swaying slowly from side to side, moving almost gently like a cobra hypnotized by an Indian fakir. It seemed to be beckoning her to the touch. The thickly engorged and bloated head was such a brilliant purple, and the vertical slit at the end dripped a bubble of clear lubrication, letting it seep slowly out with each perceptible pulsing that rippled through the threatening phallus.
Melanie knew he was up to something. He wasn't after her simply because he liked her that much, or because he wanted to make her daydreams come true. But even though she wanted to toss him out, every aroused nerve-fiber in her being ached for him to stay and fuck her right there, in the shower. Lord! She ached to reach out and touch the demon jutting from between his solid thighs.
She parted her legs as she stood up, and the washcloth fell to the bottom of the shower with a loud plop as his hands already began sliding quickly up and down the length of her arms and over the smooth, wet soapiness covering her small breasts. His fingers began kneading and squeezing the pinkish-brown nipples, as if trying to test their hardness, and she gasped aloud, unable to move. Christ! The son of a bitch really knew how to get to her. His fingers felt so delightfully good. She was dazed by the heated arousal he was building in her, and she knew she was going to do whatever he wanted. He had that ability to control her, and she guessed he had the same ability to control a lot of other women.
"D-don't ... " she whispered softly, hearing her voice above the sound of the shower echoing through the bathroom.
She was afraid of Ivor Goodson, because it wasn't right for any man to have such total power over her, but even as her fears continued building, he came closer and closer to her until his arms surrounded and embraced her, and the throbbing, pulsing tip of his trembling penis now pointed straight up, clamped as it was between their bellies. His hungry mouth clamped solidly down on her own lips, and his probing tongue opened her lips and poked between them, seeking her own lithe tongue in the wet darkness of her mouth. This sent another spate of shivers charging through her shuddering body. The moment their tongues met, they battled as if each was trying to conquer the other.
Damn it all to hell! Maybe she would have to make this damn movie because she had promised she would, but that didn't mean he had the right to personally use her any time it made him happy. But damn it, she didn't have control over her shuddering body, and her thoughts were unable, to control the sudden mewl of thrilled delight that slipped between her clamped lips the moment one of his hands ran down her back into the soapy crevice between her snow-white, trembling buttocks. She had to admit, it felt even better than the washcloth. Yes, she was enjoying the touch of a living, breathing man's hand and fingers rubbing ever so gently across the pucker of her anal ring. She was feeling all excited again, and realized her body was more and more a slave to sex.
"Ummmmmmmm ... hhhhhhmmmmmmmm!" she softly moaned, totally helpless for the moment as his other hand moved through the suds and began easing its way quickly through the heart shaped curls on her pubic mount. The fingers reached down and felt for her clitoris. Finding it, they tweaked them again and again.
Oh Lord! It was good! She'd had no idea how much her body needed sex. She had purposely starved herself since Dick Buller, intent on convincing herself she was not a slave to sex, but the master of it. Lord! It was all so good, so delightful.
Suddenly the roaring thunder of the pummeling shower stopped, and she realized all the soap had been washed off her. The room was breathlessly silent for the moment, and she heard their heavy panting echoing in the tiled enclosure. It was no use. There was no way to fight off the sensations she was feeling. Her inner self fed ravenously on the man's sensuous touch, as well as being aroused by the exciting feel of the bristling hairs on his legs and the swollenly thick, throbbing madness that continued pulsing against her belly.
Totally under Ivor's control again, aided by the devastating fantasies she had continually imagined, she allowed him to move her slowly around as he opened the shower's glass door and stepped outside with her. There was a small sink in the bathroom, and under the sink was a wooden stool. He pulled it out and sat on it, never once taking his lips from her delectable nakedness. His mouth sucked her nipples, then moved down the flat of her belly to her navel, dipping into it for a moment, causing her entire body to vibrate and tremble. Then his mouth slithered down to the glistening wet, heart shaped pubic hairs that surrounded her vagina.
"Mmmmm ... no ... no ... ohhhh yesssssss!" she gasped as his hands tugged at her waist. He pulled her downward until she suddenly found he was no longer kissing her pubic mount, but rather she was kneeling in front of his seated body on the bath mat that was catching all the water dripping from her body.
His hands ran patterns of erotic sensations over her delightfully quivering breasts, making both ripe breasts tremble and quiver even more. Then abruptly, without warming, his hand closed around the nape of her slender neck, and he roughly tugged her beautiful face down to within an inch of the throbbingly engorged head of his thickly pulsating cock.
"Come on, honey," he continued urging softly, his dark-brown eyes insisting she do as he commanded. "This is something else you have to learn. Let's see how quickly you can adapt to it. Suck it for me, honey, suck it real good."
"No!" she gasped. "You stop this," she insisted, but his hand held her steady, and she continued staring at the throbbing, purple-topped tan shaft, feeling her body's passions roused by the sight of it. For the first time she was beginning to wonder if it was possible that she might actually enjoy sucking a man's throbbing penis.
As though she were either drunk or drugged, she slowly allowed the pressure of his hands to continue lowering her head while his hands forcefully guided her mouth until the fiery purplish tip actually touched her lips.
Damn it all! She didn't want to do this. She really didn't want to suck his cock, but somehow she knew she was going to perform this obscene act. He was raping her mouth, damn it! Yes, that was it, he was raping her mouth. She certainly would never perform an act like this of her own free will. Damn! It had to be rape. She told herself again and again that she was the victim of some kind of evil plot, but her mind went totally blank as her lips suddenly involuntarily folded around the thick, throbbing head and she tasted the pungent slippery heat of his throbbing penis.
"Ohhhhhhhh ... yesssssssss!" the man groaned with a certain ecstatic relief as her twining tongue slowly, now voluntarily snaked around the tenderly sensitive corona, leading more of her mouth over the rigidly pulsating shaft. Jesus! It felt so good, so delightful, and she had done it so easily.
Christ! What a fantastic find this broad was; what a delicious cocksucking find. He moaned again and again above her as she automatically continued sucking on the organ. It was almost as if the lovely model was unconscious that she, herself was actually performing this fellatio. She was willing to swear she was only watching and some other female, some unknown woman, was doing it.
Nevertheless, she felt the smooth, spongy tip continuing to rub lewdly against the back of her trembling throat, spreading its seeping fluids across her palate and her thick tongue. The entire thing was totally obscene and wantonly salacious, yet it had become so exciting, her right hand had slipped between her thighs, and she had curved her middle finger, letting it slide into her pussy.
Sucking hungrily at the pulsating phallic lance moving ever deeper into her mouth, she was also rubbing her finger ever more vigorously into the clenching smoothness of her vaginal channel, building tremendous torrents of inner electrical shocks that continually buffeted the moistly sucking walls of her sexual cavern. For Melanie, reality was not pumping in and out of her tightly purse oral lips, but rather a lusty thrusting deep in the seething depths of her steaming cunt. Any other sensation in that bathroom was a dream, completely distorted and very hazy, and totally disassociated from reality.
Her head pushed lower and lower, and the penile point pushed into her throat, touching hidden nerve-endings in there. As a result she felt a totally unexpected orgasm overtake her, and at the same moment she was aware of an impending rush coming from the urethra in the underside of the man's penis as he fired wad after wad of heavy sperm down her gullet. She gulped the fluids down hungrily, thrilling to the taste of it, and at the same time a second orgasm was set off in her cunt. Immediately after that, the organ in her mouth deflated, and then Ivor was toweling her dry.