Chapter 8
Sandra Stone's hands were a little unsteady as she poured Scotch over the ice cubes in two glasses, then added cold water from the refrigerator carafe. She looked beyond the end of the kitchenette table to study Burton Chadwick's face. He sat in a comfortable chair in the Adams' living room.
"You really think I can take care of both those roles without either of them suffering for the divided attention?" she asked as she picked up the drinks and went in to join her director.
"Of course I think so, or I wouldn't have asked you to do it. Look here, Sandra, you're a quick study and you won't have to even think of the Nellie Harkness role until we're all through shooting your scenes on location. By the time we're ready to roll at the studio, you'll have the bloody thing down so well they'll think you damn well are Nellie, the barmaid who couldn't say 'No'."
"Well... I guess I'd be foolish to pass up the chance in that case," she admitted. "Oh! I forgot. You didn't know."
"I didn't know what?" Burton asked, looking at her curiously.
"You offered me the part because you needed a redhead; right?"
"Not exactly, but let's say I did. What's wrong? You'll not convince me that your hair's dyed."
"No. I wish that were all it was. You see, this isn't really my hair. I mean... it is, but it really isn't. Oh, damn!"
"Now, come here and sit down and relax, Sandra. What are you trying to tell me?" She took a heavy sip of her drink and sat in the chair facing Chadwick.
"There was an accident at the studio. One of the hairdressers goofed and all my hair came out. Mr. Gordon came by when it happened and he took over. The best they could do was save the hair that came out."
"What a bloody damn shame!" Chadwick cried. "And just what have they done about it?"
"Well, they're doing all they can with treatments to speed up the growth of new hair. And they made this wig. Of course, if I do lose any roles because of it, there's insurance that covers it."
"Insurance be damned!" Chadwick was frowning his irritation. "That's small compensation... just money... if you lose a role in something that might further your career. But I just can not believe that's a wig."
"There really wasn't enough to do a wig properly," she said. "What they salvaged at the time was partly damaged by the chemical before they got it rinsed out. But I had one stroke of luck... two, really.
"When I was a lot younger, I had scarlet fever and lost all my hair. Mother kept it, and when Mr. Gordon told me they were going to have trouble making the wig full enough, I had her send it to me. The other stroke of luck was that apparently the color hasn't changed noticeably over the years, so they were able to do a pretty good job."
Chadwick got up and went over to Sandra's chair to examine her coiffure more closely. He walked all around her trying to detect a hint of falseness about the way it looked on her head. He had to give up.
"Damned if I can tell it even after you've told me," he said wonderingly.
"You can tell by the feel, a little," she told him. "At least I can. Put your fingers on this swirl here by my ear." Chadwick felt the hair at the spot she indicated, but he could feel nothing unusual about its texture, except that it might have been a bit more dry to the touch than he expected, as if it lacked some of its natural oils.
"Still no reason why you can't have it styled for the role of Nellie, is there?" he asked.
"I'm not sure. They made me decide exactly how I wanted it before they completed it, because they said some of the hair is likely to break if it's restyled too much."
"Doesn't matter," insisted Chadwick, now determined that she should have the role, no matter what. "I say have it restyled and do the part, then see what problems arise... if any. As long as you have the comeback on the insurance, you have some compensation, and I'll do everything I can to promote other parts for you. So, come on, Sandy; jump into it with both feet. We'll face what comes afterward when it's time to face it. Agreed?" He put his hand on her head affectionately, encouragingly, let it slide back to the nape of her neck, then gave her neck a little squeeze.
Unwittingly, he had stimulated one of her more erogenous areas, and she uttered a faint sound, a barely audible moan, as his fingers slipped away to trail over her shoulder casually before he reclaimed his hand entirely.
The added stimulus of his lightly caressing fingers made her gasp. A tingling shudder shook her from buttocks to shoulders and caused her to throw back her shoulders in reflex. This made her breasts thrust out more proudly than ever, straining against the thin blouse she wore.
The contact with her neck and shoulder had excited Chadwick a little, and the sight of her straining mounds triggered his lust quickly. He restrained himself only because he did not want her to think he was taking liberties as a director who had just offered to help her career. He hated that ad's approach to sex which seemed to be the only way many of his contemporaries could score.
But his hand reached out again to pat her arm affectionately. Certainly that would not be misconstrued. At that moment, however, Sandra chose to turn in her chair, intending to look up at him and smile her appreciation of his warm concern.
His reaching hand patted not her arm but the side of her firm breast. This time she moaned a little louder as he made contact with her second most powerfully erogenous zone. And in reflexive response, she thrust the whole heaping handful of her tit snugly into his palm and gasped excitedly.
He felt the springy firmness fill his grasp and his fingers automatically kneaded the enticing flesh through her lightweight bra and blouse. The spongy button of her nipple tried to erect, but the bra was too much resistance. Yet Burton could feel its valiant struggle and it brought a muffled groan from his lips.
"Ohh!" Sandra breathed. "Squeeze it harder!" She could not contain her mounting excitement. Burton needed no more elaborate invitation. He sank to his knees beside her chair and kissed the accessible flesh of her thighs just below the hem of her miniskirt. His hand reached up again to cup her breast and squeeze it in spasmic pulses.
A sigh of pleasure came from her and her knees parted to him. He slipped his face into her lap and breathed the feminine fragrance that rose warmly from her crotch. His lips nibbled at her inner thighs and his nose nuzzled at the springy mattress her hair formed under her panties.
She drew her feet up into the chair, pulling her heels against her buttocks tightly, and moaned happily as he slipped his hands down to her waistband and pulled off her panties swiftly, slipping them up her thighs to her bent knees, then down to her ankles in a single move.
When the garment was out of the way, he feasted his grateful eyes on the sight of her red-gold forest and the colorful pout of her parted labia. But he withheld his urgency to attack the lovely mouth of her cunt. Instead, he took off her blouse and bra, tossed them onto the floor, and took the now erected nipple in his lips.
Sandra whimpered with delight as he nibbled and sucked the bouncy morsel eagerly. His fingers worked its twin to full erection at the same time, and kneaded the entire mound lovingly.
He sucked and kneaded and nibbled, changing tits every few minutes, until he brought tiny tastes of pseudo-milk from the watery supply in her glands. She was gasping steadily, uttering little moans at short intervals.
Then he gave her tits a final kiss and dropped down to eye the entree again. Her excitement was evident, for the swelling lips had parted her bright hairs, even more, and juices were visibly flowing on the lower surfaces of her vulva.
"Burton! Oh, golly, Burt!" she whispered as he pressed his avid mouth to the fountain of flesh and began to drink. "Yesss! Oh, God yes!" she moaned when his tongue started to trace the ellipse of her inner labial circumference. Then he flicked the lump of her hooded clitoris and she cried out happily, thrusting her hips forward, sliding her buttocks toward him on the chair seat.
He slid his tongue into her vagina and thrust it as deeply as its length would allow, testing the texture and trying the taste of her steamy passage. The gasp he caused seemed to last for a long time; then she sighed, exhaling all the air she had sucked in.
"Oohhh! Do it more... it's getting me off!" she cried. And he knew her excitement was peaking rapidly by the complementary in-and-out movement of her pelvis as he licked into her cave of delight. He seized her clit once more and worked it with his lips steadily until she gave a glad shriek and straightened her body stiffly in the initial rigor of orgasm.
He milked the little bud a few more times until she cried out again, then he thrust his tongue back into the honeypot and sucked out the final drops of her dew. When he lifted his face from her crotch, she was a limp doll, raggedly collapsed in the chair, and her breath was a series of harsh, whimpering gasps that made her exposed breasts jump and jiggle in alternate quakes.
Burton took off his pants and shorts without taking his eyes from their steady regard of her beauty. Once more, he knelt on the carpet between her legs. Exhaustion had made her feet slip to the floor. He put them back up in the chair, pressing her heels to her buttocks, then leaned in toward her with his pelvis.
His ready cock was rigidly extended and swinging before him. He guided it into the open maw of her still-convulsing flesh and pressed it past the portals of her entrance. She moaned as he penetrated her, enjoying the fullness of him inside her.
He could feel the gentle spasms of her dying orgasm as her sheath enclosed him milkingly, caressingly, drawing him into her welcomingly. He began to pump himself into her in slow strokes, screwing the heated softness of her clasping cunt with studied deliberation, trying to feel every small part of her with the sensitive tip of his cock.
His mouth found hers and she responded to his kiss wetly, hotly, with enthusiasm. Their tongue traced searching trails, each exploring voluptuously the other's mouth; then as she again began to reach her peak, she whimpered into his kiss and he thrust his tongue into her mouth in deep strokes, simulating the strokes he was continuing as he screwed into her clasping pussy.
Her hips quivered up under him and her cry of completion was muffled by their mouths, but he felt the contracting flesh spasm around his swollen prick tightly as she climaxed. It drew his fluids out of him magnetically, spurting and pumping achingly out of him to flush the depths of her hot, thirsty love-throat.
Their mouths separated as they both gulped in air, and they panted loudly as they finished their convulsive releases. It was not until they released each other from their mutually frantic embrace that they realized how wet they were.
Perspiration lay on their bodies like drops of mineral oil, little hemispheres of bright wetness that decorated them in almost every visible area of their skins.
Burton started to move away but Sandy grabbed him and held him by the shoulders.
"Don't, please! Keep it in me for a while."
He poised on his knees, which were getting tired, and thought about it. He knew that a slight additional movement would disconnect them, but he was extremely uncomfortable. He knew that he had to change position soon.
"Wouldn't it be more exciting to pull it out, then put it back in later?" he asked her.
"Oh! I suppose it would. But how long does it... I mean, will we have to wait very long?"
"That depends," Burton laughed. "But I have to get off my knees before I become paralyzed." He cupped his hand under her cunt and pulled himself out with a wet smacking sound. She put her own hand over the vacated area to minimize leakage and he carefully kept his limber prick in the saucer of his hand until he was on his feet. He went into the tiny bathroom and cleaned himself off so he could rest comfortably without fear of staining anything.
When he returned to her, Sandy got up and followed his example. When she came back, he saw that she had discarded the miniskirt. They rested quietly in their chairs like two fighters waiting in their corners for the next round to begin. They studied each other with open interest, but it was Sandy who weakened first.
She got up without a word and crossed to Burton's chair, where she fell on her knees. Her hand seized the flaccid shaft of his cock and held its limpness upright until she could get her mouth on it.
Burton- was surprised at the quickness with which he responded. Her lips had moved but a few strokes when their soft ring had to expand to accommodate the swelling turgidity of his aroused cock. From that moment on, he just sat there and enjoyed it. And the way Sandy was working on him, it looked as if she was enjoying it, also.
He watched the orange-pink flesh of her lips being pulled into her mouth as her head moved down toward his belly, then being drawn out as they were stretched open by the friction of his glans when her head raised again. He had an urge to screw up into her mouth, to speed up her maneuvers with his own impatient action.
But he closed his eyes and relaxed. His legs moved apart more to give his balls some room and she immediately slipped one hand under them and teased the back of his bag with her nails. A tingling started to grow in his groin as she titillated his nuts and sucked greedily on his aching prick.
It was not destined to last long, he knew. And he had implied that he would stick that renewed shaft back inside her. If he waited much longer, it would be too late. Once he had shot his second load he doubted whether she could harden it enough again.
"You'd... better quit... now, Sandy!" he groaned, feeling the deadline approaching. But she did not slow her actions in the least. "Sandy?... I'm going to... come off... soon!"
"Mmmmmm!" was all she could manage as she worked faster to match the tempo she knew he now would prefer as his moment neared. He saw the handwriting on the wall and gave in. She was caught up in the challenge of bringing him off this way and nothing would stop her outside of pulling away from it. That was more than he could bring himself to do.
"Eat it, Sandy!" he husked, letting himself go completely. "Suck it out, baby... Ahhhh!" His cock throbbed and ejected a jet into her mouth. She sputtered and swallowed and sucked all the harder as the succeeding spurts were pumped out into her gulping throat.
His balls seemed to churn with the force of his come and he groaned at each spasm as his fluid was squeezed out of him. She kept sucking and swallowing even after his final gush, until he had to move her head away with his hands.
"Wow! You really took that by storm!" he told her as he fell back in his chair and panted. She looked up at him with an elfin grin that was mostly pink-orange but included a streak of white at one corner. Her hand grabbed at the hairy thatch around his genitals.
"I got one of those in my mouth, and it tickles," she said.
"Better go gargle and get rid of it," he told her. "The bloody things can drive you crackers if they stay there and tickle."
She went into the bathroom and he heard her trying to find the right spot. She hacked several times before he heard the faucet flowing. Then she came back and took her own chair again.
"I don't quite know how I can keep my promise, now," he said.
Sandy's eyes questioned him. At first she thought he meant his promise to help her career. For some reason, though, it did not seem to upset her in the least.
"I don't think I could insert this limp thing anywhere at the moment," he explained. "And I did intend to put it back where it was so delighted a while ago."
"Neither of us is leaving the area right away, as far as I know," Sandy said, smiling. "There'll be other times, won't there?"
"Oh, I do hope so!" said Burton enthusiastically. "You are a smashing bit of joy, you know."
"You provide quite a share of delight, yourself," she replied. "So you've made me happy in two wonderful ways by coming tonight. I do want you to know I'm grateful for your kind interest in my work."
"I'm always interested in talented craftsmen who take pride in their acting as you do. Even if they aren't lovely and desirable, like you. I did come here tonight, you know, because I wanted you for Nellie, and I'm grateful you're going to take the role. You are, are you not?"
"I certainly am! And if that saloon-floozy hairdo damages my wig, then I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."
"We'll cross it, Sandy. I have a little bit of weight at the studio. Not much, but I'll wager we can find ways."
"Gurney will be ticked to know how nice you are to me," she said in a sudden burst of girlish pleasure.
"He will?" Burton asked, visualizing the look on Gurney's face when Sandy described some of the ways he had been "nice" to her.
"Yes. He's felt sorry for me a lot lately because he thinks I can handle better roles than I've been getting. And I'm not sure it's healthy to have too much pity in a marriage. What do you think?"
"I think you're quite right, Sandy. But Gurney loves you a lot also, I'm sure. And he is a helluva fine man and a good craftsman. Most of his public don't realize just how good an actor he is. You see, he's been getting the money parts, but he hasn't had much of the real meaty bits yet. One nice thing, he can soon afford to hold out for exactly what he wants."
"Yes. But that'll happen sooner if I get some good breaks, too. So we both thank you for your interest. And you know what? I'm going to make you a damn good Nellie. I just might make a few people sit up and take notice!"
"By George, I think you damn well will!" Burton agreed sincerely as he looked into her face. "Well, I shall have to leave." He got to his feet and put on his clothes. When he was at the door, Sandy kissed him on the lips.
"Good night, and thanks," she said. He looked at her still nude loveliness, at the cleverly realistic wig on her proud head, and smiled.
"Thank you, my someday award-winner. June will give you that other script in the morning."
She left the door open just a crack after he had gone, watching him disappear into the moonlit trees near his own temporary residence. Then she latched it and went over to pick up her blouse, panties and bra from the floor.
When she had taken them into the bedroom, she retrieved the tepid drink she had abandoned earlier, added ice and whisky to it, and carried it with her as she chose a dressing gown.
Then she decided to take a fast shower. Maybe Gur would be in the mood for play when he returned. She was a little tired, but she always wanted to be ready for him, just in case.
As she showered, she wondered how he had made out with June. Gur really wanted to do his own stunts, but he had anticipated a bit of a fight, over one of them. Well, he ought to be able to sway June; Gur could sell most anything to a female...