Monday, August 24, 2015

Lesson Learned

In the bedroom I took Debbie's blouse off and touched her pert breasts.  I lightly pinched her nipples as she looked down to watch my hands on her milky white skin.

I sat back on the bed and told her to take off everything else.  I still had on my jeans and shirt but had taken off my shoes and socks.  She slid the culottes to the floor and stepped out of her sandals.
Her skin was flawless and there wasn't the hint of a tan line visible as I told her to turn around.  She then turned back to face me as instructed.  Her bush was a brighter red than the hair on her head.

"Do you dye your hair a darker shade of red?"
"Was that part of your makeover?"
"Yes. I had clown hair.  You wouldn't have looked twice at me."
"No doubt. That bright red looks pretty good down there though. Get over here," I said.
I leaned back against the pillows that were up against the headboard and had her lie back against me.
"Do you like to play with yourself, Debbie?"
"Go ahead."
She began to finger herself while I ran my hands over her skin and played with her nipples.  Once she had warmed herself up I reached her pussy with my right hand and eventually filled her with my middle two fingers.  As she rubbed herself I pushed in and out of her wet slit until she arched her back, groaned, and came hard.  Her pale skin glistened.  Within a minute she complained that she was getting cold.  I moved her off me and covered her with a sheet as I got out of bed. I went into the bathroom and took a piss and washed my hands. I came back into the bedroom, took off my clothes, and turned back to the bed.  Debbie had the covers pulled up to her chin and was staring at my cock.

"I'm not gonna fuck you tonight, green eyes.  I don't have a rubber.  But, I'm sure you must be eager to learn how to suck a cock."
Her eyes were wide and she nodded very slightly.
"Was that a yes?"
"Yes. But.... I...."
"Debbie, dear, you came here to get fucked right? The camera stuff was fun but, really, you came here to get fucked, right?"
She nodded again.
"Well, I'd love to fuck you for the next couple hours, but I won't take that chance. Oh, I'll fuck you. Soon.  But, for now, you're going to suck my cock, right?"

I pulled the covers back and got back into bed on my back.  I slid her around on the bed until her head was down at my hips. She took to her instructions well, stroking, tonguing, licking, until she finally got a rush of warm jizz in her mouth which she promptly choked on and let flow back onto her hand and my cock.

"That was a good first effort, girl."

"I don't have to be home until 10," she said.

For the next two and a half hours we alternated me fingering her to orgasm with her sucking my stiff dick.

I walked her out to her father's big Oldsmobile and off she went down the road back to her parent's house.  Twenty year old Debbie M. learned how to operate her camera and, by the end of the evening, had become a pretty good cocksucking slut.


Sunday, August 23, 2015

Proper Camera Use Pt. 3

Debbie swung her left leg around so she was sitting on my thighs facing me.  She put her arms on my shoulders, leaned in and we kissed. After the first kiss I put her camera on the floor.  I couldn't slide back on the couch without pushing her off me and onto the floor.  We kissed some more.  Her nipples pressed against the cotton shirt she had on. 

"I don't want to sound too forward," I said, "but we would be a lot more comfortable in the bedroom," I said.
"OK, but, um, I have to tell you... I've never done... anything."
"This is so embarrassing... but, really, I've never done anything... I never really kissed a boy until just now. On the playground in sixth grade I chased a boy and kissed him but, I kinda don't think that counts."
"Uh, wow, that's hard to believe.  I, uh, seriously?"
"Yeah. I was a bookworm in school.  Bad haircut, glasses, boys didn't look at me. I'm an only child so I didn't have a sister or brother to tell me I needed to be... anyway, I went to college for a year and hated it because everybody else seemed so cool..."

"So, what happened, I mean, you're not like that now..." I said.
"I just decided to change.  I became friends with this girl I barely knew in high school.  She was always overweight, still is but she's working on it, but she's really pretty and, anyway, we just decided to help each other be... you know, to fit in better."
"It's working, Debbie."
I put both hands on her waist and lifted her off my lap and stood up.  I led her to the bedroom.
"Debbie, we're not going to do anything you don't want to do."

Proper Camera Use Pt. 2

Debbie knocked on the door of my one bedroom apartment at 6.
I opened the door and she said immediately, "Is my car safe out there?"
"I told you it wasn't the best neighborhood. Nobody's ever messed with my car but I'm gone a lot more than I'm here. Which one is yours?"
She pointed at a big blue 4 door Oldsmobile. "It's my daddy's car. It'll be OK, right?"
"Don't worry about it." I said, "C'mon in."

She was wearing a light pink, almost white, sleeveless cotton blouse, pale green culottes the length of a micro miniskirt, and white sandals that were kind of like flip-flops.  She smelled fresh and clean.  I had never noticed her wearing lipstick at the school but she was now.  It was a neutral shade and made her full lips look spectacular.  She had a small purse the color of her sandals and a black camera bag.

I offered her a drink. She opted for ice water.  The apartment tour took a couple seconds. We were in the little living room where the window air conditioner was running full blast.  Over there is the galley kitchen... behind is the bathroom which is nearly as big as the living room... and there's the bedroom which is the biggest room in the place.  I told her the crappy furniture came with the place and that my landlady, Cora, was getting me into a nice two bedroom owned by the same people as this place over in a very nice part of town. 

We sat next to each other on the black Naugahyde cushions of the couch and discussed the school, the people that we knew in common, a few other mundane topics and finally I said, "Well, let's see that new camera."

It was a newer, more expensive camera than mine.  I took some time familiarizing myself with it. The only auto function on it was the light meter so it would be easy to show her how to make pictures with it.

She really didn't know how to use it or, if she did, she faked it really well.  I took her through the basics of shutter speed, f stops, focusing, and proper exposure as she sat right against me to my left.
At some point I noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra with that sleeveless blouse-- that fact had become quite apparent.  I found it to be an interesting data point.  (At the time you said to yourself, Holy Shit!- ed.)

I was sitting on the edge of the couch holding her SLR in my right hand as I was telling her about depth of field when she stood up. She was on my left and leaning over so her head was near mine to look at the viewfinder. In some ways it was like she was climbing on top of me... but maybe she was just trying to see what I was showing her on her camera.  I couldn't be certain.  But...she had invited herself to my apartment, showed up smelling great, looking fantastic, not wearing a bra, in hot pants that barely covered her tight little ass.... it seemed pretty reasonable to slip my left shoulder back behind her right thigh, put my left hand on the back of her smooth, long right leg and slide that hand up until I was palming her right ass cheek. 

She wasn't wearing panties either and she never flinched.

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Proper Camera Use Pt. 1

Not long after talking to Roy about the broadcasting school I spoke with my program director about the place.  He said they were legit.  More importantly, he didn't have a problem with me doing some work for them as long as it didn't detract from my work for the station.  I contacted the school, went over to meet the people there and we all hit it off immediately.  As it turned out my biggest problem with them would be that they wanted me to work there far more than I could.

I started doing some work with the school towards the end of a term.  At that point the 30 or so that started out in a given class had dwindled down to 10 or 12.  It was a lot tougher curriculum than people expected and quite a few dropped out.  There was a Monday-Wednesday evening section and a Tuesday-Thursday evening section.  The Saturday group was one section that had two classes, morning and afternoon on Saturday.  So, on any given week there were 3 sections active and on the same lessons.  I was staying away from working Saturdays initially so I was seeing two groups of students, the M-W's and the T-Th's.  There were a couple of attractive women in one group and zero in the other.  I was questioning Roy's acumen regarding women right out of the gate.

We would take a break mid-way during the 6-9:30 PM class.  Students and instructors would get a soft drink... go out in the parking lot and smoke... or just stretch their legs.  When we would break the guys would usually engage me in conversation about what it was like being on-air and other radio related topics.  The two girls would talk to each other.  One night I was standing by myself in the parking lot drinking a Coke when one of the girls walked up alone and started a conversation. 

Debbie was a lovely young lady.  She had very fair skin, almost milky white, with long straight dark red hair.  She had an average build and was about 5'6".  She said she was born and raised there but I didn't hear any noticeable accent.  I knew from her contributions in class that she was bright and well-spoken.  We had a nice conversation, about what I can't recall, and then I called the class back inside.

A week later, in a similar circumstance, Debbie approached me again in the parking lot during break. I had talked during a class a week or so earlier, apparently, about photography and she started her conversation with me this time asking me about using a 35mm SLR camera.  It seems that her parents had bought her a really good camera for her birthday and, she claimed, she couldn't figure out how to work it.  I told her that the only way I could help her with it would be with the camera.

She suggested we get together somewhere away from school so I could teach her how to use her camera.  I suggested that I could meet her somewhere on Friday after 5PM or so.  She suggested that we meet at my apartment.  I was surprised at the suggestion and I told her my place wasn't very nice and the neighborhood wasn't the best.

"That's OK.  Just give me the address and I'll be there at six Friday," Debbie said.
I agreed, gave her the address, and warned her again that my place was kind of a dump and that I would be moving in a few weeks.
"I'll be there at 6.  I can't wait for you to give me lessons in private, teacher."
She went back into the school building and I finished my Coke.

Friday, August 21, 2015

A Plan Is Hatched

I'd been in town about four months or so.  Work was going pretty well.  I was doing the overnight shift on the biggest radio station in a good-sized market in the American South.  The feedback I was getting from the audience was good.  The program director and station manager seemed happy they'd hired me. 

The hours were terrible though.  Five days a week I would be on the air from midnight to 5AM.  I'd get back to my apartment by 6:30AM and sleep until 2 or 3 in the afternoon.  By 10PM or so I was usually back at the station doing show prep and, increasingly, cutting spots and doing sounders that would be used throughout the broadcast day.  They were making me the voice of the station-- without extra pay, of course.  No problem for me. I was happy to have the work.

But those hours were killin' me. On the weekends I couldn't go back to "normal" time because then I'd be wasted at work Monday and Tuesday.  The biggest problem, however, was no social life.  Sure, I had afternoons and evenings open but because I had to be at work later I couldn't get too crazy.  And, because I was at work when everybody else was gone I didn't even know the people at my station.  I'd heard a couple of the women that worked there were gorgeous but I didn't know it first hand.

When I was out shopping or going somewhere to eat during my waking hours I loved what I saw of my newly adopted home town-- a vibrant, growing, busy city filled with beautiful girls.  And those women were friendly too.  At least the store clerks, waitresses and the like that I interacted with were sweet.  To a fish-out-of-water boy from the Midwest they seemed flirtatious.  But, they were actually just very nice to everybody.

So at about this four month mark the station decided to assign someone from the sales department to meet with me once a week or so to come up with ways to increase advertising on my show.  Most of the spots I ran were national-- Coca-Cola, airlines etc. and the idea was to drum up local business.  The guy who had the least seniority got the assignment.  Radio station sales is a tough gig.  The senior guys have the big accounts.  The new hires mainly prospect for new clients.  If they can't make their "draw" in commissions they're out and a new kid tries it.  So, the guy they assigned me, Roy, was eager to make some money and succeed.

Roy and I got along well.  We'd meet for dinner on Wednesdays, normally, and kick around ideas for a few hours.  He'd use a station trade-out for the tab so it was a free meal to boot.  Of course, in addition to talking about business we'd discuss other things-- mainly, sports, cars, and girls.

Now Roy wasn't exactly setting the dating world on fire either so he got pretty restless listening to my tale of woe, especially after I'd filled him in on my recent escapades out west with the trophy wife and her best friend.  I made the mistake of telling him about Peaches and Cora-- who were strictly friends-- and he thought I was crazy to not be trying to bang both of them.  Roy was pretty horny.

One night he came up with a workable plan for me, however.  He told me about a broadcasting school in town.  I didn't see how that was going to help me much plus I figured it was some scam school anyway.  He assured me that they were reputable and above board.  Still, assuming they were legit, how did that help me meet girls?

Roy explained that they used local radio and TV talent to come in and conduct lessons.  They paid decently and the classes were 6-9:30 at night weekdays and all day Saturdays.  They were always looking for more media people to teach or guest lecture.

"So  your answer to my lack of pussy is 'work more hours'?" I said.
"You're not thinking this through, Wil.  Who do you think goes to a broadcasting school?"
"I don't know... geeky guys who think they could be the next Jay Thomas?  Guys who go to Radio Shack and build their own stereos? I don't know."
"Well, yeah.  Some of them would be in the class.  Who else?" Roy said.
"Guys who want to be Tom Brokaw but can actually pronounce the "L" sound correctly unlike him?"
"God you're dense. Stop thinking about guys! Think of all the high school girls in the metro area.  Now focus on the really pretty ones... the ones who people have told are so pretty they should be on TV... or a model... or even Miss fuckin' America."
"So, these girls get out of school and maybe they go to college or maybe they go to work... some of them hear the ad on the radio or see the ad in the paper and figure, 'why not me?'" Roy said.
"Yeah, really, each class is about 30 students. Of those 30 about 5 or 6 are babes.  Total fucking babes.  Every time.  Year after year. Hot chicks! So fucking hot."
Roy was getting worked up about it.
"And you know this how?" I said.
"I went there after I got out of college.  I wanted into the radio TV business and, hey, it worked... here I am in glamorous show business buying dinner for some on-air asshole."
We both laughed.

"So, what's the name of this school again?" I said.