Allison Kilgore's Promotional Tour

"I always like a movie with a happy ending, don't you?"

"Yes, I sure do," he agreed. There was no doubt in his mind that he was most definitely going to buy a number of movies today. This conversation was making his cock swell so badly. It was kind of fun being able to talk to a pretty girl about the pornography one liked, particularly when she starred in the films.

"And, you call me 'Allison.' I'm not your teacher, you know."

"Yes, ma'am, um, Allison," he replied. He sure wished she had been his teacher. He wondered if she ever played a teacher in a movie. He didn't know of one.

"Would you like me to help you pick out a good movie?"

"Sure!" Ms. Kilgore, Allison, probably knew of some pretty good ones.

"Here," she said, turning away but taking him by the hand, leading him along, "I think I know of something you would like."

Michael willingly followed a bit behind, enjoying the sight of Allison's swaying bottom beneath her thin summer skirt. He was reminded of when he was led by the hand by a stripper to a VIP room. It was always a nice stroll, so expectant, the hopes so high, not knowing what precisely was going to happen, but knowing that it would probably be real, real, real nice. He would usually be sporting a pretty darned hard stiffy on the way, not even minding if someone happened to notice it, but that was unlikely. The place was typically so, so dark.

This store was not the least bit dark. On the contrary, it was pretty brightly lit, but it was also equally empty. There was nobody anywhere near to see his erection, with the exception of Allison, and somehow he wasn't terribly worried about that. Strippers were very happy to discover his erection. It was a clear and concrete demonstration of how much he was enjoying their dance, and it likely meant a good tip.

Allison led him down one aisle, turned left, crossed two other aisles, and then turned right down another aisle.

"Here we are," she exclaimed, turned back to face him, and proudly directed his attention to a collection of her movies.

Michael smiled. It was a pretty big display. Alice had probably ordered quite a bit of Allison's movies for her visit to the store. In any case, he hadn't ever fully appreciated how many different movies she had done

She pulled one of the DVDs off the shelf. "Have you seen this one?" She held it by her face with a big grin. It was titled "Upskirt Diaries."

No, he had not seen it, and he instantly knew he wanted to. The cover picture was of Allison, shot from the perspective as if the viewer was down at her feet, looking up at her. She was leaning a bit forward to look down at "him," a little flirtatious smile on her face, knowing that he was looking up her skirt, and both of them clearly enjoying it.

She was just so damn sexy! Her hair was tied in pigtails that were hanging down past her face. She was wearing big round black-framed glasses, through which her funny quirky blue eyes just sparkled with playfulness.

Of course, what perhaps drew one's attention most were those very lovely large round boobs, so tightly encased in a white cheerleading sweater, the name "Midland," in large blue letters, stretching across her breasts. The sweater was perhaps undersized as it appeared to be attempting to crush her boobs, which was really impossible. They were just so voluminous, and they looked so especially big being seen from below, literally towering over one's eyes. She was most definitely not wearing a bra, as their natural shape was more apparent. Plus, her nipples were poking through in a manner that no cheerleading coach was likely to tolerate. His eyes quickly stole a glance at the real Allison nipple stiffness.

"Now, you should know," Allison warned, "this just has soft-core scenes. There's no sex stuff in any of it. It's just me wearing different outfits, you getting a peek up my skirts, and me doing little strip teases."

"All the way?" As soon as he asked he felt embarrassed. What if the answer was no. Would he then decline to buy it? How insulting would that be!

Allison smiled prettily. "Well, of course, silly." She squeezed his arm and pressed a breast against it as she leaned in to add, "What's the point of stripping if you don't go all the way?"

"Yeah, right," he replied, looking a little sheepish. "I think this sounds great," he added, as he took the DVD from her hand. He was being sincere. He very much enjoyed long scenes of titillating flirtation. He could always pop in another DVD for the money shot.

Allison pressed her body, her boob, her nipple, even more tightly against him, to add, "And, I talk to you the whole time, just like as if you were there."

He really liked "point-of-view" movies. It helped so much with the imagination to feel like one was really there, experiencing it first-hand. "Would you autograph it?"

"Well, yes, of course, silly. Once you purchase it then we'll strip off the plastic." She whispered into his ear, "and maybe something else."

Whoa! Did she just say that? Did she mean it the way it obviously sounded? Michael could feel his heart pounding, his cock again swelling. He hoped she wouldn't notice. Wouldn't that be disrespectful, or at least rather amateurish?

She stepped away to pull another DVD off the shelf. "Here, have you seen this one?" She handed it to him. "It's from the 'Panty World' series."

He had seen it, quite a few times. He nodded. He loved that one. His cock was so fucking hard.

"It's one of my favorites, cause I try on all sorts of different panties." In the movie Allison was doing a sleep-over with a friend who was showing Allison all of her different panties and bra sets. Allison tried on a few.

"I remember, you particularly liked the cute ones."

"Oh my goodness, you did see it, didn't you! That so sweet." She again stepped up to him, both of her boobs pressing against him.

He didn't give her more room. Somehow he felt that she wanted them to press up against him and, besides, he was most definitely enjoying it. How many times in your life will a porn star you have always really enjoyed press her boobs against you?

She asked, "What happened next?"

"Your friend's father eventually told both of you to go to bed in separate rooms, even though you were both 18, because you were making so much noise."

"We were being very bad girls," she confessed with a mischievous smile on her face.

Allison had such a cute, quirky smile. He couldn't help but smile in return. "Yes you were," he replied. It would have been even better if the father had given them both a little spanking, right on their fresh new panties, but he didn't mention that.

Allison asked, as if he was telling her some bedtime story, which in a sense he was, "And then what happened?"

"Well, he came by later in the night, I guess to console you."

"I think he did more than console me!"

It was indeed a pretty fucking hot scene. He already had it within his computer library, but he would buy another copy. He took it from her. Somehow it would now have a special sentimental value. "You'll autograph this one as well?"

"I'll autograph every one you buy."

He thought how nice it would be to have a collage of her DVD covers, each one autographed. It was unlikely to ever be worth anything but it would be pretty cool for his home. No way could it be in his office at work though. "Cool," was all though he could manage to say. He took a couple more off the shelf that had nice cover shots.

Allison stepped back, her eyes fixed on his as she bent over to reach down to grasp the hem of her skirt. "I have some very pretty panties on today. Would you like to see them?"

Michael's eyes widened in shock, and arousal. He quickly looked around. They were deep into the back of the store. There were no customers or clerks anywhere within sight. He looked back at her. He really couldn't keep his eyes away for long. "Yeah, sure," he softly whispered.

"Good," she giggled, and slowly, very slowly, with both hands, lifted her embroidered linen skirt up her lily white thighs. She paused just as she reached the apex of the journey. "Are you sure you want to see them? I'm not supposed to do anything like this."

Michael smiled. "Oh yeah, quite sure."

She smiled back and lifted her skirt all the way up so that her panties were in full view.

She was right. They were very pretty. She was wearing rose Ambrielle Mystique two-toned double-string thong panties. Very sheer, but also embroidered with white flowers that did little to hide the camel toe. "Do you like them?" Allison asked, her voice sounding shy and uncertain.

"Oh yes," he replied, his voice clear and certain.

She again smiled. "Well, I guess you do, given that big boner of yours," pointing at the evident bulge in his pants.

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry, really." He covered himself with a hand, the other holding onto the DVDs.

"No, no, Michael," she quickly reassured him. She let go of her skirt and reached out to pull his hand away. "I don't mind. I think it's flattering." She smiled that quirky way as she lightly traced a finger around and around the tip of his bulge. "It's the nicest compliment a guy can give a girl."

Michael was reassured, relieved, and so, so fucking horny. He wondered how many DVDs he could afford. He was most definitely buying more. He reached for another one. It was "Coed Cocksuckers 12," not a particularly creative title, nor were any of the scenes well developed. But, Allison was real good in it nevertheless.

Allison, in real life, began to undo the buttons of her sweater, her eyes fixed on his.

Shock and excitement engulfed Michael's eyes. Allison was, is, going to remove her sweater?! Right there in front of him? In the store? He again glanced around. There was nobody in sight. Was she really going to do this?

Apparently she was, as she continued to undo each pearl button, working her way slowly down the entire front of her pink sweater. As she was getting to the last one little glimpses of her brassiere were being revealed, albeit all he could notice so far was that it was also rose-colored. He wondered if it would be rude for him to take out of his cock. That would, of course, be absurd, if not entirely inappropriate. Stores such as these do frown on customers taking out their erect cocks, no matter how excited they are becoming from a DVD cover, a book, a magazine.

Allison gave Michael her quirky smile and opened up her sweater.

He shook his head in disbelief and wonder. Allison's breasts were truly wondrous. They seemed to be such a clear argument against evolution, for clearly all men would prefer breasts such as these. Why aren't then all women born with such majestic boobs. But, that was an academic question, best left to the scientists to decide. He would ponder them strictly for their aesthetic value, their beauty, their gorgeous lusciousness.

He must also, however, give due credit to the invention of the brassiere, as Allison's natural beauty was being so well enhanced by the feminine finery. The rose cotton fully enveloped each bountiful bubbie, providing them with a perfect roundness, and one that was so gaily colorful and girlish, festooned with little green vines upon which bloomed what seemed like a hundred violets.

And, of course, perhaps most pleasing about the brassiere is that there were two little holes, through which two nipples were proudly standing out so tall and firm against the rose cotton that surrounded them. Now he understood why her nips had been so clearly poking out her sweater so much. He bit his lower lip as his cock twitched in his boxers.

"Would you like to see them without the brassiere?"

He nodded, feeling rather speechless, his heart racing.

His eyes finally noticed her tattoo. Allison had a rather unique tattoo: a thin crescent moon surrounding almost her entire navel. He always wondered about that. What did it mean? Why did she do it?

She smiled and took hold of the front clasp, at first pulling the cups tighter around her boobs and then springing them free, releasing them from their forced confinement.

They popped out so gaily, so cheerfully, bobbling mightily and then settling back down.

Michael suspected that, as Allison suggested, the store owner, Alice, would not appreciate Ms. Kilgore's undressing, but perhaps some wiggle room would be given to artistic license. She is, after all, a visiting actress, and they most definitely wiggled a great deal.

Without the brassiere they did lose some of that perfect round shape, falling a bit, taking on a bit more of a bulbous, egg shape, but it was also a more natural and equally appealing shape. They were just so impressive, so full, so large, so succulent. These were true fleshy milk bags, and he meant that in a very respectful and loving way. Michael so much preferred large natural breasts, and there were probably few that were better than Allison's.

Allison gave them a little wiggle, causing deep waves to ripple across each one. She clutched them still, and squeezed them, the shape distorting like water balloons, and then lifted one up to slip the pointy nipple between her lips, giving it a suck, then a nibble. She then released that one, shiny now with moisture, and shifted to the other, making sure that it did not feel neglected. When she was done with that one she let it go with a final lick, and then held them both up with her hands for Michael to admire, presenting them to him like they were a prized desert for his own special enjoyment.

"They're so fucking fantastic," he acknowledged.

She asked him, like she was offering precious baby twins, "Would you like to hold them?"

"Oh yes," he gasped, his mouth suddenly feeling dry, desperately yearning for something to suck on. He set his DVD purchases on a shelf and quickly reached out, clutching and clenching each one tightly in his hands.

It wasn't a romantic embrace, but that wasn't what Allison had been expecting, or wanting. Michael's touch was more like how an adolescent would first grasp a woman's boobs, the hands so desperate, so hungry, so famished for the feel of soft breast flesh, and she so much enjoyed a boy with a big appetite.

"Oh Michael," she gasped, "I so love a man's hands on my breasts."

"They're so fucking fantastic," he repeated, as if any words were really necessary. He let them rest within the palms of his hands. He was struck by how heavy they were. He wondered what it would be like to have such hefty jugs hanging from one's chest. He bounced them a bit, smiling at how they would ripple and jiggle.

"And," Allison continued, reaching for a box set of DVDs, "here is my newest series, 'Allison's Cosplay Adventures.'"

Well, here is where the fish is reeled in, Michael thought, and he was indeed well hooked by Allison's big soft boobs. How does one turn down a purchase when the saleslady is letting you play with her boobs?

He didn't remove his hands from her breasts. They much preferred to hold onto a couple bulbous boobs than a DVD collection. He did in fact though like cosplay, and he couldn't think of a better actress for such a series. "It does look pretty good," he admitted, his eyes alternating between the fantasy and the reality.

"See? Each one concerns a different costume." She held the cover up just above her breasts so that he could study the picture and play with hers at the same time. "In the first one I play a coed at a small private college, Templeton, where I get into all sorts of trouble with this professor, Mr. Peters."

Michael was imagining what kind of trouble that might be, as Allison looked so cute in her Templeton uniform, those monstrous soft breasts, now clutched within his hands, thrusting out her white blouse.

"It's directed by Joanna Williams. William Dance did the screenplay. I really like his work. And, in the next one," Allison continued, as the man clutched, fondled, and groped her boobs, "I'm a secretary at an advertising agency." She showed him the cover, on which she was wearing a 1960's dress. "I help make a lot of big sales."

Yes, he could imagine that she could, as she was providing a pretty good sales pitch right now.

"I play with the customers' erections as I show them around." She put the series back on the shelf and reached for the belt of his pants. "I think I need to play with you too."

"What?" Michael paused in his groping to, once again, look around, albeit he still didn't let go. Once breasts like these were within his grip he was not about to lose them. Nor did he try to fight Allison's effort to get his pants open. The feel of a girl's fingers working on one's pants was pretty darned sweet. It was only a matter of time before the little wriggling squirming feminine feelers would be crawling all over his stiff snake, and Michael so much looked forward to that.

His dick did indeed pop out like a hungry snake, and Allison quickly took control of it.

"Allison!" Michael suddenly realized that even though there was nobody in eyesight, all locations of the store are likely within sight of a camera. Quite a few persons might prefer to steal porn than to have to purchase it. "What about the cameras!"

"I don't mind being on camera," she replied. "I kind of like being filmed."

Well, that was apparent, but Michael wasn't so sure he wanted to be a co-star. "This isn't going to be on some, like, gonzo website or something, is it?"

"Now, Mikey, don't you worry. We can't distribute it without your signature."

Was that reassuring? Michael didn't know. All that was evident to him was that Allison clearly knew what to do with her fingers, a fact which should, of course, be fully expected. Her fingers alternated between squeezing and stroking his thick, hard shaft, dancing and playing with his tender balls, and tickling and caressing his sensitive knob. There was very little that she apparently didn't know, nor didn't do. She would at times just lightly scratch along the shaft with the tips of her fingernails, or slide her fingertips around and around the knob, or gently squeeze his balls with one hand while working her fist up and down the shaft with the other. Michael squirmed and moaned, entirely at her mercy, as any normal man would when she is so deftly working his cock.

"You know, they make an artificial vagina of me."

"What?" He was too far gone to really process what she was saying.

Allison giggled. She momentarily slowed her masturbation, simply fondling and caressing the shaft, as she explained, "My cunt. They made an artificial version that you can plunge and pump this big hard penis in and out of..." She resumed stroking him as she added, "while you're watching my real one get fucked."

He hadn't planned on buying an artificial cunt. Frankly, he had never used one before, although he had always been a little curious.

She wrapped her fist and fingers tightly around his dick and then slid them up and down, and around and around, covering both the shaft and the knob. It was like she was desperately trying to put out a fire, smothering his cock with her fingers, yet all the time only fanning the flames more furiously. "I guarantee it feels so, so, good. It's just so soft...and tight...and slippery."

Could it be any better than these fingers? He sorely doubted it. He thrust his pelvis out, encouraging her to continue. It did sound, and feel, so good.

She gripped the shaft with both hands and slowly pumped her fists up and down. "Sometimes guys say it's even better than the real thing, cause it's just so intense, every single nerve of your stiff, swollen, hard cock is so tightly squeezed and rubbed by such soft squishy flesh."

He returned her pumping with his own thrusting, fucking her tightly clenching fingers with his swollen yearning cock. "I don't know," he gasped, although clearly on the edge of losing any possible self-control, in more ways than one. It seemed like such an embarrassing purchase. "I'd feel kind of funny," he confessed in a gasping breath.