Ascending Lauren Ch. 21

"You okay over there?" Hammond asked, grinning, to which Charlie simply nodded.

"Get him some water. We don't need the fuckin' medics here today."

Fifteen minutes later, Wayne indicated he had what was needed, but not before Georgie caught Jason trying to inconspicuously slip into his co-star. To Charlie's chagrin, the chemistry between the two was clear, and left to their own devices, they would have surely had sex, cameras or no cameras. And the crew chief knew it.

"Knock that shit off," he barked. The director wasn't above using fake cum, but he preferred real money-shots whenever possible. Best to save it for the live action.

While the crew moved lighting and sound equipment to the bedroom, the others gathered around a kitchen island, making small talk and snacking on fruit. Charlie and Chloe learned that the set was really a vacation home for a big shot Hollywood movie producer who had vested interest in Bartholin House's success. Whenever the stress in LA got too much, he'd jet to Miami and use his sailboat, conveniently moored at a dock in the canal out back.

"Sometimes even in the company of a Bartholin starlet or two," Wayne winked.

+++++

"Alright, alright, look alive, we're losing light," Georgie came breezing through the kitchen, motioning everyone into the master bedroom. Charlie slowly climbed carpeted steps to a loft with a railing overlooking the entire area. The platform was void of furniture but appeared to be meant for a home office.

"Okay, so, here's the deal," Hammond explained. "They'll be a voice over in post from the wifey's perspective explaining how well the pool party with friends and neighbors went. Now its winding down and the only one left is Fred's boss, Jax. He is SO helpful in cleaning up, and a real nice guy. Kind of cute too. We've already been through the lead-in, now this is where the rubber meets the road. You all remember your lines?"

The three actors nodded.

"Good, let's do it."

After the crew took some meter readings and makeup hit some hot spots, the director called for quiet and filming began.

"I'm sooooo sorry for spilling that drink on you," a smiling bikini-clad 'Millie' led her husband's boss into the bedroom. "Here, let's see if one of Fred's shorts will fit you."

After grabbing a pair of swim trunks from the dresser, Millie held them up to Jax's waist and giggled.

"Nope, these won't do."

With hands on her hips, she suggested the only solution would be to launder them.

"Nothing else to wear," Jax announced slyly, clasping his hands together in defeat.  "I wore these over here."

"No problem," Millie replied, handing him a pair of 'Fred's' underwear, then turned to look away, like any modest, good girl would do. "Put these on, I won't look."

In the loft above, despite mixed emotions, Charlie had to chuckle. As good a stripper, escort, and many a men's unofficial therapist Chloe may be, she was terrible at acting. 

"Cue Fred," Georgie pointed to the veranda. A second later, Ambrose appeared outside a sliding door that led from the bedroom to the patio, wide eyed, nose to the glass.

With the good wife averting her eyes, Jax slid off his trunks, once again displaying the weapon of mass destruction he was famous for. Fred's eyes got even bigger. Seconds later the younger man donned the wimpy husband's briefs only to find they were ridiculously too small for his package. The tip of the cock even protruded from the elastic waistband while his shaved nut sack hung out of the leg holes. Assuming he was now decent, Millie turned around only to cover her face in mock surprise when she saw the alluring bulge.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed dramatically, her fingers slowly parting to sneak a peek.

"They're a little tight," Jax observed, "I may need some help taking them off."

Millie approached her husband's boss seductively. "Of course, and we better hurry before it restricts too much blood, and you have to see a doctor."

Charlie shook his head as he watched his friend kneel and slowly peel down the white undies. Who the hell writes this stuff?

From the depths of the woefully small shorts sprung the massive tool. Then things got real.

"Suck it," Georgie directed Chloe. "But no release, Jason. Save it for the money shot."

Outside looking in, Ambrose's character was beside himself, cheek scrunched against the slider, fists pounding in the door. "What are you doing, honey?" his muffled words could barely be heard inside.

"Hmm, oh this is nice," Millie professed profusely, ministering to the large cock like she had for the stills, only this time more intense and over-the-top. Soon she was taking most of it down her throat and Jax was squirming with closed eyes.

"Fuh-uh-KAH!"

For Charlie, the stew of emotions was just beginning to stir. So, this is how she looks after disappearing behind closed doors; what her regulars at Randy Sandy's were paying top dollar for.

Apparently worth every penny, he thought sarcastically. The club runner wasn't naïve, knowing exactly what happened in the VIP lounges. But it didn't make it any less painful to watch.

Less scripted than the promos, Hammond was letting them go, improvising, doing what porn stars do best. Chloe continued to appear nervous, what with all the lights and cameramen, but she soldiered on, bolstered by Jason's constant coaching.

'Long dives, big licks, lots of tongue.'

'That's it girl. Look at me, eye contact, move your hair, let them see.'

This went on for a while. Occasionally, Georgie stopped the action and repositioned the actors to get a different camera angle. Between takes, Chloe would wipe away perspiration and Jason stroked himself to keep hard. For the man in the loft, however, keeping an erection was anything but difficult. During those times when all eyes were on the performers, Charlie did his own fiddling through what were now extra tight shorts. While it was just another day at the office for most there, it was anything but for him.

When Hammond believed he had the blowjob in the can, they brought Fred in, who proceeded to go off on his beautiful wife as she administered a hand-job to his more virile boss.

'Honey, what are you doing? Millie, he's my boss for God's sake!'

'Mmmm, he can boss me around any day.'

To the casual observer, it seemed like forever to get through the 'hubby walks in' dialogue. At one point Ambrose tripped over an electrical cord forcing a retake. Minutes later one of the crew had a coughing fit which they had to let play out. Eventually, Georgie had the three actors take to the bed while Chloe once again slipped off her bikini top. 'Fred' looked on as the cameras rolled, while Jax played with her tits and told his employee what a lucky guy he was.

"Lucky?" Fred bemoaned aloud, "My wife has another man's penis in her hands! Oh no!"

Groping, fondling, massaging, and stroking, Jax and Millie got down to business, exploring the characters as they explored themselves. Through it all, none of it hit Charlie as hard as when they first kissed. It wasn't a 'I'm getting paid to do this' kiss. It was genuinely passionate; a firework inducing lip lock, hinting that it wasn't just acting between two thespians. He swallowed hard as the two embraced, tongues dancing.

Didn't seem fair, the young Weber lamented. No one knew Chloe as well as he. Her history, her likes, her dislikes.

Her fantasies.

Only him. And yet, here he was once again on the outside looking in, doing nothing while a buff arrogant prick was about ready to fuck his friend.

His girl...

His soulmate.

Despite this, Charlie's dick grew even harder.

+++++

"Have a snack, Jax," the director urged his male star.

With little hesitation, Jax pushed Millie back on the mattress and snatched her bottoms straight off.

Fred the Cuckold Hubby was really starting to get concerned. "OH MY GOD, Mr. Johnson, what are you doing. Please don't!"

"Don't you have a report to get out, Freddie?" Jax scowled at the older man as the bold boss-turned-bull dove into the busty wife's pussy, sucking her lips, tongue darting inside.

Millie moaned. "Yeah, go do your report, baby. Mr. Johnson is taking good care of me."

"Millie, PLEASE!"

"Oh, I'm sure he will please me, sweetie. Unlike your pathetic cock."

"Noooooo!"

The script was corny and predictable, but the action was hot and palpable, with Chloe moaning, fingers running through her costar's hair. Jax licked and slurped the entire length of her crimson-hair lined clam, stopping just before her clit, then repeating. After teasing his coworker for several minutes, he moved to her buttery bean, cajoling, probing, biting and lapping.

Moments later, without any direction from the crew, Chloe opened her mouth and howled, for her very first orgasm on screen that day. Above the fray in the loft, Charlie began to smell the heavy aroma of sex.

"On top, Jax," Georgie directed.

Wasting no time, Jax pulled Millie down on the bed and lined her up, aiming that iconic unsheathed cock at her rosy, landing strip lined slit.

"Nooooo!" Fred hollered again.

"Fuck me, Mr. Johnson. Fuck me like my wimp of a husband can't!"

Charlie winced as Jax eased his tool in her moist cunt, then pulled back, only to repeat, slowly pushing every blessed inch into his friend. Millie squealed with delight.

It was all pure carnal debasement from there...

+++++

The mid-February sun was just beginning to settle behind a row of oak trees that lined the back of the Miller property. Being Monday, Corey was back at work while Lauren made good use of her last two days in Iowa, cleaning out Amelia's old bedroom and packing up knickknacks throughout the home. The realtor had asked that all traces of personal items be removed from shelves and walls for open house. Something about allowing a potential buyer to 'see themselves' in the residence, not the sellers.

When she got to the hall closet, Lauren cracked a smile. On the floor, right next to Corey's bowling ball, was Zane's award.

Top Mechanic of the Year - Zane Presado. 

The one he was given in Bakersfield. The one that she masturbated with while her husband looked on.

Here it had sat since that night in the tub with Corey. Lauren's grin got wider.

Maybe it's time to return it.

+++++

"Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yessssss!"

Millie clutched her roleplaying lover's back as the bona fide porn star settled into a cathartic rhythm. Chloe was trying to get into it, she really was. Not only to earn her pay, but to make Jason glad he picked her as the understudy. And yet, the petite redhead was having difficulty staying in character. Maybe it was the cameras...or the crew...or the lights. Or perhaps it was the knowledge that her best friend in the whole wide world was watching the dancer at her most vulgar.

From above, Charlie could sense she wasn't as engaged as she could be. So did Georgie Hammond.

"Hold up, hold up," the director stopped the filming. "Millie, eh, I mean Chloe...what's going on? Talk to me."

Jason stopped his long strides and paused, dick still inside her slick gash. Chloe turned her head toward the older man and frowned.

"I'm sorry, I'll do better."

"Lines, okay? You have lines. You're fucking your husband's boss and supposed to be rubbing his nose in it."

"Right. Sorry."

"You seem distracted. Would you like me to clear the room?"

The stripper looked around at the crew of five. Most of them seemed bored, if not antsy. They'd seen it all before. Then she glanced upward and saw Charlie in the loft.

"No. I got this," Chloe muttered, never taking her eyes off her friend.

Why was she feeling so sick to her stomach and yet so turned on?

+++++

It was nearly five o'clock when Lauren heard the garage door open and Corey's truck sputter to a stop. Irrespective of what had happened the last few days, the pensive project manager was upbeat when he came through the kitchen door and set his lunch pail on the island. With Lauren leaving to go back to Miami in two days, he was determined to make the best of it.

Grabbing one of her favorite flavors of seltzer along with an IPA, Corey called out to his wife of twenty-eight years.

"Up here," came the barely audible response from the second floor.

Whistling happily as he ascended the stairs, the bullish husband entered the master bedroom with a grin on his face. The melody ended with a slow, drawn-out catcall when Corey saw his wife sitting at the vanity applying makeup. Very sexy makeup.

"Wow," he said aloud. Maybe tonight is the night. Even his cock twitched, sensing optimism.

"What?" Lauren smiled, powdering her face.

"Where are we going? I'll need to change."

Turning to face him on the small stool, she looked at him with a sympathetic half-frown. "No baby, I'm sorry. Not we."

Corey opened the seltzer and placed it on the dresser. The lump that seemed to be a permanent fixture in his throat these days returned with a vengeance. "Oh?"

Lauren glanced towards the glass wrench on the dresser. "I thought I'd return Zane's award before I left."

"By yourself."

"Yes."

Corey nodded, letting that sink in. With only two nights left with her, she wanted to spend one of them with someone else. And not just anyone. Right. Got it.

"I could have returned it for you."

"Oh, I don't mind," she smirked, standing up and walking to her closet. She was a marvel of middle-age, attributable to her near daily workouts. Her forty-nine-year-old pert b-cups still held their shape, although laying a bit flatter these days.

"Will you be back in time for dinner?"

Stroking the ends of her hair as she considered potential outfits, she snickered softly. "I hope not."

"Then when?"

"Well, I wouldn't wait up."

With much disappointment, Corey stumbled shakily to the bed and sat down, the lump growing ever larger until it began to block his throat.

Indecision about what to wear on her face, Lauren blew long bangs away from her eyes. "Can you help me find something? Something sexy."

"You want me to help find you something sexy to return an award?"

Lauren's eyes narrowed. "There, see? You're doing it again. You want me to date, but then you get pissed when I do. That has to change."

She was right of course. She's always right. Corey drew a deep breath and sat up straighter on the mattress. The one in which no more than twelve hours ago she and his best friend had been sleeping. Steeling himself against the stew of emotions that was coursing through his very being, he agreed.

"You're right, I'm sorry. You...you really like him, don't you?"

Still toying with the ends of her jet-black tresses, trying to get them to lay right, Lauren turned back to the closet and held up a turquoise dress to her naked form. "Of course. I've known him almost as long as you. He's our friend."

"Apparently a better friend to you."

Their gazes met in the full-length mirror.

"Maybe you should try sucking his dick sometime," she replied dryly, the innuendo dripping with sarcasm.

Corey shook his head at the dress, causing her to put it back.

"I'm not like that."

"I know." Lauren pulled out a few more outfits. "Just sayin'. He seems to respond favorably to a good blowjob."

Holding up a pair of corduroys and a silk blouse, the goatish brunette looked to him with raised brow. "This?"

Sighing again with resignation, Corey shook his head and went through her clothes. Most of the real scorchers were already in Florida. "I thought you said sexy? Here, how 'bout this?" he posited, pulling out a black jumpsuit. "Zane likes chicks in these."

Lauren looked at her husband with surprise. He was actually playing ball. "And how would you know?", she asked, stepping into the tight polyester Spandex material.

"We, um...talk. When we are out."

"You mean leer."

"We are guys."

Corey couldn't believe he was picking out a hot effort for his even hotter wife to wear for a buddy. As Lauren pulled the one-piece up over her hips and satin briefs, he stopped her. "No lines."

With a knowing smile, she pulled the panties off and tossed them aside. "Good point."

This time, the outfit went on even slower as Lauren made a show of it, spinning as she gradually pulled it up over the ~ EZ ~ tattoo just above her ass crack. Once in place, the gamesome imp twirled around the bedroom, giving Corey a boner inducing runway show. Backless, the jumpsuit featured a V-neck sleeveless bodice, with wide straps that crossed over the open shoulders. The plunging neckline went nearly to her navel, the material barely covering her mosquito bites of breasts. For the next fifteen minutes, he helped her accessorize. Large gold hoop earrings, a couple matching wrist bangles. Suede, open-toed ankle-strap heels. By the time they were done, it took Corey's breath away.

"You look beautiful."

"Why thank you."

Biting his lip, Corey watched as she stood in front of a full-length mirror, adjusting everything so it was just right. He had literally gotten his wife ready for a date. With his best friend.

Lauren sauntered over to her dresser and selected a soft gray cardigan, feeling the hole being burned in her back.

"Okay, what is it, then?" she asked, wheeling around suddenly.

A startled Corey quickly looked at his feet, shifting from one to the other.

"Come on, spit it out."

"I'd like to watch."

"Oh, babe..."

"I just want to be close to you."

Lauren sidled up to his chest and kissed him deeply. "I know. I just don't think Zane's comfortable with it yet."

Yet?

"You mean they'll be more...dates? In a couple weeks there will be no reason to come back here."

Cupping his cheeks in her hands, she looked him in the eyes. "We can't just turn off our friendship with him, can we? Besides..."

With a lick to his nose, she bit the tip gently. "...he fucks me soooo good."

The emotional mélange that washed over her cuckold's face was quite evident. Trembling, Corey went into the bathroom and returned with a condom pack. He held it out to her like an olive branch.  "Here."

"Oh, Honey, we don't need that anymore," Lauren giggled. "Besides, those are yours. I don't think Zane would even get one over the tip."

Pausing at the bedroom door before disappearing into the hallway, the seductress turned back with pouty lips, putting one hand on the doorjamb and kicking a leg out behind her, holding a pose.

"By the way, I washed cum out of your socks. Fresh ones are in the top drawer. You'll need them."

The condescending laughter that followed her as she descended the flight of stairs to the first floor echoed throughout the house, stinging Corey's ears.

+++++

"Are you sure you're okay?" Georgie asked again.

"Just film," Chloe replied, composing herself.

"Good. Roll it."

Jason immediately switched back into Jax the Boss character as he amended their missionary posture and began pumping his still hard rod into her again.

"You like your worthless husband watching me fuck you, don't you, slut?"

"Oh yes, I love your big, stiff cock up my cunt! So much better than him!"

Fred the Hubby fell to his knees beside the bed. "How can you say that, sweetie?"

Chloe summoned her inner Autumn, channeling the hot, nasty and playful alter ego she'd developed over the years. Grabbing Jason's shoulders, she intertwined her feet behind his back and met each thrust, matching his pace, until they were both grunting like animals in heat.

"Now that's fucking," the sound guy uttered.

"Turn her around," Hammond ordered.

Jason quickly flipped his costar and grabbed her hips as she planted her knees firmly on the mattress. Without warning, he slammed his impressive cock back into the wide gaping slit. Moaning loudly, Chloe accepted it all, shrieking as it plunged deep, then withdrew, then bottomed out again.