Hubris of Youth Pt. 02

"Oh god, Savannah," I groaned, as her lips slid further and further down. "You're the best. Absolutely the best."

She looked up at me and smiled around the mouthful of meat that made conversation impossible, then pointed to the shelf on the wall that held numerous trophies.

"May I assume those awards are for performances of a different sort?" I laughed, watching her head bob in my lap. She nodded, and continued, driving me crazy with not only her mouth, but also the sensation of those massive boobs against my thighs. She kept it up for another few minutes, then moved back up, wiping saliva off her chin.

I sat, my drool soaked erection pointed skyward, and watched her rummage through her bag, before holding the condom she found aloft. Her breasts swayed and jiggled as she tore open that package, and wrapped my package.

"Ready for action," she smiled, straddling me again. Her delicate hand reached under her body, pulled the string of her thong aside, and grasped my shaft, pointing it into her vagina. With a satisfied purr, she lowered herself aboard. "Ah, that's better. Now, please continue with my nipples."

This position was very convenient. I was seated comfortably on the soft, supportive sofa, with my hands on her hips, and her big tits hanging pleasantly right in front of my face. The effort required to reach her nipples was minimal. It was sort of like having sex in a comfy recliner. All I needed was a football game, some chips, and the remote control.

In the absence of a remote, I decided to just go ahead and change the channels manually, using my lips to bring those nipples to full attention. Within seconds of suckling, gentle gnawing, and kissing, I had both nips standing tall, and was alternating from one to the other, in order to keep them that way.

Savannah was holding my head close to her chest, while stroking herself on my cock smoothly. The occasional pause in her up and down motion let her grind against the thick base of my hardness, abusing her clit and moving her ever closer to orgasm.

"We interrupt regularly scheduled programming for this breaking news," she sighed, hanging her head back in pleasure. "This just in... I have a boyfriend, and he has a nice big cock, which does marvellous things to my little pussy."

"This is Nick, reporting..." I joined in, causing her head to whip upright and look at me intently. It didn't stop her riding me, but her smile told me she was amused. "I'm on the scene of that pussy now, and from what I can see, it's very warm, and wet. I get the feeling that the pussy is enjoying itself, and the owner seems happy with the situation. On a related note, the owner of the pussy also has a fabulous pair of tits, which this reporter has personally met. Her boyfriend is a lucky guy."

She giggled, and kissed me, then sat upright again and pulled my face back to her nipples.

"And now, back to our program," she moaned, and picked up her pace a little. She liked it playful. She also liked it gentle, or hard, or rough. She liked to be revered, or treated like a cheap whore. She was many different women, all rolled into one, which was lots of fun, but a little confusing. I had learned to read her moods a bit better by now, and she was pretty good about putting me on the right track.

Right now, that track was up and down rapidly. She was fucking herself furiously on my shaft, and I had been forced to abandon my lip lock on her breasts, now sitting back to watch those big globes dance happily before my eyes. My hands were on her hips, guiding and bracing her through her frenzy of sexual pleasure.

"Oh god, yes..." she moaned, her face contorting. "Oh yes, yes, yes, here it cums, I can feel it! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh FUCK! OH FUCK, I'M CUMMING, BABY! OH YES! YES! YESSSS!"

Her screams pierced the silence, and I found myself wondering it they also pierced the soundproofing of the dressing room. My concerns were put aside while I held her upright, as she bucked and twisted atop me in the throes of bliss. The final spasm wracked her body, and she went limp, resting in my grasp.

"Oh god... So good," she breathed, as I laid her back on the couch. It took me a few seconds to untangle myself from her legs, move atop her, and re-enter her vagina. She moaned as I slid back in, and wrapped her body around mine. "Mmmmm, my man."

I really liked it when she said things of that sort. 'My man' resonated with my soul, and I had begun to think of her in similar terms. She had become more than just an exceptionally enjoyable pussy, spectacular tits, and provider of blowjobs to die for.

With that feeling in mind, I was stroking into her pussy smoothly, and kissing her lips with gentle passion. She had done a good job of satisfying her own immediate needs, so now I could play the long game, and give it to her slowly, building up to a mutual crescendo, if possible. Her pussy was extremely wet, and warm, as were her kisses.

"So, I'm the first guy you've brought here?" I asked, between kisses, while still grinding into her.

"That's right," she smiled, gazing up at me dreamily.

"Why me?"

"Hmmmm, why you?" she asked, her smile growing crooked and mischievous. "Well, I've had hundreds of chances, but my dressing room isn't that big. I'm such a slut."

"Uh huh," I responded, letting the self-deprecating remark fall flat. I continued to fuck her slowly.

"Okay, okay. I'm not that much of a slut," she allowed. "Still, I do like sex, a lot, and on the occasion when my fingers or vibrator just haven't satisfied the itch, I have been known to allow myself to be taken. So, I'm not really a slut, but I'm not a nun either."

"Mmmmm, now that's a naughty Halloween costume I'd like to see on you," I growled, going a little faster. She moaned in response.

"Nude underneath?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"No," I grunted, fucking her deeper. "Your best, most revealing bra, stockings, suspenders, and fuck-me high heels."

"Hail Mary! I'm cumming!" she hissed, and shuddered under my body, while I continued to ream her cunt firmly. As she came down from her orgasm, her eyes found focus again, on my face. "Ooooo. Good one."

"Answer the question, please," I reminded her.

"Huh? Oh! Why you?" she giggled, remembering where we were before the prospect of her in a nun's habit and an orgasm interrupted us. "Well, it's like I told you. Most of the guys I've slept with since my divorce were only in it for a good fuck and a story to tell their friends. They burned their bridges on the first night, and truthfully, I didn't want them back for a second night, either."

She paused. I was still stroking into her pussy rhythmically, but I think the emotion I heard in her voice was from her heart, not her loins.

"Then, we met. You seemed like fun, and I knew you were watching me every time we met on your walk, but you were respectful in your observance," she smiled. "After our first date, I was sure I wanted you to take me home and fuck my brains out... but you turned me down, saying you wanted more than just a trophy. That started me thinking. I wondered if maybe it was time for me, too...if maybe I was ready for more than just a hard fucking. It opened my eyes again." She gave me a sheepish expression. "Incidentally, that night, instead of a cold shower, as you suggested, I spent the entire night masturbating. I think I came six times, all to images of you and me, before exhaustion took me. I've never done that before."

"So, the short answer is that I never wanted to share any of my male partners with my friends, until you. You're the first," she said quietly.

I knew that telling me the whole story must have made her feel very vulnerable. She had bared her soul, and was trusting me not to break her heart.

We had briefly discussed my last relationship, so she knew it hadn't been as long for me as it had for her.

"I care very much for you, too, Savannah," I whispered, and kissed her passionately. Her lips responded with the emotion we had both confessed to sharing, and soon we were fully engaged in a tongue battle. Her hands moved to my ass, urging me to fuck her harder, so I did.

The room was less quiet now, with our wet moans, passionate kissing, and colliding bodies filling the silence with the sounds of sex. The couch joined in, harmonizing with its own squeaks and thumps. We fucked like this for another minute or so before her nails raked my ass, and I could feel her nearing another zenith.

"Oh, fuck! OH FUCK, YES, NICK! YES! FUCK MY PUSSY! I'M CUMMING!" she screeched, bucking under me. Her whole body flexed, and her cunt grabbed my cock tighter. I paused my strokes to watch her cum, and it was quite the sight.

When her eyes opened again, she smiled and pulled me down into her embrace, holding me close against her full breasts. Her legs wrapped around my hips, stopping my strokes.

"Just hold me, baby," she whispered. "Just hold me, for a minute."

So we rested, holding each other in a lover's embrace, while she recovered from her climax. I heard her soft voice in my ear.

"Okay, sweetie. It's your turn. How does doggy sound?"

I don't know any guys who don't like fucking a woman doggy-style. You can be purely selfish, fucking her as hard and deep as you want, with the added bonus of watching your cock plunge in and out of her pussy. For me, that's a recipe that adds up to pleasure.

I lifted off her, and watched her reposition herself, ass high in the air. My cock found its way back into her warmth, guided by her soft hand. With a firm grip on her waist, I began the run up to my own orgasm. The sharp 'slap' of my hips meeting her firm rump filled the room. In the relative silence, it seemed so loud.

The knock on the door, which seemed even louder, nearly made me jump out of my skin. I lurched forward, giving her an extra deep thrust, which caused a yelp of surprise.

To my surprise, Savannah replied, barely concealing our activity.

"Yes?" she said, with difficulty.

"Sorry to disturb you... Just a reminder that we're coming up on one hour to air," the female voice responded.

"Thank you, Tracy," she replied, pushing back against my cock with a soft moan. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Of course, Ma'am," the voice said.

"If you're going to cum," she said over her shoulder, wriggling her sexy ass suggestively, "you'd better get with it. Fuck me hard, honey. I'm supposed to be in that chair in ten minutes, with Tracy doing my hair and makeup, and she can't do that if you're still doing me."

I was going to mention that the room clearly wasn't as soundproof as I'd hoped. If the two of them could converse through a closed door, then her earlier, highly descriptive screams had quite obviously been audible beyond these walls. I say I was going to mention it, but she started to pound herself back on my cock, and moan loudly.

"Come on, baby... Fuck me! Pound me with your big cock! I love what it does to me!" she groaned. If she wasn't concerned about it, then my only worry should be getting myself off. I repositioned myself, braced a foot on the floor, and began to slam my hardness into her furiously.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah, that's it... Fuck my cunt!" she growled. "Fuck me like a bitch in heat!"

My grip on her narrow waist grew tighter, and I pulled her toward me with each desperate stroke, making the collision between our bodies even more pronounced. I really wanted to cum, and was fucking her brains out, something she seemed to be enjoying every bit as much as I was. If not for the numbing effects of the condom, I'm sure I would have filled her with hot semen by now.

Savannah shrieked, and tossed her hair back.

"Pull my hair! PULL MY HAIR! MAKE ME CUM AGAIN, YOU FUCKING STUD!"

I grabbed a handful and gave it a solid tug, to her delight.

"UHNNN! YES! MORE! FUCK ME HARDER! UHNNN! UHNNN! OH YES! CUMMING! CUM..." she screeched, arching her back. It was just what I needed, and I exploded inside her, grunting like an animal, while she retained some of her eloquence. "Oh god yes, that's it baby, cum in me! I love the way your cock flexes and that surge of warmth! It's so good."

For me, words were an impossibility. My head was spinning, and a post-orgasmic tingle had taken over my body, making staying upright difficult. It's a good thing I had her ass to hold onto.

"Wow," I breathed, exhausting my slowly returning vocabulary. "Wow."

Savannah pulled away, leaving me teetering for a moment, before I flopped back on the couch. Her steps were marginally more stable than I felt as she walked into the bathroom.

"Whew. Good thing I have a professional makeup artist, or I'd be in trouble," she called from inside the restroom. "I look like I just got fucked." Her head peeked around the door frame. "Thanks, baby. That was fantastic! I like it gentle, the way you were doing it, but sometimes a little frantic shafting is just what the doctor ordered. Makes for a very big finish."

"My... pleasure," I panted. Two words. Now ask me my name.

In a minute, she was back in the room, recovering her clothes. I watched her dress, before she grinned at me.

"You know, Tracy is a lovely girl, but I think even her discretion has limits," she giggled.

"Huh?" I asked.

"Oh, I just thought you might like to get dressed before she comes in here. Naked man in my dressing room is pretty obvious," she suggested.

"Yeah, and 'make me cum you fucking stud' is ambiguous," I laughed, retrieving my underwear from the floor. "Stevie Wonder knows what we were doing."

"This room is like an embassy... of Savannah-land," she smiled. "What happens in here, stays in here. Just get dressed, okay?"

"Looking for my other sock," I replied, as I pulled my shirt on. It only took a minute to find everything, and head for the bathroom, where the semen-filled condom met its end in the toilet, and I washed up behind closed doors. At last, after checking myself in the mirror, I opened up and went back into Savannah's dressing room.

"Tracy, this is Nick, my boyfriend," she giggled, sitting in the chair and gesturing in the mirror.

"Hi Nick. I've heard so much about you," the petite brunette smiled, holding out her hand. I took it with a sheepish smile in return.

"I'm sure you did. This room isn't soundproof, is it?" I asked, embarrassed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she giggled, and winked, "but it sounded like fun."

"Alright, Tracy," Savannah interrupted. "That's enough flirting. In case you haven't guessed... he's taken." She made eye contact with me and winked, too.

"All the good ones are," Tracy sighed, turning back to her task.

"Honey, why don't you go get a snack. I'm sure you're hungry after all that exercise," Savannah's reflection smiled at me. "There's lots of goodies in the lunch room. You have your pass, right?"

"Um, yeah," I laughed, fumbling with the lanyard which was hanging down my back. "I am a little peckish. You want something?"

"Not now, baby," she replied. "Saving it for dinner. And dessert." Another wink.

"Okay. I'll be wandering around out here," I nodded, and left, pulling the door shut behind me.

Now... Where's that lunch room?

***

Finding my way through the maze of passages and expensive looking equipment toward the lunch room took a few minutes. Along the way, I passed several crew members, all of whom greeted me with a smile, and a nod. It seemed like every one of them was saying 'Good job fucking Savannah. That sounded like fun.'

Or, maybe it was all my imagination, and they were just being polite.

I finally found a passage which looked more like a main road than a parking lot, and followed it, reaching my goal at last. Savannah was right; there was lots to eat in here, with trays of muffins, danish, and bagels, as well as veggies and dip. I was gnawing on a chocolate chip muffin when a hand clapped my shoulder from behind.

"Hey there, young man!" I heard, wincing internally. I expected a security guard, and was fumbling with my pass, when I turned to see Braxton Barnes, Savannah's co-anchor.

"You must be this boyfriend of Savannah's I've been hearing about," he smiled, his voice a distinctive, low rumble that had made him a staple of the local news for decades. He extended his hand. "I'm Braxton Barnes."

"Yes, I know. Nice to meet you. I'm Nick," I nodded, swallowing the muffin quickly, and shaking his hand. My mind immediately did a quick personality assessment. Watching him on TV over the years, he had seemed to be a decent enough person, but Savannah's opinion had differed. 'A sexist, misogynistic bastard' or words to that effect, had been her evaluation.

I was quite sure she had a logical basis for that opinion, and really wasn't looking for confirmation. He provided it anyway.

"So, Nick, tell me... Man to man... " he said, then lowered his voice and looked around conspiratorially. "Those big tits of hers? Are they as soft as they look? Are they fun to play with?"

Uh huh. So, Savannah was being kind when she called you that. The truth is much worse, isn't it? You're actually the kind of guy that makes me ashamed to have a Y-chromosome. Man to man or not, vocalizing a question like that, especially about a co-worker, is just wrong on so many levels, I couldn't even justify a response. Instead, I just glared at him.

"What?" he shrugged. "Come on. You know you were asking the same things before you scored. Don't give me that look."

"How good is your makeup artist?" I asked, turning my gaze away.

"Why?" he answered, oblivious to his own obnoxious nature.

"Because if you ever say anything like that about Savannah within earshot of me again, she's going to have a black eye to cover up," I threatened.

He opened his mouth to reply, surely with some snide comment of superiority, when Savannah appeared at my elbow.

"Hi honey," she chirped, rubbing against my arm. Her presence derailed Braxton, and he merely muttered something about 'seeing her on set' and left.

"That was fast," I laughed, surprised at seeing her so quickly.

"What was that about?" she tilted her head in the direction of the departing asshole. It was so cute when she did that.

"Nothing really, just his way of saying hello, I guess," I shook my head. "I thought you'd be longer in your chair."

"Well, I didn't need as much makeup, today," she giggled. "Seems I have a natural glow going, thanks to you. All she really had to do is my hair, eyes, and lips."

"Oh god, don't say 'lips'," I groaned.

"Nick? Didn't you get enough, already?" she said softly, pressing her body closer.

"There's no such thing as enough of you," I smiled, wrapping her in my arms.

"Aren't you sweet!" she giggled, then tilted her face down, giving me a very sexy glance. "Does someone enjoy watching sexy, lipstick-covered lips... sliding up and down their cock?" she purred, licking her plump, deep red beauties.

"Yes," I croaked. "Someone loves it."

"Well then, keep that in mind, my darling," she smiled pecking me carefully on the nose. "Perhaps you'll get a special treat later."

***

That thought keep surfacing in my mind, as I sat quietly in a tall chair, in the background clutter of the set. I could see her between the cameras, and also on the monitors that lined the bulkhead above. Savannah knew exactly where I was, and her piercing blue eyes found me whenever possible.

Ever the professional, she was all business when the red light was on, but during the station breaks, she wasn't above a little teasing. The pen she used to check her paper copy tapped those intoxicating lips repeatedly, and a sly smile crossed her face.

Sitting in my chair, I couldn't help my mind from wandering back to earlier in the day. That woman over there, so calmly and smoothly reporting the day's events to an enthralled audience of millions... was my girlfriend. I was proud of her professionalism and skill, but pride wasn't the only thing I felt.