On Location

I work as a videographer for a small market ABC affiliate in the Midwest. Where exactly is not important, but it is an area that will be significantly affected by the soon to be imposed import tariffs. It's largely a rural area with a lot of agriculture, about 40% of which is exported, and will take a big hit partly from the tariffs, and partly because the commodity prices are down to their lowest levels in a decade as a result. As if this were not enough, there are also a couple of sizeable manufacturing plants that use aluminum and steel. These operations will also be negatively affected. Gauging the reactions to these now international economic forces has drawn attention to the area, which the news media have caught on to. As a result, we've been getting some interest from the national network, enough that they decided to send none other than Chief Foreign Affairs Correspondent Martha Raddatz to come and do a couple of segments here.

Someone was going to get to ride with her to assist in getting the story. I've had a thing for Martha for a long time. While she doesn't have the sleek form of Diane Sawyer, her slender frame and silky blonde hair have always captivated me. I figured if I were ever going to get to meet her, this was my chance. I pulled some seniority, and volunteered to be her cameraman while she was in town. This was gratefully received by station management, since they knew I would give her a good feel for the area, as well as a professional job in the field.

The day came for Martha to arrive, and I went out to the airport to meet her mid day arrival. I caught her coming down the stairs from the arrival concourse, seeing her before she saw me. She looked sweet in a pair of jeans and a black button down shirt. I could see her small tits bouncing as she came down the stairs, and wondered if she was wearing a bra. My cock stirred at the thought of Martha's braless tits swaying freely as we spent the afternoon together. I waved, and our eyes met. She smiled and waved, and I greeted her as she reached the bottom of the steps.

After our brief introduction, we went to collect her bags from the carousel. I was standing to her left, watching for her case, and a carry on that had been stowed on the puddle jumper plane they use at this airport. I saw them come down the chute together, and told Martha, I'll grab the big one, you get the carry on. As she leaned to get her smaller bag, I got a quick glimpse into her shirt as it fell away from her body. I was right on, and I watched her small, hanging right breast sway as she reached for her bag. This is going to be a fun assignment, I thought to myself.

We walked out to the station's van, where I stowed her stuff, and we got on the road. Our first visit was going to be a factory that made aluminum wheels for the auto industry. They were looking at a double whammy, since they used imported aluminum to make their product, and sold a fair amount of it to Ford and GM assembly plants in Canada, so they were looking at tariffs on both imports and exports. The possibility of layoffs and lost business in the next year was looming large there. I offered to take Martha to lunch, but time was tight, and she suggested we might just have time for grab and go. She thanked me for the offer, putting her hand on my arm as she spoke. Her skin was soft, and I once again felt a twinge of excitement. Lunch turned out to be Subway. It wasn't gourmet, but Martha allowed that after having MRE's in Iraq and Afghanistan, it might as well be.

When we got to the wheel plant, we found George, our station manager, there waiting for us. He had not mentioned he was going along on this assignment, but I wasn't entirely surprised to see him, since we didn't have such notable guests, well, ever; he was also friends with the plant GM. "Just what I need," I thought, "a star struck station manager tagging along." I didn't expect Martha was going to jump me in the van, but whatever chance I had of any alone time was vanishing quickly. We'd had a nice chat on the way to the wheel plant, and were finding we enjoyed each other's company for the first half hour of her visit.

I looked at Martha as we drove up to the plant. "The boss is here," I said to her. "He'll probably want to monopolize your time now that you're here."

Martha looked at him, then me. "We'll see," she said, smiling at me. "I get this fairly often. The local stations don't get to see us network 'big shots' that much, and the local managers tend to get star struck. I can usually work around them. I spoke to him when I found out I was coming here. Hopefully he doesn't want to follow me around like a puppy." I laughed. "Besides, I'd rather spend the time with the production people. They know how to get the work done." Martha again put her hand on my right forearm. "And they're usually more fun to be around." She squeezed my arm and smiled. I don't usually read too much into physical contact such as this. Most people don't mean much by it, it's just a friendly touch, and I don't want to let myself get fooled into thinking that because a woman is hands on, it means she has any interest beyond just conversation. But it seemed Martha was reaching out to me a lot more than I could expect for someone she just met. I wasn't complaining!!

Martha got out to greet George, and I waited in the van. A moment later, she was back, telling me to follow George into the plant, and we'd set up there. We got to our spot, and I did some background video, as well as a stand up with Martha and the plant manager. Then we went in and I shot some video of Martha talking to plant workers as they voiced their thoughts on the tariff situation. In all, we were there about an hour. At the end, we packed up, thanked our hosts, said our goodbyes, and went on to our next location, a steel mill that was expecting to be hit hard by retaliatory export tariffs.

I expected that Martha would be riding with George, so was surprised when she climbed up in the van with me. "You're not riding with the boss??"

Martha smiled. "Nah. I told him I wanted to review some of the video while we went to the next place."

I laughed. "How'd he take being blown off??" I asked, knowing George could sometimes be temperamental, though I was betting his boss had told him to be on his best behavior.

"I could tell he wasn't really happy about it, but he didn't put up a fuss," said Martha, with a chuckle. Then she got a serious look. "The bad news is, he wants to take me to dinner. That, I think, is an offer I can't refuse."

I laughed. "I imagine not. But then, you're the guest of honor, so I suppose he has first dibs. Besides, he outranks me. I'd probably be more fun though."

"I have no doubt. And I'd probably eat better, too."

"So, you going to check some of that video??"

"Nah," said Martha, looking at me and smiling. "I just used that as an excuse to come ride with you." She put her hand on my arm again. Our eyes met. It seemed like we were suddenly looking into each other's souls. Maybe this gentle touch wasn't so innocent after all.

It was about a twenty minute drive to the steel plant, during which Martha and I talked like long lost friends. We were finding we shared a lot of the same thoughts on the world and had very similar outlooks, we had a wide ranging taste in music, as well as our sense of humor being almost dead on. It was a short twenty minutes, and we wished it had been longer.

We met George at the plant gate. The visit to the steel mill was much like the wheel plant, though more specific to that industry's plight. It took about 90 minutes, after which we went back to the station so Martha could do some editing before she went to dinner. We worked together on the computer, Martha often standing over me as we reviewed our work. When she was standing, she almost always had her hand on my back or my shoulder. Sometimes she'd lean toward the monitor as she looked closely for something, and her luxurious blonde hair would brush against me, the wonderful aroma of conditioner mixed with just a hint of perfume filling my nostrils. It was all I could do not to just take her face in my hand, pull her to me and kiss her deeply.

We finished up our editing, and I took Martha back to her hotel so she could change for dinner. As I dropped her off, she leaned into my car. I caught a glimpse of her small, droopy tits as she leaned toward me from the passenger side. I was enjoying the view, even with them being in shadow. Despite being small breasted, she had fairly good sized areolae, and what appeared to be long nipples. I wondered how much they'd grow if sucked on. Martha didn't seem to be in any hurry to get back to her room, and I had the pleasure of seeing her tits for several minutes. We arranged that I would pick her up around 8 the next morning, and we'd head out to more rural parts of the area for the second part of her report. She reached for me, and I took her hand, kissing it. She laughed and told me I was a charmer. I told her to enjoy her dinner.

I got to the hotel a little before eight then next morning, walking into the lobby to meet Martha. She was already down in the lobby sipping coffee and chewing on a Danish as she perused USA Today, under the blare of a TV playing Fox News. Somehow, she seemed to be absorbing it all, which didn't really surprise me. She reached under her paper and handed me a Danish. "Here, breakfast on me," she said, smiling. I thanked her, resisting the temptation to kiss the top of her head. Instead I just smiled and joined her.

We finished up our light breakfast and packed up. "You might want to get a refill on that. We have a 30 minute drive or so to our first stop."

"Oh, OK, thanks," said Martha, putting her hand on my shoulder as she stood. Now sufficiently supplied, we went to the van for the ride to our first farm. As we had the day before, we had a grand time telling stories of everything from our lives as kids to the oddities of professional life in broadcasting. We seemed to be developing a real closeness.

We did a couple of interviews with farmers in an area that grew a lot of soybeans, a commodity that was expected to take a big hit when the tariffs kicked in, and which had also seen a marked decline in the price over the last year. I loved watching Martha out in a breezy soybean field, in dark blue jeans and a light denim shirt, her hair blowing every which way but where she wanted it. I teased her about it later when we got back in the van.

"You look a little windblown," I said, smiling at her disheveled appearance. "That will make you a network star."

Martha blew straight up, making her bangs jump. "Yeah, it's all glamor and glory." She tried to push her hair back into place. I reached over, gently pushing her hair back from her left cheek and over her ear. I was amazed how soft it was. As I got most of it in place, I held her cheek in my hand for a moment. She took my arm in her hand, squeezing it gently, the look in her eyes saying, "Don't ever let go."

It was time for lunch, and I suggested a BBQ joint in knew in the next town, to which Martha agreed enthusiastically. When we got there, I took Martha's hand as we walked to the restaurant, leading her. She didn't pull her hand away, somewhat to my surprise, and I felt her fingers locking with mine. Once inside, she put her hand on my shoulder as we stood next to each other, looking at the menu board. I put mine around her waist, gently pulling her to me. She nestled into my shoulder as I made suggestions for what was good there. Over lunch, I asked her how her "date" with George went.

She laughed at the idea of going on a date with him, but said it had gone about as she expected, a lot of shop talk.

"Did he hit on you??" I asked, knowing full well he was not likely to pass up the chance to bed a world famous correspondent.

Martha laughed out loud. "Ya know, he did ask if he could come up for a nightcap. It's not the first time someone has done that, but I've fended off a lot of his type in my time, many of them a lot more insistent, especially in Washington."

"Yeah, well, George is a big fish in a small pond. He'd probably never get noticed in DC. So, how'd you get out of it??"

"I told him I had to call my husband, which I do every night, and my editor in Washington. That seemed to put him off enough to back down. He wants to have dinner with me again tonight."

Dammit, George, you're fucking up my wet dream!! "Good luck with that. He is a persistent SOB."

Martha laughed. "He is that!!" she said with a broad smile. "He's not in their league though. There's a lot more power playing going on, and a lot more money."

Martha and I finished up our pulled pork and potato salad, and headed out to do one more segment before heading back to the station. It was like the others, and we wrapped it quickly. We had a lengthy ride back to town, and I was looking forward to spending the last part of the day with Martha. At this point, I didn't expect anything more than a couple of broadcasters sharing stories and experiences. I was just glad to have met her after years of watching her. The fact that we got along famously was one of those serendipitous events, and I was enjoying her company.

"How long til we get back to town??" asked Martha as we got back in the van.

"About an hour," I said. "It's a pretty ride. I like doing these remotes. Aside from getting out of the office, I'm always up for a road trip."

Martha smiled at me as I pulled away from the farm we had just been to and rolled to the stop sign at the end of the road. I checked left for traffic, then looked right. As I looked right, Martha was looking me straight in the eye. She reached to me, taking my hand, then stood up from her seat, leaned over and kissed me. It was a deep, soulful kiss. I felt the softness of her lips on mine, then her hand reaching around my head, cradling me as she pulled my face into hers. She pulled away after a good minute, her eyes dancing with uncertainty as she looked into mine. I reached up, enmeshing my fingers in her gorgeous hair and pulled her to me, returning her kiss with every bit of passion I could muster. Martha looked at me, a look filled with love as much as desire. "I think this is going to be a fun ride back," she said softly.

Martha reached leaned toward me and kissed me again, this time her hand was reaching over to stroke me through my shorts. My cock, which had been at least partly hard most of the time I was with Martha, had become fully hard while we were kissing, and was now extending down the leg of my shorts. She rubbed it a couple of times, then pulled the leg upward on my thigh, exposing the head. She rubbed around it, making it swell, then squeezing along the length of my dick, making a drop of precome seep out. She broke our kiss as she smeared it around the head, making more seep forth. She licked her finger, then went back to playing with it.

While Martha was playing, I unbuttoned two of her buttons, allowing me access to her tits. She looked at me, almost apologetically. "You won't find a whole lot in there," she said. "I'm afraid I don't have much for you to play with."

I shifted into park, then took Martha's face in my hands and kissed her. "I have a confession. I have had a 'celebrity crush' on you for years. I've watched you on TV for a long time, and I'm pretty familiar with your shape, at least as it looks from what I've seen on the air and in photos. I know you're not Dolly Parton..."

Martha smiled and cut me off. "Yeah, but I'm 65 years old, my boobs hang low and they're small and floppy. What guy wants to play with that??"

I kissed Martha again, still holding her face as I looked into her eyes. "Me. Don't sell yourself short. I love your shape. As much as a pair of big tits is fun to play with, small natural ones are equally enjoyable. Truth be told, I'd rather have your small saggy tits over implanted DD's every time. I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd ever see this day." I kissed Martha again, her face going into a wide smile as I pulled away from her. "I think you're gorgeous, little floppy tits and all." I undid another of her buttons, reaching in to gently massage her soft right breast. She giggled and squirmed as I tweaked the nipple, making it stand up.

Martha kissed me now, and I pulled her right tit out of her top. I was right about her nipples; having played with the one that now was out in the open, it was standing up a good inch, pointing skyward. I leaned over to suck on it, then gently pull her tit into my mouth. Martha moaned softly as her arousal intensified. Just then a car passed on the main road, bringing us back to reality. I checked the mirrors. Fortunately, nobody behind us.

"We gotta get going," I said, hoping not to break the momentum of our encounter.

Martha looked at me and sighed. "Yeah, we gotta get back to edit this stuff, then I have to meet George for dinner again. He has some media people he wants to impress, so I guess I'm the trophy. I'd rather spend the time with you. You're a lot more fun."

I chuckled at both thoughts. "It's OK. I realize I'm pretty close to the bottom of the pecking order here. Gimme a sec, though," I said, getting up. I found a milk crate in the back of the van, dumping its contents into another box. I took the crate up front, setting it between the seats so Martha would have a place to sit, hopefully while she was playing with my cock as we drove back to the studio. "Have a seat."

Martha took up her spot on the crate, realizing as soon as she sat down what her new position would allow. She smiled at me. "Oh, this makes things easier." She rubbed the right leg of my shorts, and my cock returned to the erect state it had been in when we stopped prior to me digging around the back of the van, and was now pushing out the front of my shorts.

"Hmm, now that I'm out in the open, why don't we get you some fresh air??" Martha said as she popped my belt and undid the button on my shorts, then pulled the zipper down. She reached in and swung my cock around so it was pointing up, and pulled it out. "Lift up," she said, starting to pull my shorts down. I did as instructed, and she had my shorts down to my knees in short order. "That's better," she said, stroking my now freed cock, smiling up at me. Next, she pushed her hair back, licked her lips and took my cock in her mouth. I warned her about an upcoming rough spot. She pulled off me. "Don't worry, I've given road head before." She slurped over my cock again, then looked up and smiled. "I like giving road head. It seems so slutty being out riding with a cock in my mouth, knowing someone might see and figure out what I'm doing." My cock stiffened at the thought as I wondered if anyone would notice that I was getting a blow job from one of the best correspondents in the business as I drove our remote van down the road. I bet she had some good stories about her escapades in this realm, even as I thought I'd never hear any of them.

I was expecting this, but was not ready for how good it felt. Martha let her saliva soak my cock, getting it really wet as she slowly went up and down, her tongue laving it all around as she gently sucked. The bouncing of the van on the pavement added unexpected motion, which only intensified the feeling. Every once in a while, she'd pull away to catch her breath. She look up at me and smile, then kiss up and down the underside before taking me in her mouth again.

While she was catching her breath, I'd play with her tits, making her sigh, and sometimes giggle when I hit a ticklish spot. By the time she went back down on my cock, her nipples would be standing up like pencil erasers, and Martha would have a big smile, her eyes closed as the pleasurable feeling washed over her. We alternated our stimulation for about 30 minutes, til we were getting closer to our home base. I mentioned this to Martha.