Slam Pig

Channel 88 was a small time TV station in northern Wisconsin. There had never been a huge audience because the transmission range was only about 100 miles. In 1982, cable TV was still not as well-known as it would be. Larger cities had it, but far flung areas would not see it for a few years and small stations like this filled the void. Programming was sporadic and sketchy which made it more interesting. Advertising revenue relied heavily on local merchants, many of them, hell, MOST of them small businesses. A perfect example being JOE'S BIG TIME ARCADE in Bensonville. They boasted 100 games, both video and pinball as well as over 20 Skee Ball games. Not a huge source of revenue, but it helped pay the bills.

Channel 88 DID have a news department. The majority of the stories were REAL local stories in and around Bensonville. They did have access to national and international news stories and aired them though the, reporters were from the wire services. The anchors were, especially for 1982, very diverse, keeping in mind it was Northern Wisconsin.

The evening and 10 O'clock news was anchored by Chuck Boylston who was 90% English and 10% Polish and Al Gonzales who was 90% Polish and 10% Puerto Rican.

The morning news and noon, the CREAM of the station, was covered by Jeff Jones who was 1/3 Native American and Liz Bellingham who was 3/4 Irish and 1/4 Canadian.

Everyone adored Liz. She was funny, intelligent, and easy going. She delivered her stories with absolute professionalism and yet, never let her personality be stifled. She and Jeff had a great chemistry and truly enjoyed each other, which made the morning news somewhat FUN for the viewers. Doom and Gloom was tempered by a bit of lightheartedness. It was a formula that worked and in years hence, other stations would follow. The only catch, in the views of SOME at the station, was that Liz was a SLAM PIG.

Liz was a lovely person. No matter what, no one could find fault with Liz. The whole Slam Pig label came about from her penchant for showing up in the morning looking, as some liked to say, well worn. She unquestionably liked her off time and her recreational pursuits and most praised her for it. How could any same person condemn a woman for enjoying her intimate pleasures to the fullest and not be considered a complete hypocrite. Liz knew how to live life in an unconventional manner.

Edmund Furstenberg had been one of the associate producers of the news and informative programming for three years. Informative programming essentially consisted of a locally produced magazine program called "Bensonville and Beyond" as well as a fifteen minute segment on Thursdays called "WHAT???" which covered VERY local events, such as Joe Linden's Lemonade Stand Pro-America Rally on Saturday the 10th. What many would consider nonsense, the locals considered GREAT STUFF.

Edmund had his issues with Liz. He was a devoted Baptist who hated the whole idea of SLAM PIG and tried to get Liz to tone down her lifestyle. Liz, to her credit made it very clear that her lifestyle was OFF camera. Edmund made the point that her appearance on air in the morning would pretty much reflect her off air persona. She blew him off. He mentioned that she was well known within her circle of co-workers as a slam-pig and a pillow biter. Liz waved him off. What her co-workers knew and the viewers knew were totally separate issues and since she had constantly received VERY positive feedback from the viewers, she did not, and COULD not see any issues. She was well loved by everyone and it could not have been more clear.

With the field of battle clearly laid out; with the armed camps clearly established, nothing changed even once Edmund became the top dog of producing at Ch. 88.

A story came up about a local hotel that had rented rooms to underage teens for sexual purposes. It was decided that Liz would be the anchor to relate it to the viewers. Doug Lincoln would be the reporter in the field, but Liz would be the lead. Liz knew that hotel but Edmund wanted to keep her INSIDE. It was complicated.

Liz began, "At a local hotel, it's been reported that underage teens had been renting rooms for sexual adventures and lustful shenanigans. Stories of fornication and oral copulation, and Roman orgies galore, have been circulating for weeks. Our man in the field, Doug Lincoln is on the scene."

Doug's report was a bit anti-climactic in that it was found that it was simply underage drinking going on with maybe a make out session. But Liz was now a legend in how she presented the story. Her sensuous delivery was over the top.

Edmund confronted Liz in the hallway. "What the heck. You introduced the story like you were narrating a porno. You already have a reputation around here. Could you calm things down?"

Liz was beside herself. She stared Edmund in the eye and asked, "Are you shitting me?"

Edmund had to pause. He looked her BACK in the eye and asked, "Are YOU shitting, ME?" He waited for a response but when thirty seconds passed and he didn't get one, he added, "What you do in your personal life is your own business, fine, I'm beginning to grudgingly accept that, but you seem to want to drag your personal life into work. Please, do NOT do this."

Liz walked off and said nothing other than, "Sure."

That night, Liz met her most regular, semi-steady guy, Ricky. He loved the fact that she was such a free spirit because for one thing, he loved hearing sexy stories from women about their playful encounters, and Liz had some dandies. Another reason was that it allowed him some freedom of his own. It was a win/win situation. They met at the Old Gas Grill for dinner and a few drinks. Ricky had been working very hard all day at his lumber yard. He'd worked there for over 15 years and was actually tired of people asking, "So, you got wood?" Unless Liz asked him, because she often wasn't being funny, just suggestive. He often did have wood with Liz.

When they left the pub, they headed for Ricky's house, she followed him and the whole ride there, she stewed over Edmund's remarks. Ok, she knew she over did it in introducing the story and yes, she should stick to the teleprompter. Ad-libbing was really not something that was encouraged unless it was simply making some related jokes between the on air staff. But isn't that just what she was doing? It was her style, but she also was quite aware that Edmund now had more power than before and could shove her out the door in a heartbeat, her popularity being of no consequence. Her funk may affect her performance tonight. She didn't want to disappoint Ricky, but maybe that was just going to be inevitable.

They pulled into Ricky's driveway and headed into the house. Ricky asked Liz if she would like a drink and she stated she absolutely did and that's when she finally told him about the day, something she avoided all through dinner. She apologized in advance for any failure to satisfy him tonight. Ricky said he understood and walked around behind her and began to massage her shoulders. It felt terrific. This third drink was also mellowing her out a bit and she began to truly relax. She unbuttoned her blouse and slid it off her shoulders. She also slid off the bra straps to give Ricky more access to her neck, shoulders and the top her back. Then she simply took everything off to give him access to her whole upper torso and she leaned forward. Ricky began to work his magic.

Ricky had a natural talent for massage. He had taken a tantric love course, it seemed they DID exist, and had merged this knowledge with numerous videos of sensual massage on YouTube. He learned well and Liz truly felt it. His hands worked her neck, shoulders and upper back. Her relaxation was beginning to overtake any and all anxiety. She leaned more forward to give him more access to her back and took another sip of her gin and tonic. His hands working up and down and in little circles all up and down her back and he traced either side of her spine with the heels of his hands. Then, as would be expected, he started rubbing her sides from just below her arms to her waist. Then, a little more forward, up and down. Then, he simply began to massage her tits. Well, obviously Liz decided it was time to lean back and she went from total relaxation to mild arousal. Ricky was nobody's fool.

As his hand cupped and gently kneaded her impressive "C" cup breast with 3" areolas and 1/2 inch nipples Ricky loved it when people, ESPECIALLY WOMEN would comment on how lovely they were and that he should consider himself very lucky. He certainly did but enjoyed playing humble. He leaned forward himself and began to lightly lick her neck. Liz moaned and slid her hand between her legs, rubbing her thighs and knees. She was holding out going in for the kill. She was definitely getting a bit wet though.

Ricky knew what he was doing. He kissed and flicked his tongue all over her shoulders and neck. But it was now time to move around to her front. He did so and got on his knees. She smiled at him as he leaned into mouth her breasts. The high beams were on and Ricky was overjoyed. He grasped onto the left nipple with his lips and began to suck like a starving 2-month-old. His hands replaced Liz's on her legs, and he avoided the love triangle as well. Too soon. Build up to it. Tease her.

For her part, Liz began to run her fingers through his hair and pushing his face more against her breasts. Edmund became a non-entity, only Ricky and Liz were in the world at the moment, and Ricky was being a VERY good boy.

Ricky undid her pants. He kissed her belly and slid the pants off. As would be expected she was without panties. She hated the restriction panties caused. That only made her more interesting and exciting. As he slid them off and tossed them to the side, he began to kiss her thighs. Liz would have none of it and shoved his face right into her crotch. "EAT ME!" she growled. Ricky was surprised but not entirely. She'd done this plenty of times. But tonight, her aggressiveness nearly cost Ricky his ability to breath. Still, he licked and sucked and nibbled with such vigor, she eased up, a little. He had to push his head back a bit to hint at his need to live.

Within five minutes, Liz stood up and removed Ricky's clothing. She nearly ripped them off him. Once he was naked, she grabbed his raging hard on and pulled him into the bedroom where she immediately got onto her knees and elbows and buried her face in the pillow, clearly indicating that Ricky should slam her Doggie Style. Ricky was beyond the point of ever asking anything. She always was very clear on what she wanted, how she wanted it, when to change positions and when not to. It was a combination of body language and telepathy. He got behind her. She was reaching up to help guide him in by spreading her sopping wet lips. NO, No oral tonight, she wanted Rick Dick and NOW.

Ricky slid himself in. As the corona of his rigid member slid past the lips, Liz let out a loud sigh then a low groan. Ricky went deeper and his thighs were now up against her ass cheeks. He didn't withdraw right away, he shifted his hips a little and tried to move his member around inside of her. Liz loved when he did this. It wasn't so much that it felt good, it did, but it was more exciting that he was always putting in so much effort. Yes, he enjoyed how it felt, but it was also a bit of work that he figured felt good to her. That was always such a bit of flattery to her.

Ricky did withdraw at this point, being careful not to remove himself from her well lubricated vulva. He wasn't all that big but again, his efforts were exemplary. His pace was slow and deliberate. The sounds were not very distracting yet, but of course as the pace quickened, so did the noise. His thighs slapped against her butt and the splooshing of his cock through her juices were like the sound of a kid jumping in puddles.

Liz was an active participant and was rocking back and forth, grinding her tushy into her lover. She went forward when he withdrew, he plunged when she shifted into reverse. They knew each other's every nuance and it made the love making all the more energetic. Her face was deep into the pillow, but biting it? No, she didn't bight the pillow. Well, there was that one time. Maybe twice but not on a regular basis.

Ricky's orgasm was coming. He tried to delay it. He let Liz know what was happening. She felt a little disappointed but knew if Ricky could hold off, he would. "Ok, babe, do what you gotta do."

Ricky was past the age of child rearing, at least in his mind, so when he turned 35, he had himself fixed. This was one of the things that Liz especially liked about Ricky. He could blow his load deeply inside of her and there was no risk of pregnancy and they did not need a condom. Ricky increased his pace and could clearly feel the semen rushing forward through the shaft and, BOOM, he exploded in her. The give and take continued for several minutes. Ricky was done but had not lost his rigidity.

Liz was now feeling the climax approaching and began to slam herself into Ricky faster, before he lost his erection. BOOM, her turn came as well and she collapsed beneath Ricky's thighs, face down into the pillow. She then fell deeply asleep, Ricky's donation trapped within her tender mound. Ricky climbed off the bed, cleaned himself off and after putting on a pair of shorts, fell asleep beside her, at a mere 9:15. Then again, Liz had to be up at about 4 to be to work by the start of the 6:00 newscast.

Liz always kept extra clothes at Ricky's for just such occasions and when she headed out after an invigoration shower, washing EVERYTHING very carefully, she felt wonderful and determined to be a good girl at work and protect the job she truly loved. She walked in and waved to Edmund and took her seat at the conference table to confer with her co-workers about what the order of the stories would be and what they even would be. Everyone noticed her hair. It was swept up instead of the usual cute bob she traditionally wore. This usually meant she hadn't slept at home because she had a special shampoo at home and if she couldn't use the special shampoo, she knew the hair wouldn't sit just so, so she swept it up. You could read her like a book.

Co-Anchor, Jeff, smiled. If only his wife were so adventurous. Well, maybe not. But he still admired Liz and was quite fond of her stories. As they left the conference room, having set the agenda for the broadcast, Jeff put his arm around Liz and said, "Bight the pillow last night." She just glared at him until she laughed. Jeff could get away with this, period.