Climbing the LadderbyTV_News_Babe©
I wrote a story recently about my summer vacation and you seemed to like it. That made me wonder if you'd also like to hear some of my experiences along the way toward becoming a TV news babe. So, without commercial interruption, here's how I climbed the TV news ladder.
Chapter One: The Big Break
I was twenty four and not far removed from college when I got a job as a reporter for a small market TV station. I had always been told that my above average looks and body could easily get me into the business, but that it would take exceptional looks or skill to advance. With exceptional looks out of the question without a face transplant, I strove for skill.
I always assumed they meant reporting skills. Little did I know.
My first big break came when the local newspaper ran a series of stories on a local county government official who had been forced to resign for unspecified, suspicious behavior. The newspaper never got the full background story confirmed by a reliable source and no TV reporter was able to get to him.
I knew that if I could be the first to get this guy to agree to an exclusive interview it would be a great addition to my resume.
Cliff Vogelsworth had always been under a microscope in our county for the simple reason that he moved in, waited a couple years, then ran for county-wide office and won on his first attempt. Of course, everyone suspected him of underhanded wheeling and dealing or voter manipulation of some type.
I always admired the middle-aged businessman for his no-nonsense approach to government and the people he dealt with. Sure, he rubbed some people the wrong way. And, yes, that probably led to the trouble he was in now. But he intrigued me.
His trophy wife, Emma, was accused of most anything you could accuse a beautiful woman of doing, but she never spoke in public and was rarely seen outside of Cliff's fundraising functions. So, her aloofness added fuel to the rumor fires.
I made it my sole objective to get the story from him. Being young and naïve, I came up with the brilliant plan of knocking on his door unannounced and asking to talk to him. But I would do it without a camera or notepad. At least, not on the first visit.
I'll never forget the feeling I had when he opened the door that Tuesday evening and I said, "Hello, Cliff? My name's Charlotte. Can we talk?"
He scanned me from head to toe. I had enough sense to wear anything except what a female TV reporter would normally wear. Instead, I had on a t-shirt and jeans. The t-shirt had a swooping neckline that showed plenty of cleavage and the jeans could have been painted on.
Cliff smiled and opened the door wider. "Come on in."
As the door closed, he said, "By the way, I know where you work. Why no camera?"
I shrugged. "I'm not working tonight. Just wanted to meet you and talk. Is that OK?"
I also wanted him to look me in the face, but if it took him that long to determine I didn't have a bra on, so be it.
The grin on his face was mesmerizing. I HAD to find out what was on his mind; what made him tick. I wondered if he knew I was as scared as a little kid in the principal's office.
"OK," he finally agreed. "Nothing's on record."
"You know that's bullshit," I said bluntly, causing his eyes to widen.
Cliff laughed. "Wow. You aren't messing around, are you?"
"Can we still talk?"
He tilted his head down the hallway of the large house. "This way."
We passed a lavish dining room and library before reaching the massive family room. I knew he had no kids and the house showed it. Everything was in place as if a cleaning staff had just left.
"Can I get you a drink?" he offered.
"Whatever you're having," I replied.
On the mantel over the fireplace were several pictures of Emma. The pictures were obviously professionally done and she was obviously a natural to having her picture taken. She was gorgeous, without a doubt.
As he returned, Cliff said, "Emma's at a friend's house. She'll be back eventually."
"You keep her out of the limelight," I said, accepting the beer. "Is that on purpose."
"Her choice," he said, sitting in a chair opposite my couch. "She's a very...um...unique person."
He took a long drink and I looked at him inquisitively.
"In what way?"
He grinned. "I don't think you came here tonight to talk about Emma, did you Charlotte?"
"Unique people interest me. YOU interest me, Cliff."
I nearly spit out my beer and giggled. "No, no. Not in THAT way."
He sulked mockingly. "What? Too old? Too ugly?"
"Neither. Your history interests me," I said. "You arrive, instantly become a major factor in local government, resign under pressure. What's not to be interested in?"
Cliff played with the ringlets of water slowly descending the outside of his bottle. I could see his mind working. Then he said, "Charlotte, you aren't going to learn the story from me tonight. If that was your whole purpose of coming, it will be a short visit."
I took a drink. "I know that. I can't even take notes, Cliff. I said I wanted to meet you and talk."
He nodded. "I'm sorry. It's been a rough few weeks. We can talk all you want, except about that."
"Who are you?" I asked.
More than once that evening I felt I had hit the right chord with Cliff. All I tried to do was talk to him the same way I thought he probably talked to his employees.
"A businessman, Charlotte. A businessman trying to be successful in the twenty first century," he said calmly. "And sometimes that means stepping on toes."
When he paused, I let him look at me. I showed no signs of responding.
He continued: "I should have waited another year or two to find out whose toes not to step on. That was my mistake."
"I thought the campaign would have taught you that," I said.
He shrugged. "I thought it did. Apparently not."
Just as I thought we were moving toward a fruitful discussion, I heard the unmistakable sound of the garage door opening.
"Ah, there's Emma," Cliff said eagerly. "I want you to meet her, Charlotte."
Cliff arose from his chair and made his way out of the family room. I heard the two voices in another room for an inordinate amount of time, but couldn't make out anything they said. Eventually, the couple came into the room side by side.
Dressed in a comfortable blouse and skirt and with no apparent makeup, Emma was still stunning. She neither smiled nor scowled, taking on the neutral expression I had seen in the pictures of her. She was as tall as Cliff, with blonde hair that may or may not have been natural, and a figure that God only bestowed on one woman in a thousand.
"Emma, this is Charlotte. She dropped in for a visit. I hope you don't mind," Cliff said as they came further into the room. "You may have seen her on the news. Don't hold that against her. She seems really nice."
Emma looked at him for assurance, and his grin seemed to convince her. I stood and accepted Emma's nod of welcome. To my surprise, she sat on the other end of the couch after surveying me much the same way Cliff had done at the door.
Cliff said, "She actually came to get the story nobody else has been able to get. But I warned her it wasn't going to happen."
For the first time, a slender uplifting of the ends of Emma's mouth showed an emotion. "You slam the door in the faces of the men, but you let a pretty young girl in for a beer."
Apparently the friendly jab didn't offend or come as a surprise to Cliff, who said, "I knew you'd approve."
Emma crossed her legs and turned just enough to face me a little more as we talked. She seemed to be relaxing a bit.
"We can continue the discussion later if you...," I began to say.
"No. Stay," Emma announced to my surprise. "You're on a mission. You should be allowed to succeed where all others have failed."
"Thank you," I said to Emma. "But my only mission was to meet your husband. The story is his to tell, not for me to steal."
Emma played with the opening at the top of her blouse, seemingly out of habit. "You ARE young, aren't you? I doubt if any of the top reporters at CNN got there by waiting for politicians to voluntarily tell their stories."
"And making enemies of them will speed up the process?" I asked.
Emma's grin broadened. "There are many players in Cliff's situation, Charlotte. You will have to visit many houses on many evenings to compile your story."
"I only need to visit the correct house one time if the person I'm talking to wants their story told accurately and without bias," I replied confidently.
"Charlotte, you're not in college any more. You're in TV news. You're in a business based on biases," Emma said. "If you, personally, don't have an agenda, your bosses do. What's even more disgusting is the fact we've been offered cash for the story—a story they would then distort to fit their own prejudices anyway."
"My bosses don't know I'm here, Emma," I said. "I came with no offers, no cameras, no notebooks. If Cliff or yourself has anything I should know, I'm all ears. Otherwise, it was a nice chat."
Cliff had leaned back, enjoying the exchange to no end. Now he felt obligated to act as referee, if nothing else.
"Charlotte, you are in our house because you are a female; the only female TV reporter on this story, to my knowledge," Cliff said. "Whether your liberated self is ready to accept it or not, your gender brings with it certain advantages. You may have expected to use those advantages to sway me, or you may not have. But I'm telling you now that you have an opportunity nobody else at any other station has, if you are willing to take it."
"An opportunity?" I inquired.
"Emma and I know each other pretty well. She has indicated to me in her own way that she likes you and I think we can work out an exchange of information with you under the right conditions," Cliff explained. "Emma, do you agree?"
"I do," the wife indicated. "I think we owe her a chance after the risk she took tonight."
I believed something good was about to happen but I wasn't sure what it was and I didn't think it would take long to find out.
Emma looked at me and signaled with her finger for me to get closer. "Slide over here, Charlotte."
I shifted to the left along the couch and Emma moved to her right until we nearly touched. Cliff looked on with a sly smile.
"I have a weakness for really cute girls, Charlotte," Emma said in a quiet voice. "You have a need to further your career. Perhaps both of us can get what we want."
Before the reality had totally sunk in, Emma was leaning over and placing her outstretched hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair gently. I let her kiss my cheek, trying not to tilt my head away too noticeably. After the second light kiss, she turned my head with her hand and our lips met. Emma wasn't forceful. It was no more than a man and wife might do upon separating at the door for the day.
But the next kiss had meaning. Emma's lips parted; her tongue followed the outline of my own mouth; I instinctively followed suit. She pulled me closer and we kissed as hard as I had ever kissed any man in my life.
The thought of stopping it passed through my mind one time, for an instant, and never reappeared. I knew this was important and I never expected Cliff and Emma to not keep their end of the bargain. Emma edged closer during the kiss and our bodies met.
It was Emma who backed away for a moment and studied me with her beautiful blue eyes. They sank lower and her face dipped to my neck where she covered it with light kisses. For the first time, her hand fell onto my shirt and found the bottom of my right breast. Her mouth followed the dip of the shirt's neckline until she reached the top of the breast. She licked me and cupped the tit with her hand.
My experience with other women was nil, but the reaction she was causing in me with her mouth and hand was undeniable. Add the fact her husband was watching every move we made and it should have made me want to escape.
Instead, I felt Emma's hand slide up the inside of my shirt and I sat in frozen anticipation of what she had in mind. The hand quickly covered one breast while Emma kissed the other one through my shirt. Then she was unhurriedly lifting the shirt while returning to my lips for another long kiss.
I was overwhelmed with the sensation of Emma's tongue back in my mouth and my breasts being exposed to Cliff. Emma was more frantic now in the movement of her hands over my tits. She kneaded them roughly and pulled on the nipples. I wanted to moan but I had no breath.
When Emma ended the kiss and lowered her head to my chest, I dreaded the certainty of what she would do. I leaned back on the couch. I felt her lips on my bare breasts and my nipples. I closed my eyes, knowing that her mouth was about to close over a large portion of one of my breasts.
My body twitched the first time she closed her lips and ran her tongue over my stiffening nipple. Emma sucked on it and I couldn't suppress my moan any longer.
"That's it, honey. Just relax," Emma whispered.
She was rolling more of her body onto mine. Emma wasn't on top of me, but inch by inch she was covering me with herself while she sucked on my tits and held up my shirt. Then, she was lifting the t-shirt over my head and I was powerless in preventing it as Emma had succeeded in making me want more.
Emma returned to my bare chest and drove me wild with skillful treatment of my breasts. I could feel my pussy getting wetter and wetter and it embarrassed me. And that was before she began kissing her way down my body to the top of my jeans.
I watched her unbutton them and pull down the zipper. I had on small white panties, not expecting them to be seen by anybody else that night, and they came into view. Emma slid off the couch between my legs and yanked on the jeans. I lifted my ass and let her pull the jeans and my shoes off. Emma tossed the pants aside and moved her mouth back up above my panties, continuing to kiss me as she slowly pulled them down until reaching the top of my pussy.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Cliff moving. I glanced over and saw that he had pulled out his cock and it was rock hard, long, and thick. His hand wrapped around it as his wife stripped me of my panties.
My attention quickly returned to Emma when she smiled and said, "Spread your legs for me, Charlotte."
I obeyed and she licked her way up the insides of my thighs until reaching my warm, wet pussy. I involuntarily arched my back, fearful, yet positive, that she was about to place her mouth there. Another woman was going to...
"Oh my God!" I cried out when Emma's tongue plunged inside me.
I gasped as she fucked me with her tongue, exploring every inch of my pussy that she could reach. Emma put her hands under my ass and raised me up for a better angle and I whimpered with delight even louder.
If she had licked my clit one time I would have cum. Either by luck or from experience—and I think it was from extensive experience—Emma realized this and calmly stood in front of the couch.
She reached out her hands toward me. "Get up, Charlotte. I want you to undress me. Please."
I let her pull me up and I began undressing another woman for the first time in my life. Cliff watched and masturbated casually as I fretfully fumbled with Emma's blouse, skirt, bra and panties. To say she had a marvelous body would be a great understatement.
She kissed me passionately when I was done and my hands unconsciously meandered all over her. She had to be forty years old and I couldn't find an inch of fat on her.
"I want you, Charlotte," she whispered in my ear. "Don't be afraid if you've never done this. It will be wonderful."
"Lay on the couch," she told me. "On your back."
When I was reclined, looking up at her, she got on top in a sixty-nine position. We began licking each other's clit in unison. I could taste her sweet juices and held her by the ass, pulling her closer. She had her hands under my legs, separating them for better access.
This lasted no more than five minutes. I needed to cum from the beginning, but was concentrating on Emma's clit. Eventually, her expert handling of my pussy with her tongue and lips took me over the edge.
I couldn't finish. I shrieked when my orgasm began, and then immediately tried to continue sucking on her clit. I was thrusting my hips up to meet her face and Emma obliged by pushing down harder. My body shuddered through multiple climaxes.
Then Emma came in loud groans of ecstasy. I clung to her ass as my tongue slashed across her swollen clit. She cried out my name over and over as each new orgasm began and I hoped, prayed, that it was as good for her as it was for me.
We collapsed in the end with moisture on our chins and the taste of each other lingering on our tongues and lips.
Emma rolled off the couch and said to me, "I have one more request."
We both looked at Cliff and his massive erection. Emma simply motioned toward it and I knew exactly what I needed to do. But before I reached Cliff's chair, he said to me, "Suck me, Charlotte. I want to feel your mouth around it."
I was almost impatient in my moving between his legs and kneeling. I let my fingers slide up his cock one time before doing the same with my tongue. He leaned back and sighed. I held the cock upright, placed it between my lips, and took him in my mouth until it hit the back of my throat.
I gave Cliff the best blowjob I possibly could. With one hand stroking the base of his cock, I frantically sucked on the rest with piston-like rapidity. Letting go of him occasionally, I deep throated him and licked under the head of the throbbing shaft until precum finally leaked out.
His hands held my head in place. His groans signaled the imminent orgasm. And Cliff came with a thunderous howl, accompanied by a long, hard shot of cum into the back of my mouth. I swallowed and took another. A half dozen times I tried to take it all, allowing only a trickle to escape onto my chin.
When he was done, I licked him again, sucked some more, and attained a few more drops. Only then did he insist I stop.
Details of what he and Emma told me that night aren't necessary, but the gist was he had uncovered a scheme by land developers to defraud the county. My subsequent public record requests and interviews with the parties involved led to indictments of the guilty and the clearing of Cliff's name.
My 'relationship' with Cliff and Emma lasted a couple years longer.
Chapter Two: They're Called Videographers
My series involving the land developers eventually caught the eye of the manager of a larger market station in a neighboring state and I swiftly accepted their job offer as a reporter.
I was twenty six, almost twenty seven, and gaining confidence with each new assignment. I also found that stations with bigger budgets could afford better equipment, and better personnel.
The technical term for the guys, typically, that lug around those heavy cameras all day and make the reporters look good is videographer. Most videographers are nice enough and fun to be around, but like in any work environment you get the occasional asshole.
At my new station there was a camera guy named Phil that I particularly enjoyed. Phil said he was thirty, but he looked much younger than that. He had a very brief semi-pro baseball career and kept his athletic physique after getting a 'real job' at our station. He had the greatest, thickest hair of any man I'd ever seen. It wasn't l980's hair band long, but wonderfully flowing. And...he was single.
Phil and I started socializing not long after I started working there and I learned bits and pieces of his past and present. One day at lunch, while we were on an assignment, we got into the topic of hobbies.