Chapter 88

Saturday, July 21

I was really not looking forward to the modeling shoot as I dragged myself out of bed Saturday morning. It would be my first confrontation with Julia Fairchild and Marie Benson since my three-day fuckfest and unknowing attempt to impregnate my agent’s assistant/submissive.

Dad was finishing a cup of coffee before heading out to play golf. He’d already gotten his update on the third round of the British Open. Tiger Woods was already in with a 66 to get to 5-under. Jordan Spieth and Xander Schauffele were moving up the leaderboard, while Kevin Kisner was battling to stay in the lead. I’d just have to get caught up on the rest after I finished today’s shoot.

A couple of bowls of cereal should get me through the morning, but the studio was always well-stocked with snacks to see us through the day. I was on the road a little after 7 and in a makeup chair by 8.

One development that worked in my favor was Julia and Marie were off on another project, leaving Armand in charge of this shoot and eliminating what would have surely been an awkward encounter as far as I was concerned. The agency’s artistic director ordered models, photographers and various assistants around just as if he’d been running shoots for years.

It was pretty much a straightforward shoot. Models were given outfits to wear and ushered to photographers who told us how to pose. The backgrounds were all plain white. Scenes would be created using Photoshop. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that one of the shots taken this weekend could be paired with one taken two or three years ago to create an acceptable image.

The biggest thing I was involved in Saturday was an underwear shoot. Nothing outrageous, just plain white T-shirts and jockey shorts. Being used to boxers as I was, the tighty whities were considerably snugger than I was accustomed to, but not as bad as the Speedo I’d worn for my sister and Morgan two months ago.

Armand didn’t even stare. Much. He was rather enamored of a couple of college-age guys who seemed ready to sneak off to a deserted corner together at the first opportunity.

I was allowed to put on some outerwear in time for our lunch break, which was spent with Jenny Smith and her mom. From the way Jenny monopolized my free time during the shoot, I got the feeling I was being used as a practice boyfriend by another preteen. I hoped Molly Harris didn’t think I was stepping out on her.

It was probably for the best as Jenny prevented me being targeted by any of the females in my own age group or even older. It wouldn’t surprise me if Arlene hadn’t had a hand in things just to keep me out of trouble. It’s not like I’d been chasing any during my previous assignments. Marie had been my only lover from the local modeling scene. I hadn’t really had a chance, let alone the desire, to look for more.

About 11 a.m., I received a text from Morgan that her flight had landed. A couple of hours later, she informed me she was finally back home with a boatload of dirty laundry. I wasn’t sure how things were supposed to work with the sleepover. I couldn’t see her parents letting her out on her first night home in three weeks, but I was supposedly working late.

We were cut loose about 6 p.m., a couple hours earlier than expected, and I stopped for a bite on the way to the apartment. It was another 8 a.m. start on Sunday, but why give up a free pass to get out of the house? With Kacie and the rest of the Gang of Eight welcoming Morgan home, I may actually be able to sneak a few moments with my girlfriend.

Mom and Dad were probably already taking advantage of getting the kids out of the house for the night and I didn’t need to walk in unexpectedly. There are some things children should never know about their parents, even though we are living proof of their sexual activity.

Imagine my shock, surprise, dismay, disappointment — pick one — when my call to Morgan went straight to voicemail. The mystery deepened when I received a reply to my ensuing text advising me to avoid the area tonight. Even Arlene sent me a message basically saying I wasn’t welcome for one evening.

I should have known something was up when Jan Metzger called just minutes later to see what I was up to. It seems she had the house all to herself with Bethany at the sleepover. With no other viable options, I told her I was on my way.

Jan met me at her door looking like a vision out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog — peignoir, demibra and thong all in sheer, black lace. It was enough to make me forget my disappointment at not seeing my girlfriend, just a tick below the vision from a week ago of Arlene in her white thong.

The blonde goddess snickered at the look on my face and welcomed me in. I didn’t wait for her to make a move, pulling her in for a kiss before she even got the door closed. She broke away long enough to throw the deadbolt, then squealed and slapped at my hands when I tried to pull her back in.

“Down, boy,” she laughed. “You’ll get there soon enough.”

I’m afraid I went all caveman, picking her up in a fireman’s carry and swatting her shapely ass.

“Quiet, woman,” I barked as I headed toward the master suite while Jan shrieked at her predicament. “If you’re so determined to show the goodies, I’m damn sure going to look. And if you let me look, I’m going to want to play with them.”

I dumped the laughing blonde goddess on her California king, her face and bosom all flushed, and quickly stripped to my boxers. Her shrieks renewed when I dove face-first between her thighs and attacked. I didn’t even try to remove the thong, just pulled the gusset aside as I commenced licking, sucking, nibbling and slurping.

Jan’s shrieks soon turned into moans and I felt her hand on the back of my head. Her grip strengthened and she pulled me tighter as the first tremor raced through her. I had a finger on her G-spot as I mouthed her clitoris, bringing forth a stronger reaction as her grip and cries intensified.

I backed off a bit and started building back up, employing my full arsenal as she squirmed and writhed. Her voice rose in pitch as I added a finger in her butt to the one in her slit. The gentle bite on her clit sent her into a paroxysm as her thighs slammed against my hand and her cry filled the room.

She weakly tried to push me away as her body shook from that one. I stood up long enough to drop my boxers. I wasted no time in stuffing my dick into her steaming snatch and began stroking forcefully. She groaned deep in her throat, her eyes going wide as she was finally able to focus on me. I don’t know what she saw, but she just dropped her head to the bed as she surrendered herself to the sensations.

The blonde goddess was more like a blonde slave girl as I had my way. She wrapped me in her arms and legs and held on as I continued to thrust. With a roar, I pushed deep and let loose, unloading all my frustration with Julia, Marie, Morgan, Arlene and just about every other woman who in some way had taken advantage of me over the last two months.

I collapsed and rolled to the side, both of us heaving for breath after the violence of the encounter.

“Wow!” she panted. “Where did that come frmmph...”

I didn’t let her finish the question, latching on for a kiss as I pulled her atop me. I reached behind her to undo the bra and started sliding the straps and her peignoir off her shoulders. She just moaned as I began kissing newly exposed skin, squealing again when I found a nipple.

She sat up and shrugged out of the garments, tossing them to the floor.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” she gasped with a hint of wonder in her voice, “but I like the way you’re getting into me!”

The blonde goddess then slid down to take my limp dick into her mouth and helped cure it of that affliction. She went deep, then looked me in the eye and scrunched her nose. I flashed on a similar scene with her daughter just a couple of days ago. I’d be willing to swear the two were comparing notes. The only reason I didn’t flood her mouth then and there was I had nothing left.

Satisfied I could meet her demands, Jan stood and stripped off the come-stained thong. She then reached into her bedside drawer and pulled out a condom and tube of lubricant.

“Bethany told me about Thursday,” she said as she dropped the packet on my stomach and unscrewed the cap on the tube. “She’s not the only one who’s been practicing.”

I tore open the packet and rolled the condom down my resurgent cock as Jan reached behind her to apply a glob of jelly. She then smeared a little up and down my shaft before spooning back against me.