A Whole Lotta Love

by Sahara Kelly

  Seven more women sighed.

  He let his hand drift to her hair, pulling at the pins and freeing it. “Are you happy like this? Laced into the wrong clothes, doing the wrong job, being the wrong person?” His hand fell to his side once more. “Are you happy without me?”

  The tears overflowed from the blue eyes and trickled down over Lissa’s cheeks. She shook her head. “No.” It was a sound of pure pain, and Steve did the only thing he could do under the circumstances.

  He took her in his arms and kissed her. He kissed her with every ounce of passion, love, frustration and heat that he possessed. And when she moaned and kissed him back, his heart damn near stopped.

  He didn’t hear the clatter of chairs being tipped over, or the sighs and cheers of the other office workers. He didn’t hear the buzzing of phones that were going unanswered while people stood up, stepped away from their desks and watched the big romance scene being played out just feet in front of them.

  He didn’t even hear the mighty crash of the tray full of coffee cups as it fell from a woman’s hands onto the floor, shattering at her feet as she clapped and cheered in the middle of the debris.

  He did hear Lissa’s heart racing. He heard her breath, and the sound of her hair as it flowed over his hand.

  Her lips were soft, parting readily to welcome his hungry tongue. Steve damn near devoured her on the spot, desperate to taste her once more, to know that she was really in his embrace, breasts squashed against his shirt, writhing as he plundered her mouth.

  His arms tightened and he lifted her clean off her feet, tearing his lips from hers. “Well, Lissa?”

  She was still crying, but she was laughing, too. “Put me down, you bastard. Yes, I’ve missed you beyond words. Missed your smile. Missed your teasing.” She leaned to his ear. “And missed a very important part of you.”

  He grinned. “It missed you, too. Been moping around for weeks. Couldn’t get interested in anything, even the cat.”

  “You don’t have a cat.”

  He squeezed her. “I do now. And an apartment, and an interview for a new job close by.”

  She laughed again then looked around, realizing they were the focus of the entire room. “Steve, put me down.” She wriggled.

  “Uh-uh.”

  “Steve…”

  He shifted her weight, but kept her feet off the floor. “I’m not risking it. You’ll run away again and I’m gonna have to spend more miserable hours digging around trying to trace you.” He cupped her ass as he held her. “I have better things in mind for our future.”

  “I…” She opened her mouth to argue, but he stopped her with another savage kiss.

  Finally, she pulled back. “Okay.”

  Steve wondered if his face would split from the width of his smile. He walked the length of the room, past blurred faces, some laughing, a couple wiping their eyes and most everybody applauding enthusiastically.

  One older woman was unashamedly sobbing. “It’s just like my favorite movie.” She blew her nose loudly.

  Steve just kept smiling and heading for the exit. At the end, Susan stood, grinning from ear to ear and holding open the heavy glass door. “You found her, then.”

  He grinned back. “Yep.” He stopped and turned. “And in case there’s any question…” He raised his voice. “Ms. Henderson just called in sick.”

  The room erupted into chaos, and the noise of cheering, whistling and thunderous applause followed Steve as he carried Lissa out of Dickens and Barrow, Statisticians, away from the constraints of the “normal” world, and into the elevator.

  “So are you really a gynecologist?” Lissa asked.

  “Just practicing. I’m actually a newspaper writer.”

  He set Lissa on her feet in front of him. “Well, where do we go from here? Up or down?”

  More faces stared in at them from the foyer as the doors began to close. Lissa giggled, that sexy giggle that made his balls ache. She dropped to her knees, lowering his zipper. “We’re going down.”

  The End

  Love under the Lights

  S.L. Carpenter

  Sahara Kelly

  Content © S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly, 2016

  Cover © S.L. Carpenter for P and N Graphics, LLC, 2016

  This work was previously published elsewhere as ‘Coming Attractions’, but has been re-edited and updated for this edition. It features a storyline set in the adult film industry, so please be aware that the language is often blunt, raw and accurately reflective of that environment. We apologize if you find this attention to detail unwelcome, but to do less would be avoiding the realities and particular dialogue that necessarily arises on an adult movie set.

  Dedication

  For all the wonderful friends we met at a convention in Houston so long ago—where the idea for this story originally took shape—thank you. And also to all the readers we haven’t met yet, the ones who take time to drop us an email now and again, chat with us and generally let us know that you like our crazy tales. Thank you as well. Without you, we’d find ourselves with a lot of ideas in our brains and nothing much to do with ‘em, except scare our families.

  We appreciate you all.

  Chapter One

  Holly could barely breathe while she sucked down the length of Rod’s long thick cock. Her mouth stretched around its girth and her lips coated it red with layers of gloss.

  One hand massaged the swollen lips of her pussy as she continued to devour him. She pulled back her long strands of bleached blonde hair so she could see his eyes when she looked up.

  She kept stroking along the shimmering folds of skin between her legs and let her long acrylic fingernails pull at the opening as if teasing herself as she deep throated this mammoth length. Her throat tickled and she almost gagged as the swollen head pressed against the back of her throat.

  Pulling back, she let it spring free and tongued the reddening flesh until it glistened with her saliva. “We gonna fuck now, baby? You wanna fuck my tight little bald pussy?”

  Rod nodded but didn’t speak. They both knew their parts. He was the resident stud and she was the wanton slut needing a proper fucking.

  Holly stood and slithered against him, wrapping her arms around Rod’s muscular body. His arms were decorated with tribal tattoos and she ran her hands over them before clutching him to her breasts. The bulging muscles shimmered with his sweat. Abruptly he pushed Holly to the couch and grabbed her legs. His large hands caressed up and down her thighs to her feet and he nibbled the white high-heeled sandals on either side.

  She felt like a wishbone as he spread her legs apart and stared at her pussy. She was inviting him to explore. Urging him to dive deep within her until the only thing he could breathe was her scent into his lungs. He let her right leg rest on his shoulder and grabbed the swollen head of his cock, pushing it between the lips of her wet sex. She shivered as he spread her pussy lips wide and leaned against her legs, his cock disappearing into her.

  She threw her head back with a guttural moan of pleasure as he finally entered, sating her deepest desires. Holly lifted her head and watched as the folds of flesh wrapped around his cock. With each stroke the skin was pulled and stretched as he fucked her. She gritted her teeth and watched Rod’s reactions to the sex.

  With a growl he began to ram against her as he held her ankles far apart to maximize his thrusts. Sweat gleamed across his forehead and wide muscular chest.

  “Fuck baby, you have a great pussy. You…mmm, damn you’re a great fuck.” His words were harsh.

  Holly didn’t care. Her pussy was being satisfied by his mammoth cock and her panting sped up by the second.

  “Fuck that pussy. You like fucking my wet slit, baby. Fuck me with your big, thick cock.” The dirty talk to her lover turned her on and the rough words added to his pounding momentum.

  He released her legs and stepped back. “Roll over” he commanded.

  Holly immediately stood up and stepped over to the small dining room tab
le next to the couch, bending over the glass top. It was cold and she couldn’t help jerking when her large breasts pressed against it. From beneath the table she knew her nipples would be clearly visible, spreading and crushed against the clear glass. She laid her face and torso against it, turning her head to one side so her breath wouldn’t fog the glass. She lifted one leg up to the small chair, giving her lover full access to her pussy.

  “Fuck bitch, you sure have a nice ass. I’d like to fuck that ass good.” Rod stroked his cock as he stared at Holly’s round ass.

  “Nooo, I want you to fuck my pussy, baby. You’re so big you’re gonna make me come forever. Come on, fuck my pussy.”

  “Mmm, mmm.” Rod stepped behind Holly with his swollen cock in his hand. “What a waste. An ass like that needs a good fucking every now and then.”

  Holly closed her eyes and waited for her man to enter her again.

  “What the fuck? Hey…” Holly squirmed away as Rod tried to push his cock between her buttocks into her anus.

  With a quick turn and a swift, hard stomp Holly stabbed the end of her sharp heel through Rod’s bare foot.

  He yelled loudly, his voice throaty and furious. “You fucking bitch. My foot, fuck, goddamn it…”

  Before he could get the rest of his words out of his mouth, Holly swung her hand between his legs and grabbed a handful of his testicles. Her two-inch nails dug in deeply and she had Rod’s complete attention as he froze in her grasp.

  She hissed at him. “I told you, motherfucker. I don’t do anal. You’ve been trying to fuck me in the ass this whole movie and I’m fucking tired of it. My ass is for my husband.” Her hand started to shake as she squeezed harder on his balls. “And only him. You touch my ass one more time I’ll have him come over here and really fuck you up. He’s six foot four inches of black muscle and a whole lotta mean to go with it. Don’t fuck with me, you worthless prick.”

  Rod’s eyes teared and he whimpered from the pain Holly inflicted.

  With a ripping yank of her hand, she let go and Rod crumbled to the ground grabbing his balls in agony. Holly stood over him and smirked before glancing at the man sitting in the canvas chair marked “Director”. “I’ll be in my room, Henry. Come get me when you find a real man to re-shoot these scenes.”

  Tossing her nose in the air, she stalked off the set, heedless of her naked ass as it swayed in front of the film crew.

  “Now there’s something you don’t see every day.” There was amusement in the voice of the tall good-looking man as he clicked off the camera. He gazed at Rod crying on the floor, holding his balls as blood soaked his hand.

  “Hey Paul?” Another man walked up with an assortment of electrical cords and almost gagged as he saw what Paul was looking at. “Holy fucking Christ! What happened?”

  “Rod tried to backdoor Holly.”

  “You mean Big Dick Black’s Holly?”

  “Yep.” Paul Whittaker shook his head in disbelief.

  “Sheesh. Bad idea. Looks like she made Swiss cheese out of his nut sac.”

  “First she stuck his foot with her heel. Then she grabbed his sac and turned it into a Slinky.”

  “I don’t feel too good. This shit gives me the heebie jeebies.”

  “He might need stitches, Will.”

  “On his foot?”

  “No, on his foot-long. Hopefully he’ll still be able to use it. He may need to change his name to Stubby Numbnuts or something.”

  Both men were silent for a moment as they contemplated that terrible idea. In unison they slowly touched their own jewels and winced. The thought was universal.

  “So Paul, where’s your next job?” Will asked the question idly, his gaze still on Rod as he staggered from the set.

  “I’m heading over to Four Coin to shoot for Bud Yarborough. The original cameraman decided he wanted to be in a porno movie instead of filming it.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Actually it really did suck because the guy jumped the male star and sucked him off between takes. He got himself fired and—you remember the Three Amigo Brothers?”

  “Yeah, those Mexican gay porn stars.”

  “Well they all took turns with the guy after he got drunk on tequila. This was after the porn star dumped the guy after he got a few blowjobs. He said some really rude, off color things about the Amigos’ mother’s cooking at their family restaurant. He was pretty messed up. It was horrible what they did with all that guacamole in his ass. It all came out looking like refried beans.”

  “Um, Paul, can we change the subject? I’m going out with Lisa for dinner and we’re having Mexican food.” Will swallowed. Carefully.

  Paul grinned.

  ~~~~~~

  “Wanna go get a drink, honey?”

  The oily voice oozed from a few inches behind Toni Sinclair’s ear and she winced.

  “C’mon. It’s closing time. You can skip out now. Lemme show you a good time, baby.” Two warm hands cupped her buttocks.

  Gritting her teeth, Toni spun around. “Get your hands off me, you asshole.” She hissed them at the loathsome and detestable jerk pawing her backside yet again. It was like the closing of the store doors released the animal in him. Every goddamn night at nine o’clock pm precisely.

  If he hadn’t been the owner of the frickin’ place she’d have sued his ass off long ago. But she needed the job. Plus she couldn’t afford that kind of legal representation.

  And, given that she needed the job, she’d just made a really stupid mistake.

  He was glaring at her, a furious little tic in one eyelid. “How dare you talk to me like that? You’re nothing but a fucking clerk here, Sinclair, and don’t forget it. You should consider yourself honored that I even talk to someone like you, let alone offer to take you for a drink.” His lip curled into a leer and he stepped nearer, blasting her with garlic pizza breath. “You want to keep this job, you’d better be a helluva lot nicer to me. You get it?”

  In case she didn’t “get it”, he grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her hand to his crotch, thrusting it hard against whatever lurked behind his fly. It didn’t feel like anything she wanted to play with, that was for sure.

  “A lot nicer.” He licked his lips as he stared at her shirt.

  Toni felt naked. She always did when he stared at her breasts like that. As if he could see through the white cotton and the lace of her bra and was checking out her nipples. She gulped and tried to yank her hand away, mad enough to spit out some of those bullet-like metallic lipsticks she’d been trying to sell all day.

  “Mister Jansen. Let go my hand before I scream this lousy place down and call the cops.”

  The tic over his eye got more fluttery as her words sank in to whatever bit of brain lurked between his ears.

  “You aren’t God’s gift to women, no matter what your mother told you. And if you think to impress me with that—” she nodded at his pants, “then think again. I’m not into limp noodles.”

  On a roll, Toni didn’t pause for a minute to consider the wisdom of her words. She’d held them in for far too long to stop now.

  “You’re married, you shithead, you’re fat and you stink. Your breath is worse than rotten garbage, you should clean your teeth more than once a month, and God help your wife if you actually sleep with her. I’ll bet twenty bucks she knows exactly how many tiles are on your bedroom ceiling.” She took a breath and finally wrenched her hand from his, stalking away from the counter.

  Toni headed for the doors and fumbled with them, clicking the lock open so she could get the hell out of there. “Don’t bother to fire me. I fucking quit, okay? I’d tell you to take your beauty products and shove ‘em up your ass, but you’d probably like it. Shit, sounds like the sort of thing you’d do anyway.” She snorted. “I’m so done with you and this whole place. I hope it rots. Like you. I hope you rot too.”

  She paused for a moment, glancing back at the red-faced man with his mouth hanging open. And several other faces, staring wide-eyed and dri
nking in her every word.

  “And don’t think everybody in this entire rat hole doesn’t know Marcy’s giving you a daily blow job down in Receiving. I guess her job depends on it, huh?”

  Toni walked out the door and into the night.

  Way to go, girl. Hell of an exit line. Let’s see him deal with that in the morning.

  Shit.

  I am soooo fucked.

  Her feet led her automatically down the sidewalk toward home, the path she took twice each day since her car had died on her. It had been running on borrowed time anyway.

  She slowed her pace as she neared O’Banyon’s, the little bar snuggled between a beauty spa and a coffee shop, both now closed. The bar was open, of course, lights and muffled music spilling out as people entered and left.

  Toni did some quick mental math. She had maybe twenty-five dollars on her. There was a little cash tucked away beneath the cactus on her kitchen windowsill. Yeah, she could swing a beer and make it through—barely—until her last check from the store arrived. If it ever did. After that…she was toast.

  God, she needed that beer tonight.

  Pushing inside, she nodded as she heard herself welcomed by a few of the regulars she’d met over the last year.

  “Hey gorgeous.”

  “Toni, baby. Come make me a happy man.”

  “Hi Toni, love that lipstick sample you gave me, girl.”

  Grinning and making the traditional motion with her hand, Toni let them all know she was heading to the bar for a drink. “Hey Mack.”

  “Evenin’ Toni. What’ll it be tonight?”

  “Just a draft, honey.”

  Mack the bartender worked his magic with levers and glasses and before she’d had a chance to settle comfortably on the bar stool a tall slick of amber liquid frothed in front of her in a glass bearing a four-leaf clover etching.

  Appreciatively, Toni took a long drink. “God, I so needed that. Thanks Mack.” She rummaged in her purse for some bills.