"Oh, fuck, baby, fuck!" she screamed, rubbing her big soft tits against his face. "Fuck the shit out of me!"
His hard burning cock had set her sex-crazed body on fire as their mutual ecstasy mounted and mounted, and when she suddenly felt his hot cum pouring into her steaming fuck-hole, Paula exploded into her own screaming, lurching orgasm.
"Ooooooooooh, baby!" she screamed, frantically clinging to him as his jizz continued spurting up into her writhing belly. "I'm coming! I'm coming! Commmmiiiinnnngggg!"
Still straddling his shrinking prick, she continued writhing and shuddering until her intense orgasm began to recede.
"Jesus, baby," she whispered, lifting her dripping cunt from his limp cock and slipping it into her mouth. "That was the best fuck I've ever had."
The girl continued sucking deeply on his flaccid prick until she'd drawn out the last drop of his delicious cum.
CHAPTER SIX
The evening of the first newscast, Paula arrived early and was surprised to see Babs Conner in a rage.
"Paula!" the woman snapped at her when she walked in. "I want to see you in my office right away."
Following Babs into her office, Paula couldn't understand why the lovely redhead seemed so angry.
"Now listen to me good," hissed Babs, closing the door behind them. "I've worked hard for ten years to build up this station, and no seventeen-year-old slut is going to ruin it."
"What do you mean?" gasped the little blonde, still confused by Babs' behavior.
"I'm talking about Randy Witmore!" snapped the woman.
"What about him?"
"That's what I want to know!" shouted Babs. "What about him?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm talking about these nightly fuck-sessions in the parking lot," Babs answered.
"That's my business," Paula defended herself.
"It's all our business, you little tramp!" hissed Babs. "I've worked too hard improving this station to let a little seventeen-year-old bitch ruin it."
"Don't you talk to me like that!" Paula shouted. "I'll fuck whoever I please!"
"No you won't!" screamed Babs. "Not if you want to keep your job here."
"Who'll fire me?"
"Me!" yelled Babs in a shrill angry voice. "I'll fire you!"
"Mr. Marshal will tell you to go to hell if you try it," sneered Paula. "He likes my hot little pussy too much to let you fire me."
"Bullshit," Babs laughed in a softer voice. "He wouldn't touch your hot little pussy if he knew Randy were using it, too."
Paula just stared at the woman, wondering if she would really fire her on the night of their first broadcast. She could suddenly see all her dreams crumbling around her.
"Listen, Paula," said Babs in a cool voice. "If Wayne were to find out that you've been dropping your pants for Randy as well as him, he'd fire you both. That would ruin the whole newscast that we've been trying to put together."
When Paula didn't answer, Babs continued. "I don't want to see that happen, so I want you to stay away from Randy Witmore except when you're in front of the camera. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," answered Paula in a small voice, relieved that the woman wasn't going to fire her.
"I've already talked to Randy about it," Babs continued. "And I'm sure he'll stay away from you from now on, and I expect you to do the same. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Now go get ready for the broadcast," said Babs, turning away from the trembling girl.
Later, when the news team took their seats behind the desk for the broadcast, Paula was almost afraid to look over at Randy. The girl had never been so nervous in her life, and when the camera's red light flashed on, her knees were literally knocking together. She suddenly realized that thousands of people were staring at her at that very moment. She could hear Randy reading the news in his deep resonate voice, yet the words seemed only a distant drone to her until he announced Paula as the new weather girl.
Rising from behind her desk, the girl smiled at the camera, and then walked over to the weather charts that were on the wall behind her. Picking up the pointer stick, she began describing the weather formations. As soon as she began speaking, her nervousness suddenly disappeared.
It was near the end of her weathercast, when she was holding the pointer high on the chart, that she turned to face the camera and the strap on her gown slipped. Unknown to Paula, one of her big lush nipples was suddenly revealed to the entire television audience. The camera quickly cut to a close-up shot of her face to hide her bare tit, but the damage had already been done.
Watching the news at home, her father jumped to his feet in a wild rage. He'd been upset about her brief attire ever since the first billboards appeared, but this scene tonight was outrageous. How could he ever face his friends and business associates after his young daughter had displayed her nipple to the entire community?
Angrily grasping the phone, he dialed the station and asked for Mr. Marshal.
"Who's calling?" asked the receptionist.
"Mr. Drew Weston!" he shouted in an angry voice. "I'm Paula Weston's father!"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Weston," came the receptionist's voice after two or three minutes. "Mr. Marshal is tied up and can't take any calls this evening."
"Fine!" Drew roared into the phone. "You just tell that son-of-a-bitch that I'm on my way down to the station, and he'd better not leave until I get there!"
When the receptionist relayed the message to Wayne Marshal, who was in Babs' office watching the news on a monitor, he turned to the young woman.
"Jesus, Babs," he sighed. "Old man Weston's all uptight about that tit shot. He's coming down here."
"What can he do about it?" she asked, thinking what a lot of trouble the young teenager was giving her.
"He could make the girl quit," he replied. "After all, she is a minor."
"Maybe that would be the best thing for all of us," sighed Babs.
"Not on your life," he laughed. "After that shot tonight, the whole town will be watching our news tomorrow."
"How are you going to handle it?" she asked.
"I'm not," grinned Wayne. "You are."
"What?"
"I want you to try and calm him down," he explained. "Then I'll talk to him tomorrow when he's in a more reasonable mood."
"What will I say to him?"
"That's up to you," smiled Wayne as he started for the door. "I'm getting the hell out of this station."
Babs was quite surprised at Drew Weston's handsome appearance when the receptionist escorted him to the woman's office a few minutes later.
"Good evening, Mr. Weston," smiled Babs. "Won't you sit down please?"
"I want to see Marshal," he half-shouted as the receptionist closed the door behind them.
"I'm sorry," smiled the lovely redhead. "He's been called away on urgent business, but I'm sure I can help you."
"It's about my daughter, Paula," he answered, slumping into the chair in front of Babs' desk. "She's finished as your weather girl. I'm forbidding her to work another night."
"Why?"
"Why!" he roared. "How can you ask, why, after that disgusting scene tonight?"
"Please, Mr. Weston," she smiled sweetly. "That was an accident and I'll assure you it won't happen again."
"I know it won't!" he roared. "Because Paula won't be here any more!"
"Please, Mr. Weston," she smiled at him. "Let's just talk about it calmly."
"What's there to talk about?" he asked in a quieter voice, suddenly aware of the redhead's dazzling beauty.
"Accidents do happen," she continued, "and I'm sure it won't happen again."
"It wouldn't have happened tonight if she weren't wearing so little clothes," he mumbled.
"But she has such a beautiful body," smiled Babs. "It's a shame for her to hide it."