"She's from Caracas."
"It's a wrap, guys and gals!"
Damn! I had missed my chance to appear in "Empire of Sin". Idly, I wondered what Melvin planned to do with Crapper when he came round. Softly, I tiptoed back along the terrace. There was another door near the kitchen entrance and I pushed it open a crack, to see if there was an alternative route to the courtyard and my discarded clothes. Alas, it seemed to be nothing more than a storeroom. I was just about to shut the door when my eyes adjusted to the gloom and I made out the lettering on the side of a large crate.
El Muerto
50 count
Made in China
Hmm, muerto. The very reason I was snooping naked about a palatial residence on a tropical isle. My curiosity well and truly piqued, I lifted the sackcloth that covered the top of the container and examined the contents…
*
"Don't I know you?"
Sadie Brown paused in the middle of applying soothing balm to her well-reddened buttocks. I smiled modestly as I swiftly exchanged the apron for my skirt and top. The girl obviously recognized a porno legend when she saw one. How nice. I preened slightly.
"Why, yes dear. Does Betsi Bouncee ring a bell?"
I wriggled, hoping she would not notice the suspicious swelling in my crotch. Sadie shook her head. Hmm, Betsi wasn't around all that long, just a season or two. I persisted.
"Titty Boomboom?"
The young woman frowned, perplexed.
"I've heard of Titty Little and Titty Galore but not Titty Boomboom. What is that, by the way? It's looking at me."
Damn. It looked as if my secret weapon had broken cover. I had a small power pack in my pocket and I flipped the switch.
"It's my Muerto, Sadie. Guaranteed to set you on fire. Come for a ride?"
"Not bloody likely! It's enormous!"
"Yes it is, isn't it?"
I looked down at the huge vibrating dildo between my thighs. I can't say I've ever been afflicted with penis envy but whoever came up with that gadget certainly possessed the cure.
"It's telescopic. Look."
Turning a tiny dial on the waistband control panel produced a fascinating in and out motion. One didn't even have to thrust. El Muerto thrust for you. And boy did it ever thrust. Fascinated, I turned the dial to Max and watched the rocket roll. Sadie finished massaging her buns and pulled up her panties with a satisfying snap.
"I don't do vanilla. And you're not fucking me with a Scud missile. That's final!"
"Vanilla! Vanilla. You're just chicken!"
"Vot iz dat man doingk?"
Busti Noutalova interrupted our cozy tete a tete. She towered over us, her balloon-like boobs almost blocking out the sun, like a double eclipse. I peered around them to see a rather dazed looking Crapper stagger across the courtyard, clutching protectively at his dangling gonads. It looked as if someone had confiscated his clothes. He glared balefully at me across the glittering blue expanse of swimming pool, then pointed at the whirring gadgetry that protruded from the folds of my sarong.
"Where did you find that? They're not on the market yet!"
The guy obviously had a very short fuse. His temper wasn't much better, ho ho. I stood my ground, hands on hips, legs spread for maximum effect. El Muerto wasn't just a supercharged dildo, it was also a very effective vibrator. I tried to act nonchalant but my voice rose an octave or two.
"Just lying around. Ooh, I say! It's rather good, you know!"
Crapper scowled.
"Bloody Melvin. Switch it off and give it to me. That's a potentially dangerous prototype you have there. It could explode at any moment."
Busti Noutalova shrieked and clasped her super-sized bosoms.
"Nyet! Remember Chernobyl!"
I fixed Crapper with an icy stare; El Muerto relentlessly pointed at his flaccid dick.
"You're bluffing, Crumpet. There's a whole crate of these gizmos out back. This is no prototype. Finders, keepers."
The large man looked as if he might implode with fury.
"I'm warning you…"
"Hang on, girlie! I've got you covered!"
A familiar voice called out, somewhere above and behind me. I glanced over one shoulder to spot the Colonel crouching commando style amidst the branches of a nearby tree. He appeared to be aiming some kind of weapon at Crapper. How on earth he got up there was anyone's guess but I hoped he could get down again without doing himself a mischief.
The remaining members of the cast and crew drifted back into the courtyard, holding brimming plates of pasta and salad. Dirk Dastardly smirked at the naked and paunchy figure by the pool.
"Hey mister – if you're hoping for a bit part, I'd say don't give up your day job!"
A muffled titter ran through the gathering group. Crapper turned a deep and unbecoming shade of crimson and sucked his stomach in as hard as he could. I suddenly became aware of a rather warm sensation between my thighs.
"Fire! Fire!!"
Busti Noutalova screamed at the top of her considerable set of lungs. Everyone jumped then stared at my purloined apparatus. Flames were licking at the business end of El Muerto and an acrid burning plastic smell began to fill the air. For one moment the courtyard was deathly quiet then all hell broke loose. Someone (I suspect Sadie Brown) pushed me into the water and there was a great hissing and spitting as El Muerto proved true to its name and expired. There was a rousing cry of "Take that, you bounder!" and a pellet from the Colonel's popgun hit Crapper squarely on the nose. He staggered forwards, promptly fell in the pool and the resulting tidal wave drenched the movie crew.
"Hey, let's do a wet 'n wild short! Get that camera rolling!"
In no time at all, Melvin's swimming pool was a mass of wriggling, splashing bodies. Skimpy fabric molded to big wet breasts and I found myself sandwiched between Busti Noutalova and a gorgeous East Indian girl with luscious real tits. Smiling, they divested me of the blackened remains of El Muerto, peeled back my soaking top and took a nipple each. I placed a hand on each of their busily suckling heads and gave myself up to sheer pleasure. In a shady corner of the courtyard, I spotted Melvin, a naked and squealing Baba bouncing up and down on his knee. I hoped he hadn't forgotten to take his heart medication. Suddenly, I realized that the camera was upon me. I smiled wantonly into the lens and the cameraman exclaimed.
"I know you – you're Titty Boomboom!"
"Yes! Ohhh, yesss!!"
Teasing fingers eased inside my sodden panties and found my swollen clit. Busti's incredible assets pressed against my own ample chest, threatening to suffocate me. But what a way to go.
"You were in "Nympho Vixen Sluts Do Miami"."
"Mmmm, ohh, yeahh!"
Someone had propped Crapper up on the shallow steps of the pool, where he slumped, Nero-esque with a garland of flowers upon his head. Baba had abandoned her husband and jumped into the frenzied melee with a gleeful war cry. I took the Indian girl's nipple into my mouth and sampled her juicy pulchritude. Titty Boomboom had made a comeback. The villains weren't villains at all. The real bad guy had got his just desserts and as for El Muerto… Well, a little modification here and there and I might just ask Melvin for a few shares in his company. I waved at the Colonel who replied with a smart salute. We'd think of a way to get the old man down. And Harry… Fond as I was of the insufferable clot, my days at the laundromat were well and truly done. Miss Lawrence was joining the circus. Pornywood was in my blood. I'd miss the buffoon but it was time to suck on the fuzz-free side of the lollipop. A bleached blonde head popped up from beneath the glittering waves. I planted a playful kiss on a pair of bright pink lips. Baba laughed.
"Life's too short not to have fun!"
I looked about me at the seething throng of smiling, naked forms.
"You're right, Baba. I might even get myself a boob job…"