"Hello. Is this Scott Forsmo?"
"That's right." He tried to ignore his rigid, jerking phallus.
"The Scott Forsmo who hosts Night Line on KSZX?"
"The same."
"Well, Scott, this is Hank Snodway, manager of KRAY in Cincinnati. Have you heard of our station?"
"I'll say I've heard of it. You're heard by more people than almost any station in the Midwest."
"More than any station," Snodway corrected. "Mr. Forsmo, have you ever thought of moving to Cincinnati?"
"No, I can't say as I have," Scott answered, his heart pounding.
"Well, think about it. We'd like to have you with us at KRAY."
"Are you offering me a job?" Scott asked bluntly.
"That's about the size of it. We like the things you're doing there in Indianapolis, and we would just as soon you were doing them for us."
"But I don't understand. How do you even know about me or my show?"
Snodway laughed heartily. "We keep our ear to the ground and to the radio speakers of the nation. Think over what we've talked about and get back to me later. Okay?"
"Yeah, sure, Mr. Snodway. Thanks for calling." Scott hung up the telephone, half dazed. Things moved fast in this business, there was no doubt about it. A few months ago he was a disc jockey for a hick station in a hick town, and now he was getting offers from the best stations around.
"What's taking so long?" Monica called from the bedroom. Scott knew she would be waiting for him, her legs splayed wide, her pubic mound rising invitingly for his use.
"I'm on my way," he said, and headed for the bedroom.
"Hmmmmm, that feels soooooo good!" Monica whispered. She splayed her legs further apart, pressing her knee against his buttocks. She reached around in front of him to caress his long, thick penis. It throbbed insistently beneath her gentle, admiring touch and swelled to an even larger size. Her fingers encircled his huge, turgid rod-like erection, and she stroked it slowly, working his fleshy skin back and forth in her palm, feeling the pulsing of his heart as more and more of his fresh, hot blood pumped into his massive organ.
Monica's legs parted a little more, and he could see the beads of moisture that rimmed her tender pink pussy lips. The tempting folds of her cunt flowered open in eager openness.
"Holy shit, are you a cock hungry piece," he muttered as his fingers brushed the base of her vagina. "You're just aching for it, aren't you?"
"Oh, yeah, yeah! Aching for it, Baby. I want that long hard hunk of prick right between my legs!" She squirmed about on the bed salaciously.
"Mmmmmmmmm, Scotty, Baby, you're so big and so hard! Oh, God, stick it in all the way. Stick it up my cunt!" she gasped, hissing with the frenzy of raw passion. She had to quench the ardent fires of her consuming lust, and there was only one thing that could do it, the gushing bliss of his manly semen.
Scott squeezed the soft fleshiness of her large, velvety breasts, rubbing his fingertips over the hard peaks of her brown nipples until he had her moaning aloud with pleasure. She opened her thighs even wider now, her loins wiggling upward until his prick was driven half way into her body.
"Ohhhhh hhhhh, Christ, come into me. Fuck me all the way to the hilt of your big, hard cock. Fuck me or I'm gonna die!" she gasped, her voice pitched high in fervent arousal. Her lips quivered as she spoke, and she was finding it hard to stay conscious. She was near climax, and he had only begun to enter her. She grabbed the shaft of his cock and worked it into her body with a squeal of eager passion. She pushed it between the moist, pink folds of her ravenous pussy, pushing the shaft into her, through the blonde fleece of her lush pubic curls and into the hot, clasping grasp of her burning cunt.
"Aaaaa aaaa aaaa uuuu uuuu gggg gggh! You're inside me. I can feel you in my pussy. God, God, it's so big, feels so big and good. Fuck me, Baby. Fuck meeeeeeee hard!" She tossed her blonde head from side to side and sobbed with raw passion.
With every thrust of Scott's long, stiff prick, Monica gurgled and grunted like an animal. Her buttocks were upturned beneath the weight of him, and the after shocks of his deep stroking made her flesh quiver with delight.
Scott's breathing quickened now, coming deeply, hurriedly. He pushed down hard with all his brutish strength, and the blonde met his thrusts with her own brand of vigor, the passion of a female in heat. She grunted and moaned, tossing he head about, her mouth gaping open, spittle drooling from its corners. Her eyes rolled up in her head. She was crazy with lust. Cock, cock, cock was all she knew and could imagine. She was in heaven.
His cock was pumping in, out of her distended pussy lips. In, out, in again harder than before. The constant sawing set up a wildly hot friction that unhinged her completely.
"Commmmming! I'm, yes, I'm commmmmmming now!" she gasped, her voice loud and harsh with raw, unbridled passion. She shook with convulsions, gasping and sputtering, grabbing for air as the waves of orgasm swept over her totally aroused body.
The trembling, milking sensation of her cuntal walls on his aching cock threw Scott over the brink. "Yeeeeeeeah! Me tooo!" he moaned, tossing his head about and spraying hot drops of sweat over her face. The cum shot from him with one long gusher of whiteness, spattering far inside her and bringing on another series of climactic rushes, driving her even further from the world of immediate reality.
"Oh, Scotty, oh, Baby, Baby, you're so great," she babbled.
"Yeah, Honey. So are you," he answered, burying his face in the dark hollow of her neck.
CHAPTER TEN
"Welcome, welcome! Come in and join the party!" Hal Ransberg was in a more jovial, more animated mood than Scott had ever seen him before. He slapped the young disc jockey on the back, then helped him off with his overcoat, accepting the carefully wrapped bottle of wine Scott had brought as a gift with great ceremony.
"Let me introduce you around," Ransberg shouted. He led Scott into the thick of the crowd and began presenting him, the names rolling off his tongue so quickly that Scott caught none of them. He was pleased to find that a number of the guests knew all about his radio show, and that most of them claimed to like it.
Ransberg pushed him toward the bar. "Have anything you like, Son. Only the best for my favorite boy."
The black bartender looked at Scott blankly, a glass already in his hand.
"Scotch on the rocks," Scott mumbled, looking around for someone, anyone he knew. He took the drink and drifted over toward the fireplace. He should have brought a date, he thought ruefully. If he had brought Rona he would at least have someone to talk to. He had considered it, but since she had told him that she and Ransberg were intimate, he thought better of it. Nothing could fuck up a relationship with a boss quicker than having him find out you were screwing his mistress. As it was, he was afraid word would get back to Ransberg that he and Rona had been together. He would almost rather have Monica's husband find out about the two of them than have that happen. It was better to have the whole Indianapolis police force on his ass than to lose his job at the station, especially since he was now so well established. His show had continued its rise in popularity. By now he had appeared on all the local television talk shows and had two more calls from Cincinnati.
"Hello there," said a voice close beside him.
"I've been just dying to meet you," the woman said, extending a beautifully manicured hand.
Scott took it, resisting an impulse to bend and kiss it. He had the most uncanny feeling he knew this woman. But that was impossible. If he had ever seen her before he would certainly remember.
"I listen to your show all the time," she said, her voice low and breathy. "Hal gets so angry with me sometimes because I stay up almost all night just to hear your program."