Iris Licht - Video Vixens

Montana once had a regular lover-Robert, a magazine photographer. She had met him in her early days, prior to making her first video. On a sexual level, they burned up the sheets. Robert was deliciously insatiable. The problem, however, stemmed from her busy schedule at the inception of Wildwood Productions. Montana eventually found herself in increasing demand-much to Robert's chagrin. Her inability to spend quality time with him led to the demise of that relationship.

Next came Mark, a bronzed stud, who ruled her everyday thoughts for six consecutive months. Mark was such a good fuck, she could hardly wait to wrap things up for the day so she could hop in the sack with him for an all-nighter. He ran a profitable restaurant business that made him a millionaire. Their mutual lust swiftly cooled after he relocated to New York to launch an East Coast location. Both suffered from the transition of sex on a nightly basis to occasional weekends and sought new partners. Mark had no problem in finding a replacement; Montana didn't bother. She decided to invest those energies into a more worthwhile pursuit: enlarging her fortunes.

Neglecting her personal life had been judged regrettable particularly on nights such as these, when Montana felt utterly alone. She would preferred to be enveloped in a pair of masculine arms, lazing in bed, with a bottle of champagne and a hormone-provoking video playing on the TV. Those lush moments spent with men like Robert and Mark weren't forgotten; she periodically took them off the shelf and gave them a dusting.

Strangely, the only person of late who touched a nerve was Crystal. Certainly Montana wasn't about to migrate to that kind of relationship after admitting failure with a straight arrangement. Men would always raise her pulse, get her pussy moist; women, however, were like a box of chocolates she kept tucked away for a secret thrill.

Having Pete in the picture soured Montana's appetite for Crystal. She wasn't liable to indulge herself if she had to deal with him. Montana would prefer to have no one than tackle that kind of scenario.

A knock sounded at her door, reverting Montana's thoughts to the presence. She frowned. With the exception of the security guard, she hadn't expected to be bothered. "Yes?" she asked, unable to censor the irritation from her voice.

A tall, lean guy with dark hair, a mustache and the beginnings of a beard entered her office. The white tank top he wore revealed a developed chest loaded with dark curls and biceps pumped up in size. His jeans were worn at the crotch, drawing immediate attention to the heft of his cock. "Miss Wildwood?"

Montana had never seen him before. Usually she wasn't kind to strangers, but struck by his virile presence, she employed a less grating tone. "Yes, I'm Miss Wildwood. What can I do for you?"

"I'm Rusty Peters. You scheduled me for an audition this evening."

Montana searched her memory banks. She couldn't recall having jotted that item on her agenda. "Are you confident it was tonight?"

He nodded. "This note was prepared by your secretary."

Montana scanned it for authenticity. Yes, it was Paula's handwriting. She glanced up to digest those incredible hazel eyes. Rusty Peters was indisputably a hunk. The male actors she hired tended to have a direct impact on the senses-Rusty was no exception. His thick dark hair was pulled back into a small pony tail, framing rugged features. He possessed a masculine quality she didn't often encounter.

"Since you appear to have me at a disadvantage, Rusty," Montana huskily said, "why don't I pour you a drink so we can talk? I prefer a relaxed atmosphere to conduct an interview."

A grin split his tanned face. He affected a swagger that nearly mesmerized Montana. He lowered himself into a spot at the far end of her sofa and accepted her terms without questions. Montana poured him a glass of champagne, letting the neckline of her blouse dip as she handed it to him. The look they exchanged was best described as "electric." She actually felt a current flow between them.

"Tell me something of your background, Rusty," Montana began with. "What led you to Wildwood Productions?"

"Well," he said, appearing to choose his words carefully, "I'm an automotive mechanic and have always had an appetite for pornography. I attended showings of various movies on a regular basis and feel I can improve upon the action currently produced."

Montana grinned. Rusty couldn't be any older than twenty-one. How could someone of his inexperienced years make such an outrageous statement? "You honestly believe you have something worthwhile to offer my audience?"

"That's what the girls tell me," he proudly mentioned.

Montana spotted the southern twang in his voice now that he spoke more freely. Apparently she was talking with a man of absolute aplomb. "Did you just arrive in LA?"

"I've been here almost two weeks."

"Have you tried to secure any other kind of employment?"

He shook his head. "I figure I can make it big in porn. I've got what it takes." He tossed her a wink. "I've curled more toes and hit more high notes in the women I've bunked down with than you can shake a stick at."

Hmmmmm, his confidence level was right up there, she noted. "Do you have a problem performing in front of people?"

"Performing?" His brow went up.

"Maintaining an erection?"

"Hell, no," he chuckled. "I've been at parties where a whole bunch of us have switched partners. The girls like when they end up with me. Sometimes I've worked on two at once."

Montana felt his qualifications limited, but it was to Rusty's merit that he approached her in a susceptible mood. She took a prolonged sip of her champagne, letting the bubbles snap against her tongue before slurring, "Let's have a look at you. Remove your clothes."

A grin radiated from his face. Rusty couldn't have been more pleased to drop his duds. "Yes, ma'am."

Montana studied him with an expert eye as the top button of his jeans was popped, then his fly unzipped. White briefs arrested an interesting shape. While he wasn't the least hard, Montana could tell Rusty had the equipment he boasted. The flaccid shaft showed promise. After the jeans fell from his hair-rough, muscled thighs and his tank top was yanked off his heavily matted chest, she examined him more closely. Rusty was a handsome beast who, with a little refinement, would add value to some of her video cassette sleeves.

"Very nice," she complimented, slowly crossing her shapely legs. She indicated his briefs. "Now let's see the rest of you."

"With pleasure, ma'am," Rusty said, excitement filling his voice. He shoved his thumbs beneath the elastic rim, then pulled it over his narrow hips. His cock wasn't even semi-erect, but caused Montana to lick her lips. He was familiar with her absorbed look-women very likely gazed at him in that raw fashion.

Montana nurtured a strong jump of lust upon viewing him. Desire throbbed within her pussy. There was something wonderfully depraved about studying a naked man while fully dressed.

"Do I pass muster?" he asked, grinning.

"Initially," she mused. "I put all applicants through a series of tests. Looking good is merely the initial phase. Achievement is rated separately."

Her comment puzzled him. "I don't understand."

"Step over here," she said softly. "I need to test your responses."

Rusty obeyed. He stopped in front of where she sat. Montana made no motion to rise. Her eyes were fixed to his mystified expression. After letting several unspoken minutes pass, she trailed her fingertips over his flat stomach. Rusty lurched back and shivered as she skimmed through the abundance of hair that covered his flesh.

"Don't be afraid to react to what I'm doing," she remarked in a whisper. "I'm measuring every wince, every gasp."