Jean Sifton - Underground model

They both stood there, high on the hashish, watching the lewd fucking scene before them in the casual detached manner of viewing a pornographic film, chuckling mildly at the frantic bucking Rob was going through as he tried to spill his cum up into the wild female screwing her crotch down on him. Another man came up behind them and the three of them stepped closer to the writhing couple to get a closer look at the unbelievable spectacle taking place before them.

One of the men, apparently one of Jennifer's past conquests from the insinuating remarks he was muttering under his breath, lifted up her dress so they could all clearly see Rob's inflated cock ramming into hair-covered cunt. A simultaneous gasp escaped from their lips as they stood watching the swollen cuntal lips of her vagina pull and stretch from the pressure of the cruel in and out thrusts.

Jennifer leaned her body flat against the door, thoroughly excited by the naked looks of lust spread across the gaping faces of the men that surrounded her. The man closest to the right side of her grabbed her bouncing breasts and began to squeeze them through the thin material of her dress. The stimulating massage incited Jennifer's lust to new heights, and she threw her head loosely from side to side, muttering lewd words at the group.

"Thaat's it," she hissed, "Pull my tits! Fuck me… Fuck me… I'm just about to spill my load!"

No sooner had the words escaped her lips, when she suddenly bucked forward against Rob, her mouth open wide like a gasping fish.

"Ooooohhhhh… Aggghhhhh! Don't stop everrrr…!" Her words mixed and swirled out of her salivating mouth and her eyes bulged wide open shrilling out her climax while looking helplessly into the staring faces of the other men surrounding her.

Rob could feel his own hot cum shooting up into her as if the fountain inside him could not be turned off. He was glad he had an audience now because it made everything he was doing to her seem even more obscene and vile that it actually was.

When he had finished his job, his weak limbs collapsed beneath him and he fell to the floor on his knees, still groaning and muttering to himself through the haze of hashish that clouded his mind. Jennifer was caught by one of the men standing near them and carried off to her bedroom with the other two following, knowing that each of them would eventually get their turn on top of her before the night was over.

Mark pulled the soft wool blanket around Patricia's head, muffling out the lewd sounds on the other side of the door, and gently nuzzled the full length of his body against hers; the thrill from their love-making pulsed through his body even now as they both lay dry-throated in weary exhaustion. The ticking of the alarm clock by the side of the bed mixed with their deep breathing, and soon the lewd sounds outside were muted as if some giant hand had swept Jennifer and her lover away… leaving Mark and Patricia alone in their exhausted satiation.

Mark had slipped his limp, moist penis from her and its red length gleamed in wet droplets of both his own and Patricia's orgiastic fluids. He felt it brush itchingly over the sheer silk of her sexy tights, then droop a little as his body lost contact with her. Still nestled up close to her, he drew her head onto his shoulder and closed his eyes.

One thing was certain, he thought playing the tips of fingers over her curvy hips, he wasn't going to let this alluring and utterly satisfying girl out of his sight if he could help it. He had never found a sex-partner so incredibly attuned to his particular tastes. They both had reached a satisfying climax at almost the same time… and, even more important, they had a kind of intuitive understanding of what pleased the other.

He had written his last book after the inspiration she'd given him at their first meeting, and already he felt a strong emotional attachment to her… apart from his strong physical desire. She might turn out to be someone very important in his life, he thought. His eyelids began to grow heavy as he started to drift off in a light sleep… someone very important… kept running through his foggy mind, and then he was asleep.

"What kind of modeling job?"

An hour or two had passed and they were sitting up on the bed now, smoking and talking. Mark repeated the question, since Patricia hadn't replied and a small but uncomfortable pause had settled between them.

"It's… it's for pin-up photos," she said at last. "You know… nude, lingerie, swimsuits…" Patricia turned a suspicious eye on him. He seemed to have received the news of her first important job with a kind of ominous apprehension.

"Why do you ask?" she said, "Surely you don't think there's anything wrong in that sort of thing?" She put a finger under his chin and tilted his face towards her. "Or do you?"

He smiled, bent his mouth and kissed the palm of her hand.

"Of course I don't," he replied, "As long as that's all there is to it." He took Patricia's hand and stared down at it, caressing her fingers lightly.

"You say Jennifer arranged this appointment for you?" he asked casually.

Patricia nodded. "That's right. Why… do you think she's got some dark, ulterior motive?" She was teasing him again. Mark started to say something else, then changed his mind.

"I don't think she's really that much of a friend to you, Patricia, and you might find out later that Jennifer is not as loyal to you as you wish to believe right now."

"Oh, really, Mark!" Patricia stood up and started to adjust her clothing. "For God's sake let me use my own judgment about this job, it's the first chance I've had at it for months and months. I want to find out about things by myself for a change. I'm sick and tired of having people tell me what's best for me… pointing out all the pitfalls. I put up with it for 21 years from my parents and now I want to be free of it!"

Patricia's voice and words were much angrier than his mild, tentative advice called for. And she knew this, but she hated the idea of people treating her as if she were still a small child. Whatever Larry and Ellen were like, she felt confident that she could handle them… Why did Mark have to try and spoil things for her now, just when she was beginning to feel sure that she could make a go of it in modeling?

He got up from the bed and lit another cigarette, taking short, quick puffs on it, unconsciously showing his mild irritation with her stubbornness.

"It's getting late… I'd better be going," he said. He turned back to look at her but Patricia deliberately kept her eyes on the floor, determined not to give in to his wishes now.

"Let's talk more about this matter when you've cooled off," he relented. "I can understand your thinking that I'm trying to run your life for you, but there's more to this than that. I'd hate you to get involved with something you're bound to regret later on."

There was real concern in his voice now and Patricia was tempted to apologize and listen to what he had to say about it. But something inside her insisted that she continue to run things her own way.

After Mark left, she lay thinking of what he said to her, weighing the pros and cons of the matter in her mind, until her eyes grew heavy with sleep again. Her whole body felt like a sack of cement… weighted and clumsy. She knew she should attempt to get up and change into her nightie but her physical weariness overcame any willpower she had left in her body. Sunday she would think the matter over again, but whatever she finally decided, she would at least go and see for herself what her potential employers were like… Tomorrow was another day and after that Monday and her appointment with Larry and Ellen would settle the matter… once and for all…