Clint Murdock: Naked Nikki

"No, no, stop! Jesus Christ! That's enough of that," the big man told her suddenly, reaching down and pulling her hand out of his ass. "Come on, forget about that, baby, anyone can do that shit. I want to see you suck it!"

Nikki looked up and saw the blaze of lust glinting in Friedman's eyes. Now she had him just about where she wanted him.

"Suck it?" she repeated, running her tongue tantalizingly across both her full, red lips. "Like this?"

She leaned forward and swirled her tongue around and around the gooey, sticky head of Friedman's towering prick, licking until she cleared away the heavy coating of cum that had built up on it. Then she opened her mouth and slowly slid the angry purple crown inside, grazing it deliciously with her teeth as it went past. She closed her lips and used her tongue to exert a slowly increasing pressure, then she sucked furiously for about ten seconds, her head twisting back and forth, with only about two inches of Howard's rigid meat in her mouth.

Then she stopped abruptly and lifted her head, mouth still open, a long, curving strand of saliva connecting her lips with the talent agent's pulsing penis.

"Is that what you meant, Howard?" Nikki asked innocently. "Aw, Jesus, you little minx! Yes, goddamit! You know it is! Why are you being such a bitch about this?"

"Well, Howard," the girl said, sitting up and becoming much more businesslike, the only contact between them the loose grip of her left hand with which she was lazily jacking his cock, "I'll tell you. You see, I think the two of us are going to have to get a few things straight before this goes any further."

Friedman looked at her darkly and flexed his pecker against her sliding fingers.

"… That is, a few other things straight," she added, glancing down at the steel-hard staff of flesh.

Friedman did not smile. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he demanded.

"What the fuck am I talking about?" Nikki echoed. "I'll tell you what the fuck I'm talking about, Howard-what the fuck do you think I'm doing here?"

The talent agent glared at her, his gaze dropping to her pouting, puckered nipples, then returning to her face.

"What, do you think with my body maybe I can't find anybody else to hump me but some asthmatic old bastard with bourbon breath and a gut like Santa Claus?"

The turgid penis flicked back and forth again in Nikki's hand.

"That's not all I've got, Pussylips," Howard Friedman said.

Nikki looked down at his cock. The huge helmet was already completely smeared with drool.

"Yeah, I'll have to admit that," she replied, letting a note of honest admiration creep into her voice. She closed her fingers and stroked the shaft affectionately.

"But I didn't know that in advance, Howard," she continued briskly, returning to her former businesslike tone. "And besides, big, hard cocks are a dime a dozen… I know where to find plenty of them on a lot younger guys than you."

"Well, Sol Mandelbaum said you-"

"Oh, fuck Solly Mandelbaum!" Nikki spat. "In the nose! He told you I had a hot box and you owed it to yourself to take me around the block a couple of times, right?"

Howard sighed with resignation and a look of exasperated helplessness settled on his face.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to drag it out. I get it. Another fucking gold-digger… literally and figuratively."

Nikki chuckled gaily. "Oh, Howard, you've got the cutest sense of humor."

"Yeah, well, I wish I could say the same for you," he mumbled grimly. "Okay, Harry Carey Sr., what do you want?"

"Who?"

"You wouldn't get it, dear."

"Oh, yes, I do get it, goddam it!" she cried. "Treasure of the Sierra Madre, right? Harry Carey Sr., Humphrey Bogart, and somebody else. Errol Flynn? See, that's what I hate about you fucking bigshots, you think you're so goddam smart and nobody else knows a goddam thing! Especially if they've got tits and a cunt! 'Oh, she's just another dumb twat, not good for anything but screwing; no brains, no nothing!' "

"Okay, then, Supercunt, what do you want?-You know what I love about you bimbos? You're all so goddam super-you're so smart, you're so talented, you're so all-around fabulous-not a one of you is just another silly piece of ass! Oh, no-o! And yet where do you all show up? In the goddam sack, trying to extort some sort of favor from somebody with your horny little bodies! Right? Now why the hell is that?"

"Because you assholes force us to-!"

"Oh, bullshit, force you to! If you're so goddam talented, why don't you just break through on sheer, shining merit?"

"You know why, you sonofabitch! Because all you old bastards have things so closed up, and cliqued up, and screwed up in these industries that there's no way in hell anybody can break in on just talent alone! One chance in a million-and then you've got to just happen to be in the right place at the right time, having a goddam soda or something when Louis B. Mayer walks in!"

Friedman looked at her for several moments, and then a small, crooked smile chiseled its way into his glum expression. His cock was still as thick and hard as a marlin spike.

"I say again," he said finally. "What do you want, Supercunt?"

Nikki gave his cock an unnecessarily hard squeeze and Friedman winced, but he didn't say anything. So… the old bastard was tough, too, huh? Nikki liked that, in spite of herself.

"I just want something," she told him, "I'm not sure what. A part, an understudy role, or maybe some kind of a photo layout. I'm a model, too, you know."

"Su-u-ure," Friedman said. "Aren't you all?"

"Well, what have you got?" Nikki felt the turgid flesh jumping in her hand again and added, "Besides a pecker the size of a volleyball standard?"

"Oh, Christ," the agent sighed, "I don't know. I don't suppose there's any sense in asking whether you can act… "

"Yes, I happen-"

"Yeah, right, I know-Lady MacBeth, Joan of Are, Blanche DuBois-just name it, you can do 'er. Well, look, I don't hand out parts of any significance to people I haven't had a chance to watch. I do have a professional reputation, believe it or not."

"All right, then, how about a shoot?"

Friedman paused thoughtfully and Nikki suddenly bent forward and attacked the crown of his big prick with her tongue, swirling and stabbing and lapping furiously until all the sloppy cum was cleared off again. Then she sat up, licking the sticky liquid from her lips while she looked directly into his eyes.

"It's only a matter of seconds until you can be shooting off in my mouth, Howard," she told him. "And you're lying there blowing it."

Friedman chuckled. "Instead of letting you do it, huh? Okay, fair enough. I do have something that you can probably do. It's a beach shot; swimwear, accessories and all that shit, and they're gonna be doing it down in Baja or Mexico, somewhere around the Gulf of California. They want all the big rocks in the background. How does that sound?"

"That sounds pretty good," Nikki said.

"All right, then, let's get back to business," Friedman said gutturally, hoisting his hips into a steady, jacking rhythm.

"No, no, no, now-wait a minute," Nikki stopped him again, her hand remaining motionless on his pulsating pole. She giggled briefly, then told him: "Howard, it's really flattering to see that you think I'm so young. I'm really twenty-three, you know… "

"Well, what-?"

"… But you obviously think I'm so young that I just fell off a fucking Christmas tree, or something!"

"What the hell're you talking about?"

"Contracts, Howard, the contracts. Let's see all this swell-sounding Baja bullshlt in writing. I know you wouldn't try to snow a nice girl like me with a verbal agreement that you didn't have an intention in hell of keeping!"

Priedman chuckled again, ruefully, cynically. "Okay, okay, God Almighty. They're on my desk over there, in the box on the bottom. Four of five of them. Bring them all, and grab a pen, too… Unless you come so well-prepared that you've got one hidden on you somewhere."