Lane Novak - Full-bodied babe

As she soared toward climax, Babe lifted her legs and wrapped them around Sergio's buttocks.

His lips came down on her mouth and she sucked on his tongue, crushed beneath the weight of his powerful body, his flesh burning into hers.

Then Babe began thrashing her head from side to side, riding the crest of a devastating orgasm.

"Ah-h-h! Ah-h-h!" she screamed. "Ah-h-h-h-h! "

Sergio withdrew, then came crashing down upon her like a tidal wave, exploding inside of her, filling her with his manly essence.

When Babe finally opened her eyes, she saw Henderson staring down at her. Sergio had collapsed in her arms and was unable to move. "So," said Babe, untangling herself from his listless limbs, "about the gig with The Boys"

"Oh, yes, the business at hand," Henderson smirked. " As I told you… people come to see The Boys. It doesn't matter to them or me who's the opening act. I'm not the one you've got to convince.

It's The Boys."

"Fine. When can you arrange for me to see them?"

Henderson shook his head. "I can't. When The Boys are in rehearsal, they won't see anybody. Not even me. Not even the President of the United States. I'm afraid you're on your own."

"Thanks a lot," said Babe sarcastically, pushing Sergio off of her. The chauffeur tumbled to the floor with a thud.

Henderson shrugged. "Can we drop you off anywhere?"

"Right here will be fine," Babe replied.

She was barely dressed when she got out of the car. As she was leaving, Henderson said, "Good luck."

"Thanks for your time," she grudgingly remarked.

"Oh, by the way," said Henderson. "What did you say your name was?"

Babe glared at him.

Henderson smiled. "I was only kidding."

The gate to Derek Andersen's estate was an intimidating barrier-iron bars that rose to a height of about twelve feet, the only entrance to twenty acres of property completely surrounded by brick walls, security devices and several burly bodyguards. When Babe saw the obstacle her heart sank. But her determination and imagination provided her with a means of entry.

She approached the check point and responded to the guard's stoic expression with a big grin. "Hi.

I'm Tracy Evans from Music Mania magazine. I'm here to interview The Boys."

The tall, husky guard scrutinized her from head to toe, then smirked, "Sure you are."

"No, really," Babe insisted, consulting her wristwatch. "I have an eleven o'clock appointment."

"I don't know anything about an appointment," he replied.

"Of course you don't," Babe giggled. "I'm not here to interview you."

The guard was not amused. "Very funny. Got any I.D.?"

"Oh, dear. I seem to have forgotten my purse."

"Just as I thought."

"You can cheek with my editor," Babe bluffed.

"I don't have to check with anybody. No I.D., no entry."

Unperturbed, Babe tried another approach. "Say, aren't you Derek's bodyguard?"

"Yeah," he smugly confirmed. "What of it?"

"You're some hunk of machinery," she said, admiring his biceps.

"The better to keep intruders out of here." "Hmm. Maybe I ought to skip the interview with The Boys and do a story on you. "

"Me?" he scoffed. "Who'd be interested in a story about me?"

"Any woman who knows a real man when she sees one," said Babe.

The guard grinned and nodded his head. "Maybe you've got something there."

"Looks like you've got something there,"

Babe observed, glancing at his crotch. "What's your name?"

"Jeff Kroeger. But they call me, `Bull.' "

"I'll bet they do," Babe flirtatiously muttered.

Aroused by the prospect of scoring some trim as well as a little notoriety of his own, Bull relaxed his guard. "Maybe you'd like to find out why."

"Maybe I would," Babe replied. "Why don't you let me in so that we can get better acquainted."

"Gee… I don't know," he hesitated.

Babe reached through the bars and caressed the lump in his pants. "Don't tease me, Bull. I'm so horny, I can't think straight."

"Hot damn!" he gulped and without further adieu, Bull unlocked the gate and ushered Babe inside.

"Is there any place where we can be alone?" she asked.

"Well… our best bet's one of the guest rooms in the house," said Bull.

They hurried up the gravel path leading to the mansion but instead of using the front door, where another guard was posted, Bull suggested a detour through a garden and onto a veranda behind the house. They entered through the sliding glass doors of an atrium and proceeded through a succession of unfurnished rooms until they reached a carpeted staircase that led to the bedrooms upstairs.

"Just keep it quiet, okay?" Bull whispered over his shoulder as he crept up the stairs.

Babe didn't say a word as she followed close behind. She did, however, take notice of her surroundings, memorizing the layout of the place.

"Here we are," said Bull, taking her by the hand and slipping into one of the guest rooms.

Once inside, he locked the door. "Well, how's this for privacy?"

"Perfect," Babe agreed, noticing that the bathroom adjoined the bedroom next door. "Why don't you get undressed while I freshen up?" she suggested. "I'll only be a minute."

"Sure," grinned Bull, peeling off his T-shirt.

"Don't start without me," winked Babe as she disappeared into the bathroom. As soon as she had closed the door, she stepped into the next bedroom and back out into the second floor corridor. She tip-toed from room to room, quietly opening and closing doors in search of any of The Boys. Finding no one, she went downstairs. There, she came upon a huge ballroom containing the group's musical instruments and sound equipment, but not one member of the band was present and accounted for. Obviously, this was where they rehearsed, but from the look of things not much practicing had been going on. A drumset was collecting dust and when Babe tried strumming a few chords on one of the guitars, she found two strings out of tune.

"Looking for something?" asked a male voice behind her.

Babe wheeled around and found herself faceto-face with Ace Corkran, the group's drummer.

With his long brown hair, blue eyes and boyish features, he was even cuter in person than in all the fan magazines. "Actually, I'm looking for someone, " she clarified.

"Anyone in particular?" he casually inquired.

"You'll do."

Amused, Ace circled her, assessing his discovery. "And who might you be?"

"My name is Babe McKay."

"Babe?"

"The one and only."

"Well, how do you do? I'm the one and only…"

"Ace Corkran,' Babe interjected, barely able to contain herself.

"Oh, a fan."

"A devoted one," she gushed.

Ace smiled. "Those are the best kind. Pretty, too," he observed.

"Thanks."

"Wait, don't tell me, you just happened to be in the neighborhood and decided to drop by."

"Actually, I've gone to a great deal of trouble to see you," Babe admitted.

"I'm flattered."

"Well, it's business as well as pleasure."

"Which should we conduct first?" asked Ace.

Babe smiled and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. "Oh, I always before pleasure before business."

"What a coincidence," Ace murmured, lowering his mouth to Babe's parted lips.

They kissed softly, innocently. But as the kiss lingered, passion began to transform innocence into desire and desire into lust. Ace wound his arms around Babe's waist and she ran her hands through his long brown hair. Their bodies pressed against each other and their tongues mingled.

Soon they were fondling and groping. Babe's hands were all over him and Ace, who could juggle a mean pair of drumsticks, wasn't shy or clumsy about exploring her body. He squeezed her tits through her silky blouse, lifted her skirt to palm the round cheeks of her ass and slide his lean fingers up and down the damp crotch of her panties.