Desperation Day

Natalie slipped to the floor in a dead faint.

* * * *

"You're back with us."

Natalie's eyes fluttered open. She didn't feel completely "there" yet, but she was near enough to know that the hunky party post, Brian Rush, was holding her on the bed in the room she been told was assigned to her for the duration of the party, that he was cupping one of her breasts in his hold, and that what felt very much like a hard on was pressing at her thigh through the thin material of his trousers.

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have . . ." That was all she could think of saying, because she didn't know what she shouldn't have done. She shouldn't have reacted somehow to a murdering gangster wanting to bring her up here, fuck her, murder her, and stuff her in the trunk of his car—all planned out at the poker table by his cohorts?

"I don't think one has a choice in whether they're going to faint or not," Rush said, giving her a sympathetic smile. "I hope Betty told you that you were free to eat whatever you wanted. But maybe it wasn't hunger. I sensed all along that you weren't completely good with this. You haven't done this sort of thing before, have you?"

"No," Natalie murmured, not daring to move a muscle because she rather liked him palming her breast and being hard for her. She didn't want him to realize the intimacy of the embrace and adjust away from it.

"Never been with men before? You must really have been in desperate need for the money to agree to . . . and Jamie's a bigger rat than I thought."

"In need for it—the money—yes, but I've been with men before. Jaime certainly, although you're right on about Jamie being a rat. The more and more I see of a real gentleman, like you, the less and less I think of Jamie."

"Don't make me out too much as a gentleman," Rush said, with a low laugh, "I'll have to confess I've been feeling you up while you've been out. You're a real knock out. Been watching you all evening."

For the first time she realized he'd had a hand on her inner thigh. She sighed and moved her thigh over his. Instinctively taking the hint, he move his hand to cup her muff.

"You're going to have to tell me if you want me to stop," he said in a low, hoarse voice.

Natalie's answer was to cover his hand on her cunt with hers and holding it close.

Rush pushed a finger in between the folds, finding her clit and applying pressure to that. Natalie shuddered and groaned for him, turning her face up to his. He lowered his face to hers and they went into a kiss, both fully tuned in to the sound of his zipper as she lowered it. It was Rush's turn then to shudder as her hand invaded his open fly.

Both of them knew what they were working up to.

"Do you have any idea what made you faint?" he asked, his voice gravely, welcoming the time she was taking to fondle and stroke him inside his trousers, taking his time too in teasing her on abandoning her clit with his finger and using it to penetrate her. They both knew she wanted this, as she moved her thigh higher on his, opening the core of her more to the attentions of his hand, beginning to flow for him.

"Those gangsters at that that table. I overheard them. They were planning a murder. Right there in your living room. And from what they described, I could be their victim. Then you wanted me to go upstairs with the worst of them."

Brian Rush laughed and sat up on the bed, releasing her breast. But her thighs remained straddling his lap, and he didn't let loose of his hand hold on her muff. He had two fingers inside her and a thumb thrumming her clit. She was trembling and groaning for him. He lifted one of her ankles onto his shoulder, rubbing her calf with the stubble on his cheek, entering her deeper with his fingers, and starting an in-and-out rhythm that had her body shimmering. She could feel the hardness of him rubbing on her other thigh.

"Why the laugh," she managed, with a gasp.

"Those aren't gangsters. Those are actors and writers for a film I'm producing. They were just working out a script. Nobody's going to murder you. You're too luscious to waste that way. Somebody's going to put you to the sword, though."

"Oh."

"And speaking of movies, the main reason I was watching you all evening . . . well, other than thinking you're gorgeous and intending to pay my $3,500 to get to fuck you if you were willing . . . if you are willing, as I still very much want to do that . . . was that you'd be perfect in the ingénue role in another film I'm doing. If only you had an Equity Card."

"Of course I have an Equity Card. Who in this part of Los Angeles doesn't?" she murmured between gasps. He gasped too, as her hand had found his cock again and was pulling on his hard. "What's the movie?"

"You're not interested in the position I'm going to fuck you in?"

"Yes, of course, but what's the movie?" This, after all, was Hollywood. Surely Rush understood what priorities were.

"It's a beach movie. Jamie has an extra's part in it, but you'd be front and center and have lines and be won and fucked by an up and coming top of the B line young hunk. What do you think?"

What did Natalie think? Working in the same movie as Jaime, with her in front, with lines, and Jamie standing and looking dumb and mute in the background? Perfect. "That would be perfect," she answered with a gasp. His fingers were driving her crazy. She squeezed his cock and he moaned.

"So, what, shall we stop now and I send you home to pack?"

"Pack."

"I think that preparing you for this part will take a lot of close direction. I think it best if you move in here with me. So, shall we—?"

"You know I don't want you to stop now. Plus I need the $3,000 now, and you said I'd have to fuck at least one guy to get it. It might as well be you."

"I don't want it to be me if there's anyone else here tonight you'd prefer."

"Then it might as well be you," Natalie answered.

He laughed and let his mouth move down her body as he repositioned them, Natalie sitting on the side of the bed, thighs spread, her hands digging through the luxuriant hair on his head as he buried his face in her snatch and feasted on her.

Standing, he brought her up to one knee on the bed and her other foot on the floor. She was naked, save the waist chain and the high heels. He was fully clothed, save the hard, up-curved erection throbbing outside of his thigh. Clothed man fucking naked woman. Positioning the bulb of his cock between her wings from behind, he cupped a breast with one hand, moved the other hand around to her belly, and pressed in, pulling her body into his groin and her cunt onto his throbbing cock. The hand splayed over her belly so that his index finger reached to her clit.

Sighing and moaning for him, Natalie turned her face to his and possessed his mouth with hers as he began to pump.

Natalie wasn't feeling nearly as desperate as she had when Nude Day dawned.