Getting the Job: Carol Kirkwood Part 5: Kew Gardens
By Imorol
Disclaimer: This is a fictional story for adult entertainment purposes.
Now, to the story...
Kew Gardens in southwest London was the site for the outside broadcast for today's BBC Breakfast weather. Standing by the broadcast van in the BBC car park, producer Trevor Whitlow was waiting for Carol Kirkwood, Britain's favourite weather forecaster...and his personal plaything.
'Ah, good morning, Carol,' he said as the beautiful and busty blonde stepped into view.
Looking good
, he thought taking in the vision of the hot mature vixen.
Carol was wearing a long yellow dress decorated with numerous little green triangles. It had quickly become a favourite of the producer's: the dress clung to her huge boobs while the plunging neckline offered a wonderful amount of cleavage. It was tight to her body until it reached her hips. From there, the skirt of the dress was loose, draping tantalisingly over her round bum. All-in-all it flattered Carol's charms while giving him easy access to them.
Spotting her producer standing between two large white vans, Carol walked straight up to him. Without a word she wrapped her arms over his shoulders, drew close and pressed her lips to his. Her tongue hungrily invaded the man's mouth, seeking out his. Finding it, Carol entwined them, her tongue probing his, licking it before roving around the inside of his mouth. Drawing out his tongue, she sucked on it, a sigh sounding from her as she did.
'I take it you're horny this morning, Carol?' Trevor asked, breaking the kiss and looking into the sultry blue eyes of his star.
'Mm, yes I am,' Carol replied. One arm still around the man, she reached down between then. Fingers finding a bulge, she squeezed the growing erection. 'Seems like I'm not the only one,' she smirked before pushing her tongue back into his mouth. Pressing close, Carol pushed her big boobs against his chest, felt her cleavage well up under the pressure.
My boobs might just escape my dress!
As they kissed, Trevor's hands roamed round to grab the woman's arse. Fingers squeezing her buttocks they then moved to trace the outline of her knickers. Breaking the kiss once more, he looked at her blushing cheeks.
'Did you do as I asked?'
'Oh yes, Mr Whitlow. I'm still wearing the same knickers from yesterday. I wore them all day and all night. Only took them off for a bath. And, just as you asked, I masturbated into them. I must confess...I had a nice gooey cum in them as well. My new vibrator wand works wonders! Thank you for that gift, by the way,' Carol replied, her hand still caressing his stiff prick.
'That's a good way to start the day,' the man said, his eyes dropping to Carol's cleavage.
'Hmm, I can think of a better way.'
Without another word, Carol dropped into a squat, her knees parting wide. Moving quickly, she had her producer's cock out. Hands holding him steady at the waist, Carol opened her mouth and took him between her lips. Moaning loudly as the male flavour hit her taste buds the Scottish presenter eagerly began sucking off her producer.
Fuck, she's hot this morning
, Trevor thought, looking down at the beaming eyes of his blonde star. Looking past her sucking lips he saw her sexy cleavage, tits threatening to spill from the dress.
As she sucked more cock into her hungry mouth, head bobbing up and down the heated shaft, Carol could feel a similar heat smouldering between her legs. Ever since the producer had informed her they would be heading to Kew Gardens and his request for her dirty knickers, she had been aroused. Last night she had indeed had a gooey cum, her thick creamy girl cum soaking into the very panties she was wearing right now. Entering her squat, she had felt her pussy opening, the lips parting and a run of her steamy juices dribbling out adding to the mess in her underwear.
Wrapping the fingers of one hand around the shaft, she began stroking it, wanking the man into her greedily sucking mouth as her tongue swiped up and over the head, lips locked behind it. Despite the strong temptation, she refrained from reaching under her dress to touch herself.
But I want to
.
With a pop the woman pulled her producer from her oral grip. 'How's that for starting the day?' she asked. Opening her mouth to suck him back in, she was disappointed when Trevor stepped back.
'Carol, that's a great way to start, but I don't want to cum just yet,' he said, grinning at the sexy blonde. 'I want to check your knickers.' Opening the passenger-side door to one of the white vans, he said, 'Bend over the seat.'
Obeying the command she stood and moved to the vehicle. Resting her upper body on the seat, she bent at the waist, her bum in the air, dress hanging over it.
'Like this?' she asked coquettishly, looking back over her shoulder.
'Almost,' he answered before putting a foot between hers and gently kicking them apart, opening her legs wider. 'Better.'
Gazing down he looked at Ms Kirkwood's arse raised in the air, dress defining the beautiful round cheeks, highlighting the crevice between them. Squatting now himself, hands grasping her buttocks, Trevor pressed his face into Carol's butt crack. Inhaling deeply he took in the scent of her behind, warm air sweetened by her skin and clothing filling his nostrils. Hearing an appreciative murmur he pressed harder, trying to sniff at her hidden arsehole. A hint of her crotch underscored the scent.
A quick check reassured the man they would not be seen. It was early in the morning and they were in a quiet part of the car park. Situated between two large white vans, the pair would not be seen. Hands on the hem of the dress he raised it, revealing Carol's legs, her thighs and her sexy bum. Clinging tightly to the Scot were her knickers, a pair of dark red lacy bikini panties.
'Sexy,' Trevor mumbled, eyes tracing the outline of the panties: over Carol's hips, curving over her cheeks and down into her crotch. Licking his lips, he drank in the close-up view of the gusset, following the stitching around the panel, then focussing on that itself. Peering closer at the red panties he could clearly see the quim bulge of Carol Kirkwood, the underwear lying along the crease of her pussy lips forming an enticing camel toe.
And the smell!
'Do you like what you see, Mr Whitlow?' Carol asked in the same coquettish tone.
In reply the man drove his face into her knickers, nose pressing hard against the straining gusset. Eyes closed, the TV producer sniffed at the BBC weather forecaster, deeply inhaling her crotch.