NOTES: This is a CFNM story featuring Abbie Chatfield: Australian radio host, podcaster and former contestant on "The Bachelor" and "I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here." This story features consensual male stripping, female-of-male body worship, performative masturbation, and a little male/female sexual activity, but NO intercourse. This is a work of complete fiction. All characters are over eighteen. Though this is a belated follow-up to my previous stories "Oz Beach Boy Meets Abbie Chatfield" and "Oz Beach Boy Bossed By Indian Lady", it can certainly be read as a stand-alone story. Many, many thanks to reader Generalsushi, whose appreciation and enthusiasm for those earlier stories encouraged me to write this follow-up.
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It was a wet, chilly night in Sydney, Australia. I was gazing into the beautiful blue eyes of Abbie Chatfield, and trying desperately not to peer down into the lovely celebrity's equally spectacular cleavage.
"Hey, Matt," Abbie smiled warmly at me. "Thanks so much for coming onto the show again. It's our first one back for the new year, so we wanted to open big...no pun intended."
"Abbie...you're so naughty!" I laughed. "I did have to think about it for a while, that's for sure. That was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life...it was fun, but I've never been publicly humiliated like that before...which wasn't your fault, of course!"
"Well, we might have had something to do with it," Abbie giggled. "I hope you haven't experienced too much blowback from it."
"It's been fine," I smiled sheepishly. "Life is good."
Abbie and I were standing in one of the large waiting rooms of the media broadcast company, The Hit Network, which carries Abbie's popular radio show Hot Nights With Abbie Chatfield. It was obvious we were both mentally replaying what had happened the last time I was in the studio...
26-year-old Abbie Chatfield rose to fame on the Aussie TV version of
The Bachelor
, where the then 23-year-old charmed audiences with her very, very naughty sense of humour.
The Bachelor
made Abbie a star. With her blonde, curly hair; stunning light blue eyes; and soft, almost cherubic features, Abbie literally lit up the screen. Her wonderfully curvy figure, meanwhile, was the icing on an already very tasty cake. Almost overnight, Abbie was a delightfully sassy and very popular media sensation.
After
The Bachelor
, Abbie took out the top prize on the goofy reality TV series
I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here
, on which she spent a lot of time in a revealing red bikini, which showed off her big, pillowy breasts and wonderfully curvy hips and butt.
From there, Abbie Chatfield moved on to her own popular podcast and then a highly successful radio show on The Hit Network. On Hot Nights With Abbie Chatfield, the giggly but intelligent and sensitive host tackles a variety of talking-point and silly topics, from mental health and gender politics through to accidental public nudity and difficult pets.
Along with her male co-host Rohan Edwards, Abbie also talks about sex...a lot. I've often laughed myself to tears listening to some of the raunchy, funny, between-the-sheets subjects the pair amusingly and candidly wax lyrical on, with much equally hilarious input from their listeners.
Through a good friend in the media industry, I'd actually found myself appearing as a guest on Abbie's show the previous year. I was there to talk about, well, my huge cock. After a fun but hopefully candid and informative chat about living with an abnormally large penis, things got decidedly sexy and out of hand.
While on air, I stripped naked, and Abbie and her producer Sharna Khatri got out a tape measure and checked the length of my penis just to assure the listeners that everything we'd been speaking about was authentic, so to speak. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Meets Abbie Chatfield"]
I'm horribly and frequently prone to premature ejaculation, and after a few accidental touches from the two girls, I got an almost instantaneous erection and then actually shot my load a few seconds later right there in the studio. To add to the supreme awkwardness, a large wad of my jism even landed humiliatingly in Abbie's curly mane of blonde hair.
I was more embarrassed than I'd ever been in my entire life...and I've been embarrassed a lot. Thankfully, I'd demanded a contract which meant our interview couldn't be filmed, and also that Abbie had to state that Matt wasn't my real name.
The whole interview, therefore, was anonymous, which saved me from becoming a national joke. The audio of the interview and my apparently hilarious premature ejaculation did, however, go viral, and some of the women I'd had sex with in the past quickly guessed it was me with Abbie on the radio.
"Wow," read an email from Dominique St. Clair, a gorgeous fifty-year-old divorcee that I enjoy occasional hot, casual sex with [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Meets Schoolgirl's Mum"], "you never come so quickly with me. Should I be offended? Is it because I'm not famous? I know that was you on the radio, Matt! You were so cute talking about your big willy! You naughty boy!"
Though I was hugely embarrassed by what had happened on Abbie's radio show, it was also undeniably thrilling and exciting. I'd even enthusiastically jerked off many, many times while listening to the audio of the interview. It was another bizarre chapter in the sordid book that is my often absurd sex life.
Though not officially diagnosed, I'm a raging sex addict. I'm a 25-year-old narcissistic Aussie male exhibitionist who loves getting nude, preferably with women watching me. I spend hours training to get my body as ripped and muscular as I can, principally to attract as much female attention as possible.
I like to show off and put myself in potentially sexy situations whenever I can, particularly around Sydney's many beaches and secluded coastal bays. I also frequently stroll around at night on busy weekends looking for action wherever I can find it. I am constantly horny, and I've enjoyed a lot of kinky hook-ups in my time.
"Like I said in my email," Abbie smiled, "we'd like to talk with you this time about being an exhibitionist. Judging by the way you stripped off last time, I guessed that you like to show off. We'd love to hear what that's all about."
"You were right," I smiled. "As I replied, I am indeed an exhibitionist, and I'm happy to talk about it."
"Okay, we've written up a contract again for you," Abbie explained. "Once again, this won't be filmed or photographed, and we'll say that Matt is not your real name."
At that very moment, an attractive blonde woman who appeared to be in her late thirties walked into the waiting room holding a piece of paper and a pen. She smiled warmly and handed me what I assumed was the contract.
"Hey Matt, I'm Alicia Rumsby," the blonde woman said. "I'm the producer on Hot Nights. Have a read of the contract, sign that bad boy for us, and then we'll be good to go. This should be fun. Your last appearance was a big hit for us. The listeners loved you!"
I checked through the short contract, which was signed by Abbie, Alicia and The Hit Network's general manager J.H Lieberman. I was happy that I was appropriately protected, so I signed the contract and quickly handed it back to Alicia Rumsby.
The attractive blonde thirty-something gave me a big smile and a friendly wink, and then turned on her heel and left Abbie and I alone again. Alicia looked back at us over her shoulder and smiled knowingly.
"What happened to Sharna Khatri?" I asked Abbie curiously. "She's not working with you anymore?"
After embarrassingly blowing my load on Abbie's radio show, I'd then engaged in a very hot sexual experience with the show's beautiful producer Sharna Khatri, a bitchy, dominating Indian thirty-something who'd taken great delight in further humiliating and ridiculing me while fucking me in her office. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Bossed By Indian Lady"]
"Aaah, yes, Sharna Khatri," Abbie sighed, and then frowned. "I know you guys were intimate...Sharna didn't give me all the details, but she told me you got into it, yeah?"
"Um, yeah...we did," I replied sheepishly. "In her office...after the show."
"Yes," Abbie frowned. "That's okay, all good. Look, I'll be straight with you, Matt. Sharna was let go due to an incident of sexual harassment."
"Oh, my god," I gasped. "Really?"
"Yes," Abbie sighed. "We had a nineteen-year-old guy here on work experience. Sharna pulled his pants and underwear down in her office without his consent, and then ridiculed his...equipment."
"Oh, right," I muttered, hardly surprised, but still taken aback. "That's awful..."
"Yes, the young man was humiliated," Abbie continued. "He lodged a complaint, management investigated, and Sharna was gone two days later. Sharna had something of a history when it came to inappropriate sexual behaviour. Men's clothing was found secreted throughout her office, which was very strange. Anyway, Alicia's on the show now, and she's great."
"Okay, all good," I smiled, still slightly shocked about what had happened with the bitchy Sharna Khatri. "I'm ready to go."
"Thanks, Matt," Abbie smiled. "Look, this is also just an excuse to get you back on the show. We've had lots of listener requests, and I wanted to see you again too. Rohan's on leave, so it will just be me and you again."
"Oh, great," I said with a little too much enthusiasm. "Not that I've got anything against Rohan, of course!"
"That's cool," Abbie giggled. "It's more fun when it's just me and you anyway."
The last time I was on the show, Abbie was in a serious relationship, but I knew that she was now newly single. I sensed a lot more flirtatiousness from the sexy radio host this time, and I optimistically hoped that something might possibly happen between us. I had a big celebrity crush on Abbie, and I was happy for any sexual scraps that she might choose to throw my way.
"Okay, we've got a song and a long ad break on at the moment, but we need to get in the studio now," Abbie explained, and ushered me out of the waiting room. "It'll just be the same as last time...a casual chat about how you like to show off your body. Are you happy to just go wherever the interview takes us?"
"Yep, that sounds great," I smiled. "I'll follow your lead."