Shannon Stewart

When I got the letter I was so certain it was a joke that I threw it way immediately. I didn't know who could have done it or who among my friends even knew that I had a thing for Shannon Stewart. OK, I joined a group on the internet and even subscribed to her page for a month. Part of me was a little scared that maybe somebody had hacked my ID and now had personal info about me. But nothing bad happened to my credit card and I soon forgot the whole thing.

That's why the phone call a couple of weeks later was kind of spooky. It was pretty late at night and the voice on the other end, granted a very sexy female voice, asked, "Why didn't you answer my letter?"

"What letter?"

"This is Shannon Stewart. I wrote to you about being a guest at my photo shoot."

"Oh, that letter. Look I don't know if this is a joke or some kind of scam but..."

"No, listen. You've got to come. We spent a lot of time checking you out. I mean we didn't want a pervert or a loony. You got picked, that's all. Can you come?"

I sat down, still sceptical, but a little amused by the efforts the pranksters were making. "Come where and when?"

She rattled off some dates and told me how cool it would be to visit Los Angeles. Oddly enough, the dates actually worked for me and I said so. But I was not about to buy a ticket or book a hotel; I knew about those scams too.

But she was ready. "OK, if you're coming we'll FedEx a plane ticket and we'll book a hotel. It'll be the same place we shoot. I'm sorry we can't go first class but I'll make sure you have a good time while you're here." She even giggled a little bit.

Yeah, right I thought and after a few more pleasantries about how glad she was that I was coming and me being glad to meet her we hung up. I sat startled for a moment, thinking about the great lengths some people go to for a joke or a con. But damn that voice was sexy.

Well, the joke was on me. A few days later I was signing for a package with Federal Express. Inside were a roundtrip ticket, an itinerary, and a handwritten note from "Shannon." She said again that she was sorry the flight wasn't first class but she was so happy I was going to be there for the shoot.

I was even more convinced that it was a scam now. But I called the airline and found that the ticket was completely paid for. Same deal at the hotel. I was starting to get paranoid. Maybe it was terrorists planning to frame me? Damn, what the hell was going on?

Later that night I got the idea of looking at some samples of Shannon's autograph that I knew I'd find on eBay and the letter did match as far as I could tell. I sat on my couch to think things over. For some reason I popped in a playmate video and was watching Shannon as the phone rang.

I have to say it was a freaky thing to be watching her beautiful naked body on my TV and hearing that sexy voice at the same time. She actually said, "What are you up to?"

I knew the question was rhetorical but couldn't help blurting out, "I'm watching you on video."

It was the lusty yet embarrassed laugh that convinced me. I was really talking to the gorgeous Shannon Stewart, my all time favorite playmate. I crossed my legs in embarrassment because of a sudden erection; I lost track of the fact that she was thousands of miles away.

She made some more small talk and I tried to keep up my end. She said she was calling to make sure I got the tickets, when I confirmed that I had them and wouldn't miss this trip for anything she laughed. She seemed genuinely happy that I would be there for her. That's how she put it too, "I really need you to be there for me."

OK, I thought as I hung up the phone, I'm going to LA. On my TV the video version of Shannon was looking longingly at me as she pinched her nipples. I set a countdown to the flight on my computer.

Everything above seems like a geeky fantasy I'm sure but it's all true. I know nobody will believe me but I'm sure it will be even harder to believe that the flight was overbooked and I wound up getting bumped to another flight, and yes, I sat in first class.

I've been to Los Angeles a few times and I'm always surprised by how much I like that city. The hotel was nothing special, just your typical Marriott clone. When I got to the desk I was pretty tired and went right to my room. The message light was blinking.

There was that voice, "Hi, it's Shannon. We heard that you were going to be late. Call me when you get in."

I immediately dialed the room number she gave me. I was crestfallen when a man answered.

"I'm Frank. Shannon's in the shower but come on over."

"Nah, man. I think I'm gonna crash." No way did I want to sit around with Shannon and her boyfriend.

"No, you have to get over here. Look the rooms are all connected. Just open the door next to your closet."

Sure enough I opened the door to what looked like a makeshift photo studio. There was video equipment including a monitor, and a bunch of different cameras and light stands. Spread out on a table was a bunch of Polaroid shots and images of Shannon were playing on the video monitor.

Frank shook my hand. He was big, about 6'6" and had long stringy blonde hair. He was dressed completely in black: boots, jeans, and tee shirt. Instead of a belt he had a chain. I guessed I was meeting my first Hell's Angel. I made a note to be very polite and not even glance at Shannon since he obviously would stomp anybody with designs on his girl.

He was very friendly though, "You want room service? Or there's stuff in the frig there. Help yourself. We were just shooting tests for tomorrow. What do you think?" He gestured at the photos on the table.

I have to confess that I have spent many an hour studying the merits of various photographs of Shannon and a few other playmates, but until that moment no one had ever asked my expert opinion. I gave those Polaroids my full attention. Most were headshots and Shannon seemed to be experimenting with different ways to use her hair. In all the shots she had on a tight black tee shirt and jeans, must be the bikers' uniform. In just one shot she had a silly grin and the shirt pulled up to flash one of those incredibly kissable breasts.

All I could do though was stare into those hypnotic eyes. Were they blue, were they grey? Were they Asian? Even in the Polaroids they seemed to glow with an inner light and offered erotic pleasures merely in the opportunity to look deeply within their charms.

I must have really been standing there in a trance because I was startled out of my reverie by a feminine voice, "So what do you think?"

In my shock I dropped the photos I was holding and stumbled to pick them up. As I bent to the floor I looked and saw those fabulous, long legs. I looked up and there was that million dollar smile. All she was wearing was the while terrycloth robe from the hotel.

She pulled the robe tightly around her and when I stood she gave me a gentle peck on my cheek. "You finally made it! Did Frank get you some food? Frank, order something for him." Now she moved around the room in a flurry, gathering wine glasses and a bottle from a case they had obviously brought with them. "Did you show him the video?" And kept prattling on that way.

Frank just smiled and shrugged. When he could finally get a word in he asked me what I wanted and I said to get whatever everybody else wanted. That turned out to be a lot of burgers and fries.

Shannon finally sat on the couch and handed the bottle over for Frank to open. She gestured for me to sit next to her.

"Did Frank tell you about the morning? We want to shoot both video and stills at once. The crew will get here ...When Frank?"

"Eight"

"About eight. But you and I can go to breakfast since they have to set up."

"No Shannon," Frank said with mild exasperation, "You need to be here for lighting tests."

Shannon ignored him and poured the wine. As she passed me my glass a small drop spilled onto her knee. It looked like a ruby glistening on her skin. But she glanced down and jumped up. "Ohmigod! I forgot I'm not dressed. I'm so sorry." She got up and ran into the other room.

Frank just shook his head again, "Get used to it man. Hey, I gotta split. When the food gets here sign for it as Shannon Stewart Productions. And leave a good tip." He got up and gulped down his wine. Shaking my hand he said, "Glad you're here. It'll make everybody's life easier tomorrow."

"Frank, why am I here?"

"Didn't Shannon tell you in the letter?"

I had to explain that I had thrown the letter out thinking it was a joke.

"Well it's no joke man, but I better let Shannon explain."

Then he was gone. I left was alone. And in a few minutes I was going to be alone with a woman I've been dreaming about for a long time. I sat back on the couch and took a sip of wine to calm myself.

Shannon came out again and there should have been a fanfare. She had on the tightest white dress I'd ever seen. Every sensuous curve was exposed. The fabric was so light that I could have read the label on the white thong underneath if I was close enough. It was a simple low cut spaghetti strap number but it looked like it was painted on and covered her body more in theory than practice. She wore her hair up so every inch of her soft shoulders, long lovely neck, and ample bosom was exposed.

She gave a little spin to show off and grinned. "I hope you don't mind but there's a club here in the hotel and I'm hoping you'll take me? Do you have some clothes? Never mind, you look fine." She began to go on and on about dancing. The knock for room service interrupted her. "Where's Frank? Oh, that's right. If he doesn't get home early his boyfriend gets jealous."

Boyfriend?!! I signed for the food and decided the best course was to just let her keep talking. And talk she did. It was a joy to watch that yummy mouth gobble down food and take sips of wine. She kept chattering about how much fun we were going to have and how glad she was to have me there. Frank had some great ideas for the sessions tomorrow. Oh and she was glad that I was going to be taking her dancing.

Finally, while she was chewing a particularly large bite of her burger I had a chance to speak. "Ah, Shannon, what do I need to do tomorrow?"

"Didn't you read the letter?" Then she laughed and it sounded like chimes. "Oh yeah! You thought it was a trick. Well, April fool sugar. Now let's go dancing." She jumped up, took my hand and we went ... to the bathroom. I had flown across the country to watch a sexy supermodel brush her teeth!

As she bent over the sink I took in her whole body. The dress barely covered her crotch and was extremely low cut in the back. I was staring at yards and yards of creamy playmate flesh. It occurred to me that we were going to attract a lot of attention.

Against my better judgment I spoke, "Um, Shannon? It might be a little cool downstairs. Do you have a jacket or shawl or something?"

Shannon grinned at me, "Good idea. Let me get something. You go get ready and meet me back here." She ran to her room like an excited school girl.

So I went back, cleaned up, changed into a clean shirt, and when I came back Shannon was waiting and like a tornado she took my hand and swept me out of the room down the hall and into the elevator. She was wearing a black shawl that did nothing to hide the lush curves but at least muted the transparency of the dress.

In the elevator she leaned against a wall and took both my hands in hers, "Do you like to dance? It's OK if you don't. You'll like dancing with me. Did Frank tell you to use the production code to sign for everything? I hope they have good music." On and on like that. Ordinarily such chatter would be annoying but she looked so pretty and seemed so genuinely excited and her voice was so damn sexy that all I could do was drink it in.

The club turned out to be on the top floor. The place was packed and the music was unrecognizable. It didn't matter to me since the company was so fine.

Walking in with Shannon Stewart on my arm was a real challenge. The guys in the room actually did bulge out their eyes like in the cartoons. I heard all sorts of comments and whistles as we walked by. The crowd in point of fact did part for us just on the strength of Shannon's sexy walk. Everybody wanted a look at that rear slinking along under that white silk.

I also couldn't help notice that having a hot looking woman on your arm made you look good to the other hot women in the room.

It was going to be an interesting night.

Shannon immediately staked out a table and tossed her shawl over a chair. So much for modesty. She spun around and shot her arms in the air and was writhing to the music. She pressed in close to me, and that was pretty much it. I'm not much of a dancer but she made it easy. Her only rule seemed to be, "Stay close." So I did.

Sometimes her voluptuous chest would be pressed against me. Other times she would be grinding her bottom into me and slithering up and down my body.

After about five minutes we were both sweaty but because of the thin fabric of her dress she may as well have been nude.

I noticed that about half the guys in the room had stopped dancing and were staring at us. Then came a slow dance. She draped her arms over my shoulders and pressed her head against my chest. I'm considerably taller than she is and I was becoming high on the scent of her honey brown hair.

The beat picked up bringing more of her erotic squirming. Finally she gasped, "I need some water." So we moved to our little table.

She asked me to get her a drink and I asked her if she was OK alone. I was glancing around at the guys crowding around us.

I worked my way over to the bar and I was getting smiles and hellos from an incredible array of truly foxy women. Somehow, the presence of Shannon made me a stud. OK. I could play along.

At the bar a another woman who could be a candidate for Playboy herself actually grabbed my ass as she asked me to dance. "Um, maybe later I mumbled."

I came back to our table with a couple of designer waters and of course there was a guy the size of Arnold Schwarzenegger in my chair. This was not going to be easy, I thought.

But then it turned out to be a snap. As soon as she saw me Shannon jumped up and sat me in the chair and then she wriggled into my lap.

The Arnold double glared at me. "Shannin sez I gotta ask you if she can dance wid me," he mumbled.

By now Shannon had her arms around my neck and was looking at me with doe eyes. Dare I say bedroom eyes? I gave her the water, drank mine down in one gulp, pounded the glass on the table and said in my most macho voice, "Well, Gargantua, the thing is, we have to get up early tomorrow so I'm taking this little cutey to bed." Shannon grinned up at me.

Arnold stood up and said, "Wait a minute." Fear of Arnold at that moment instantly reduced the hard on I just developed in response to Shannon's hot plump ass rubbing my lap. I thought I was about to be shipped home by Federal Express. But the security guards at the club must have sensed trouble because six burly hands held the big gorilla in his seat. Shannon jumped up, spun around to give everybody a show and wrapped herself in her shawl. She took my arm, and with her head resting on my shoulder we exited the club pretty much the way we came in, that is, attracting lots of attention.

In the elevator Shannon grabbed my ears and pulled me down into a big kiss on both my cheeks. "My hero!! Thank you so much I had such a great time." I could feel her nipples stabbing into me. "I know you were only kidding about taking me to bed. But you know what. I do need to get some sleep. Frank can be a bear before a shoot."

My head was spinning as the elevator sank down to our floor. When we got to the door Shannon pulled me into her again. This time she wrapped one of her shapely legs around me and gave me a wet (albeit closed mouth) kiss on the lips. She pushed me away with one hand. "I want you to promise me something. I saw those girls checking you out. I want you to go back to the club and have some fun. Show those guys up." She blew me another kiss and disappeared into her room.

Who was I to deny her request? Two things: 1) this was a golden opportunity never to come my way again, 2) if I didn't do something I would be spending the whole night playing with myself because of the way Shannon had turned me on.

Sure enough I was back at the bar for about five minutes before that friendly blonde came back. "What happened to your playmate?" she asked.

I guess word had gotten around. It's not hard to imagine that Shannon had been recognized by any number of men in the room. But I couldn't believe what came out of my mouth next, "Well, she's for dessert; I figure you for the main course." Gezz, what an asshole I was. But you know what? It worked.

She gave a lusty laugh and said, "Let me buy you a drink."

"No," I said, going for broke. "Let me buy you a drink. I've got a nice champagne in my service bar downstairs."

She stepped back, looked me up and down for a second then asked what room I was in. After I told her she said wait a second and she turned around to talk to her girlfriend. Meanwhile I was wondering if there was even a service bar in the room, let alone a nice bottle of Coke. But she turned back to me and took my arm. "Let's go."

This was now my third showy promenade through the club. As we walked past him I could see the Arnold look-alike trying to figure out what rock band I was in.

The elevator was there as soon as I pressed the button which was lucky since it looked like a couple of guys may have been following us. We stepped in pressed, the button and started down. The woman took both my hands and pulled me towards her.

"By the way, I'm Brande." Then she kissed me, shooting her tongue in and squeezing my ass. When the doors opened she pulled on my belt and asked which way to the room.

Well, there was a bottle of champagne, and Brande enjoyed it. In fact, we had a couple more bottles later. Brande likes champagne with sex. She actually said that, "I like champagne with sex." How can you not love a girl like that?

When we came in the room she really took charge. She insisted that we leave the door unlocked and I soon found out why. She told me to open the wine. That's when she said it, "I like champagne with sex."

She immediately went to work on the bed. She pulled down the covers and got the extra pillows out of the closet. She then kicked off her shoes. She took a glass of wine from me, clinked, and as she drank she undid my pants.

I've never had my cock in a mouth full of champagne and it's an experience I hope to repeat. At first it's a little cold but then the bubbles take over. Plus Brande's tongue was really athletic.

She just took in the tip at first and was rolling her tongue all around it. After each sip of wine she would pull me back in but each time a little deeper. It took her about three glasses to take the whole cock down her throat but then she really started sucking and slurping. Even after I came she kept sucking for a couple of seconds, as if she wanted to make sure. She then took a big gulp of wine and stood up.

She smiled and pulled off my shirt. She then turned around and taking the bottle led me to the bed.

She pushed me down, then standing over me did a slow strip tease. She was wearing a tight red miniskirt and a red tank top. She took great pleasure in easing down the zipper of the skirt and controlling its descent with the sway of her hips. Brande was not a girl who bothered with panties.

Somehow she managed to go even more slowly with the top, shedding it as if it were a second skin.

Her breast were really large and firm and in retrospect I think a little enhanced, but frankly that was not an issue at the time. She had topped off her wine glass and dipped a nipple in and then brought it to my mouth. It is a good way to taste champagne.