Bleached Blonde Latinas vs the Boner Boys - Ch. 02
Jovi was at the keyboard, engrossed in something. It was his second full day in Los Angeles, and all he had done so far was eat, sleep, and have sex with Jane. He had not yet put clothes on since he first took them off. "It's better this way," she said. "Less wear and tear on your wardrobe." She also mentioned that his nudity made her hornier, which sealed the deal, so naked he remained. Jane spent a lot of time in her undies. Jovi made her feel eighteen again. The household staff were used to seeing naked men in the house, and Jovi had gotten used to being nude in front of them, so harmony reigned.
In a surprising role-reversal, Jane allowed him to take charge sexually. He could fuck as long as he wanted to; he could fuck until he dropped. Taking a page from Muhammad Ali's 'rope-a-dope', she'd let him fuck and fuck, and cum and cum. He could live out his dominant alpha male fantasy, but she figured that he'd soon tire and look to her for leadership.
Jovi was a house-guest, not a houseboy. He was not a chick-with-a-dick, he was a man-with-a-dick. He slept in an upstairs bedroom, not the semen-infested lair where remnants of Herman's essence remained, no matter how thoroughly and how often the room was cleaned.
The flower-petal, the
Tsubaki
, was the gift that kept on giving. It worked on penises too, and Jovi's orgasms were going off like skyrockets, his cock spurting like a fire-hose. Jane saw male ejaculations as a victory, for it was through orgasms that they were controlled. She had big plans for her cuddly-cute boy-toy, plans which right now called for a lot of sex, and when he wore down, which he would, she'd be ready with her arsenal.
Maybe it was the thrill of banging a porn star that over which he happened to be lusting just a few days earlier, or maybe it was the forbidden pleasure of doing the boss' wife - not just boinking her, but living with her - but whatever it was, Jovi was in sexual nirvana. Later that day he was browsing the Donkey website when Jane came over and sat down by him. She put her arm around his shoulder and caressed it gently. "We're having a visitor tonight. A cunt, and I think wants to fuck you." To his puzzled look, she added, "no, serious, she's the
Soapland
producer. You want to be on the show, right, so if she wants to try you out you'll have to let her." She shook her head side-to-side in mock frustration. "That's showbiz,my darling. It's a tough racket. When I think of all the girls you're gonna have to sleep with in order to get to the top..."
Was she serious, he wondered. "You know, I don't even know how the hell she knew you were here," Jane added. "News travels fast; big-mouth Hideki, no doubt. Hey, what you looking at?"
"I was watching a video. Now I'm reading about it." He chuckled. "Listen to this.
"The girl was terribly miscast as the wife. The role required a catty bitch, but all we got was a bleached blonde Latina."
"Is that my video?" He smiled and nodded. "Let me look at that," she said. "Which one?"
Jovi had landed on Herman's blog. He continued reading the comment for her, and Jane felt better when she found out that the bleached blonde Latina in question was not her, but another Donkey actress. "But that's my film they're talking about. What's the website?" Jane was surprised, to say the least, to learn that it was the Donkey site. She had no idea there was a blog, but now she wanted to read everything. She slid in closer to the monitor, and her leg made contact with Jovi's. If he read the signals correctly, she was hinting at sex.
"Want me to get the vibrator?"
"In a minute, sweet-cheeks, but I wanna read some more of this. Who the fuck is peek-freak, and which chick is the bleached blonde Latina? I gotta know."
Jovi laughed. "You have to admit it's a catchy phrase." The Donkey archives had a video entitled
Girl's Gotta Earn a Living
, the subject of Herman's rant. The lead actress may have really been a bleached blonde, although the jury was still out on that, but she was British, Australian, or something along those lines; definitely not Latina, but as Herman discovered, when you've got your own blog the facts are what you make of them."
On slow days Herman would create a new login account and pose as someone else. He'd make up a false controversy and get into a heated debate with PEEK-FREAK about something. "Ivan Beatoffski? Who is fucking Ivan Beatoffski? He's the bleached blonde Latina dickhead....wait a minute." Jane thought for a moment. "I know that name...Ivan Beatoffski...it's Herman! That filthy bugger! Ivan Beatoffski is Herman; that's one of his names. I've seen it before...I knew it!"
"It's not that bad. He writes some interesting stuff, and it's funny."
"You know what? I remember now. That girl wore black panties, and she might have worn a black skirt too. Herman hates that. Black-on-black, he used to call it. Jesus Christ; I thought he was talking about two black homos at first. That's probably why he insulted the chick. Bleached blonde Latina," Jane uttering the words derisively. "What a sick fuck - hey, wait, you think he writes interesting stuff? Really?"
"Yeah, and he really, really likes your panties." Jane had forgotten that Herman used to post photos of the underwear he had personally selected for her to wear that day.
"Well, that shit's coming off. I'll see to that."
"Why? You're a star. It's a tribute to you. I liked looking at them. But Herman sounds obsessed."
"Obsessed? He's fucking sick. That's Herman all-right. What about you?"
"What about me?"
"You're not a panty freak, are you?"
Jovi smiled. "I'd like to stick my cock in your panties right now."
"Maybe we should wait," she replied, seeing his limp sausage, ravaged and sore from overuse. "You gotta get it up for Connie. You don't want to blow your audition." Softies usually earned her scorn, but now all Jane saw was a beautiful, cuddly-cute cock-head, attached to a cuddly-cute shaft, attached to a cuddly-cute body. She so wanted to mother it, baby it, smother it with tender love, treat it like a national treasure, wrap her lips around it; but Jovi was so tuckered-out he couldn't get a bone, and yet, despite that, he wanted more sex. Jane beamed with pride; was this a Donkey-boy in the making or what? But grooming a Donkey-boy and turning him into a Donkey-stud was an arduous task, though it would be worth it, because with a little luck Jovi would take his place among the pantheon of male performers that helped make her company what it was.
Jovi was exultant. A meeting with the
Soapland
producer? Things were moving fast. Was Jane kidding when she said he'd have to fuck her? The casting couch scared him. Was Connie old? Was she fat and ugly? Maybe he should refrain from sex for awhile, but damn, Jane looked so sexy. "I'll get the vibrator," he said.
Jane was answering an email. "No time." She smiled at him. "Guess what? You get to put clothes on! I gotta run an errand, and you're coming with me." She filled him in on the way to the health spa. Pete's refurbishing had gone over budget, and he was having cash-flow problems. Jane had a vested interest, because not only did she use the facility as the backdrop for many of her videos, she and Pete had a history together. He was one of Donkey's four original founders, along with his ex-wife Monica, and a busty, ballsy broad named Olivia.
Tired of Pete's constant bitching about her filming demands, Jane thought part-ownership would, at the very least, get him to shut-up. Today's meeting was not just to agree to everything that they had already agreed upon; they still had a few remaining issues to hash out before the lawyers got involved. For Pete, it wasn't always about cash. He might demand a role in her next flick, or a hook-up with a slutty friend of hers. For Jane, she heard rumors that a friendly rival of hers was also angling for a piece of the club, and she wanted to strike quickly before that could happen. With Jovi in tow, she breezed past the reception desk acting like she already owned it. "It's ladies day," a pretty young thing behind the counter called out, "he can't come in."
"It's okay," Jane retorted, "he's a porn star," and seconds later she was knocking on Pete's office door. There was no response. Jane put her ear to the door. "I can hear someone in there," she said, knocking louder.
"Go away," was the muffled response, which Jane took as an open invitation, so she turned the door handle and entered. Pete was sitting behind his desk, facing the door, but Jane couldn't see his face. What she could see was a fat-ass girl with extremely long hair bouncing up and down on Pete's cock, her plump cheeks spilling onto his legs. She was leaning forward, with her hands wrapped around his neck and her boobs wrapped abound his face.
"Jesus Christ. What the fuck?" The woman stopped bouncing, she leaned back and extricated herself from a hardened shaft. Pete had a nice dong, for a middle-aged man with a paunchy belly. By Donkey standards it was a standard-issue, mid-range specimen, but he was quite proud of it. It certainly got a lot of action. Unfortunately for him, it was currently stuck in neutral.