NOTE:
Well, it's certainly been a while. I apologize for the enormous gap in stories, but hopefully I haven't lost my touch yet. As always, if you have any feedback, comments, or requests/suggestions, please let me know in the comments below. Enjoy!
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The sun hung low in the sky as Peter rapped his knuckles against the large wooden door. It was a warm summer evening, and the door belonged to his neighbor, whom he hadn't seen in a few weeks. Diane had been away on a vacation, alone. She'd flown across the country to go on a cruise with a friend from college, someone she'd known for decades. Peter didn't want to admit it, but he'd missed her these past few weeks. Not only was his hand no comparison to her mouth and body, but he'd grown to appreciate Diane as a friend, and missed spending time with her.
However, now she was back, and Diane had texted Peter to invite him over for another recording session. They'd pre-recorded a few miscellaneous pieces of audio erotica for her to post to her fans while she was gone, but that was weeks ago. Now, Peter was ready and eager for something new. He was ready to see Diane again.
The front door swung open and in the doorway stood the short, chubby, mature brunette who made Peter weak in the knees. She looked a tad more tan, her body radiating warmth as he looked her up and down, drinking in the sight of his neighbor. She was twice his age, but he was enamored by the sight of her curvy legs, wrapped up in tight yoga pants, and her maternal bosom, sealed away in a sports bra under a tank top. Her caramel hair was down at her shoulders, still in loose curls as it always was. Diane gave a warm, genuine smile, before bringing Peter in for a soft hug. His chest pressed against her cushiony breasts and she could feel a slight jolt in his pants.
Once inside, Diane shut the door behind Peter. "It's so great to see you, you look... great." Peter blushed slightly, embarrassed that the only adjective he could come up with was "great."
"So do you, I'm glad to be back. We've got so much to record! I did lots of writing." Wasting no time, Diane picked up a script off her coffee table and handed it to Peter.
"Oh, wow, no downtime, huh?" He joked, but was quickly cut off.
"I just had a few weeks of downtime. I'd love to catch up, but we simply don't have the time. Maybe another day, we'll grab coffee and I'll tell you about the cruise." Diane was terse, but Peter could tell that she was just focused on getting another story to her paying customers. He thought about what it'd be like to get coffee with Diane. The last time they'd gone out in public together, she'd given him a handjob under the table at a restaurant.
"Alright, no time to waste, what's the story?" He asked as they made their way toward the recording studio, a guest room Diane had set up with all the necessary equipment.
"I got this idea after watching all those scandals on the news. Politician plus intern!" Diane smiled, proud of her inspired breakthrough.
"Who's who?" Peter asked.
"I'm a senator, you're my doting intern. Read the script! I'll be in there in a second, let me go get ready." She ushered him into the room before turning and hurrying out.
Peter took a seat at the edge of the bed, feeling the memory foam compress beneath him; no springs, as those would make too much noise for the recordings. He ran his palm across the soft bed sheet and remembered the feeling of Diane's soft skin, entangled in the sheets. He glanced around the room, seeing the new multi-microphone setup. There was one next to the bed, and one next to the computer on the desk, swung out on an arm like something a radio host might use. The computer itself had the recording software open, ready to go.
Before he could get too sentimental, Peter began skimming the script, going over the beats. As always, he was impressed with how tantalizing Diane was with words alone.
"You ready?" Peter heard her just outside the door.
"Yep, all set." He confirmed. As Peter looked up from the script, he watched Diane round the corner into the room, her high heels clacking as she strode. Looking her up from bottom to top, he was first enamored with the striking burgundy heels she had on. They matched her skirt, a form-fitting pencil skirt that hugged her hips. Despite her small stature, Diane's legs seemed to go on for miles between the heels and the hem.
Tucked into the skirt, Diane had on a sensible blouse made of soft silk. It was unbuttoned just one button too many, giving Peter a revealing view of her ample cleavage, which jiggled slightly as she walked. Over the blouse was a navy colored blazer with a simple American flag pin on the front, the perfect token for completing this look.
She was wearing a darker lipstick that almost matched her skirt, emphasizing her plush lips. A pair of fake glasses sat on her face, finishing out the costume, making Diane look like the most MILF-y politician Peter had ever seen (an admittedly low bar).
"Wow," was all he could muster, feeling his pants begin to get tight.
"Is it too much?" Diane asked, genuinely. "I haven't had to dress up in a while, I worry I'm overdoing it."
"No, it—it's perfect." Peter reassured.
"Okay. I guess you're the only one who sees it, so as long as you like it..." her voice trailed off as she looked down at her body. "Not the bed." Diane looked back at him. "Sit at the desk."
Peter nodded and stood up, crossing to the desk chair, sitting with his back to the computer, facing Diane. She walked up to him, her heels tapping as she walked, until she was just a foot away, standing over him, her arms crossed. Leaning down towards him, Peter practically got a face full of her cleavage as she reached past him to start recording. With the press of a button, the session had started, and Diane was in character.
