My name is Dan, and I have been in love with my local newswoman for a couple of years. I know that almost every straight guy out there has a female broadcaster or talk-show hostess (Katie Couric, Leeza Gibbons, some of those Fox News girls, or Jillian Barberie) that he would LOVE to fuck.
Well, a week ago, I finally sold a manuscript, and I got a chance to be interviewed by Sarah Wilcox. She works for a close-by TV station and she drives me to jerk off to her every morning. She is short--5'-4"--and weighs about 105 lbs. Her blonde hair is cut in that Katie Couric-like style, and she has the greatest set of legs I've ever seen (especially when she wears stockings, which is almost everyday). The way she uncrosses her silky poles over and over again while she sits in her cushioned chair, makes me cum every morning at about 6:00. This bitch should definitely be on a national broadcast, but I wouldn't want to lose her; she has the most beautiful cunt around.
Anyway, after I got a call from the station, I was told to be over there at 4:30 in the a.m. the next day for prep. work and shit. My skinny ass was dressed in casual clothes: khaki shorts, an black shirt, and sneakers. (I'm not bad looking for my age; I just got a little beer gut. I'm 25, with a dick 8 inches long, and long black hair. No woman has ever complained to me before about sex, so....).
I walk into the studio, and there's Sarah, sitting in her chair looking over notes. She's wearing a black and white top that seems to have tribal symbols on it. Her tits are small, but they appear marvelous in the tight shirt. Her logs are crossed--of course--and the skirt she's wearing is pulled high up on her nyloned thighs.
"So you're Dan? I've been looking forward to this interview. I read your manuscript; it's great!" As she gazed up at me, I couldn't help but stare at her legs--she was my fantasy, after all, and I had to enjoy this while it lasted. She stretched out her slim fingers for me to shake.
"I...uh...I'm so happy to be on here! I watch your show every morning. And, thank you for the compliment." My cock was like Hercules trying to break free from massive chains (in this case, it was just the fabric of my shorts). I struggled with my erection as I took her warm hand in mine and shook it.
She released it, and I thought I saw her leer at my crotch. Probably not. 'A chic this hot must have a man in her life', I thought at the time. The asshole floor director behind me yelled, "Fifteen seconds, people!", so I sat down across from the glorious image in front of me. Her hazel eyes were sparkling from the flourescent lights around us, and she smiled and said, "Don't be nervous. I'll make sure your day goes well." She winked, and the guy counted down: 5...4...3...2...1...and we're on"
I'm not going to bore you with the questions she asked--fuck it. But I will tell you that she undid her legs all the time throughout the short interview, and she let me (at least I think she let me) see her black panties over and over again. Also, everytime she would shift her tiny ass around, the top of her thigh-highs would peek out at me, begging to be licked; they covered her legs so sweetly.
Four questions later, she was done. The cameras went off for the time being--until noon, anyway--and she shook my hand again. She thanked me for the pleasant interview, and I reached up to scratch my nose afterwards. Damn! Is that her snatch I smell? It was succulent. The thought of Sarah Wilcox fingering herself before the show brought my cock up again. I crossed my legs, this time, to hide my arousal.
She stood up, threw her note-cards down on the chair, and extended her hand to me again. A line of liquid was running down her black nylons, and I sensed the smell of cunt juice again. "Would you like a short tour, Dan?"
"Yeah, okay," I said, as I stood up to meet her.
