Batwoman meets Catwoman Part One
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Total Woman Journal 05 free porn video
The Caribbean island climate was always tropical and refreshing year-round. It was the perfect venue for indoor, outdoor and beach activities. Ned never checked the weather reports, it was a dismally boring exercise: sunny, passing afternoon showers.
So it was strange that he was fully attentive and prepared to watch every facet of the weather prognostication that Paula was about to present in the small theatre room of the hostel. The projection booth at the rear of the room today would house multiple cameras instead of projectors.
Paula was a TWA graduate with a degree in Mass Communications. She had been shuffling amongst Midwest local stations as a public interest commentator or weather girl. She kept hoping for a sudden sick-day by a regular staff presenter, a lucky chance to demonstrate her skills as a field reporter or a weekend anchor. But the studio executives understood ratings and her great looks left her in parallel moves as the broadcaster’s eye candy and charity telethon enticement. Paula decided a different kind of telethon might do the trick. TWA had arranged a private online screening of Paula’s qualifications.
Paula appeared stage left dressed in a smart business suit. Her blonde hair was fashionably coiffured, her silver ear baubles sparkled beside her perfect stage makeup. The ruffled blouse was buttoned to the neck, the blazer and skirt were cut neat, articulating her womanly curves. Smoky hose covered her athletically sculpted calves protruding from below her skirt hem down to her black heels.
She stopped left of a blue screen where the graphic illustrations would appear. Further to the right was an electronic tote board. It would display the feedback from the exclusive online audience of executive producers.
‘Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my personal telethon. I might call it a dress rehearsal but, as you will soon see, that would be an oxymoron, a contradictory description.
‘Today, I am auctioning personal goods and services. I will pause at times during the performance to solicit perks and proceeds. Please wait until invited before entering your offers. At the end of the show, I will select the best one. Sorry, folks, but there can be only one winner. Stay alert, be competitive and good luck.’
Ned encouraged Paula with silent hand clapping motions, letting her know he approved of her introduction. He was cooperative but impatient to take his part in the spectacle.
The blue screen lit up with a weather map of the Caribbean Sea, dotted with smiling sunbursts.
‘It’s going to be lovely everywhere in the region. Lots of sun with maybe a passing afternoon sprinkle to moderate the humidity.’
Paula used a palm to fan her chin in mock Southern belle swoon-style. ‘I am already feeling a bit flush from the heat and this jacket is just too much.’
Her hands plucked at a blazer buttons straining over her bosom.
‘This coat has to go. But a girl has too watch her clothing budget. Who will bid on a second hand blazer? Can anyone give me $1,000?’
The tote board came alive, the first bid was the minimum. A second bid appeared: $1,200. Another bid followed on the heels of another as a digital clock counted backward from 30 seconds. At zero, a buzzer sounded. Paula walked across the stage and pressed a light beside the highest figure. It appeared at the top of the row with the words: jacket, the amount and an identification number of the bidder. That was the end of round one.
Paula lifted the coat lapels and shrugged it off. She handed it off stage to an assistant.
‘Congratulations to the winner. Your prize should arrive by overnight express tomorrow.’
She returned to her station, stage left of the blue screen display.
‘In sports, today is the anniversary of the famous gold medal victory by the US Women’s Soccer team where Mia Hamm ripped off her jersey after the win.’
The blue screen showed the legendary celebration by the team’s star player.
‘I will honor the event with a similar act. Who wants my blouse?’
The tote board spun as the clock counted down. At the end, a figure far surpassing the blazer bid won the contest. Paula moved the bid to the second row on the register which now had the added item of: blouse, the bid and ID number.
Paula moved center stage, gripped her silky shirt. She whooped a victory cry and ripped suddenly, popped buttons went flying. She yanked the sleeves off one arm and then the other. It was the viewers’ first good look at her bra-packed cleavage as it rebounded from her vigorous machinations. She wrenched so hard that her hairdo lost a bit of its neatness and tendrils hung over her cheeks. She wadded the silk and tossed it harshly off stage for postage and handling to the bidding victor.
Paula regained her composure, fingering lose strands behind her ear. They were non-compliant and she released the rest of her hair to form a loosened demeanor. She fluffed her curls as they graced her shoulders.
‘In Washington, the government announced another security breach involving hacked computers.’
On the blue screen, a harried bureaucratic spokesman stood at a press conference podium and answered a pool reporter’s shouted question by stating: ‘Yes, we were simply caught with our pants down.’ The image paused in still shot.
Paula gave a sly grin. ‘Well, I’m not wearing pants but what am I offered to get caught with my skirt down?’
Not anticipating a protest from her unseen audience, Paula unfastened the clip and zipped the side zipper down. She walked towards the bid board with the open waited skirt still covering her auspicious ass. The clock buzzed as she arrived. Paula looked at the entries and smiled. Finally, one of the producers understood the personal nature of the telethon.
His entry had no dollar amount but read: ‘Four weekend slots over the coming year as guest news anchor’. Paula moved it to the third posted entry on the register. She faced the cameras and nodded knowingly, signaling that the online participants should take note.
Paula proceeded to donate his prize. She held her hair bun in a gathered handful and beamed her joy. Her hips wiggled and the skirt shuffled down her legs. Its descent revealed her garter-less stockings and cramped panties. She launched the discarded tailored wool off stage with a fluid kick. It would be sent to the creative bidder for his trophy collection.
Freed of street clothes, Paula took a few moments to sashay her splendid ass in a sensuous dance routine while she retraced her path back to stage left.
As she arrived at her standard position, the blue screen lit up with a scene from a mansion’s sunny backyard. Young women skittered and bobbed topless around a pool deck, chased by handsome men in Speedos, one capturing his quarry from behind with handfuls of boob.
‘And in celebrity news, several promising starlets were in attendance at a Hollywood executive’s post-production party. Nubile film assistants, actress wannabes all, spent the weekend with the industry veterans learning the ropes, or gropes, as it were. The star actors familiarized the eager young guests with the massive size of their egos, talents and God given endowments.’
As she spoke, Paula inched her hands behind her back. As the film clip ended, she paused and smirked, nodding to the tote board. She watched as the bids started their run-up. As the buzzer sounded, she clicked the bra back clasp. The cups and straps hung looser on her frame.
After giving the cameras a moment to get set, she replicated the prancing jog of the nubile actresses, her generous boobs bouncing under the lacy covers. Arriving at the tote board, she leaned forward and the chesty undergarment dropped down her arms before being tossed to join its predecessor items offstage.
Paula stood tall and proud. She cupped her own tits and displayed the mounds for her audience. A quick lick and
a finger circle of the areolae completed the display. Turning to the bids, she was pleased with the progressive nature of the offers.
‘A weekend of a hands-on interview in Paris for a year-long contract as weekly host of special reports from luxurious vacation resorts.’
‘A week of interviews with the studio producers in Bali leading to a two year contract as special reporter.’
Paula studied and pondered the difference between the two top competing offers. One interviewer would be good, more intimacy and less effort as the man tired less through the fewer days and nights. Multiple interviewers would keep her busy but might be fun as the men competed for her approval. The real difference was the contract term and she chose the two year offer. It became her fourth selection on the register and she re-crossed the stage with a model’s hard step to give her boobs and ass an inviting jiggle.
During the latest winning bid selection, a kitchen island countertop had been placed at her blue screen station. Paula dropped a short kitchen apron over her neck and tied it around her waist. It covered her nipples and belly but not much else. The stage prop table held a tray of cookies.
‘In our homemaker segment this evening, we have tips for you housewives on taking care of the old hubby after his hard day at work.’
This was Ned’s cue and he stepped onstage. Paula smiled sweetly and opened her arms to welcome her homeward arriving husband. Ned let her hug her tits hard against his shirt. He pulled her closer and squeezed her ass cheeks as they melted into a passionate extended kiss. She leaned back in his arms as they came up for air.
‘How was work, honey?’
‘I was hard all day thinking of you, dear.’
‘Really? Let me see.’ Suspended in Ned’s supporting hug, Paula rubbed her hand soothingly on his crotch. Her other hand took a macaroon from the counter tray.
‘I made cookies’ she said. She offered him a nibble as she continued the slow sensuous rub on his groin.
‘I don’t want cookies, I want nookies.’ he said.
His hand swept the cookie tray off the far edge of the counter and it clattered to the floor. He pulled the apron ties and lifted the neck loop offer her head. He palmed her ass cheeks and lifted her butt onto the table edge. He grasped her ankles and elevated her legs, resting them either side on his shoulders. His hands rumbled between Paula’s thighs, gripping her panties and tearing them apart at the sides. He braced her legs again, cupping her ass cheeks.
He dove in. His tongue licked her labia, using his finest cunnilingus expertise. Paula lay back on the countertop, staring at the ceiling, her eyes and mouth opening and closing in silent appreciation as Ned worked her soft flesh. Her hands roamed to his scalp. Ned’s head bobbed and weaved, moving his face side to side and up and down. She locked her ankles as her ass vibrated in Ned’s captive hands. Suddenly, Paula’s hands scooted to grip the counter edges. Her body locked ridged as her orgasmic wail filled the kitchen setup.
Ned stayed in character until he felt her completely relax, then backed out. Standing back, he assisted Paula with a hand as she righted and joined him standing. They kissed, Paula tasting her own love juice. Ned placed both hands on her shoulders and pressed down. Paula turned his back to the table before descending. His shorts fell off at her insistence. His cock was fully hard, of course, her encompassing mouth was wet and warm.
The online feed zoomed in for a close-up. Paula was a cacophony of tongue, lips and bobbing face. Ned let her play for the cameras but this would not be the end for him. He pulled her off and pushed hard, splatting her ass on the floor, quickly kneeling between her legs as she braced her torso on elbows, spreading wide as Ned pierced her.
Unseen by the onstage fucking partners, the tote board lit up. It began ticking as Ned rammed into Paula in earnest. The countdown was scheduled to be longer this time: 60 seconds for this final bidding round. Ned quick stroked, one beat per second. Bids arrived.
‘Two weeks of interviews at your choice of venue, your choice of head count, one year of weekday news updates.’
‘Personal assistant to the producer of your choice, promotion to assistant producer in one year.’
Other similar entries filled the available slots.
As the clock reached its countdown, Ned reached his peak. Paula held him tight in her embrace as he pulsed his spunk deep inside her. The buzzer was unable to drown out his cry of ecstasy. There was no other noises in the auditorium except their diminishing gusts of breath as calm returned. Ned finally backed off and rolled on his back. His cock flopped on his belly as lay resting.
Paula roused herself and walked gracefully to the final bid tabulation. Nude but for stockings and heels, she read through the final offers. All were beyond anything she would have gotten from continuing her rounds through the local and regional hiring managers. With thoughtful foresight, she picked the one that offered two years of internship with quarterly special reports from worldwide luxury resorts catering to the rich and famous.
Attended by studio assistants and video technicians during the onsite tapings and broadcasts, Paula would stand out as the center of attention eyeballed by the curious and affluent alpha males guests. She could be selective as she lured the lusty suitors, one of whom could be unwittingly destined to be her lifelong mate. It was the perfect scenario for meeting the objectives of her unique education: prosperity for her, a generous alumni endowment for her alma-matar and a secure legacy admittance for her daughters at the Total Woman Academy. Paula’s career and life had just taken a fortuitous turn for the better.
Cathalina
- 18.12.2020
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