Living Next Door to Heaven 2Introduction to Part IX Heaven s Gate
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Living Next Door To Heaven 229: High Test free porn video
We were busy as hell. I was in my third week of summer school and even though I was only taking one class, they were packing a full five semester credits into one six-week term. I could only imagine that the intensive production camp we'd have in July and August would be even more stressful. Rhonda was almost burnt out on Sunday and we'd had some pretty exhausting sex—first just her and me, then with Sam, and finally with both Sam and Rose. As soon as she'd passed out, I was back in my chair studying.
That's where Angela found me Wednesday night. She looked at me questioningly and I opened my arms so she could crawl into my lap. I thought Angela was awesome when I was ten and eleven. She was a year older and developed as fast if not as dramatically as Brenda. And she'd shown me everything. Everything was on full display and in contact with everything I had to offer when she sat in my lap and curled up. The difference was that now I knew what everything was for.
We'd fooled around a little since she moved in with us, but we hadn't gone all the way. Usually, we touched each other just as we were now, curled up in the chair. A couple times, I'd awakened in the middle of the night to find her stroking my cock and returned the attention.
I'd absorbed everything about chemistry that I was going to tonight. I'd read the two chapters on inorganic compounds and reread the parts I highlighted. Focusing on Angela was the perfect way to end the evening. When I lifted my lips to her, she met them eagerly.
"I've mostly got the hang of explicit permissions now," she sighed. "We seem to have a pretty liberal interpretation of them when we're all sleeping together. I don't mind. I still have trouble asking for what I want."
"You might have noticed that I still have the same problem," I said. "It's a cop-out for me to give my hearthmates a blanket permission, but it still depends on them to tell me what they want. And it still might not be what I want."
"What do you want?" Angela asked.
"Angela, I want to become more intimately involved with you. I don't necessarily mean rolling into bed and fucking tonight, but I want more than kissing you. More than fondling and kissing your nipples. More even than putting my fingers in your pussy. What I'd like right now ... What my mouth is watering for ... is to eat you. I think that's what I want, Angela. May I eat you?"
"Yes. And because you were so nice about it, I promise that for the next step, I'll do the asking."
"Trade places and sit back and relax."
"You want to do it right here in front of the fire and everyone?"
"We're the only ones up."
"Oh, you are up."
"Relax. We can save that till later." I bent between Angela's dark brown thighs and looked again at the first pussy I'd ever seen. I leaned forward and flicked her little pleasure button with my tongue.
"Oh! You went right for the tip. Easy! I'm so on edge. Take your time," she said. I licked more deeply and she sighed.
"You once told me that if a man didn't stimulate a woman's pleasure button, he would not be able to fertilize her egg," I laughed.
"I know a lot more than I knew then," Angela said. "I just haven't been able to share it with anyone."
"Like what?" I kept gently licking at her vagina. She was a little salty, but very sweet. I wondered what she'd been eating. The girls told me I tasted different after different meals.
"My pleasure button is just the tip. It's like the glans on your penis. I know you like to have it stimulated, but don't you love it when I stroke the full length? Or when you go as deep as you can between Rose's breasts or into Brenda's throat?" Damn, she'd figured out a lot about the sexual proclivities of different girls. "You like to go bump with Courtney's asshole, but you love to sink all the way into her rectum. And I know that even though you have played around the outside, touching your penis to Mary's clitoris, you are just waiting to sink into her vagina to your full length."
"And you are saying there is more to the clitoris than I'm touching?" I asked. This was interesting, besides being a big turn-on.
"The clitoris is actually kind of wishbone shaped. That puffy tissue beneath the inner labia is the crura, the legs of the clitoris. They surround the vaginal opening and even though they have fewer nerve endings, stimulating them like you are right now is very pleasurable. Very." As she described herself to me, I explored her with my tongue. I wondered if that was what I did when I moved my fingers around the edges of a girl's pussy and up into the top of her vagina. They always seemed to like that stimulation. I noticed Angela's clit—or what I called her clit—had hidden behind the hood again.
"Am I doing something wrong, Angela?" I asked. "Your clit shrank back inside the hood."
"Oh no! Don't stop. My clit didn't shrink. It's so sensitive. The hood, as you call it, and the labia, are erectile tissue. When you get erect, everything comes out. When I get erect, the flesh covers everything to protect it from over-stimulation. Oh! Please keep doing what you are doing. Please!" I kept doing it and Angela's pussy kept fluttering open and closed.
"There are over 8,000 nerve endings in the glans of the clitoris," she panted. I had the impression she wasn't struggling to reach her orgasm, but to prolong it. "It is the only organ in the human body, male or female, that has no other purpose than to give pleasure. The only organ with as many nerve endings—maybe more—are the lips. Some say 10,000 nerve endings. Think about it, Brian. Your lips and my clitoris. It's like having ... a whole stadium ... full of cheering ... climaxing fans!" She was off. I could recognize Angela's orgasm, having fingered her to a few. Her hips thrust forward and her stomach muscles cramped. Her dark thighs shook. Her nipples got so hard it looked like they'd explode. I clamped my ten thousand nerve endings over her eight thousand and she cried out. I think it would have been a scream if she'd had enough air in her lungs to force it out. It wasn't quite silent, but was muted, as if Angela had just gone far away.
I crawled up to pull her into my arms and we rolled in the chair so she was on top of me again and I could rock her as she shook through aftershocks of her orgasm. When she had breath, she kissed me. At first the kisses were frantic, then soft, and finally longing and loving. While I held her and rocked her, she reached for my cock and softly stroked it. I was pretty well primed. I leaned in to suck on her nipples and she squeezed my cock in exactly the right place to trigger my orgasm. I sucked half her breast into my mouth as I came.
I guess my brains went spewing out my cock, as well.
"You're so beautiful, Denise. I love you."
"What?"
I looked up into Angela's startled eyes. What had I done? Angela started to push away but I pulled her to me more tightly.
"Don't! Please don't go away. I can't stand it." I was crying. I'd hardly thought of our dead girlfriend since we came to Bloomington. Could it be that just the color of Angela's skin had triggered my memories of Denise? "Oh god, Angela! I'm so sorry. Please don't push me away."
"I think you need to explain," she said. She didn't pull away. It took me a minute before I could control my sobs enough to start to tell her the story.
"She's dead," I moaned. "He killed her and I ... he's dead, too. But when I think of her, all I can see is how beautiful she looked at prom and how happy she was. And it's like she's right here."
"And you thought of her just now because ... she was black, wasn't she?" I nodded, my face still buried against Angela's chest. "It's okay, Brian. Tell me about it. Let me cherish your memory, too."
It was a long night. Well, it was already past midnight when I made my gaffe and we were wrapped in a blanket in the chair in front of a cold fire by the time I finished talking. How the fuck can a memory burst into a raw wound so fast? I said a prayer for Rhonda before I went to sleep after four, and breathed a prayer for Denise as well. Rest in peace, sweet girlfriend. We still love you.
Rose, Sora, and Brenda rode to class with us Thursday morning and went with Rhonda and Samantha to the Media Lab. I was headed toward my chemistry class, but somehow I overshot and ended up in Dunn Woods. It's like this dense woodland park in the middle of the quad of classroom buildings on the old part of campus. There's a bronze statue there and I sat on a bench staring at it. It's a man and a woman approaching each other, but there is a space between them that you would think the artist would have closed up a little. And even though they are obviously adults, they're about three-quarter size.
I kept looking at it thinking, 'What's between them? Why are they so far apart?' Eventually, I got up to go to class and looked for the bronze plaque that gave the title and artist. Jean Paul Darriau, 'The Space Between: Adam and Eve.' Apparently, I'd asked the right question. I missed the first lecture.
"All right. Uh ... How do we look? I mean, cameras. I mean, give me a picture so we can check the lights, please. Damn. This is harder than I thought it would be," the guy said. He must have been twenty or close to it to be in this class, but after witnessing Rhonda's producer/director demonstration last week, this guy was definitely going nowhere. "I didn't realize you'd all be in such ... I mean, I was thinking gym clothes or something." I did have to laugh at that. In front of him, Brenda, Sora, and Rose were dressed in leotards and tights facing the camera. There were eight tight butts in similar attire in front of them.
"John, tell them what you want. Do you want them in gym clothes instead of tights? That's something you should have discussed in the production meeting on Thursday," Rhonda said softly.
"No. Uh ... This is fine. Great. It was just a surprise. Beth? Would you make a note to discuss the workout clothes at our next meeting, please?" I could see a woman nearby with a clipboard jotting down a note. "Now, let's see the feeds. Lights up full. Do we have music? They can't do a workout without their music. We have cameras live. Sora, give what instructions you need and let's get a couple minutes of movement on tape so we can check camera angles. Don't worry about the intro yet, this is just to get spacing. Action!"
Sora gave a brief instruction and the music started. They all fell into an exercise routine where the two rows of women followed a well-choreographed routine led by Sora, Brenda, and Rose. Sora really stood out between the two blondes. She was off the mark, as if it was a gymnastics routine. Instant energy.
"I can certainly understand why he's flustered," Lonnie laughed softly next to me. "That's probably more female shape than he's ever seen before. Watch, though. He'll loosen up. Rhonda's handling him well."
"Cut!" John yelled. "Lights, we've got a shadow that Sora keeps moving into. Sora, could you show him that step-thrust move once. Right there. See it?"
"Got it, John. I need to pull in the ladder. Excuse me, ladies." The lighting tech pushed in the step ladder and climbed to adjust the light. Rhonda and John were talking at the monitor and she pointed at the screen. It was a completely different camera crew than had worked on Elaine's monologue. Two of the three cameramen from that show were now acting as grips, moving cameras, lights, and curtains.
"Camera one," John called. "You are either at full body shots on the workout women or tight on their faces. Don't let me see another shot where you focus on boobs. I can do this show without you." Wow! Good call. I wondered if that was what Rhonda talked to him about. In a few minutes the light ladder was moved, the camera angles and shadow were checked, and John called for a full show intro. "Live in three..." he counted down on his raised fingers and Sora launched.
SORA: Are you ready to get fit? I'm Sora.
BRENDA: I'm Brenda.
ROSE: I'm Rose.
SORA: We aren't here to pretend. This is about getting sweaty. Let's step into it. Follow along, ladies. Music.
There was a good downbeat and I instantly wondered where they'd gotten the music for their routine. The first exercise was just what Sora had called. They stepped forward and stepped back. In a couple minutes, everyone was in synch and the music was rocking the building.
ROSE: Time to add a step. This time step out, pivot, step back, and clap. Forward, pivot, back, and clap. Go ahead and loosen those arms up. This is a good step to clap on. Ready, with me!
I hadn't noticed that the music softened while Rose was speaking, but as soon as she stepped out and pivoted, I noticed it come back up. They kept it moving and in another five minutes, John called a cut.
"Makeup. Water. Cool everyone down and get them fresh to take it from the top again. You've got fifteen minutes, mark now!" John called. "Rhonda, we need levels. What would it take to get a couple low platforms that we could move in here?" I nodded to Lonnie. The exercise show was going to be a smash. And if it was our women who were going to do an hour of exercises every day, they were going to all be hard bodies by the end of summer.
"Are you okay with this, Brian?" April asked. While John continued his test shoot of the exercise program, April Lee, the camerawoman Rhonda had been working with all last semester, had called me over to the kitchen to talk about my spots. We were going to test a couple this afternoon and I'd just learned that April would be my director for the Young Cooking season.
"Well, getting to know you better last weekend helps. You've come a long way in the past six months, April."
"Yeah. You got to know me better than I ever intended," she laughed. When she and Rhonda had come in from shooting at Doreen's house, we'd all been naked. Rather than act all embarrassed, April just joined us for dinner. "Have you met Maggie, yet?"
"Hi, I'm Maggie Kwan," a nice looking Asian woman said, holding out her hand. We are fed so many stereotypes on television that I was surprised when she spoke with no discernible accent. She noticed. "Korean parents. American daughter. You'll be okay with me as your producer, I hope. I've been working on it for two weeks already."
"I'm a little unsure what the roles are," I said. "Rhonda has always done everything."
"Here's the way it breaks down," Maggie said. "Rhonda is April's and my boss. She's making sure we don't fuck up your show. Believe me, we know what is at risk, not only for us, but for you, as well. I'm handling the production issues. I'm making sure we have a crew and they have their assignments, which, by the way, includes making sure you have assistance backstage to get food ready for the show. I'm responsible for making sure that you have a girlfriend and an audience for each show. You may have noticed that I don't have a responsibility on either of the other shows. Being your producer is a fulltime job."
"With Maggie making sure we have everything we need to succeed, it's my job to make you look good on camera," April picked up the narration. "I'll be calling the shots, watching the lighting and audio, troubleshooting problems during performance. We'll be using multiple cameras, unlike the way we shot your show last season. But we won't be doing fancy camerawork like they'll do on Chick Chat. Your show already has a feel and we don't want to suddenly change it to something else. Multiple cameras means that we'll be able to have fewer stops and starts, like you worked up in South Bend. When we worked with a single camera, we had to stop the action every time we wanted to change angles or use the mirrors."
"Everything on camera belongs to April. Everything off camera belongs to me. And Lauren. She has to work as a grip on the exercise show, but she's my assistant on Young Cooking. If you need a blowjob or something, call her." I looked at Maggie and raised an eyebrow. "I'm kidding! Oh my god, you don't do that, do you?" From being light and playful, Maggie was suddenly horrified.
"I don't know. That's always been Rhonda's responsibility. You'd better read your job description," I said. Maggie went pale. "I'm kidding!" I said. "I'm pretty sure Rhonda wouldn't give up that part of her job, no matter how cute you are." Maggie pointed her finger at me.
"We are definitely going to have fun on this show. Let's go over the spots we're going to shoot this afternoon."
We managed to actually shoot four of the one-minute cooking tips that afternoon. They were all declared usable. Having an established look and feel for the show was definitely a help and the tips were pretty simple. Using spray bottle spritzers for oil, lemon juice, and vinegar; cleaning a glass coffeepot with ice, lemon, and salt; keeping asparagus fresh in the refrigerator overnight; and safely sharpening a carbon steel knife with a honing steel. I only needed to come up with fifty-six more of these to play in one-minute slots on Elaine's show.
Neither April nor Maggie stayed into the evening with us.
It's pretty bizarre. I look around the room and see the cameras have at least been stowed in a corner. There are drapes covering the front door—in fact, that whole end of the house. I suppose the window and door are too distracting to film the exercise show in front of. All of our pillows and the big chair have been moved away from the fireplace and there is a desk sitting beside it. We don't even have room in the middle for our dining table. Is this what it's going to be like? The only thing that still looks the same is the kitchen, but even that is just another television setting.
And I missed you on set yesterday. You left it all to April and Maggie. I'm not saying they aren't good. They worked just fine and I met Lauren. But I felt pretty much like a commodity. A talking set prop. We went over the list of show themes and Maggie doesn't want to do the garden episodes. She wants us to stay strictly on the kitchen set. She said Angela could just bring produce in if I insisted on having her on camera. I get a weird vibe from her. Would a Korean be racially prejudiced against a black woman? How forceful can I be with what I want on the show?
Why aren't you there with me?
I eventually found Rhonda in Stall One Sunday morning. She had a cup of coffee and was focused on a spreadsheet that covered the computer screen.
"Hey, honey," I said. "Aren't you taking a break this weekend?"
"Don't have time," she said. She didn't turn toward me. "I have to work out the studio schedule now that we know how much scenery and equipment has to be moved from set to set. It would make it easier if we filmed a whole day on a single set and then moved to a different set the next day. But Lonnie wants the class to be in a multi-show production environment and the T and A crew can't shake their booty all day long. It will take them at least an hour to cool down and redo their hair after each workout. We can't even do the two back to back. It sucks."
"You sound pretty stressed. I missed you during my production yesterday," I said. I started to massage her shoulders and she tensed up to my touch before she allowed herself to relax.
"Was there a problem with Maggie or April?" Rhonda stayed focused on the screen.
"There might be. Maggie wants to scrap the week of doing outdoor shots in the garden. I think she might be reacting negatively to Angela."
"It would simplify equipment use if we didn't have to move outside. But one of the principles I agreed to with Lonnie was that crews would get handheld camera experience within the confines of the ranch. We're not sending a crew to the farmers' market, though," Rhonda said.
"I think those scenes are important to the show. It affects my flow."
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