PLEASE TEASE ME

by

Rebecca Ambrose

Copyright Rebecca Ambrose 2011

Smashwords Edition

Cover photo courtesy of xedos4 / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

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Chapter One

Dressed in a clingy purple sheath of a dress, split from her slim ankle to the top of her thigh, Jayne Sanders purred at camera two, her words picked up by the microphone in her cleavage. It was the midnight hour on ETV, and it was all Jayne could do to keep from yawning as she attempted to whet the viewers' appetites for the tepid fare on offer.

' . . . starring that delectable hunk, Zach Moran, and stunning newcomer April Showers. So sit back on that comfy sofa, or settle back against that pillow, and prepare to be seduced. Because who can resist . . . "Virgins on the Loose"?'

Once the film titles were rolling Jayne leaned back in her chair with a sigh that was half relief and half boredom. What the hell am I doing, spouting this drivel night after night, she asked herself. Well, it was a living. Since Mick's job had brought him to London she'd found it hard to find a job that covered the extra expense of living in the capital. The TV company she now worked for was at South Quays, just a stone's throw away from the smart, but minute, flat which she and Mick inhabited for a crazy rent.

Stella, her producer, lifted an imaginary cup to her mouth with a questioning look and Jayne nodded, rising to join her. They walked through to the coffee machine and were soon sitting in the rest room with their drinks in their hands and their feet up on the neighbouring chairs. The two women had developed an easy intimacy in the six weeks that Jayne had been working at ETV.

'This job is doing my head in,' Jayne confessed. 'I mean, how many ways are there of saying "Hope you enjoy this next offering of tits and bums" without actually saying, "Have a good wank, folks!" Nobody ever watches these films for the plot, surely?'

Stella giggled. 'I hope not – there isn't one!'

Jayne took a sip of coffee, holding it over the arm of the chair to avoid spilling any on her satin dress. 'I suspect they watch them with the sound turned off.'

'Judging from our postbag, most of the men only switch on to see you.'

'They don't get much gratification then, do they?'

'I should think they probably fantasise about you for an hour and a half until you come on to tell them what delicious goodies we have in store for them tomorrow. It's that breathy, little-girl voice you put on. Does wonders for their libido.'

'I wish it had the same effect on my husband!'

'Ah!' Stella pushed her dark fringe away from her eyes and gave Jayne a searching look. 'It's not easy working nights, is it?'

'No. Takes a bit of getting used to. We normally only see each other for an hour or so in the morning and a couple in the evening. But Mick has tomorrow off so he'll probably leap on me the minute I get in and insist on his conjugal rights. Whoopee!'

Jayne's tone was ironic, her smile wry. She knew that Stella didn't have a regular partner. Maybe it was easier that way. She lifted the polystyrene cup to her lips and dropped a spot of coffee down her cleavage. It stung, then dribbled. She wiped it off with her forefinger, feeling the solid swell of her breast as she did so. It gave her a momentary thrill.

'I had a new German film in yesterday,' Stella said. 'But it needed so much editing that the storyline is totally ridiculous. We had to cut it from two hours to one and three quarters. At once point you see her start to give her a blow job and the next minute they're sitting at a table eating sausages and sauerkraut!'

'What did you have to cut out?'

'Close-ups of genitalia, mostly his. And the bit where he sprays her tits then licks it off. Yet we're allowed to keep all the S & M stuff in. Honestly, I don't get this country, I really don't. When you see what the Dutch channels put out we're still in the "Blue Peter" era.'

'Hm, that's an idea. Suppose I dressed up in sticky-backed plastic. D'you think that'll turn them on?'

'Bound to. Personally, I preferred "Rainbow." I've had a thing about zips ever since!'

Jayne's gaze drifted up to the screen in the corner of the ceiling where a woman in a nurse's uniform was giving a man a bed bath. She had enormous breasts and as she bent forward they slipped from beneath her apron and her blouse buttons gaped. A doctor crept up on her from behind and clasped them, making her squeal.

'Oh Doctor!" Fancy coming up behind me like that!' she protested to the amusement of the patient, who promptly leapt out of bed showing the overstated erection in his pyjamas.

'God, it's worse than a "Carry On" film,' Jayne said. 'It's enough to put you off sex forever, watching this stuff night after night.'

Stella gave a wicked grin. 'It's okay if you can find your stimulation elsewhere.'

'Tell me more!'

'I don't think so. You're a married woman.'

'I can still look at other men, can't I? Not that there's much to look at around here.'

'Quite. But the world is bigger than South Quays, fortunately.'

'I wouldn't know where to start looking, quite honestly. If I were interested in having an affair, I mean. Which I'm not, actually. By the time I'm finished here I feel as if I'll never fancy it again for the rest of my life.'

'That's a shame. Why don't you and Mick go away together, next time you have a couple of days off. It would do you the world of good.'

Jayne gave it a moment's thought. On the surface it sounded a good idea. Second honeymoon, chance to rediscover themselves, kind of thing. But Stella didn't know Mick. If they went away together he'd probably spend the whole time watching football on the telly. Even if they got a shag in it would have to be at half-time, and Mick would finish the moment the ref blew his whistle.

'Mm.' Jayne looked at the clock and sighed. Another hour and a quarter to go. If only they hadn't re-scheduled this film she would have been able to put her last link onto video and she'd have been home by now.

Stella seemed to read her mind. 'Look,' she began tentatively. 'I know you haven't been home before midnight for weeks. Why don't I do the "goodnight kiss" for you?'

'Wouldn't that be the kiss of death?' Jayne giggled.

'Thanks a bunch!'

'No, I only meant they might think I'd popped my clogs behind the scenes. I appreciate your offer, Stella. And it would be nice to surprise Mick for a change. Do you think it would work?'

'Don't see why not. I'll tart myself up and tell them you'll be back as usual tomorrow. In fact,' her elfin face brightened, 'I can spin a yarn about how you and the cameraman are otherwise engaged and I didn't want to disturb you. That should amuse them – the ones who are still awake, that it.'

'What, me and fat Ted? I'll sue you for slander!'

'Don't be like that. Are you up for it or not?'

Jayne gave a broad grin. Suddenly the idea of surprising Mick was very alluring. 'Okay. Thanks a lot.'

Stella grinned back, getting to her feet. 'I'll call in the favour sometime, you can be sure of that. Now off you go, and start thinking dirty thoughts. Real dirty, mind. Not censored like the stuff we pump out!'

Ten minutes later Jayne was driving through the quiet back streets in a mood of pleasant anticipation. She felt slightly wicked, as if she were bunking off school. Or, more to the point, as if she were meeting Mick clandestinely as at the start of their romance. He'd been dating another girl when they met, and hadn't been able to break it off for two months. Jayne's full lips curled into a smile as she remembered those secret sessions in her Mini parked in a lonely spot on the moors (fellatio, cramped seat), in the lift of a multi-storey car park (cunnilingus, hard floor) or once in the blissful luxury of a friend's flat (full works, soft bed!)

Now that they'd been together two years that early excitement was gone. Could it ever be revived? Somehow she doubted it. Mick had obsessed her every minute of her waking life, and the precious time they had together had been snatched like stolen goods. Jayne had vague memories of attacking each other with hungry mouths, tearing buttons open with eager fingers, that wonderful moment when he first plunged into her with full force and without preliminaries, then the glorious ride towards mutual release.

Afterwards, when they no longer had to run and hide, the sense of freedom was overwhelming. They made love with slow sensuality, relishing each other like a gourmet meal. They told each other their fantasies, dressed up, explored positions, smoked dope, tried out sex toys. They were always surprising each other, always ready for something new.

Then they moved to London because Mick got a new job, and everything subtly changed. They had neither the time nor the energy to carry on as before, and their love-making dwindled from several hours each night to a brief encounter once or twice a week. It will be better when we're settled, they told each other. Then Jayne had got the job at ETV and Mick had videoed some of the films for them to watch in bed. He had been aroused by them, but it had felt like taking work home with her and she'd found it off-putting.

When Jayne pulled up outside the block of flats they now called home, there was still a light in their window. She smiled to herself as she locked the car, feeling a warm throb in the folds of flesh between her thighs. Anticipation quickened her step as she walked to the door, her heels clacking on the concrete, and as soon as she entered the flat she called out ironically,

'Honey, I'm home!'

The babble of the television came from the sitting-room and Jayne recognised the tacky sound-track of "Virgins of the Loose." When she opened the door Mick was zipping up his fly, his cheeks flushed. She laughed throatily as she rushed in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. 'Naughty boy! I'm surprised at you, watching that trash.'

'What else am I supposed to do?' he asked, his eyes dark, unfocused. Jayne patted his brown, tousled curls. He always looked so boyish when he'd been masturbating. Shades of the school dorm. 'Anyway, why aren't you on the box? I was looking forward to seeing you at the end of this.'

Jayne flopped down onto the sofa beside him and gave him a hug. 'I suppose you were saving the last one for me? Sweet of you. But Stella had pity on my unsocial hours and let me off early. She's doing the honours this time.'

'I wish you could persuade her to get some better films.'

'It's not Stella's fault. Some of the stuff we get is pretty horny, but by the time it's been hacked around to comply with our prissy censorship laws it ends up being utter rubbish.'

As if on cue, the TV suddenly spouted some ludicrously dubbed dialogue: 'Give it to me good and hard, big boy!' 'You slut! You're dying for it, aren't you? I'll teach you to come all prim and proper with me!' etc. etc.

Mick's eyes suddenly lit up. 'Hey, remember that home video we made once, on holiday?'

'God, yes! How could I forget? Where is it?'

Mick leapt off the sofa and soon found it. Slotting into the player, he came back to pull Jayne onto his knee while the video whirred into action. She found the scenes of them playing on the beach poignant. They'd been so hot for each other then. She watched Mick bring her down in a rugby tackle and drag her, pretending to protest, into the grassy sand dunes. The camera had been on a tripod so there were gaps in the action where they'd had to reposition it.

The bit where they made love in the dunes still looked good. Their bodies had been slimmer then, more finely-tuned, and they each had an all-over tan. Jayne's dark-blonde hair had been lightened by the summer sun, giving it a model-girl sheen. She watched fascinated as Mick ran his hands over her nakedness, his prick rearing visibly as he did so. He made her kneel on all fours and took her from behind, with her breasts swinging bell-like and her nipples pointing downwards. She saw the long, hard shaft burrow into her with its pink nose and then his balls were swinging too as he slapped them against the back of her thighs in his frantic lust.

Mick made an animal noise, put his hand into the low neck of her gown and grabbed her right breast. Jayne wanted to feel wanted, but she just felt tired. His fingers groping for her nipple irritated her, made her flesh crawl. Still, it wasn't fair not to respond. She reached down and undid his fly, feeling the semi-erect penis within. Mick groaned.

'Any chance of a blow job?' he murmured, nipping her earlobe in the way that used to turn her on. Now she found it annoying, but she slid from her seat all the same and knelt before him, pulling a cushion down with her for her knees. Perhaps if she satisfied him now he would let her sleep when they went to bed.

Jayne was disappointed that she didn't feel more like sex, but you couldn't manufacture feelings that weren't there. Carefully she lifted his erection out of his pants and encircled the shaft with her thumb and forefinger. There was an instant hardening and the glans reared up, demanding as a babe in sight of the nipple.

'Oh Jayne, this is far better than DIY!' Mick groaned, as her fingers delicately frotted the loose, sensitive skin of his shaft.

'I should hope so!'

He wanted her topless, and pulled down the satin puff sleeves until she could wriggle out of them exposing her broad shoulders and generous bosom in the strapless bra. Jayne liked being 'a big girl up top' as her mother euphemistically called it. Not only were her breasts large and shapely but, thanks to daily workouts with a bust-improving device, they were also firm. And she had nipples with sizeable areolas, capable of being sucked or tweaked or pulled into a state of provocatively stiff elongation. A satisfying mouthful, as Mick put it.

His mouth was yearning towards them now as, freed from the black lace cups, they began to pucker. Mick seized her breasts with both hands and sucked at her right nipple greedily while she continued to play with his hugely distended penis. There was a tingling in her tits and a corresponding sensation in her clitoris, which felt hard and bulbous against the tight confines of her panties. But she herself felt one step removed from the proceedings.

'Lick me, please!' Mick moaned, taking his mouth from her throbbing nipple for a split second. His teeth grazed against it, sharpening up her responses, but still Jayne felt oddly detached. Her mouth enclosed the glistening glans and her tongue bathed it in saliva. Then she opened wide and took in as much of the thick stalk as she could, licking her way down it. It tasted savoury. She fondled his balls gently as she sucked him, handling them like delicate eggs. His mouth moved to her other nipple and she felt the first sharpness of desire hit her, producing a faint ripple of longing deep inside.

Before it could develop into anything, however, Mick began to thrust into her mouth with the heedless urgency that she recognised as the final climb to orgasm. She didn't try to make him hold back but just as the first bitter juices hit her palate she withdrew, disliking the taste. Instead she pushed her breasts together and let him nestle between, which always gave him a thrill. While the juice pulsed out of him he spread it all over her bosom with his palms and she groaned sensually as her nipples became viscous. Somehow that made them more responsive and the more he rubbed the more horny she became.

They lay in a heap on the sofa with the video still playing until Jayne began to feel unpleasantly sticky. She got up and went into the bedroom where she stripped, then stepped into the shower while Mick was still recovering. The effect of the water was to dampen down her ardour, so that by the time she was dry and scented, wrapped in her towelling robe, she had lost her transient sexual feelings and now felt utterly weary.

'I'm going to bed,' she announced.

Mick had put his shirt back on but was otherwise in a state of undress. His penis hung semi-flaccid between his lean, hairy thighs. He gave her a rueful look. 'Won't you come and give me a cuddle first?'

Reluctantly Jayne returned to the sofa and took him in her arms. He lay there, childlike, with his head in her lap until she picked up the zapper and switched off the video.

'Put the TV on again,' he urged her, with a yawn. 'I want to see this boss of yours. I've heard you mention her name so often I might as well see what she looks like.'

'Only a few minutes to go,' she murmured as the screen filled with the 'Vestal Virgin' orgy scene that she knew was the grand finale of that particular film. Although she was tired she didn't mind waiting up to see Stella. She was curious too. How would the other woman look and sound in front of the camera? What would she say? A part of her felt ridiculously insecure at having her rôle temporarily usurped.

While they watched, Mick began to stroke her breasts through the opening in her gown. Jayne found it distracting. She wanted to ask him to stop, but that would seem churlish. Instead she tried to focus her attention on the television. A writhing mass of female bodies in all shapes and sizes filled the screen. In true Hollywood fashion the action took place on a 'Romanised' set with a large square pool surrounded by colonnades filled with couches. It was supposed to be a lesbian orgy, but none of it looked very convincing with women half-heartedly stroking each others' breasts or threading flowers through their pubic hair. A dominatrix was being attended to by three chained slave-girls, just to add a bit of variety, and in another corner a black girl enjoyed a lashing on her bare buttocks with histrionic facial expressions.

In an unlikely feat of synchronicity all the women climaxed simultaneously. When their ecstasies had subsided they indulged in some horseplay, pushing each other into the pool until everyone was frolicking in wet abandon. Then the camera moved up to the open and ultra-blue sky, from which a flock of doves descended in a bizarre attempt at some kind of symbolism.

'Aren't doves one of the attributes of Venus?' Jayne asked sleepily, dredging up the information from a trip to Cyprus.

'Mm, probably.'

She could tell by his vague tone that Mick was getting hot for her again. But the film was over and the credits starting to roll. She removed his hand from her breast and sat up expectantly as he mumbled a token protest. 'She'll be on now.'

The credits faded and the familiar face of Stella March filled the screen. Familiar, and yet unfamiliar. She looked fatter in the face – and older, Jayne thought bitchily. But she couldn't deny that her boss looked attractive. In the hour or so since she'd left her at the studio Stella had made the most of her dark good looks. Her eyes were done up like Cleopatra's, with plenty of kohl-black eyeliner and sooty mascara. She'd put a dab of terracotta on her high cheekbones and her lips were a rich burnt orange. A search through wardrobe had produced a lime green tunic-style dress trimmed with gold braid that seemed appropriate to the film they'd just shown. In fact, she could well have been an extra on the set.

'Wow, she's a bit of all right!' Mick grinned, sitting up on the edge of the seat with his hands on his knees. His penis was now semi-erect and dangling at an angle of forty-five degrees. Jayne felt vaguely jealous. What right did he have to go fancying another woman just minutes after she'd given him a blow job?

Then Stella addressed the viewers in sultry tones that made Jayne giggle. 'Well, that was quite something, wasn't it? Something for everyone in fact, if you could keep your eyes focused long enough. Now for those of you who are still in the land of the living, let me explain that the lovely Jayne is indisposed right now so your humble servant (producer, actually) has stepped into the breach. Hope you like the outfit.' Stella gave a wink and stood up to do a twirl. 'I think it last did service in "Sex Kittens from Mars." Only kidding.'