Gregg stood there for a minute, his hands all full of jism, the syrupy stuff dripping to the floor. That was a great show, he thought. He stuffed his dong back into his pants and reached for a rag for Margot.
'Hurry up,' Margot told him, not looking up at him as she got up and pushed her hair out of her face. 'Jesus, Phil, I thought I was going to suck his kidneys out the way you were making us wait so long.'
Phil put his arm around her as Gregg handed her the rag. 'You were fantastic, doll. You always give me some great action pix. Harry and clean up, so we can get a bit to eat. I'm starved.'
'I'll bet you are,' she grinned, taking the rag and wiping her face with it. 'And I know just what to feed you.'
Phil flashed her a smile and walked off. Margot cleaned the last smears of cum from her cheeks when she noticed that Gregg Connelly was staring at her.
'Hey, baby, what's wrong with you? The action too much to handle?'
Gregg didn't know what she meant until he saw that she was indicating his own cum-messed hands.
'Been pulling on it enough?'
She laughed and walked to her dressing room.
Bitch! he thought furiously as he watched her waddle away. How could she say that about him? It was enough to make a guy peter-out. To hell with her, he'd show her. Some way, somehow, he'd find a way to make that chick. And when he did, she'd be sorry.
Margot threw the damp rag she had wiped her face with onto the make-up table in her room and slammed the door shut. Christ, was she tired. That Phil Daniels sure was a hard guy to please, and a HARD GUY. Well, she got her kicks out of it, anyway. That Mexican sure had a long dong. Maybe sometime when she felt like having some dark meat, she'd give him a ring.
She turned the lights on to the make-up mirror and looked at herself. Margot, darling, you are one fucking great-looking chick, she told herself. And who would ever guess what was really behind it all…
Margot reached for her pack of cigarettes and lit one, then opened a drawer to her make-up table and pulled out her wallet. She flipped through her identification cards and stopped at one. It was a picture of a real swishy- looking guy. What was his name… Harold, yeah. Some of the looks were still there, she remarked silently, examining the face in the mirror and the one in the photograph. Who would know that that faggy guy Harold was none other than… Margot Jordon. Yes sir, Dr. Hamilton had done a mighty fine job on her – or him, whatever you wanted to call it. Poor, poor little Harold. He was a no-good faint to begin with. Now he had nothing to worry about because he was sexy, famous model Margot Jordon, whose pictures in Playpen magazine were the ones most horny men beat their meat over. Margot spread her legs and felt for the scars by her crotch. Yep, you couldn't tell that they had removed his/her balls and cock. Her legs were nice and smooth. She smoothed her hands over her tits. Firm. Silicone did WONDERS! There was one small regret that she had concerning the operation – she couldn't cum. Since she wasn't really a girl, she didn't have a clit, and without one of those, what was a poor girl to do?
Margot snapped the wallet shut and threw it back into the drawer. Oh, well, except for her not being able to cum, she could still fuck any guy she wanted to, not just the other fruity guys she/he used to meet in bars and had to make do with. Guys like Phil Daniels. Oh, she'd heard some pretty wild stories about him being ALL cock. Well, tonight she'd find out how true that was. Trouble was, it got her a little worried whether he'd be able to fit all that prick into her small pussy, since it was only an artificial one. She had to take her chances…
There was a knock at the door. 'Margot, can I come in?'
SHIT! It was that Gregg Connelly again. Why couldn't he just go fuck off! 'I'm going to leave in a minute,' she said under her breath.
'It'll just be a minute,' he told her.
You son-of-a-bitch! 'All right, but just a minute. Phil's waiting for me,' she said calmly. She opened the door and let him in. He had a cool look on his face. 'Well…'
'Listen, Margot,' he began, nervously. 'I… I want to have dinner with you tomorrow night. If that's all right with you…'
She grinned. 'Will you be pulling on it under the table, and I don't mean my knee.'
'Aww, come on, Margot, that's not fair…' he said.
'What makes you think I'd want to have dinner with you?' she said.
'Well, I just thought if you didn't have anything better to do…' he said shyly.
'Well, I DO have better things to do and they don't include YOU!' she turned away from him and touched up her make-up, looking into the mirror.
'It's Phil Daniels, isn't it?' he said angrily.
'What if it is?' she said.
'Margot, he's nothing but a…'
'Tsk, tsk, I do detect jealousy. What's the matter, Gregg, afraid of the competition?' She smoothed some powder over her face to cover the stickiness from the Mexican's cum.
'You little bitch…' he snapped.
'Listen, buddy, if you came in here to start some trouble, then you can pick your ass up and get the hell out!'
'Hey,' Phil Daniels said, stepping into the room. 'Is something going on in here?'
'Get rid of him, Phil,' she said, 'will you? He's bothering me.'
'Okay, Connelly, what's the problem?' Phil demanded. 'Lay off of her and get out.'
Gregg flashed her a dirty look. 'I was just leaving.' He stormed out of the dressing room.
'What was that all about?' Phil asked. 'Nothing. Who cares? Let's get going,' she laughed, pressing her hand against Phil's crotch.
'I'm STARVING!'
CHAPTER FOUR
Jacqueline Spaulding lay luxuriously across a king-sized bed holding a vibrator between her legs. Her hair was fanned across the satin black sheets, the blondeness so white that it looked sexy, contrasting with her tanned complexion. She lay with her eyes closed, picturing a tall, red-haired man lying on top of her and shoving an enormous cock into her seething hot snatch. Jacqueline loved her fantasies. It was the only thing that held her marriage to Mark together.
She pushed Mark out of her mind immediately when he did cross her thoughts. That no-good son-of-a-bitch could take his magazine and shove it up his up-tight ass! All he ever thought about was those broads who worked there and how much pussy he could juggle at one time. She knew all about her super-stud husband and his reputation at the office. Shit, executive vice-president, my ass! she thought. She'd taken a ride over to that place and saw what it was like the porno capital of the world. Those models, fucking their way into the cheap glossy pages of that skuzzy magazine. Mark brought a few issues home sometimes, and when Jacqueline got a good look at the prime-meat those studs were flashing around and sticking into every opening they could… hell, her cunt was just dripping wet.
That's who she was thinking of. That red-haired guy with the fuzzy, muscular body and a prick that could pole-vault him into the World Olympics. She pictured him grinding into her gash and ripping her hot cunt apart, drip by drip. Jackie rotated the vibrator around her stiff clit, feeling that button of delight humming along.
'Pound it into me, lover!' she screamed, pretending the red-haired guy was climbing all over her and pushing his tool into her wet slit. She groped through empty air, thinking it to be his fuzzy ass, moving up and down, bringing his dick way up into her tight muff. 'Dig into that box… ohhh… it's so long… so hard… you're driving me up the wall. Shoot your load into me… your cock really plugs up that hole good, keep going.'
She moved her hips to an imaginary thrust of that big, juicy dick. It was poking holes through the walls inside her snatch. There was just so far a joint could go into a cunt, and after that, it was UP to YOU.
The juice icky-goo in her cunt was dribbling down her inner thighs and making wet stains on the bed sheets. But she wasn't thinking about them now. It was Jason (she had decided that was a good name for her red-headed fucker) jacking his thick prick into her twat. Jackie had dyed her pussy hair silver-white, like her own hair, and had
