Wannabe Actress Sees Herself Auditioning Dozens of Hunky Guys

What I want more than anything is to be able to earn a living as an actress. I’m trying, believe me, but as I quickly discovered when I arrived in New York and stared making the rounds of casting agents and going on auditions, the competition for parts, even tiny ones, is downright mind boggling. Does every waitress want to be an actress?

My main problem is that I never have quite enough courage to do the things I really want to do. I go halfway. Take my acting, for instance— I join these little groups and then end up painting sets or sewing costumes. Same with men— I never go after the ones who really turn me on instead, I stick with men who are harmless and devoted. But my fantasies are another story! My favorite scenario I call The Audition, and I think of it whenever I want to turn myself on. In it, I am an all powerful figure— bold, arrogant, slightly cruel and hard to please.

It begins with dozens of men being sent up to audition for me. I am reclining on a couch, languidly watching them go through their paces. The purpose? To see who will have the immense good fortune to be my bed partner that night! A male secretary waits in the wings to usher in each new candidate. I dismiss one after another with a curt “Next!”

Finally, in comes an adorable— and very nervous— creature. I let him wait while I jot down a few brief impressions. This gorgeous man is dressed in very tight bleached out blue jeans and a soft white shirt unbuttoned a little so I can see the caramel smooth skin of his chest. He has tiny hips and a lovely small ass outlined perfectly by the thin material of his jeans.

I ask him to turn around, appreciating the play of muscles in his ropy thighs as he pivots slowly, and then tell him to recite his vital statistics, including the size of his cock. This makes him blush, but I am very businesslike. I order him to strip slowly. By the time he’s down to his tiny white briefs, I have to admit he’s perfect. As he’s beginning to peel them down, I call out sharply, “I want you to lower them very slowly. Try to excite me— think about what you’re doing.”

He hooks his thumbs in the briefs, inclining his pelvis slightly, rocking it in small, undulating movements and teasing the material down a millimeter at a time. First I get a glimpse of his curly blond pubic hair, then a tantalizing view of the beginnings of his cock. His briefs fall to the floor of my office. He slips his hands down and allows his strong, tapering fingers to caress the outer edges of his tense thighs, cupping his hands to emphasize and frame the swelling bulge.

“Nice, very nice,” I say professionally. “Before you show me what you’ve got, tell me what you’ll do to me if you’re chosen.” Stammering, he tells me how much he wants to make love to me, to lick me from my toes to the nape of my neck and everywhere in between. He bites his bottom lip.

Finally, he pulls the briefs all the way down and his cock catapults out, fully erect and straining toward me, and sort of . . . pleading. I can see a pulse beating in his groin as he stands before me, supporting his long thick cock in his fist. A small groan escapes his lips and it looks to me as if his knees will buckle if I don’t do something quick.

“All right,” I say briskly. “You’ve been selected. Be back at nine o’clock tonight.” Then he’s taken off to a recovery room until his erection subsides.

In this scenario, I remain cool and collected, but the real me— the one imagining all this— is almost at the brink of climax just fantasizing about it!

Shirley V., New York

Reveling in Pleasure at a Gathering of Worldly Sensualists

I’ve never been to an orgy, and the thought of going to one makes me nervous. But sometimes, when I’m really horny, I fantasize about attending a wild sex party. I never fail to have an explosive orgasm when I do this.

In my fantasy I enter a darkened room, wearing only a silky see through robe. I feel extremely voluptuous, and the sound of sensuous music wraps itself around me. In the flickering light of a few candles, I begin to make out several low couches with figures on them.

On one nearby couch a handsome, muscular man is kneeling between the legs of a woman. He leans down and sucks on one of her nipples as he slides his cock in and out of her pussy. I gasp as I watch his enormous cock slip in and out. The woman moans with pleasure, wraps her legs around his body and runs her wet tongue over her swollen pouting lips.

A tall, thin man walks over to her and rubs his erection against her mouth. She takes it between her palms and then licks the tip rapidly with her tongue, then nibbles at it, and finally sucks the head into her mouth. The thin man and the muscular man stick fingers in each other’s asshole and groan.

My pussy gets warm and juicy as I watch this incredible scene. Just as I start to look around for someone to join, I feel arms close around me from behind. Two large hands pull my robe open, then palms rub over my nipples. I lift up my ass and rub it against a hard cock behind me. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?” a deep voice whispers in my ear, as the hands begin to tweak and pull my nipples. In reply, I rub my body harder against the stranger’s and reach around behind me to stroke his smooth, hot cock. He leans down and buries his face in my neck, licking me slowly as he continues to toy with my nipples.

A gorgeous woman with large, firm breasts walks up and rubs her nipples against the backs of my partner’s fingers. She leans forward, takes my head between her hands, and kisses me on the lips, dipping her satiny tongue deep in my mouth. I’ve never kissed a woman before, and I’m surprised to find that it is incredibly sensual. Her lips are meltingly soft and we suck on each other’s tongues. I reach out with one hand to pull her lush body close, continuing to rub and squeeze the big hard cock behind me with my other hand. The woman grinds her pussy against mine and the three of us rub our bodies together, sucking and kissing and stroking faster.

We stumble to a nearby couch and I get on my hands and knees. The man rubs his hands all over my ass while the woman gets on her back, slides her head under me and tongues my nipples. “Oh, sweet,” I moan, and lean down to take her breasts in my mouth while I feel the man behind me push his cock into my eager pussy. He slides it in and out and reaches around with one hand to stroke my clit. As the three of us suck and fuck each other, a man with a long fat cock comes up to the woman beneath me. She opens her legs wide and squeals and bites my nipples as he enters her dripping pussy.

The man behind me drives his cock in and out of me faster and faster and rubs my clit harder while the woman beneath me sucks one of my tits and kneads and squeezes the other one.

“I’m coming,” I hear myself say in a choked voice. I feel the man behind me swell even bigger and then we both start to contract at the same time. Wave after wave of ecstasy sweeps over me, and I bury my head in the woman’s breasts and suck them like mad as she cries out, “Oh, fuck me, suck me.”

We pant and moan as the men burst inside us and we milk their cocks with our grasping vaginas. We all finally fall apart, momentarily spent, until the sights, sounds and smells of the orgy arouse us again.

Anne E., Utah

Five Doctors Examine the Erogenous Zones of a Pretty Nurse

The medical profession has always fascinated me, so much that at an early age I decided I wanted to study nursing. Today I work at a large metropolitan hospital and enjoy it immensely.

I am active sexually and have had satisfying affairs with a number of attractive men, some of them doctors. When I’m not seeing someone regularly, I enjoy masturbation with my favorite fantasy, which, as you might have guessed, centers around a hospital and doctors.

I like to begin by imagining that I’m in a patient’s room when five good looking doctors come in on morning rounds. They complete their business with the patient, but one of them keeps looking at me curiously. He whispers something to the other and I hear one of them say, “Yes, I think she’d do very well.” I follow them down a corridor to a lecture room where students are sitting. The doctors mound a small platform, positioning me in a special chair.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the head doctor begins, “today we are going to study the erogenous zones of the female human body. Pamela has kindly agreed to let us use her body for this purpose.”

One of the doctors unbuttons my dress and removes my bra. He is holding a long pointed, and he begins to point at my breasts as he lectures about erectile tissue.

“The subject’s nipples are extremely sensitive,” he says. “Note how they rise and stiffen up when the pointer touches them.” All the time he is lightly caressing my nipples with the end of the pointer, flicking and circling. The sensations are maddening— it feels good but it’s not enough. I want to have him squeeze my breasts and suck the nipples until they are bursting. No sooner have I thought this than one of the doctors leans over and begins to lick my breasts all over in rapid, darting motions. At last he sucks deeply on each in turn.

“Notice the subject’s rapid breathing,” says the lecturer. “Her nipples are pulsing pleasurably and she feels a similar stirring deep in her vagina.”

Another doctor pulls my dress down further, trailing his fingers over my quivering belly.

“Small muscles are contracting and tightening in the subject’s abdomen,” explains the lecturer, using his pointer. While yet another doctor pulls my thighs wide apart, the pointer wanders down to my crotch, teasing and tracing little patterns over my clit through the cloth of my panties. “You will observe that our subject’s panties are soaking,” he continues.

From this moment on, the doctor’s language turns very earthy— not at all scientific— because he is getting excited, too. His pointer trembles.

“When I strip her panties down and rub her pussy with my long, strong fingers, you’ll be able to hear her begging for it,” he says. While another doctor massages my belly with the heels of his hands (something I love), the head doctor kneels down in front of me, still talking. “Look how she reacts as all five of us go to work on her at once,” he says.

One is still sucking my nipples, another is tickling my pubic bone and scratching my belly, a third has somehow discovered a hole in the seat of my chair and has inserted his thumb very gently in my anus, and the head doctor is now licking my clit and thrusting his tongue deep into me with wet, strong, spiraling motions. The fifth doctor is holding a microphone to my lips, and my moans and cries can be heard all through the amphitheater.

At last, the doctor who is eating me unzips his white pants and with barely a break in his stride shoves his big, stiff cock into me, moving it in lazy circles and then ramming it in. As I begin to come, I cry into the microphone that it’s the best I’ve ever had. All the students rise up applauding as I begin to climax publicly.

Pamela Z., California

Pampered Wife Yearns for a Desperate, Hot Affair with a Burly Truck Driver

I am 29 years old and married to a very successful pediatrician. We live very comfortably in a beautiful house in the suburbs and we each have our own Mercedes. Fashionably attired, I make quite an impression when attending dinner parties and the like with my husband.

I wanted the life that I have now, but sometimes I feel so bored and static I could die. I’m such a perfect wife you wouldn’t believe it! Although my sex life with George is more than satisfactory, I can’t help feeling that I’m missing something. The element of surprise— the wild, uncontrollable excitement I used to experience with men before my marriage— is gone. What I fantasize about all the time is a hot, dirty, desperate affair with a construction worker or a truck driver. No more perfect linen suits and carefully streaked hair. No more glib, sophisticated repartee with my husband in bed at the end of the evening.

I yearn for a man who’d buy me sleazy bras with cut out nipples and make me wear old fashioned stockings with garter belts so he could get to me quicker! My dream lover is always big and burly with rough, callused hands that make me shiver when he caresses my smooth, pampered flesh. He’s clean, with a lovely sweat and tobacco smell, and he calls me “doll” and “babe.” He likes me to wear spike heels and tight, thin sweaters that outline my breasts.

We meet at some dingy trucker’s bar where we drink beer, sitting in a booth, and he plays with me under the table. Those rough hands slide up my thighs and I open my legs for him. A jukebox is playing loudly and the noise covers my moaning. He’s so expert at exciting me, drinking beer the whole time and pretending nothing’s going on. He keeps whispering about how hot he is and how good and wet I feel inside. We can hardly walk to the lot where his truck is parked.

The lot is deserted and filled with rubble. We hurry to the far side of the truck, where nobody can see us. He braces himself against the cab, unbuttoning his pants and taking out his huge, erect cock for me to admire. I spring upon him like a monkey, wrapping my legs around his hips, and he’s so strong he holds me to him, grinding away like crazy and sort of rubbing me up and down against him.

My coat flops around us as we fuck standing up. We’re both so excited we come almost immediately— he howls like an animal when he reaches orgasm and I bite the collar of his work shirt. Then we get into his truck and do it more slowly, with me sitting in his lap so he can tongue my breasts and massage my belly.

When it’s finished we say how good it was. We don’t need to say anymore. We go back to the bar, drink some more beer and make another date. He will never see me steaming vegetables I will never ask about his life. It’s strictly down and dirty sex with us— and that’s plenty!

Diedre S., New Jersey

Intimacy Files

My lover, Marc, always tells me that no woman ever turned him on the way I do. I’ve certainly experienced many first time turn ons with him. For example, he had never tickled a woman’s ass before, but we were both astonished at our pleasure when he tickled my smooth ass cheeks. Then his thick cock was deep in my vagina, his face smirked as if he were ecstatic, the tendons in his neck rose and he seemed to breathe heavy. And he’s often joked that his orgasms with me are more like pleasurable explosions.

So when Marc told me one day that a business acquaintance he’d never met was visiting from California, I certainly did not think of a sexy woman who might be another incredible “first” for us. But there she was, in a sunny caf filled with the fresh air of many plants, and she was clearly hot. She had told Marc to look for a woman with black hair and a pink dress. We didn’t have to search Bernadette was an eye catcher.

Her curly, raven tresses tumbled every which way around her pretty cheeks, hinting at passions that were similarly wild. She was wearing a furry sweaterdress, and two arcs of creamy breast swelled out over the low cut. From her tiny waist, her hips flared out dramatically. I was instantly attracted to her.

At the time, though, I had never been with a woman before and didn’t recognize my lust. I recognized Marc’s, though, by the wolfish sheen in his eye.

“So what sights can I show you?” Marc offered over steaming cappuccino. He had promised to be her personal guide on the phone.

“The museum,” Bernadette answered. “There’s a sculpture show I really want to see and for some reason it’s not coming to L.A.”

“Somebody should sculpt you,” Marc said. “IT would be magnificent.” I was tempted to throw water on his hot balls, but under the table his hand curled around mine and caressed it for reassurance.

Bernadette blushed. “I could never pose.”

“I know what you mean,” I blurted out, surprising myself. I liked it that she could wear such sexy clothes and still be shy. “Still, to deprive people of such magnificent . . . ” I stopped, also shy.

“Thank you,” she said, gracefully.

“In fact,” Marc continued, “the two of you could pose together.” We all laughed.

But I didn’t laugh that evening when I telephoned Marc to ask about the museum visit. “Bernadette is here, I’ll call you back,” he said. I hung up the receiver and stared at it.

Still, I knew from the huskiness in his voice, just as I’d known from the glint in his eye that afternoon, that he was aroused.

I called back and didn’t say hello. “What’s happening there?” I practically shouted.

“Claire, come on. Nothing’s happening, believe me.”

“I can hear her sucking you,” I said, a little crazy.

“Claire, I’m hanging up on you,” Marc said, and he did.

Well, I wandered around my apartment, imagining them together. I saw Bernadette’s gorgeous breasts, unbound in all their robust glory. I saw her straddling Marc’s strong hips, taking the tip of his curved cock into a darkness that I knew was fiery hot. I saw him tug on her hips and her lush breasts jump up and down.

I was jealous, but at the same time, my jeans tightened on my cunt. I stripped in front of my mirror and looked at my teacup breasts, and told myself they were sexy just as they are. My nipples tilted upward, long and red. I licked my fingers and closed them on my nipples and plucked, the way I’d learned to pull a raspberry off its nub. I plucked again and again, and the waves of delight began to hypnotize me. Then, I dug two fingers into my cunt and fucked myself faster and faster.

I got the dildo that Marc bought me. As I lay down on the bed, I remembered how one night while he fucked me from behind, he pushed my ass cheeks apart with my hand and slid the dildo along my ass cheeks. The fucking made me come so strongly, I thought I’d gone to heaven. I fucked the dildo harder. My deepest muscles clenched the artificial cock, my hips lurched into the air repeatedly, and I climaxed, shuddering.

A soft knock on my door woke me. I checked the clock only an hour had passed. I knew it was Marc. I wrapped a blanket around my lifeless body. The light from the hall blinded me, but I recognized Marc’s broad shoulders.

What I didn’t see was that his cock was hard and ready. He put his hands on my waist and right there in the hallway, he picked me up and sat me on his hard cock.

“Oh, you are wet,” he groaned. “You . . . feel . . . so . . . good.”

He pushed me against the wall and thrust deeper and deeper. My legs clamped his torso harder and a groan escaped my throat.

“Come, baby, come,” he said, and I did, the spasms setting him off like a firecracker. My pelvic muscles tensed and I felt the hot liquid pouring deep inside my flesh. He carried me back to my bedroom and sniffed the air. I wondered if he smelled the sex I’d had with myself. In any case, I thought, my wetness gave me away. But I said nothing about it, and neither did he. Instead, he told me about the evening.

“First of all, nothing happened. After dinner, Bernadette asked if she could see where I live. In my apartment, she asked for a drink. They sure are different in California because she sat down on the bed and took off her dress. She had on the laciest pink underthings, very shiny and fragile. I could see her nipples through the bra. I couldn’t believe anything so delicate could hold up such weight. I saw her black hair through the underpants.”

“And it was so weird, Claire, I somehow wasn’t ready to touch her that fast. And then it hit me— I wanted to watch you fucking her, maybe with that dildo I bought you. I wanted to see you put your pussy in her face and have her lick you while I stick my cock in your mouth. My imagination ran away with me. So, what do you think, Claire, what if we have sex with her together? Would you like that?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

Marc was galvanized. He shot up and spread my legs apart and knelt over me. Some women say their lovers have a surgeon’s hands I say that Marc has a surgeon’s tongue. First he thrust the tip of his tongue right into the top of my labia, sort of stirring it around my clitoris, circling it slowly, until I asked him to suck me. I put my hands down near his mouth and pressed my rounded lips out to the sides for him. The tension made me moan. He sucked on my little button and I shuddered.

“Fuck my face,” he said, and I did. Then he pulled away from me and started petting my cunt, lightly and quickly. The caressing sensation drove me to my third orgasm that evening. He didn’t stop petting, and I kept coming, over and over again, fantasizing about Bernadette’s glossy hair and underwear.

The next night the three of us went out to dinner. I wore Marc’s favorite dress, a white satin slip like thing that clung to my waist. I wanted to look my best. I wanted him to be proud of me, and I wanted Bernadette to feel our invitation to have sex was coming from both of us. Marc wore a white T shirt under a black jacket.

But Bernadette outdid us. A bustier enclosed her breasts securely, creating two glowing moons over the black horizon of the fabric. Emphasizing her tiny waist was a satin belt. But it was her pants that made me dampen mine. They were a transparent black chiffon, miles and miles of it gathered into a harem look, and if you looked closely, you could see she wore no underwear.

When we arrived at the restaurant, Bernadette kissed me on the mouth and expertly flicked her tongue over my lips. Then she did the same to Marc. I saw a little movement in his pants.

“You’re gorgeous,” I stammered, and she and Marc laughed.

“Is this a conspiracy?” Bernadette asked. So I winked at her, feeling inordinately sexually sophisticated.

Marc ordered a bottle of champagne and our conversation wandered onto kinky subjects. Right before our dinners came, Bernadette brought me to the bathroom to check out, just between us girls, if this was okay. Then we chatted and laughed as she fixed her makeup and adjusted herself in the bustier. I ached to kiss the generous breasts she so casually pushed around, though it was hard to even imagine that an hour later, she would be showing me her beautiful chest.

When we walked into Marc’s studio apartment after dinner, I saw another bottle of champagne in an ice bucket by the bed. Three tall glasses stood on a pressed linen napkin— how cavalier!

Marc opened the bottle. “To us,” he said.

“To our adventure,” I blushed. Mercifully, Marc continued to take the lead. “Undress,” he told me.

“Undress, that’s your favorite word,” I teased. I was tipsy, but still shy.

“Please, let me,” said Bernadette. She pushed me gently onto the bed and rolled the string straps of my dress down my shoulders.

“How lovely,” she murmured. I knew Marc was proud. Then her mouth was devouring my breasts. She nipped at my nipples with her teeth it was a pure and pleasing pleasure, and I loved it. She licked them she filled her mouth with cold champagne and let it trickle down them, then slurped it up.

I looked up just in time to see Marc snap open her bustier, releasing the tits we both adored, and I sank my hands into the thick flesh. Her nipples were toasty warm as I rolled them between my fingers, making her shiver. Then she dropped those majestic mountains over my face and I writhed and moaned. I knew Marc was enjoying the scene.

We all rather elaborately divested ourselves of the rest of our clothes. While we feasted on each other’s breasts, Marc tried to slip his swollen cock into my cunt, but I was so wet with excitement that he kept sliding away. Finally he shoved his way in, and with a little growl, he began to work his cock in and out. Glancing over Bernadette’s shoulder, I saw him fondling her big ass. Her cheeks were as round as her breasts.

Marc pulled Bernadette onto all fours and put a pillow under my hips. He began fucking us both, first sinking his long cock into me, then into her. Every time he entered Bernadette’s cunt, she shouted, “Yes!” I was so turned on that I put my hand between my legs. I beat my button in time to Marc’s pumping.

My back arched as I came, pushing my breasts into Bernadette. Breathless, I asked her what we should try next. “I want Marc’s cock in my mouth,” she said.

No sooner said than done. Dripping with my fluids and hers, his cock bounced like a playful animal as he crawled up the bed, straddled her face and stuck it in her mouth. I loved the sight of her bee stung lips taking him in, stretching wide to give my loved one joy. I moved down to inspect her pussy. I palmed the sumptuous flesh lips aside. Her red slit was gaping for the lack of cock.

I emptied the last of the champagne into my glass and, dipping my fingers into the cold bubbly, rubbed them around Bernadette’s cunt lips. She spread her legs even wider, encouraging me. So I twisted my finger back and forth and around, rubbing her with an insatiable hunger. Actually, we took turns fucking her, Marc and I. When it was Marc’s turn, Bernadette’s mouth was full of cock.

Our arousal was everywhere, our lovely smells salty and musky, all mixed together. I licked my tongue around her pussy to drink from her. And it was as if Marc saw me do it, because just at that moment, his body froze and he shouted. I knew he had just come in Bernadette’s mouth.

I thought about how he sucked me and copied him, enclosing Bernadette’s precious nubbin in my lips. I remembered how he licked me, and I copied it, flicking my tongue around all her little grooves and hills. Bernadette came, rubbing her cunt into my face and letting out a musical howl.

And so there it was, another incredible “first” for Marc and me our first threesome. How truly delicious it was, how satisfying. What’s in store for us next is anybody’s guess, but knowing Marc, I’m sure it won’t be long before we’re embarking on a new adventure.

Name and address withheld