Part 81
Posted by Barbanne on May 07, 2003 at 23:29:33:
PART EIGHTY ONE
THE HITCH HIKING RECEPTIONIST
Bent backwards over Alex's lap.
Naked except for my low slung jeans and they were unzipped and pulled down to just above my knees. My head hung back and my neck was vulnerable and exposed. My eyes were closed, heavily mascaraed lashes lying on my freckled cheeks. My mouth gaped open displaying my fillings and my breasts were splayed and tilting back toward my shoulders with the gentle pull of gravity. My arms had flopped back when I went limp, one hanging more or less straight and the other crooked at the elbow, my fingers curled as though in the laxity of death. I was playing a hitchhiker picked up by an opportunist killer, played by Alex, and he had strangled me and stripped me to this stage of helpless semi nudity. I had developed a very light tan from being out on location somewhat recently (that's why my freckles were back) and Alex's hands roamed over my honey brown skin. He fondled my breasts and thumbed my upright, springy nipples and then stroked the lean, flat curve of my tummy and then his right hand slid over my freshly shaven mons and rested on top of it, his fingers just feathering my wet labia. I was tingling around my nipples and light headed with arousal and my tummy was on fire and my cunt ached hotly and wetly for him. I wished he would finger me properly. Thorough gentleman that he always was, he only rested his hand on my outer mound and I used my imagination to create the thrill of his fingers entering my wet and willing woman's slit and finding and stroking my highly excited clitoris.
All too soon it was over and I was returned to upright and to my clothes and to normality.
I still didn't know if I wanted to model much or not but Alex told me that my fantasy urges made me quite good at it and he confided in me that my sets alway sold very well because my real love for what I was doing totally came through.
Mostly however I was the receptionist.
Sitting behind our front counter and puzzling over the cryptic crossword, dressed very casually in either jeans and a top or one of my comfortable mini dresses, spectacles perched on my nose and hair usually not quite combed and a bit unkempt. Trainers on my feet to help correct my fallen arches which have pestered me from childhood.
Spying on all of the other girls and helping out where possible.
Despite my own dreadful upbringing and the troubles it has caused me I love helping other people and will always lend a sympathetic ear to any and everyone.
Today I was chatting with Deidre.
She had just died in a particularly horrible fashion, a jungle maiden skewered through her oopsie with a long sharp stick wielded by Larry.
Deidre and I shared a similar history of a mixed and unexciting record of employment involving waitressing (a lot) and sales assistant's work and fringe stuff like Playdead. Deidre's problem was her weight. She was chubby. Mine had been skinniness.
I explained to Deidre the attractions of having curves.
"I know the fashion is for anorexic teeny looking girls Deidre but a girl like you who is a real woman, Reubenesque, is the sort guys really like believe me. I mean why settle for a bag of bones when you can have some flesh to grab hold of?"
"But you're always so thin Barb."
"I'm borderline anorexic and its got nothing to do with fashion and a lot to do with shitty eating habits and loads of self hatred, which, I might add, I hope is behind me."
"I'm fat Barb," she wailed.
"Nope, sexily fleshy. Here come into the studio."
She did.
I stood her in front of the mirror.
"Now, strip off and let me show you how your body breathes sexiness."
She started giggling but she did strip and I pointed out the cuteness value of junctions and curves and bulges and dimples and all that makes a well fleshed female the real McCoy. I got her to lie on the bed as she did when playing dead and then used a hand held mirror to show her how her body naturally folded and reclined into yumminess.
When I'd finished she got dressed and we went back outside and she grinned broadly and said, "Barb, you're all bullshit but your half convincing and you've made me feel heaps better.
"Way to go girl," I said.
She left laughing just as Alex came in.
"Well she's happy. Your doing Barb?"
"A bit, but mostly just explained her own good points to her."
"That's you. Little Miss something to say on every topic known to mankind."
"Yup!"
He went upstairs and I returned to the crossword.
Inside the studio Jade was committing suicide.
Dave was filming.
I scooted my chair over to where I could watch both the front door and what was happening inside.
Since the thing with Damian the change in Jade was amazing. She still had a slightly vulpine look but now she was genuinely pretty. Her personal habits were great, she always looked clean and smelt nice, her red hair was always washed and clean and shining with health and well kept and smelt of soap and stuff and her mouth was kissable and all in all she was a changed girl. She still had slight bags under her eyes but then don't we all. Today she was naked except for a panty thong and she gave a small speech about wanting to end it all and then gulped down a glass of poisoned cola.
I sort of cringed a bit when she said her lines because I knew how close to the truth some of it was, but if Jade felt any misgivings she hid them well and played it like a pro.
She sat on our lounge and started laughing at the futility of her (pretend) life and then she spasmed and grabbed her throat and fell back and kicked out, stabbing the air with her legs and then she thrashed and made chokey noises like, "Unh, unh, unh, unh!" and then her hands pummelled the lounge and she cried like, "Oh, oh, oh, oh," and she kicked and thrashed some more and then her whole face twisted into a rictus and she fell back and clawed at her breasts and then she kicked again, splaying her legs out and then she spasmed like wow! Her back arched as she bowed upward, resting only on her heels and the back of her head and her spine and cartiledges crackled and popped or would when we added sound effects and then she looked so, so woebegone and then she subsided and thrashed again and then it was over and she relaxed, dead as a doornail.
I felt like clapping.
What a performance!
What a girl!
My protege Jade. Wow!
Larry came in and found her.
"Hah," he said, "my woman just the way I like women to be...................DEAD!"
Then he lifted her limp corpse and took her off for fucking. (Not shown, we were not as Alex keeps telling me, a porn site)
When she had finished I took a quick check that no-one was coming and then went and put my arm around Jade's bare shoulders.
"You OK Jade?"
"Sure Barb."
"You're not just saying that? That was intense stuff."
"Oh I can handle that Barb. Yeah I'm alright now. Thanks in no small part to you."
"Hey I didn't do much."
"You did for me," and she kissed me quick and sweet and dashed off to the change room.
I looked up to see Alex looking at me. He had seen Jade kiss me, but had he seen what went before or was I in the poo again for seducing young girls.
Oh well, I went back to my desk.
I found I could do most everything I had to with time to spare and so, as I was leaving the writing and generating of ideas to others and only modelling very occasionally, I started to become the gossip centre for Playdead.
I talked to the girls about their sex lives, sort of conducting my own mini poll. Girls, I discovered, were quite willing to discuss their love lives in some detail. What I learned was rather interesting.
Most of us had had our first go somewhere between the ages of sixteen and eighteen. First invited encounter that is. For the likes of me and Jade our starts into sex life had been less than ideal.
I found for instance that lots of the girls had either difficulty or displeasure with sex as an act. About half of them told me there were often long periods when they lost interest in it altogether. About thirty percent admitted to not having orgasms and about one in four confessed to not enjoying it at all or experiencing pain during the act itself.
Hmmmmmm.
I was surprised, although maybe I shouldn't have been, to find that about one in five had been subjected to unwanted sexual acts as adults.
Very few girls confessed to having tried lesbian sex and almost none admitted to DIY solitary sex but I'm sure that was not truly reported.
I mulled over these facts.
Hey, maybe I could become a researcher!
Maybe not.
Back to my reception desk.