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I had a predilection toward masturbating—a.k.a. playing with my cooter—before any hellified dick action came into play. And hellified dick Orpheus truly possessed. We had been having our secret rendezvous in various five-star hotels throughout the city for at least two years. We really needed to control ourselves, but we had made numerous attempts and had failed miserably.
Once I was sure the coast was clear, and that Shane had left on the elevator headed to the lobby with the last of my employees, I shut and locked my office door. Then I sat down at my desk, opened my bottom right drawer that had a small safe built in, scrolled in the code, and pulled up the lid. There he was—King Midas—and he definitely had “the touch.” I lifted him up and eyed him with admiration . . . all nine inches of him.
I swiveled my chair to the right, propped my left ankle up on the corner of my desk, used my free hand to push my black lace panties to the side, and slid my king into my pussy, inch by motherfucking inch. When he was positioned inside my sugary walls, all nice and lovely, I turned him onto his lowest setting, threw my head back, closed my eyes, and began my conscious wet dream.
I imagined being on a movie set—a kitchen setting—and having dozens of crew members surrounding me as I stood there while the makeup team, hairstylist, and wardrobe guy had their “last looks” before the cameras went up. I was dressed in a skimpy white dress that showed off all of my curves that I spent six hours a week in the gym making sure everything was tight, especially my tits and ass. The interesting thing was that in my fantasy everyone but me was naked, from the director sitting in video village ready to shout “Action” to the electrical grip with the dark eyes, curly brown hair, and elephantine dick at full erection.
Then Orpheus walked onto the set wearing a robe and a pair of slippers. His height, coupled with his bald head and overall fineness, had all of the women ready to have explosive orgasms from the mere sight of him. I had to control myself, both in my fantasy and in the real world—I didn’t want to come so quickly. I wanted to savor the moment, so I pulled King Midas out a couple of inches and started twirling him around inside of me. My pussy was drenched by this point and I was thinking that I should have placed a towel down first, like I usually did when I got myself off in the office.
Orpheus dropped his robe, and his remarkable dick could have made the throes of a hurricane seem like Shangri-La. His dick was an astonishing sight, and I took it all in as I dropped to my knees and commenced sucking it into my mouth.
Orpheus moaned as the director yelled out, “Wait! Hold up! We’re not filming yet, Eurydice!”
Orpheus chuckled, grabbed me by my left ear, and carefully pulled my head away from his dick. “
Don’t worry. I’m going to let you roll your tongue all over this before the night is through.”
I stood up and started taking off my dress. I was now the only one with clothes still on and I was ready to get buck naked and buck wild.
I glanced over at the director, who was licking his lips at the sight of my protruding nipples. “So how do you want this to go down?” I asked. “You want us to fuck on the table or the counter?”
The director grinned. I would state his name, but the only two people in my fantasies that ever had actual names were Orpheus and me—Eurydice.
“I say we go for both,” he responded. “Table first, nice and slow, and Orpheus can lift you up, place you on the counter by the sink, and bang you out real good.”
Orpheus took me by the chin and redirected my eyes to his. “Does that work for you, baby?”
“Oh yes!” I exclaimed. “I want you to bang me out like this is the last piece of pussy you’ll ever get in your natural life.”
We stood there, eyeing each other like two boxers about to go for round one in the ring.
“Cameras up!” the director said as a young, naked woman with red hair slated both of them.
“Scene 1.12, take Alpha,” she said in front of each before clapping the slate shut.
“And action!” the director yelled out.
Orpheus started reciting his lines right on cue. He took my left hand and raised it to his lips, placing a gentle peck on it. Due to his height, the head of his dick was poking me in the space between my breasts as he said, “I was thinking about you all day at the office.”
“Really?” I blushed. “And what were you thinking . . . exactly?”
“I imagined coming home from a long day, walking into the kitchen, and finding you slaving over a hot stove naked.”
“Some imagination.” I giggled and turned my back to him, stirring the pot of whatever the prop master had simmering on the lowest setting on the stove. “Did you also imagine yourself walking into the kitchen naked?”
Orpheus grabbed my waist from behind with one hand and ran his fingers through my shoulder-length hair with the other. “I’m improvising,” he whispered. “Why don’t you turn that off so we can spend some quality time together before dinner?”
“But I spent all day making your favorite dish,” I lied. “It might not taste the same if I turn it off and then reheat it.”
Orpheus reached around me and turned the stove off. “It might not taste the same, but I’ll tell you what always does taste the same, and it’s mighty delicious.”
I blushed again. “Let me guess. You’re talking about my poontang?”
“Uh-huh, damn right!”
“Well, I try to keep it juicy and sweet for you, baby.” I turned around and looked up at him. His dick was still rock hard. I grabbed onto it with a cupped hand and started giving him a hand job. With my other hand, I reached underneath and rubbed his balls. They were engorged. “You need to let me do something about these, on the real. It’s not healthy for a man’s man to have such a buildup.”
“What do you have in mind?” Orpheus took a few steps back, leading me by his dick toward the large oak table in the middle of the set. “I could stand to relieve a little stress.”
