George and Koko finished the night with champagne, blow jobs, cunnilingus, and blow jobs … in about that order, as best as his hangover would let him remember. Once she’d licked and swallowed the last of his jizz from her lips, Koko Latte turned to him and was abruptly all business – like turning off a light switch, she’d transformed herself from a raging nymphomaniac to a ball-busting business woman. "Be at the studio at eight, sharp," she said, an order not a statement. She had wrapped her body in a long, heavy robe by now. George felt some of the fire leave his muscles as she looked at him. A kind of sternness had taken hold of her features. The lines of her face grew harder, her chin firmer, and through the calculating look of her eyes he could see just that her brain was formulating the details of next day’s work schedule. "The crew will be waiting for you. They won’t know you, but they are used to my finding strays and dragging them in for a shoot. Be ready to work … and by that I mean, that monster meat stick of yours had better be standing at attention when I get there," she said. So, rather obediently, he left her office around ten in the evening, still reeling a little from the booze, found a cab to take him home to his apartment, and promptly crashed on his sofa. The next morning, George Wall woke right at six … as he always did, without the use of an alarm clock. His head hurt, of course. (So did is cock and nuts. The night before, Koko had been like an out of control vacuum cleaner the way she latched onto his meat and kept him erect and gushing ever surprising waves of sperm.) At eight a.m. on the dot, he delivered himself at her movie studio, which oddly enough was called Koko’s Circus. The name was slashed across the door in bold colorful paints. The building was in fact an abandoned furniture store right smack in the middle of the old downtown. It was a half a city block long, with an entire wall of windows soaped and screened from the bottom up to about ten inches from the ceiling. So that’s what happens behind those whited out windows, he thought. Next door to Koko’s Circus was a pharmacy where dozens of wrinkled, white haired ladies wearing thick orthopedic shoes with walkers hobbled in and out for their meds. Across the street was a hair salon in a rundown building … and very few customers as best as George could tell … and an Indian deli takeout. "I wonder if they have any idea what kind of crazy shit is going on next door?" he thought. He walked in. His head ached, but the coffee in his hands would soon cure that. Lots of natural light filled the interior, which was partitioned into numerous cube-like "sets" that appeared to feature nothing more than a couch, chair, tables or desks, and a fake plant or two. In a sort of glassed in conference room George found a tall beanpole of a kid of maybe eighteen or nineteen, still a little pimply with peach fuzz whiskers, tinkering with a large digital video camera mounted on a tripod. He looked up as he heard George enter the studio. "Who are you?" the kid asked, in a simple friendly voice – not hostile or confrontational in any way. "You Koko’s latest find?" "I think so … at least, I was as of ten p.m. last night," said George and he introduced himself. "I’m Gino," said the beanpole with a friendly handshake. "I just shoot this stuff, I don’t partake." Gino looked as though his ancestry might be Asian. Definitely of some mixed blood. "Why not?" George wondered how anyone could film a porno without getting into the action, at least occasionally. "Somebody has to make sure this stuff gets on film," said Gino. "Besides, I’m happily married and my wife would kill me if I did." Married?, wondered George. Yes, there was a ring on the kid’s ring finger. "Gino, you from the hills or something? You’re too young to be married." "No he isn’t," said a woman’s voice behind him. When George turned he met a short, blonde, slightly chubby woman in hip-hugging blue jeans and a pink tank top. The tank top stretched over her small breasts, and on the shirt was this slogan: B.I.T.C.H. Babe In Total Control of Herself. She was maybe twenty-four or –five, and she exuded self-confidence. "He’s my husband, and he’s not from the hills, and if Gino so much as fingers a pussy other than mine, I will personally bite off his testicles. My name is Ruth," she said. She held out her hands, and they shook. George liked her immediately. "Koko send me here – she told me to be here ready to start work at eight sharp." "Well you follow directions, so that’s already a good sign," said Ruth. "Ever shoot a porno before?" "Nope." "It’ll grow on you," she said, sardonically. "Now strip." For a moment, George hadn’t believed his ears. A few beats passed before he said, "What was that?" Ruth gave a mischievous grin, like a cat that had cornered its mouse and had decided to toy and tease it before going in for the kill. "You’re here to make a porno, aren’t you? You don’t expect to make it with your clothes on or … do you? George said, "That would be an innovative kink of kinkiness – guys who fuck while remaining fully clothed. But how would I get your my out?" Ruth then laughed a full and deeply genuine laugh, the type that comes from deep inside and is very sincere, and her stubby chubby body rolled in time with her laughter. She said. "I’m just pulling your chain. I wanted to see if you could take a joke. And I’m glad to see you don’t take what I’m saying too seriously. But really, you do have to take off your clothes. I have to shave your body." "Oh." She laughed again. "The look on your face is priceless. Over there, in the dressing room behind the hospital set," Ruth pointed toward the back. "That’s our largest dressing room and that’s where I do all the shaving." "You mean, you’re going to shave me personally?" "You bet. All the hair off your body, except for what’s on your head … unless you want to do a bald thing?" said Ruth. "I’m not old enough or balding enough to have to do a Bruce Willis, Ruth. But thanks. " About to head in the direction Ruth indicated, George winked. "I’ll be waiting for you… naked as a jay bird." The dressing room was large, and comfortably furnished. A large table similar to the type used in massage parlors occupied dominated the room. A table with bottles and jars and various towels and razors was nearby. George stripped, sat on the luxurious sofa that was pushed against a wall, and finished his coffee. As he was tossing the empty cup into the trash, Ruth walked in. He stood. "Ready when you are, " he said. Ruth studied his crotch with a professional’s eye. "You are well hung," she said. "Bet those balls of your’s are big too, huh? Well, you’re going to show well on camera once I get all that hair off you. Stretch out on the table, face down. We’ll do your chest and scrotum last. I want to work on your back and butt first." George did as he was told, and Ruth quickly got to work rubbing lotions across his body. "We take it all off, even from your legs and back," she said. "I look at porno’s as a kind of ballet. Everything has to be perfectly choreographed." She rubbed the cool lotions down his legs. "Back in the old days, it was all hairy and all very natural. But these days, the dirty old men who jerk off to our movies like to see our stars buffed and polished and shiny, like a new toy." George could feel his skin tingling where the lotions were being rubbed. "We use depilatories on most of your body, but not your balls. I don’t want the tissue to redden or get a rash," said Ruth. Ruth worked quickly, expertly. George felt the towels wiping the hair from his legs, back, buttocks. "Roll over sweetie," she said. He did, and she worked his chest and shoulders. Then she took out shaving cream and a disposal razor and started on his crotch. In spite of his best efforts, he found this experience slightly erotic. Blood started to flow into his cock. It started to stiffen. In a mocking deep voice, Ruth said, "Stand down, soldier." But even after she said this, she sprayed shaving foam into her hand and slowly, tenderly stroked his penis with her foam filled palm. Consequently, George found he couldn’t control himself. His pole began to stiffen and stand erect. She kept stroking him. "Nice cock," she said. Her voice was husky with emotion and admiration for the stature of his lengthening member. She kept stroking with her left hand, and with her right she started palming his balls, rubbing his scrotum and forcing more of his lifeblood forward into his nearly complete erection. "This is something Koko would like. But Monica’s going to have pull herself together in order to deal with this monster," she said. "Monica keeps thinking she’s small down there … she’s not. I’m small, and for me this would be a tight fit." Her voice drew huskier, her breath harder and forced as she tried to control her panting excitement. "This would be a really tight fit … but I could handle you." Then she took her eyes off of his erection and looked at him directly. Her smile was genuine. "You wait and see," she said, and then winked. George swallowed hard. His throat was suddenly parched. This woman’s hands were a miracle of manipulation and tenderness. He could feel his heart racing. His head was beginning to pound – not just from the hangover, which was diminishing now anyhow -- but as a result of the erotic sensations Ruth’s hands were producing. Then she stopped, and he could feel his blood pull back, and his heart slow. "But not today," she said. Ruth picked up the disposable razor. "Maybe when we’re done. Right now, we have work to do, and if I were to cause you to cum now, before Koko got her money shot out of you, it would be my ass in a sling, and that I can’t afford." Ruth started to gently slide the razor over his scrotum. "Today, we’re all business." George suddenly realized he’d been holding his breath, and abruptly he exhaled loudly and long. "Wow, you almost had me ready to go," he said, and then started to laugh. "So how is it you can nearly jack me off but you won’t let Kid Gino lick anybody’s else’s pussy?" She smiled her sardonic smile again. "I am in control of that boy. Every bit of him. And he knows it. He’s my slave," she said. "I’d like to make you my other slave, but I know Koko." She finished wiping his balls. "You’re a part of her harem," she said. "We’re done now. Your balls are good and big, to match your cock. You’ll be a big hit on camera, I can tell. Now put on a robe, and I’ll start the make-up next." Ruth was all business again and started applying a base that matched his skin. But all the while, George kept her promise in the back of his mind: "Not today ... maybe when we're done." He was looking forward to that day. This story was taken from one these sites, check them out to find more sex stories: https://freecamgirls.name/the-nude-cam https://sexcams.name/live-teen-sex https://livecamsites.me/live-sex-chat-2 https://livecamsites.me/category/couples-cams https://freesexcams.name/sex-cam-live https://freelivesexcams.me/free-adult-cam-2 https://freecamgirls.name/lesbian-live-cam-2 https://camgirlsites.net/bbw-sex-cam https://webcamgirls.name/asian-live-cam https://freesexcams.name/latina-sex-cam