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Fluffer Ch. 04

WEEKS TWO AND THREE:

For the next two weeks, our sex life was fucking amazing.

Every night she came home horny. Not just turned on, soaked. Like her body hadn't cooled off once all day. Like she was carrying the heat of the studio inside her and bringing it straight to our bed.

And every night, we had homework.

Sandy insisted we watch all the studio's titles, every franchise, every one-off, even the cheesy compilation reels. She said we had to "get up to speed." She said it with a wink, but I could tell she meant it. It wasn't just for fun. She was studying. Learning. Absorbing.

Some nights we'd be naked on the couch within ten minutes, fucking while a scene played in the background. Other nights we'd actually finish an entire movie, pausing it constantly to talk about lighting, actors, camera angles... and, of course, the way the actresses moaned when they got filled. Then we'd fuck. Or I'd eat her out while she described what it felt like to be on set, or what she imagined it would feel like to take a cock like the one on screen.

She started narrating her thoughts more. Telling me who she found hot. What positions turned her on. Which scenes made her wet during the day. Sometimes she'd climb on top of me and whisper the plot into my ear, like she was retelling it from memory, but with her soaked pussy grinding against my cock the entire time.Fluffer Ch. 04 фото

She rode me while watching Anal Step-Moms: Volume 3, and when the actress screamed out during the final cumshot, Sandy screamed with her, then gushed all over me, soaking the sheets, her thighs shaking. After that, she started watching certain scenes on her lunch break at work. Said it helped "keep her inspired."

We talked more. Fucked more. Laughed more. It was the most alive I'd seen her in years.

She wore tighter clothes. Started doing her makeup again. Wore matching lingerie under her jeans and work shirt, said it helped her stay in character when she was at the studio. Some nights she'd come home and pull off her pants to show me the lace thong underneath, already stained from how wet she'd been all day.

And I'd bury my face in it and lick her pussy, every time.

WEEK 4: MONDAY NIGHT

I was in my office finishing up an email when I heard her walk in the kitchen. I got up and went out to greet her and give her a kiss.

"What's up?" I asked.

She grabbed a La Croix out of the fridge, cracked it open, and leaned against the counter with a smile I hadn't seen in years.

"You're looking at the new acting producer."

I blinked. "What?"

"Yeah. Alice is taking a leave. Family emergency, her mom had a stroke. She flew to Atlanta this morning, and she's gonna be gone for at least a month."

"Shit. That sucks."

"It does," she nodded. "But Paul called me into his office around lunch and told me he wants me to take over while she's gone. Not just paperwork. Everything. Scheduling, scenes, crew, budgets, the whole thing."

I got up, walked over, and wrapped my arms around her. "You're running the show?"

"For now," she said, but her grin told me she liked the way that sounded.

"You're gonna kill it."

She nodded. "I think so too. So tomorrow I have to manage production on the new title. It is called Creampie Coeds. They just started shooting part eight."

"That's a real title?" I asked.

"Oh yeah. Huge following. Paul said it prints money."

We laughed, kissed, and ended up on the couch, fully clothed, just being normal and laughing and joking, watching tv. That night, we didn't fuck hard. We made love.

WEEK 4: TUESDAY NIGHT

She came home silent.

Not angry. Not sad. Just silent in that way where you know something went wrong, and you're better off letting her come to you.

She walked in, dropped her purse, and sat on the edge of the couch without even kicking off her shoes. Her face was a mask of disappointment. The total opposite of last night's high.

I muted the TV. "Bad day?"

She exhaled, leaned forward, and rested her elbows on her knees.

"Erica's out. Sick. Flu."

I waited.

"Paul and Debbie had to fly to LA last-minute for some contract negotiations. So I was alone. In charge, like I wanted... but total disaster today."

I sat up straighter. "What happened?"

"Erica is the only one who knows the lighting system, Luke. And she's the fluffer. Without her, the whole place just fell apart."

"Shit."

She nodded. "We were four hours late getting the lights up. The fill shadows were wrong. Makeup looked off on camera, so we lost more time fixing that. We tried to shoot the first scene of Creampie Coeds 8, and it was already tense."

"And the fluffing?"

She looked at me, her expression flat. "James is in this one and he couldn't keep it up. Said he wasn't 'feeling it' without Erica there. She always gives him a blowjob before the scene starts and then keeps him hard between takes. The female star is a fucking dud! She can't suck a dick to save her life, she does not seem to enjoy the sex and the male actors feel it."

I didn't say anything.

"We had to scrap most of the footage. Everyone stood around pretending it was fine, but it wasn't. We wasted hours."

"You couldn't have done anything differently," I said gently. "Shit happens!"

"I know. But it still felt like it was on me. I'm the one in charge now. I'm supposed to solve problems. We have no backup staff. I asked Paul and he says it is that way on purpose, he is very strict about STD testing on actors and staff and in his view the less people the better."

I moved beside her on the couch, wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She leaned into it.

"I wanted to crush it this week," she said. "Instead I looked like I had no idea what I was doing."

"Tomorrow will be better."

"I hope so," she whispered.

Then she broke down and started crying, holding her face in her hands. I reached around her and held her close.

She looked up at me, eyes red and full of tears. "What if that asshole Neil was right? What if I am a fucking loser? A fucking disaster. If I don't fix this, Paul is going to have to come back from LA and clean up my mess. Just like Neil said!"

"Fuck him!" I said. "He is a piece of shit, and you are awesome at what you do. I think the problem is that Neil got in your head one last time and made you feel insecure. Do you think all of their porn productions have always run smoothly? No set runs perfectly and you know that!"

She rested her head on my shoulder. "I know! I know! I just want to do good, that's all."

"Listen, if they didn't like your work or have confidence in you, then they never would have left you in charge. Remember, you have a lot of experience in mainstream production, and it overlaps with porn."

"I know! Thank you for understanding. Tomorrow will be better. I just needed to vent and feel sad, that's all."

I kissed her on the forehead and held her tight.

WEEK 4: WEDNESDAY MORNING

I woke up to the sound of drawers sliding open and hangers clinking. Sandy was standing in the closet in her bra and panties, sifting through her clothes, and she had a ton of clothes in that closet.

It wasn't just the way she moved, it was what she chose that made me realize she was depressed.

She was holding a faded pair of jeans. Loose fit. Comfy. The kind she wore when she had yard work to do.

Then she grabbed a plain black Nike t-shirt and laid it across the bed.

I sat up. "You okay?"

She shrugged, not facing me. "I'm fine. Just... comfy today."

"You don't look fine."

She turned, and I saw it on her face--the stress, the doubt, the burnout setting in before she even had coffee.

"You're still producer, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. And unless Erica makes a miraculous recovery or Paul teleports a new actress from LA, I'm stuck with the same broken crew I had yesterday."

I watched her for a moment. Then an idea hit me.

It felt insane. It felt perfect.

"Then why don't you be the fluffer?"

She turned like she didn't hear me right. "What?"

"Seriously. Why not?"

She blinked. "Luke. Come on."

"I mean it."

She crossed her arms, her bra pressing her tits together. "You want me to fluff the male talent?"

"I want you to fix your set. Keep the day on track. Yesterday fell apart because nobody was doing what Erica does. But if you do it, just for today, just to get through, you could save the shoot. And honestly... you'd probably be amazing at it."

She stared at me like she was waiting for the punchline. But I wasn't smiling. I was serious.

"Are you... actually okay with that?"

I nodded. "I want you to succeed. You earned that role. Don't let it crash just because one girl's out sick."

She looked down for a second. Thinking. Processing. Then, slowly, her expression began to change. Her lips parted, her brows lifted and then she smiled, a real smile.

"You're not just saying that to be kinky?"

"I mean... it is kinda hot," I admitted. "But no. I'm saying it because I believe in you. And because it'll fix the fucking problem."

She let out a breathless laugh, one hand brushing her hair back. "Holy shit."

"You'd have full control. You call the shots, remember? You're not the fluffer, you're the producer."

She walked toward me slowly, her smile growing wicked.

"And you'd really be okay with me... sucking cock at work today?"

"More than okay. I'll even help. I can come by and run the lighting for you. I have helped you out many times over the years. You know I can work the camera, the lighting, the sound... everything."

She stopped in front of me, that flicker of lust dancing in her eyes now. "You would?"

"Yeah. You know I've run studio lights before."

"You're insane."

"Probably." I said, and now my cock was starting to harden.

There was a pause, just long enough for the weight of it all to land. Then she grabbed my face and kissed me, jumping up on the bed.

"Okay, I need to dress like Erica does on set, sweats and a loose tee." She said, sounding excited again.

Sandy jumped off the bed and went back to the closet, holding up two outfits, one in each hand. The comfy jeans and tee were in her right. In her left: a pair of gray sweatpants and a thin white t-shirt that I hadn't seen in years.

She looked over at me, playful but a little nervous.

"I need fluffing clothes."

I blinked. "Fluffing clothes?"

She nodded. "Easy access. Comfort. Breathability." Then she held up the sweats. "No panties under these. Easy to pull down or push aside."

I swallowed.

She raised the white tee next. "And this shows my nipples even if I just think about cock. Erica wears almost this exact thing every time she's on set. I used to wonder why. Now I get it."

I stared. "I am so glad you are taking charge hon!"

She smiled, half wild, half turned on. "Okay, get ready, you are running lights today and helping Mike with whatever he needs."

She pulled the shirt on with no bra, and those big, perfect nipples immediately poked through. Then she slid the sweatpants up her legs, bare underneath. No makeup. Hair in a high ponytail. And still, she looked sexier than ever.

By the time we were walking out the front door, I was half-hard and she knew it.

We didn't talk much on the ride. Just shared glances and grins. I couldn't stop looking at her tits shifting under that thin cotton, or the way the waistband of her sweats hugged her hips without any lines.

She kept one hand in her lap the whole time, fingers moving lightly.

"You touching yourself?" I asked quietly.

"Not yet," she whispered. "But my pussy's soaked already."

She gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"You sure you're ready for this?" I asked.

Her answer was immediate. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

We made more small talk and finally arrived at her work.

We walked into the converted warehouse, the scent of fresh brewed coffee hanging faintly in the air. Sandy led the way in, her stride confident, tits gently bouncing under her thin white tee. She made a beeline toward the small crew already gathering near the main set.

The set itself was a mock-up of a dorm room, tight, simple, and the lighting was off and I knew already what the problem was. The walls were painted a warm, almost too-yellow shade meant to feel cheerful but came off more like student housing beige. A standard twin bed sat in the middle with a cheap-looking plaid comforter, flanked by a basic nightstand that looked straight out of a campus furniture catalog. A fake college logo banner hung crookedly on the wall, completing the illusion with just enough effort to sell the scene if you didn't look too hard.

First up was a chubby guy in cargo shorts and a faded hoodie, adjusting a camera mounted on a tripod.

"Mike," she said, getting his attention. "Quick heads-up, Luke's helping out today."

Mike looked up, surprised but not annoyed. "Luke?"

"My husband," she said. "He's got experience with lighting and production. He'll be filling in wherever we need a hand and he knows lighting."

Mike wiped his hands on a towel and stepped forward to shake mine. "Oh, cool. Nice to meet you, man."

"You too."

"We're running lean today, so that actually helps a lot."

Sandy nodded. "Exactly why I brought him."

She turned and gestured toward the two male actors chatting by the set.

"Gregory," she said, pointing to the slightly younger one, clean-cut, friendly, dressed in sweats and a hoodie. "And James, obviously."

James gave me a grin. "Mr. Taylor... er... Luke... Glad you're here, man."

"All good," I said, returning it with a nod.

Sandy cleared her throat lightly to get everyone's attention. "Alright, just so everyone's up to speed. Erica's still out, so I'll be handling fluffing duties today."

No one reacted like it was unusual. Mike just gave a short nod. Gregory and James exchanged a quick glance but said nothing.

A few moments later, as the crew started to scatter and prep the scene, James drifted over to me.

"Hey," he said quietly. "You got a sec?"

I nodded and followed him a few steps away from the set.

He scratched the back of his neck, clearly unsure how to phrase it. "Look, uh... I just wanted to check in. You're really cool with this? With Sandy stepping in like that?"

I met his eyes. There was no judgment there, just concern. The kind that comes from knowing each other for years.

"She's like a second mom to me," he added. "And you've always felt like a second dad. I guess I just needed to hear it from you."

I smiled. "James, it's okay. Really."

He gave a short breath through his nose, still unsure.

"I mean it," I said. "We talked it through. I'm here because I support her. She's not doing this for attention, she's doing it to save the shoot. She's earned that right."

James nodded slowly, letting it sink in. "Alright. That's all I needed, man. Just didn't want things to get weird between us."

"They're not weird," I said. "We're professionals today. Let's keep it that way."

He smiled. "Cool. Thanks, Mr. T."

"Call me Luke on set, so it doesn't get weird for you and call her Sandy." I said.

"Okay... will do. Thanks, Luke!"

Finally, Sandy brought me to the last member of the group, a young blonde with long, smooth legs and a perfect fake tan. Her shirt hung open, her bare tits out, nipples already hard in the cool air. Below, she wore only a pair of tiny pink shorts that showed off her ass. She was clearly seconds from being on set, already half in character.

"This is Tabitha," Sandy said. "Our lead actress for today."

Tabitha looked me over slowly, her gaze shameless, almost hungry. Her lips curled into a teasing smile, like we were already in on something together.

"You're the husband?" she asked, her voice sweet but thick with suggestion.

"Yeah."

She bit her lip slightly and stepped a little closer. "Nice to meet you. Your wife is awesome! You are a lucky man."

Sandy didn't respond right away. Her face stayed neutral, but I could read the subtle shift in her jaw. Not jealousy, just irritation. The same look she gave bad interns back when she worked in broadcast.

"Tabitha," she said calmly, "wardrobe's still waiting for your outfit adjustment. You'll need to get that done before we block the opener."

Tabitha turned without a word, hips swaying, and wandered off with that same empty little smile.

Sandy watched her go, then muttered just loud enough for me to hear, "If she put half as much effort into performing as she does into flirting, I wouldn't have to babysit."

I grinned. "I Think she knows you're in charge!"

I took the opportunity to change some lighting on the set, a few diffusers and adjustments and it was good to go.

Tabitha was finally on set, spread out across the narrow dorm bed like a girl trying to look natural while showing off everything. One leg bent, the other extended, her hand slowly working between her thighs. The yellow walls behind her glowed under the key light, making her tan skin pop. Her shirt was off now, tossed in a heap on the floor. The pink shorts were gone too. She was naked and glistening, moaning quietly for the camera.

Mike stood a few feet away, steady behind the main rig, tracking her movements with practiced ease. "That's good," he said softly. "Keep touching... yeah, just like that."

Just off to the side of the set, a large gray ottoman sat near the edge of the lighting rig. That was Erica's spot, the unofficial fluffing station. A soft, out-of-the-way perch where talent could stay ready without interrupting the shot.

Today, Sandy was sitting there.

She looked composed. Focused. Hair tied up. No makeup. Nipples still poking through her white tee, her sweatpants loose at the waist, no lines underneath. She wasn't talking. Wasn't smiling. Just sitting still, waiting for the job to start.

I was already hard. I knew she was waiting for the first cock. Ready to suck and make it hard.

I picked up the smaller handheld camera from the gear table and flipped it on. The red light blinked to life, and I brought it to my eye. Not the main shoot, just behind-the-scenes. Whoever watches the bloopers at the end might see some of this.

Footsteps approached. I turned slightly and saw James walking toward us, already naked. His cock hung soft, swaying slightly with each step.

He glanced at me, grinning. "This is gonna be great footage." I nodded, camera still rolling. My pulse was pounding. I was so horny, this was surreal, here was my wife, about ready to suck the cock of our son's best friend. Someone who has spent more time in our house than I can count, and he was like another son to me, and that's what made it awkward and erotic at the same time, taboo without being taboo.

He stopped in front of Sandy, standing in front of my wife completely naked. She looked up at him but didn't say a word. She just sat there on the ottoman, her gray sweatpants framing her curvy thighs and her nipples clearly hard through her white tshirt. Her face was level with his cock and she looked up at him and gently bit her lower lip, a clear sign she was turned on.

His cock gently curved down towards the floor because he was still half soft. He was holding it at the base, and gently, pointing the soft head at her lips. She stared directly at his cock, I wondered what she was thinking, if she was struggling with having to actually suck his cock; did she feel like a mother to him? Did that turn her off in some way? Any question I had was put to rest when she leaned slightly forward and gave the head a gentle and soft kiss.

She leaned back away from his cock, clearly teasing him. She was now looking up at him, maintaining intense eye contact between the two of them.

"What? What do you want?" She asked in a low raspy, sexy voice.

James moved forward slightly and still holding his cock, carefully and slowly rubbed the head of his cock across my wife's lips. She sat still and kept her lips sealed, denying him access to her mouth. He stroked his cock a little, it was starting to harden and grow visibly. Her teasing was having the desired effect.

 

Still stroking his cock, he tried another pass across her lip, this time precum smeared in a wet line across her upper lip. She still did not open, just sat like a statue, her beautiful blue eyes and sexy expression, I knew was too much for James and I knew it was driving him crazy.

He pointed his cock at the ceiling and stroked, so she could see his big, smooth balls. I was careful with the camera, filming the entire thing and getting great up-close footage.

With his cock a safe distance from her lips, she said again, "What do you want?"

It was like they were playing a game of chicken. James did not want to say it--he wanted her to submit to him and fall all over his cock. But she was not having it. She wanted him to submit, to have to ask for her beautiful mouth.

James was now fully hard, and the size of his cock was indeed impressive, fat and thick and appeared to be ten inches long. He attempted a third time, placing the now fully engorged head of his cock right at her lips. I think he expected her to open, but she didn't. He pressed his cock forward, his cock slightly pushed her lips apart and to the side and I could see her white teeth closed like a vise behind them. Then his cock sprang off to the side, having been denied access a third time.

James was now desperate. "Fuck... Sandy... suck my cock. Please! Please open that beautiful mouth of yours."

My wife looked sensual and in control and she calmly grabbed his cock, replacing his hand. I zoomed in smoothly on her hand wrapped around his cock, her red nails looked like a work of art, and her wedding ring with the many diamonds sparkled. Her hand was really the star of the show.

She opened her mouth and brought the spongy head to her mouth, I watched in fascination as her lips slowly wrapped around the gigantic head. I was so hard in my jeans I had to adjust myself. Her hand still wrapped around his thick shaft, began jerking him with slow, teasing strokes while her lips locked around the head. She sucked him with filthy confidence, her red lipstick smearing on his cock now, her cheeks hollowing as she worked his shaft with her hand.

My sexy wife now started to slowly bob her head and stroke his cock at the same time, using her mouth and hand in tandem to satisfy his turgid cock.

James was moaning and wanted more. He took his left hand, placing it behind her head, trying to pull my wife's hot mouth down on his cock even further and increase the speed of her bobbing head. But I could see her resist, because his cock was so big and was causing her to choke and gag. But that did not stop him. Now controlling her head, he began thrusting his hips in rhythm with her hand and mouth, fucking her face.

As she periodically gagged on his cock, large volumes of saliva and spit would come out and slide down his cock and balls. She would gather the spit with her hand and use it as lube as she stroked his hard and veiny cock.

"Oh fuuuck... Sandy... I'm gonna..."

Sandy's eyes widened and she pushed his cock out of and away from her mouth. She looked up at him angrily. "Don't you fucking dare cum! Do not ruin my set today! We are behind as it is!"

She let go of James's cock and stood up. He stepped back, his cock swaying back and forth, so hard it looked like he was about to cum.

All the confidence James had was out the window. Not only was this his boss, this was also Mrs. Taylor--his best friend's mom--and she held a place of authority in two areas of his life. In fact, he seemed to forget he was at work and was entitled to some level of respect. Instead, he acted like he'd just gotten yelled at by his mother--and in a way, he did.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Taylor," he said sheepishly.

"Get on set if you're ready! Where's Gregory?" she snapped.

I was so fucking turned on by the whole episode. I wanted nothing more than to bend my wife over that ottoman and fuck her until I exploded inside her. But I couldn't--this was a professional production studio, and she ran a tight ship.

Gregory spoke up from somewhere behind me. I turned around and saw him there, naked, his cock fully hard. Gregory stammered and said, "I'm already hard. Watching the way you fluffed James while your husband filmed is the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Sandy stared at him with a look of disdain. "Okay! You heard me. Get on set and get to work! We have shit to do, and I'm not a fucking whore like Erica that you can use as a cum dumpster!"

Gregory quickly walked to the set, and I heard Mike directing them on where to begin.

I had never seen this side of my wife before, but I liked it. She was so fucking hot.

I turned the camera off and set it down on a table. My wife came over to me and grinned.

"How do you like that?" she asked rhetorically. "You have to show them who the boss is at all times. Otherwise, you lose all respect."

Even though we could see the set and could see James and Gregory fucking Tabitha, we were far enough away that nobody could hear us. We had privacy in that sense. "Honey! You are so fucking hot! Who are you?" I asked, laughing.

"Yeah! You still think I am hot! Even after sucking someone else's cock?" She asked.

I smiled and raised an eyebrow. "You know I think you're hot. You know how much this turns me on," I said, still sporting an erection under my jeans.

She had a devilish smile on her lips and a twinkle in her pretty blue eyes. As I took in the sight of my wife, I noticed her mouth and chin were still wet from gagging on James's cock. Her neck was wet with saliva, and the top of her white shirt had wet spots on it from the messy blowjob. I wanted nothing more than to kiss her and taste the remnants of her fluffing her main male star.

"Prove it. Why don't you kiss me then?" she asked as she moved closer to me.

Moving in, I grabbed her, placing my hands on her waist and pulling her close. She lifted her face, and we moved in for our first kiss ever after she'd sucked another man's cock. Her lips were still wet and sticky, but that didn't stop me from pushing my tongue into her mouth and kissing her passionately. As our tongues danced with each other, I could taste cock and her saliva, and it sent jolts of pleasure to my cock. She lifted her head back, breaking the kiss and exposing her wet neck. I moved in like a vampire and began licking up the wet strands of saliva that clung to her neck, and I loved the taste of it. She moaned as I kissed and licked her neck clean. Then I moved up, licking her chin clean of what was certainly a mix of precum and saliva.

We both wanted to fuck right there, but Sandy gently pushed me back. "Save it for home, stud."

"Okay." I whispered and pulled her in for a hug, her head pressing against my chest.

"I need to call my boss and give him updates and discuss what going on in LA." She said.

"I am just gonna be here, ready to film my favortie fluffer girl." I said with a smile.

She walked over to a table where her purse sat on the floor near the leg. She bent forward at the waist, her legs straight, causing the sweats to tighten across her big, curvy ass. The material was light enough, yet tight enough to cling to her ass, and that's when I saw the huge wet spot seeping from her pussy, leaving a dark wet stain on the light gray sweats. I had never seen her wet like this--her pussy was dripping, and because she was not wearing panties, it looked like she'd peed her pants a little, but it was all juice from a horny pussy.

Still bent over, fishing through her purse for her phone, she turned her head back and looked at me, smiling.

I smiled back.

"Like what you see?" she asked.

I grinned and shook my head. She laughed and came back up with her cell phone and disappeared into an office to call her boss.

For the next hour and a half, I watched my wife transform into a dynamo. She would chat with Mike, giving him ideas for better camera angles--things she'd learned from over twenty years in news and television production. Mike had no ego and took her direction with humility.

Oddly enough, the sex scene with Tabitha was not erotic. Maybe because I had been revved up earlier watching my wife. But the scene was ending, and I was expecting them to cum inside Tabitha's little pussy. Instead, Mike handed her a syringe full of fake cum, and she inserted it into her pussy. Then Mike filmed James and Gregory giving her two fake creampies. I was not really shocked at this--I knew from watching a lot of porn that many creampies are fake.

The crew left for lunch, but Sandy went back into her office and was on the phone with distributors, because they still made DVDs and Blu-rays. Sandy had packed us lunch, and I ate a sandwich by myself.

When the crew came back, Sandy came out of her office and laid out the game plan for the afternoon. The next scene was a lesbian scene with Tabitha, and after that was the final scene of the day, which was Tabitha getting fucked in a classroom by Gregory and James, and that scene would end with a double facial.

The warehouse had four big stages that could be turned into almost any set idea--a living room, a classroom, an office, even a small park, because they had turf and fake trees to use. I could tell Paul had built up quite an impressive studio over the years.

The other female actress was in makeup getting ready. Her name was Erin, and this was her only scene in the film. Once she came out, she followed Mike and Tabitha to the same stage as earlier.

Gregory disappeared to the employee lounge, which was in another area. It wasn't much--just a few couches and a big-screen TV. Enough to keep employees occupied while they waited.

James hung around and wanted to speak to me.

"Mr. T?" he asked.

"I'm sorry if I got carried away earlier with Mrs. T. I didn't mean to make her mad. I tried to warn her I was gonna cum... but I know I should have stopped once I was good and hard. I know better. I'm professional."

I almost felt bad--I loved James like he was my own son--but I knew Sandy was not mad at all. She just had to lay down the law. However, I wasn't going to tell him that. I did a good job of holding back a smirk.

"James, this is a big position in this company, and she takes her work seriously. She is upset that Erica can't be here, but she knows that shit happens. Paul told us that a fluffer is not necessary on set, it is a perk, that a true professional can get hard on demand." That part was a lie, but I was not going to undermine her.

"I know..." He said, looking down at his feet.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, James. I would not do anything to fuck with the production schedule, otherwise, you are gonna see her bad side. Which, I am her husband and I don't like seeing it either."

"I also wanted to apologize to you. You are like another dad to me, and I would never do anything to disrespect you, or Mrs. T. This is just my job, that's all." He said, sheepishly.

I patted him on the shoulder, "James, I understand this is a job. Just be professional and do everything in your power to help my wife with her new career."

"I will, I promise." He said, before taking off and joining Gregory in the lounge.

The next two hours flew by. Mike finished filming the girls, lots of raw footage to be sent to editing. Sandy was all over the place, office, the set, phone calls with different teams throughout the company.

We had about twenty minutes before the final scene was to be filmed. Mike moved to a different stage; we had lighting already in place, and I helped move diffusers from the previous stage and set up the new lighting. This set was a mock classroom with a big green aluminum desk that every high school teacher has, and the many one-piece desk chairs the students use.

Sandy sat on the ottoman with her phone, texting Paul and waiting for Gregory and James to come out of the lounge. Tabitha was still in makeup.

"Are you ready to film me again, Mr. T?" my wife asked with a smile.

I nodded--I was ready.

A minute later, Gregory and James appeared, both nude like last time, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to walk around naked at work. I grabbed a camera and began filming. I noticed Tabitha and Mike already getting on set.

Sandy threw her phone down and looked up at the young men. "Okay, if either of you cum on me, I will snap your cocks off. You both have to give Tabitha a facial," she warned.

"Yes, ma'am," they said in unison.

They both stepped in front of her, cocks each in that chubby stage. James stood on her right side and Gregory was on her left. I was right in the middle so I could film her sucking cock and get good footage, and that was something both men understood. But they each had comfortable positions in front of her.

I watched as Sandy grabbed both semi-hard cocks, stroking each gently. Then she held James's cock at the base and wrapped her lips around his head, sucking his cock. She bobbed her head on his cock for about five seconds before sucking Gregory's cock into her mouth. Both cocks were big--Gregory's was about three inches shorter, but still impressive and girthy, with a pink head and a shaft that was wider in the middle, like a loaf of bread.

I zoomed in on my wife's red lips stretching over Gregory's cock. James's cock was pushing and brushing against the side of her cheek.

James and Gregory were now hard as rocks, and my wife was moaning as she sucked their cocks. James kept pressing his cock forward, fighting for her mouth, and she moved over to him. No eye contact this time, just her staring at his pubic bone, but this time, she slowly took his cock in her mouth. Her mouth kept sliding down his cock, slowly taking in even more than earlier, without choking. She pulled back, and then he started fucking her face slowly, each time trying to shove more and more of his cock down her throat, but he was still so big, he could only get about five inches in before she gagged. After about thirty seconds of sucking James, Gregory was trying to push his cock in, but Sandy would not stop sucking James.

Gregory was getting frustrated, smacking his cock on her cheek as she bobbed on James's cock. Finally, she moved her head over and took Gregory into her mouth. He let out a sigh before saying, "Shit, Sandy... you are so fucking good!"

She looked up into his eyes as he complimented her, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth. Then she held both cocks proudly in front of her face, impressed with how hard she made them.

"Okay, boys! Go and paint that bitch white!" She commanded.

James and Gregory moved back, their cocks swaying like steel beams. I was blown away by how they obeyed her, like she was a drill sergeant. I watched as they stepped on set, taking direction from Mike and getting into the scene with Tabitha.

Sandy patted the ottoman next to her, motioning for me to sit next to her. I sat next to my wife. She gave me a quick kiss on the lips, her hand rubbed my crotch, feeling my hard cock under my jeans.

"So, do you like your first day on the job?" she asked, smiling.

Obviously, she knew this wasn't my real job, but I appreciated her humor. "The pay is shit, but the perks are great!" I said, winking at her.

"Wait until they all go home. I am going to lock up, and we are going to fuck right here on this ottoman," she stated.

The ottoman was situated so that you could see the two main stages, and we could clearly see Gregory fucking Tabitha from behind while James face-fucked her.

"Normally I would be turned on by watching them fuck, but after watching you today, that does nothing for me," I said.

"Wait until you see them cum! You might change your mind," she said, staring at the threesome.

We watched the set, sitting next to each other. I had my arm around my wife. I had a mix of emotions, I was horny, surprisingly I was not jealous of Gregory or James, I felt grateful to have my wife, sexy and hot and she shared my cuckold kink and now we had this strange outlet for it, that was far better and safer than finding another man.

I turned to my wife, kissing her on top of the head, "I love you."

"I love you too!" She said looking up at me and kissing me on the cheek.

There was some rustling on set, as Tabitha moved down on her knees between James and Gregory. Mike positioned himself well with the camera. The two men were stroking themselves as they pointed their cocks at Tabitha's open mouth. She sat there like a good girl, her mouth open, her pink tongue waiting for the drops of spunk that were soon to follow.

We watched as James came first, huge globs of white cum spewing from his massive cock, first landing over her nose in big white clumps. More spurts followed, cum landing in her mouth and across her lips. Gregory now started to cum, his cum shot out like a fire hose, with much more force than James. Cum splashed across here forehead, then more ropes of jizz followed, painting thick white lines over her mouth, nose and eyes.

Sandy was right, this was impressive, their cum was so thick and so white it clung to her face like glue. I could see why my wife was impressed.

My wife leaned in toward my ear and whispered, "This is why most nights when I come home, my pussy is soaking wet. I keep thinking how it would be to have that thick white cum in my pussy, bringing it home for you to lick out of me."

"When they leave, I am going to fuck you so hard," I whispered.

"You better, or I will let Gregory fuck me and fill me with his sticky white cum."

Tabitha was now wiping her face with a towel. They were done filming, and the day was a wrap, and I was fucking glad. I needed to cum. I needed to fuck my wife right now.

Sandy got up and walked toward the set, thanking everybody and praising them for their work. Mike was already turning off the lighting and securing the equipment. Twenty minutes later, Sandy was ushering the last employee out, leaving just the two of us alone.

I followed her to the ottoman. She sat down facing me, like she had for James and Gregory.

"Hey stud! I think you need fluffing before you go fuck that blonde whore on set," she said with a seductive grin.

I stood in front of her and unbuckled my jeans, pushing them and my boxers to the ground. I kicked off my shoes and stepped out of my clothes, followed by my T-shirt, which I threw on the floor.

"I think the rule is you have to be naked to get fluffed," I said.

Sandy's tongue traced a slow, wet path from the base of my shaft up to the head, her eyes locked on mine the entire time. When she reached the tip, she flicked her tongue over the slit, catching the bead of precum already there, moaning softly.

She wrapped her lips around the head and sucked gently--teasing, slow, letting her spit build up before she slid lower, her hand twisting at the base. Her other hand moved to my thigh, fingertips digging in just enough to let me feel her want.

"You've been holding your cum all day," she whispered, letting it slide free with a wet pop, stroking it slow and messy. "Watching me suck them. You've been waiting to unload this for hours, haven't you?"

I couldn't even answer. My cock twitched in her fist, thick and heavy, already flushed dark with need.

"Tell me how bad you want this," she said, licking from the base again, her spit glistening in the dim studio light. "Tell me how hard you got when you saw me take James down my throat. When I looked up at you with his cock in my mouth. You were dying to pull me off and make me suck you instead, weren't you?"

"Fuck... Sandy..." I groaned, hand in her hair now, not guiding--just holding, needing the contact. "I've never been so hard in my life."

She grinned around the shaft as she took it deeper this time, her lips sealing tight, throat relaxing as she swallowed inch after inch. My hips jerked forward instinctively, and she took it--moaning low, massaging the underside with her tongue as I hit the back of her throat.

 

Her spit coated everything, running down my shaft, soaking her fist as she started to stroke and suck in perfect rhythm. I could barely stand. My knees felt weak. My balls were tight, heavy, ready.

"Get on the ottoman," I growled, pulling her up by the waist.

She stood, yanked off her sweatpants in one smooth motion, then climbed up, facing away from me, hands on the padded edge. Her ass was already swaying, thighs slick, her pussy glistening and spread open, begging.

I got down behind her, my face inches from her ass crack. My wife's ass was the hottest thing in the world, in my book. I gently took in the scent of her asshole and pussy. It was a hot, horny smell--the smell of pussy that's been horny and dripping all day.

I planted kisses on her cheeks, starting with her right cheek, up and over her crack, and then kissing my way down her left cheek. I spread her cheeks apart and pushed my face into her crack. I kissed her asshole--once, twice, three times--tasting the wetness that had been there all day. I pushed my tongue into her asshole, past her tight ring, causing her to moan loudly.

I licked my way down to her wet pussy. It was flowing with juices, which pooled on my tongue as I licked and swallowed. Her pussy was like a steam oven, and I couldn't get enough.

"Stop teasing," she said, voice rough. "I've been horny all day. I want you inside me. Now."

I grabbed her hips and lined myself up, the head sliding through her slick pussy lips, catching at her entrance.

"Is this where you want it?" I asked, rubbing it over her clit, teasing just a little longer.

"Yes. Yes, baby--just fuck me."

That was it.

I thrust into her in one deep, smooth stroke, burying every inch in her soaked pussy. She cried out, bracing herself, her back arching as I slammed into her again, harder, deeper. The ottoman rocked under us with every thrust, her ass rippling from the impact, pussy gripping my cock.

"You are so fucking hot, baby!" I groaned, holding her by the waist and slamming into her over and over, the slap of our bodies echoing through the empty warehouse.

She looked back at me, hair wild, lips parted. "Come on, stud. Fuck me! Fuck your dirty whore wife!"

I gripped her hips harder, pounding into her, watching the way her ass bounced with every thrust. She was soaked--fucking drenched--her pussy swallowing me over and over.

"God, you feel so good," I growled, thrusting deep, grinding against her, feeling the way her walls fluttered around me. "So fucking tight, baby. You want it?"

"Yes," she gasped, bracing herself against the ottoman, fingers clawing at the fabric. "I want it. I want your cum in me. Fill my pussy. Cum in me, baby!"

I leaned down, panting, whispering into her ear. "Tell me how bad you want James to fuck this pussy," I said. "Tell me how bad you want him to fuck your cunt and blow his load inside you."

She gasped, then moaned, her voice thick and filthy. "I want it so fucking bad. I want to ride his cock, feel it stretching me wide. I want him to cum in me and flood my cunt so deep it drips out of me for two days."

I slammed into her over and over, my balls slapping against her soaked clit, her pussy squelching around me, the wet sound echoing off the studio walls. Her whole body jolted with each stroke, knees slipping from the ottoman cushion, tits bouncing wildly beneath her. Then she screamed.

It started as a moan, but it turned into a full-throated, feral scream as her orgasm ripped through her. Her body seized, back arched hard, legs trembling, pussy clenching around my cock like a vise.

"Oh my god--FUCK--I'm cumming!" she wailed.

She screamed again, louder, wilder, her hands clawing at the ottoman, mouth open, eyes shut tight as she came so hard her whole body shook. I didn't slow down. I fucked her through it--watching her ass clench, watching her pussy cream and squirt out around my cock as she cried out again and again, completely ruined.

I gripped her hips tighter and just held there. Her pussy was pulsating on my cock as the tremors of her orgasm rippled throughout her body.

We both slowly stopped moving, catching our breath. The view of her round ass cheeks was like a drug acting on my brain, keeping me rock hard.

Then she twisted her head, looked back at me with a wicked smile, her eyes gleaming.

"No..." she said, her voice soft but sharp. "You want James's cock."

She kept going, her voice a slow, dirty whisper. "You want to watch him cum in me. Want to see his thick, white jizz leaking out of my pussy. Onto your face."

I groaned, cock twitching, throbbing inside her.

She laughed, breathless, teasing. "You want to lick it out, don't you? You want me to sit on your face, my pussy full of his cum, while you taste it. While I grind it into your mouth and make you drink it like the little cum-obsessed cuck you are."

My whole body locked up, cock pulsing, the words burning into my brain.

"You want his fucking load, baby," she whispered. "Say it. Say you want to eat his sticky cum right out of your wife's fucked pussy."

I snapped.

I drove into her hard, cock buried to the hilt, and came--hard. My balls tightened, then surged, thick ropes of cum shooting deep into her pussy. She screamed as she came with me again, her cunt clenching around me, my cum gushing down her thighs as I filled her up.

She looked back, sweaty, glowing, smiling like the perfect slut she was and whispered, "Next time... we'll make that fantasy real."

I pulled out slowly, and a thick string of cum followed, dripping from her swollen pussy, down her inner thighs. I grabbed her ass and spread her wide, admiring the mess. Her pussy was raw and glistening, stretched wide, flushed red, still twitching from how hard she'd just cum.

Sandy turned to face me, her body still flushed and trembling, hair a wild mess. She smiled--soft, satisfied--then leaned in and kissed me. Slow, warm, lips sticky with sweat and sex. When we finally pulled apart, she whispered, "Let's get out of here."

We cleaned up in silence, a quiet intimacy between us as we wiped down the ottoman, straightened the set, and gathered our clothes. The air still smelled like sweat and cum, the lights dimmed now, the cameras off. I followed her to the door, her hand in mine, both of us still a little wobbly on our legs. We stepped out into the night.

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