Free On Set by Billy London Page B

knees.
    “Carry on,” the director hissed.
    “If you lift your leg a little,” Sean directed, his voice barely controllable.
    He was trying to lean most of his weight away from her, but god the way she was looking at him, with those big dark eyes, her breasts pouting at him every time she breathed. She lifted her hips to move into position and he barely stifled a groan as he stroked a hand over her thigh to her hip and he touched nothing but bare skin. It made his cock leap with need.
    “Any better?”
    “No.”
    “What can I do?” she asked, parting her lips in a smile. He kissed her, damn the set, damn the director.
    “Yes!” the director’s voice broke through Sean’s haze, his body rubbing against hers, mimicking what he really wanted to be doing to her. She returned his kiss just as fervently, arms around his neck, thrusting her hips against his own. Any self control he had before vanished when her creamy wetness began to seep through the material of his trousers.
    He’d never done this before. Hell he’d never wanted to until now. With her skirts covering any modesty he used to have, he fumbled with the ties of his costume, releasing his cock, rock hard and already leaking. Levering himself more firmly on top of her, he gazed at the way her lips parted, how heavy lidded her eyes looked. There was no one else on the set but the two of them. Straining to control himself, he allowed the tip of his cock to brush over petal soft, slick pussy lips. He watched her gasp at the feel of him.
    “Where’s your cock sock?” she whispered.
    “Real thing for you Melanie,” he whispered back, thrusting deeply into her. She cried out, all those glorious, muscles tightened around him, pulling him further inside her.
    “Cut!” the director yelled. Sean felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been thrown at him. He couldn’t move and from the way Melanie’s pussy was gripping him, neither could she.
     
    ***
     
    Melanie was frantic, shaking with part fear of being caught fucking Sean McNeil on set, and partly with the desperation of needing him to carry on. Rocking gently against him, she received a curt. “Don’t you dare move, woman,” from him.
    “Orgy Fairy number one, needs a touch up on the chest. Make up!”
    The makeup artist tiptoed over and dusted more of the powder over her breast. The bristles made her shake, and her body clenched insistently around Sean’s cock. He threw her a look that told her he was barely keeping a rein on his emotions. The makeup artist explained, “It’s the flavored one. Like candy floss.”
    “Love,” Melanie said, her voice shaking. “Stop playing with my tits, get off the set so he can fuck me. Please. I’m begging you.”
    “Knew it,” she murmured in reply tip toeing back out of shot. Mel looked back to Sean, sweat beading on his bare chest, the moisture crystallising the lighting. His cock pulsed within her.
    “Oh my god,” she wailed softly. “Oh my god, hurry up.”
    “Say action, you cunt,” he grunted towards the director.
    “Good to go, action!”
    Sean agonizingly gripped her hips to draw her slowly from him until only the head was nestled inside her before he slammed back inside her. She arched, the force of the connection almost making her snap her spine.
    The sensations were unreal, her only reality was the spike of the wood chips in her back, grinding into her, every time Sean’s cock went deep, pumping her hard. No wonder every actress wanted to get underneath him, or on top of him. He knew what he was doing. He absolutely knew how to use that thick cock of his, rolling his hips to reach every single part of her, triggering every nerve ending so her very heart beat centered at her pussy.
    “Change it up,” the director called. Sean’s chest was heaving, but he obeyed the command, slowly withdrawing from her. She gave the softest of wails when he did.
    “We’re not done,” he promised quietly.
    She sent him a slumberous smile. “That