A popular host of an entertainment news program is is overpowered after participating as an aerobics instructor in an aerobics videotaping commercial production with a former football player.
DISCLAIMER: This is a total work of fiction involving a public celebrity and did not actually occur. It is an adult fantasy exploring human sexuality and does not advocate any actual, real, intended or otherwise violence against the actual person.
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“The Rape of Mary H.”
A 1 hour 15 min 36 sec recording.
It was early December 1988 and the location was a downtown film and photography studio at a converted, former warehouse in Los Angeles. The company owning the studio went by the name, SuperTimesVideo. It was known for film and video productions for a large number of client companies involved in fitness exercise, product promotions, modeling photography, and even movie production.
Ariel, Inc., a company that specialized in women’s health and fitness information programs and products, wanted to enter the lucrative market for women’s aerobics exercise program videos. Its sales and marketing department had access to a plethora of Los Angeles actresses, models, and celebrities to draw upon. The company tendered letters of interest to a large number of these women. To their surprise, one of the contacts which had been considered a long-shot, responded. Her name was Mary Hart, already a well-known television show host.
In a telephone conversation between the company sales and marketing director and Mary Hart, Mary stated she had recently completed an aerobics exercise video for a major corporation. Mary was confident the well-produced aerobics video would be highly successful on the women’s health and fitness market. Then she confided that the video was more suited for women already acclimated to a fitness regimen. After much consideration, Mary Hart was certain that she should also undertake a basic aerobics exercise video, a program that would be better suited for beginners and not as strenuous. She already voiced the idea to the major corporation of her upcoming aerobics video, but there were already plans for a follow-up aerobics video at the same fitness level as the first. Mary Hart expressed interest in working with SuperTimesVideo for the production of a beginner’s aerobics exercise video, if Ariel, Inc. would be amenable to her concept.
A number of telephone discussions ensued until the executives at Ariel, Inc. and Mary Hart reached an understanding of the basic aerobics exercise program Mary intended to demonstrate. Ariel, Inc. was anxious that its aerobics exercise video be interesting, exciting, and competitive with the aerobics videos currently on the market. Articulate, confident, and persuasive, Mary assured the female executives of Ariel that her proposed basic aerobics video would be challenging and fun to the beginner. Ariel had initially contemplated hiring a professional aerobics instructor to devise a generic aerobics exercise workout for the video.
Mary Hart convinced Ariel that she could construct the aerobics workout based on her own aerobics exercise experience, thereby saving Ariel the expense of hiring the professional. It sounded like an excellent proposition. The Ariel female executives and Mary Hart agreed to meet at the downtown Los Angeles film and video studio so that Mary could demonstrate her basic aerobics exercise workout concept.
This is where I, Rick, equipment handler, come in. I was 26 at the time and Mary Hart was 38 but she looked exceptional for her age, besides her beautiful face and perfect, toned, supple legs, was completely fit and trim. She looked five years younger and had the body figure of a woman ten years younger. Mary Hart was only five feet, six inches tall, but she always wore high heels which added some two-and-a half more inches and her hair style, fluffed in the typical 1980s fashion, gave her even more perceived height so that she looked almost five ten. But for the aerobics video her hair would be styled back in a practical but stylish ponytail.
The meeting between the Ariel executives and Mary Hart would typically be discussion and negotiations. Since Mary suggested no need for an aerobics professional consultant, she would have to demonstrate her proposed beginner’s aerobics workout program in person. The studio had a dressing room near the back wall. Next to the dressing room was a large equipment storage room with work tables and benches. A sizable storage closet was against the wall separating the dressing room. It was easy to clear out much of the closet. At the correct spot and height, I drilled a hole through to the dressing room. The hole diameter matched the lipstick camera transmitter that I fit snugly into. A lipstick camera is a small video transmitter constructed in the shape of a small metal cylinder. Its shape resembles a woman’s lipstick cylinder, hence its nickname. Inside the dressing room I attached a small, framed picture of my own construction over the camera lens. The framed picture was a mosaic of shiny, tiny objects glued on to the surface. The camera lens would be cleverly hidden among the mosaic. The video lens was widescreen, to view as much of the dressing room as possible. The video transmitter led to a receiver connected to a small, portable color television in turn connected via coaxial to a VHS tape recorder. Not only would I get to enjoy seeing everything, I could record it for later viewing. The set-up was only meant to be temporary. I had only one videotaping subject in mind, Mary herself.
The appointed meeting day arrived. While the Ariel executives, photo studio management, and Mary Hart discussed the aerobics video deal in the conference room, I made sure the video recording equipment stood ready. There were other staff around the studio but it was not a filming or videotaping day so the premises were mostly empty. In fact I didn’t need to be at the studio but explained my presence for checking and maintaining the lighting and filming equipment. The conference went on for well over an hour. I kept busy checking the studio equipment but even I began to feel impatience and nervousness with excitement. Finally I could see beyond the conference room glass walls movement of the attendees. One of the studio managers stood up to open the glass door for Mary Hart. She emerged, still talking to the people inside the conference room. The manager escorted Mary to the dressing room carrying her stylish ladies clothing gym bag. I was already inside the equipment room. Quickly I switched on the lipstick camera, the small tv monitor, and the VHS recorder and partially closed the closet doors. I heard their voices outside the room door, listened to the dressing room door open and close. Straining my hearing, I listened for the sound of the studio manager’s retreating footsteps, assured that I would not be surprised and discovered. I brought some video and sound equipment over to the closet with a stool so that I could look busy. I opened the right closet door fully so I could view the tv monitor. The voyeur adventure began.
The dressing room dimensions were, ten feet by 12 feet. Visualizing the door on a ten foot side, a large mirror hung on the left side, another large mirror hung on the opposite, ten foot side. The right, 12 foot side carried only several framed pictures. A small table stood against that same side, wedged into the corner with the ten foot side. There was a small desk and chair against the 12 foot mirrored wall. Mary Hart laid her coach purse on the desk and the clothes carrying bag on the table. She spent a few moments examining her face and makeup in the mirror and arranged her hair. Still checking herself, Mary started undressing, first removing her high heels. She took off her burgundy-color blazer jacket and used the dressing room hangers to store in on a wall hook. I watched intently as she unzipped her burgundy skirt, which had snugly fit her hips and reached down to about two inches above her knee. I wished Mary had worn shorter skirts as was the fashion of the day but I assumed she needed to be more conservative due to her public profession. She pulled down her skirt and I observed she was wearing a tan color, sheer-to-waist, Leggs pantyhose. She wore no panty underneath the pantyhose. It made sense that she wore a Leggs pantyhose since Mary was an official spokeswoman for Leggs pantyhose. I speculated that Leggs may have even provided Mary with a continual supply of free pantyhose. As long as Mary Hart continued to wear pantyhose she would be a walking advertisement for Leggs Sheer Energy pantyhose. Mary unbuttoned her blouse, pulled it off then hung it on a hangar. She unhooked her bra and slipped it off to reveal a perfect set of full, well-shaped silken skin, C-cup breasts. Round areoles, perhaps one-and-a half inch in diameter and only slightly darker than the rest of the skin, topped with light pink, rosebud nipples adorned each full breast.
Mary faced the wall mirror and checked herself. Her pantyhose were still on. The pantyhose tiny oval-shaped crotch panel covered her vulva. I observed though that Mary had trimmed off most of her pubic hair. There was only a scant, narrow strip of the barest pubic hair leading down her vulva. I realized she had a practical reason, wearing exercise leotards, swim wear, and maybe personal hygienic reasons. Many women trimmed their pubic hair back then for professional reasons, swimmers, dance show girls, models and strippers, and a few others for whom excess pubic hair might become embarrassingly visible at the wrong place and time. Mary finally pulled off her pantyhose and straightened out the nylon before laying it on the table. I saw a quick full view of her vulva. She had trimmed off so much pubic hair that her labia were barely covered with any pubic hair. Mary’s womanhood was as perfectly sensual as the rest of her. Her vulva resembled a gorgeous light pink peach cleavage, the labia lips full and tight together with nothing showing between the lips. I was aware of my own pulsing and throbbing erection, becoming uncomfortable with the hardness. More, I felt the sticky wetness of pre-cum soaking my underwear. I did not think to bring a spare briefs and I quickly realized the risk of ejaculating inside my underwear if I couldn’t control my physical arousal.
Mary Hart was totally nude and I can only describe her naked body as womanly perfection. I do not exaggerate. Her figure was as perfect as any artist painter, sculptor, or ordinary man could envision and hope for. She had it all, the beautiful face, hair, neck, shoulders, full breasts, hourglass figure, slender waist, hips, nice buttocks, her perfect, supple thighs and calves. Many beautiful women might still fall short in one aspect or another, but Mary Hart had it all and then some I would posture. And she was already thirty-eight years old. The thing about Mary’s body was that she had all the right curves in all the right dimensions, with nothing too little or too much. Her bodily dimensions were modestly full and sensual.
Mary Hart checked out her face and nude body in the mirror, turning to each side and then looking as her backside in the mirror. As she faced the hidden video camera, I noticed a long white string dangle between her thighs. It was her tampon, the string formerly curled up between the labia lips and now fallen down. She must have felt it too because she spread her feet apart some and bent her knees, reaching down to grasp the dangling cotton string. She pulled the string and I observed the tampon emerge from her vagina and slip completely out. Mary held up the slick, shiny, wet tampon by the string and moved to her purse. I saw the tampon was not red at all but still white, although soaked through with fluid and shiny reflecting the room light. I saw that Mary was a very clean woman who was fastidious with her feminine hygiene. Her free hand retrieved a bunch of tissue napkins. She carefully rolled the used tampon inside several tissues and wadded the whole into a ball and placed it inside the small, plastic trash container by the desk.
Mary retrieved a small, white, rectangular plastic container from her gym bag and I saw that it was some kind of body powder. She would deposit small amounts in the palms of her hands and proceed to lightly rub the powder over her skin. Mary rubbed the body powder on her breasts and lifted up both fleshy globes. She gently rubbed the pads of her fingertips over her aureoles and nipples. I saw her facing the mirror administered the body powder. She lightly rubbed the nipples and gently squeezed and rubbed them. My pulsating erection jumped inside my underwear briefs and the discomfort of so much blood locked up in the shaft became even more pronounced. So much pre-cum had flowed that my cock was sticking to the underwear. I had to shift my erection inside my pants and underwear to a more comfortable position but I refrained from masturbating. That was something I did not want to do publicly even though I was alone and unobserved. But I felt the growing pressure and congestion in my erection and in my testicles, the scrotum, or ball sack as best known. I was slightly worried but couldn’t take my attention away from the video monitor screen.
Mary applied body powder to her lower body. She rubbed the powder on her thighs and buttocks. I watched raptly as Mary spread her feet wide apart and bent over so she could rub body powder in her inner thighs, between her buttock cheeks, and on her vulva. I leaned in closer until my face was almost against the video monitor, eyes staring wide as Mary’s fingers reached between and rubbed her long labia lips. Her fingers spread the labia apart and her middle finger rubbed between the lips, over her vaginal opening and over her clitoris. I shifted uncomfortably on the work stool but the ensuing movement of my tortured, engorged penis against the clothing was too much. In the next second, I felt spurting inside my underwear as my gorged cock could no longer manage the excruciating arousal and unremitting strain. A flood of warm semen spilled out inundating my underwear briefs, flowing down the shaft, over my balls and into the thighs. It was a complete sopping mess. There was no way I could restrain the ejaculation and I didn’t even try. This was a first for me. The only time something like that had happened was during erotic wet dreams in my sleep.
Mary finished the body powder rubdown and unzipped her clothing bag. She reached in and pulled out a pantyhose whose brand I didn’t know. It appeared slightly thicker, was a light tan tone color and had no crotch gusset panel. I watched Mary lay out the pantyhose. She examined the material and smelled it. She was examining some part of the pantyhose and slightly shaking her head and muttering something. Mary then rolled the pantyhose up into a tight ball and placed it all the way down inside the same plastic trash container. She reached back into the clothes bag and pulled out an identical pantyhose. She examined the pantyhose and finding it satisfactory, sat on the desk chair to pull on the pantyhose. Next went on a light beige bra. Upon her body Mary donned a fuchsia color, one-piece leotard. Most aerobics leotards of the time resembled one-piece swimming suits. She pulled on red socks and white gym shoes. Mary spent a minute grooming, preening, and adjusting things while looking in the mirror. Finally satisfied with everything, she opened the door and departed. I heard the door closing.
Standing up, I strode over to the door, feeling the uncomfortable, soaked, squishing sensation in my underwear. Noiselessly opening the door, I peered out and watched Mary disappear down the walkway to the conference room. From there I knew they would all head over to the film studio set. I was confident they would take a lot of time watching Mary Hart demonstrate the basic aerobics steps of each part of the proposed exercise program. It wasn’t Mary’s intent to go through the entire, 40 minute basic aerobics exercise program but merely to show the essentials of each 20 minute segment. I closed the door and returned to the closet where I turned off the equipment. Everything went good. I felt sure the studio managers had even forgotten that I was even present. The few individuals present earlier in the day had departed, either for the rest of the day or for a late lunch. I had near total privacy. But I couldn’t continue with the sopping mess in my pants. More, wet stains might appear on my jeans. I pulled off my jeans then stripped off the soaking briefs. I balled up the soaked, sticky cotton briefs and found a discarded plastic bag to dump the mess into. After wiping myself clean, I would have to wear my jeans sans underwear.
My next opportunity awaited in the dressing room. I entered the dressing room, closing the door silently behind me. First I placed Mary’s purse on the table next to her clothing bag, intending to examine the contents of both. I wanted to retrieve Mary’s discarded pantyhose in the trash container but common sense advised me to wait until she departed the building lest she notice its absence by chance, arousing suspicion. The recently worn pantyhose lying on the table was another temptation but at least I enjoyed holding it, feeling the nylon, inspecting it, and smelling the material. I looked inside the pantyhose and smelled the crotch panel gusset. Mary was a very clean, hygienic woman and she had been wearing a tampon so the crotch panel appeared unsoiled except for a nice, appealing musky scent. The rest of the pantyhose bore a faint, perfumed smell. Reluctantly, I laid the pantyhose back on the table. My disappointment proved unnecessary however, as rummaging through Mary Hart’s purse and her clothing bag revealed a treasure trove.
Opening her purse immediately revealed several balled up pantyhose. I pulled out three, bunched and balled up, worn pantyhose. Delving deeper I discovered two more balled up pantyhose in the bottom corners of the purse, probably forgotten. The pantyhose were two nude colors and two tan colors and one, off-black color. I stuffed the two bottom pantyhose, a tan and the off-black, in my pockets. I kept one of the nude colors, intending to replace two into the purse. I speculated that Mary may not be keeping close track of her pantyhose and not notice the missing ones. I was stealing but because I didn’t take any money or valuables, I didn’t feel guilty. I didn’t consider Mary’s pantyhose to be valuables. She must be receiving innumerable free pantyhose from Leggs Pantyhose. Still sexually curious, I rummaged further.
Besides the expected numerous cosmetic products which I held no interest, I found Mary’s feminine hygiene toiletries and best of all, her birth control items. There were several, new tampons, panty liners, and sanitary napkins. There was a sealed pack of wet, scented disposable wipes for cleaning the female genital area. Among the rest I found a tube of vaginal cream which had been used. There was a plastic blister package of vaginal suppositories. Another blister plastic foil package contained spermicide vaginal suppositories. I found a clear plastic case contained the round cardboard plastic blisters of birth control pills. At the bottom of the purse I retrieved a small, blue plastic box. I lifted the plastic lid and saw Mary’s used diaphragm. Delighted, I took out her diaphragm and spend some time examining it close-up. It was clean yet still retained a slight musky scent. I really wanted to keep the diaphragm as a souvenir. Grudgingly I was about to place the diaphragm back when I noticed the blue case had another lid on the backside. I opened that lid and saw another diaphragm.
Excited, I kept the diaphragm and replaced the case into the purse. With luck, Mary won’t even notice the missing diaphragm for a long time. She’ll retrieve the case and open the top lid which has a diaphragm inside. At the bottom of the purse I found the used tube of spermicidal cream meant for diaphragm usage. Rifling around the purse I discovered several packages of male condoms. I found three, small cardboard boxes, and an unboxed strip of three condoms which I could observe through the green, translucent plastic film. I contemplated that Mary paid much attention to her feminine hygiene and much more attention to her sexual hygiene and reproductive control needs. The evidence was in abundance that Mary must be enjoying a very active sex life.
The male condoms confirmed my speculation. All of the condoms were of high quality brands and exceptional synthetic lightweight materials, ensuring a feeling like natural skin, according to the advertisement on the packages. What’s more, the condoms were of varying size to accommodate male penises of differing width and girth. Besides the average sized condoms, one of the packs bore the title, for the larger, endowed man. Indeed, the unboxed strip of three condoms showed the polymer ring would fit around a man’s penis of wide diameter. I puzzled. Wasn’t Mary Hart married? Why would she carry condoms of different sizes? I returned the condoms into the purse after making a mental note of the brands and types. So very fascinating, I would relish knowing the full story behind Mary’s condom assortment.
I placed everything back neatly inside the purse as best as I found it. The worn pantyhose were last but I wanted to examine those first. I unraveled one, a tan color. I felt and sniffed the cotton crotch panel. It bore stains from her vagina and smelled strongly musk. The second pantyhose was a nude color. I felt the material and inspected the crotch panel. This was different and I felt the electricity of excitement go through me. The material felt stiff and the smell was very distinctive and odorous. Feeling the stiff, starchy surface, I quickly surmised the crotch panel was infused with dried semen, judging by inspection, originally a lot of semen by whoever deposited it inside Mary’s vagina. The timing must have been some occasion, probably still in the daytime where Mary had to get dressed, possibly a second time, in some hurry to go somewhere. She must have worn the pantyhose with her man’s semen soaking the crotch, the better part of the day.
Suddenly taking mental note, I retrieved the three pantyhose souvenirs from my pocket and spread out all three for closer examination. One pantyhose was from the top of the purse. Besides noticing a small run in one of the legs, the crotch panel bore a small musky stain. One of the pantyhose from the bottom corner, a tan color, also had been soaked with seminal fluid, some time ago. The crotch panel had long since dried in a crumpled up semi-ball and it gave off tiny, crackling sounds when I flattened out the material, arising from the dried starches of the seminal fluid breaking. The pantyhose also smelled, but even though it was bad, it turned me on. The third pantyhose was off-black. It was my most fun discovery and prize. I spread open the material and saw that the crotch panel had been neatly snipped open, most likely from a scissors judging by the neatly-cut material edges. The insides of the snipped crotch panel were stiff and speckled by starchy substance, no doubt seminal fluid. I was excited by this discovery and I longed to know how it came about. I assumed Mary and her man, whoever he was, enjoyed a fun, sexually kinky moment and I could tell the man loved her pantyhose. The off-black color indicated possibly nightclub or party celebration attire and I wonder if that was part of it. Another thought surfaced in the darkly imaginative part of my brain. But what if it was something else? What if some other guy had overpowered Mary and grabbed a scissors, snipped open her pantyhose and proceeded to rape her, the resulting snipped open crotch panel now allowing easy access of his engorged cock through the nylon and into her vagina. The lack of a panty or a thong barrier made sexual insertion so much easier for him. Anything was possible I pondered.
I returned the purse to the desk then turned to the clothes bag. The contents proved as exciting as the purse. I counted a number of exercise leotards and several exercise pantyhose. The exercise pantyhose were really shiny tights due to the larger lycra content which made the material thicker and more durable. Some of the tights were worn and some were still fresh. There were at least ten tights in the bag, mostly of the same nude or light tan color. I cherry picked three, worn tights for my Mary Hart souvenir collection. There were enough leotards that I was certain she wouldn’t miss the one I pulled from the bottom of the clothes bag. The bag contained feminine hygiene toiletry items as the purse. Mary came prepared. Rummaging further, I pulled out a small, rectangular dark pink plastic case. Lifting the lid, I peered down at what looked to be three, ivory-colored balls, about one-inch in diameter apiece. A thin nylon cord the thickness of a shoelace threaded through the middle of each ivory ball and connected all three together. The ivory balls gave off a strong musky odor and I recognized the balls for what they were, pleasure balls made out of expensive ivory for insertion and retention in the vagina. The movement of the balls inside the vagina during normal activity or pelvic muscle exercise stimulated the vaginal wall nerve endings. By now I was not surprised as it was part of Mary’s sexual life which I secretly knew was active. I just didn’t know when or where Mary employed her pleasure balls, which I would have enjoyed knowing. I resisted the urge to confiscate Mary’s vaginal stimulation balls. She would have definitely noticed their absence.
I chanced one more search of the clothes gym bag. My hand rummaged around and in a corner I felt a balled-up used pantyhose that I pulled out. It was a shiny, tan, Leggs Sheer Energy pantyhose which judging by its odor had been lying in the clothes bag for a while. Yet the pantyhose felt differently and smelled more. After unrolling the pantyhose flat, I observed the crotch panel had been snipped open at the middle. Something was inside the pantyhose. Looking through the snipped crotch panel lay a crumpled up used condom. My fingers were dirty already and my curiosity was aroused. I retrieved the condom and held it up to unravel the thin, translucent latex. It was one of those expensive brands, the type advertised as feeling like nothing. The diameter of the condom lip indicated a size large. The male user had been a well- endowed man in length as well. More the amount of seminal fluid filled far past the reservoir tip to almost one-quarter of the condom length. Mary’s sex partner had been a particularly virile man. But I didn’t know why the used condom had not been disposed of and why it still remained inside the pantyhose. The story behind Mary’s snipped-open Sheer Energy pantyhose and the mystery man’s large size condom would be a delectable tale to know.
I couldn’t be sure when the pantyhose crotch panel was snipped open and a large, condom-covered penis went through it into her vagina but the seminal fluid had time to congeal into a firm jelly substance. I wondered who the man was. I had a hunch it was not her husband. But to the public’s knowledge, Mary Hart was squeaky clean. There were no salacious stories about her in the news past and present. Mary’s clothes gym bag contained a large number of pantyhose, many worn except for a few fresh ones. I snaffled up several worn ones, judging to leave just enough behind to allay any suspicions. Once again, I hoped that Mary wasn’t the kind to keep tight track of her pantyhose inventory if she was receiving generous, free replacements from Leggs Pantyhose as long as she remained a spokeswoman for their brand.
I replaced everything in the room as I found it and returned to the equipment room. While awaiting Mary’s return, I suddenly realized that I could place an audio microphone against the wall and record anything she might say. This turned out to be a smart move. I spent time tending to the stored audio and visual equipment in the equipment room.
The conference and aerobics demonstration continued for some two hours. Finally the meeting concluded. I waited till I heard faint footsteps approaching signaling me to switch on the video camera and audio microphone then the rest of the recording equipment. My excitement was high and I needed to control my breathing. On the television camera screen I watched Mary Hart enter the dressing room. She stood looking at her mirror reflection, checking her face and hair. The exertions of the past several hours wore on her. She looked very tired and her face lacked makeup. She had been perspiring and her hair looked flatter on her head. Next she pulled off her fashion white sneakers and the red socks. Mary reached for a small towel to wipe her face and neck. I eagerly awaited to see her undress to nude again.
The sound of knocking came at the dressing room door. I heard the muffled voice of a man behind the door. Mary must have recognized who it was since she opened the door and greeted the visitor. A bare-chested, athletically fit man entered the room and I instantly recognized him. The visitor was Trey Terrell, a former free safety from one of the NFL football teams. Trey Terrell had just recently retired at the ripe age of 28 from professional football. It does not take long for the rigors and injuries of professional football to wear down pro-footballers these days. Trey led a remarkably successful career in the NFL, his record of interceptions, interceptions back to touchdowns, and timely tackles of opposing running backs broken through to the backfield meant the difference for victory of his team.
Trey Terrell is a handsome bi-racial, or more accurately, multi-racial man. Decades ago he would have been described as a black man, but today that description is not accurate. Trey is more a white man with a light, caramel skin tone, blue-green eyes, chiseled facial features and distinctive cheekbones. His head was completely shaven and yet it looked natural for him. He had often posed for magazines and advertisements and as a light-skinned young black man, had been popular with young women of all races. But here he was, in the dressing room with Mary Hart. Trey was dressed for exercise and it dawned on me that he was invited to the conference to participate in the aerobics exercise video.
I strained to hear their conversation. As I thought, Trey was to be in the background with two other women while Mary remained in the front as the aerobics demonstrator. In the course of their conversation, I detected open flirting between them. Trey was more obviously attracted and turned on to Mary than the other way around. There was some reference to a recent luncheon that Trey attended with Mary at her invitation. Glancing at the video monitor I saw Trey standing close to Mary, his left hand rubbing her shoulder and upper arm. Mary seemed nonchalant, smiling and speaking with Trey. I heard them discussing the possibility of an interview with Trey. It appeared Mary had asked Trey before but he was reticent. Mary was asking Trey once more, throwing in her feminine charm and imploring him, allowing Trey to move in closer to her. I listened to Trey complimenting Mary Hart on her blonde hair, her blue green eyes, her porcelain skin, shapely figure and perfect legs. Trey was expressing his admiration of Mary’s body and feminine assets in words, terms, and expressions that were clearly over the line into the personal and the sexual. Still, Mary took it all in with smiles and appeared unfazed by the growing sexual nature of Trey’s compliments. If she was employing her feminine charms to persuade a reluctant interview prospect, it seemed to be working. The wall kept me from hearing their conversation clearly but I could make out the gist of it. Trey had come around to assenting to an interview with Mary, which clearly delighted her.
On the video monitor I watched as Mary reached up to hug Trey. She was clearly happy, almost giddy that famous, NFL free safety Trey Terrell had consented to a televised studio interview. It became clear that booking Trey for the rare interview was going to be a career scoop for her. She gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. I watched as Trey rubbed her back, letting his right hand slid down over her buttocks which he began gently but firmly fondling and squeezing. Mary was still happily thanking Trey and talking about what a great interview it was going to be while she patted his shoulder and back. It looked like she was ignoring his fondling or letting it happen as a sign of her career gratitude and personal appreciation for his help with her professional career advancement. Trey was conversing with Mary too, repeating her own enthusiasm for the future interview and acknowledging the help he was giving to her professional career. By now both of his hands were fondling Mary’s buttocks. His hands slipped furtively under her leotard and continued squeezing and groping her buttock cheeks clad only in the exercise pantyhose. Mary was allowing Trey to feel her up.
Trey started kissing Mary on the lips, only lightly at first with quick pecks, taking her by surprise. But his kisses quickly became firmer. It was at that point that Mary tried to put the brakes on and excuse herself for getting dressed to go home. But Trey was having none of it. The train had, so to speak, left the station. He pressed her firmer and securely against himself and kissed her more passionately with his mouth open. Like a polite lady, Mary tried to desist, futilely trying to push him away and trying to avoid his kisses, protesting vainly but ineffectively against his strength and lust. Trey held the back of her head as he pressed his open mouth over hers and thrust his tongue deeply inside. Surprisingly Mary did not bite his tongue or lip, nor did she try to strike or claw Trey but just kept trying to futilely push him away. I hear her muffled, gagging sounds of the forced French kiss. I listened closely and hear them.
(Mary) Trey, please, no, please, please nooo…we can’t do this. I’m already married. I need to get undressed, get changed so I can go home.
(Trey) Being married don’t need to stop you, missy. You been flirtin’ with me and I know you wouldn’t mind being with me. You don’t need to pretend, baby.
(Mary) Trey, wait, wait, please, oh please, no wait…where did you get that idea I’m flirting. I’m just happy we’re going to get to work together. No, no, don’t…(muffled sounds of French kissing, some gagging, more slurping noises of tongues.)
(Trey) Hey look, baby, you just can’t flirt and cock-tease me big time like that and walk away. You want something from me and I want something from you.
(Mary) Trey, please listen to me. I am married to a man that I plan to stay with and start a family with soon. Please stop doing this with me. I can’t…you shouldn’t do this to me…it’s not proper and…mmmpphh (sounds of French kissing, slurping, aahh, slight gag, more tonguing).
Trey suddenly spun Mary Hart around. He grabbed the shoulder edges of her leotard and pulled it off her shoulders, exposing her bared breasts.
(Mary) (gasping), What? Oh my gawd, no! Oh no, oh nooo! Trey, please stop, please stop, please don’t…my leotard…don’t take it off of me, please stop, please!
Mary made no move to neither resist physically nor escape but she did clearly not want Trey to strip her. Trey pulled Mary’s leotard down over her hips and yanked it off her feet. He tossed the leotard aside and wrapped his arms around her. He cupped her breasts with both hands, then began squeezing, fondling, and groping the white fleshy globes. Sounds of pleasure uttered from his mouth.
(Mary) Trey, stop, please stop will you? Oh no, no, no, nooooo. (sounds of low, controlled sobbing from Mary, as if she does not want to be heard outside the room) Trey, please stop fondling and groping my breasts, please, no, oh no. (low sobbing)
Why are you doing to me, Trey? What gives you the right to strip me, fondle my body, forcibly French kiss me like this. (low sobs and sighing)
Oh my gawd, Trey. Please, please be careful with me. Don’t put any marks on my face and my neck. I can’t be seen like that in public. I’m not resisting because I don’t want to be hurt and marked. Just don’t hurt me, pleeeease, Trey, don’t hurt me, please I beg of you.
(Trey) You don’t get it, baby, do you. You just want to flirt and cock-tease guys to get what you want? Yeah, baby. I’ll do the interview you want because I know just how badly you want me on your show ‘cause I can tell you need me. I know what’s going on. You want me to help your career. If I’m going to do you a big favor then I want what’s mine in return.
(Mary) (sighing and sob) You professional athletes are alike, Trey. I’ve been raped seven times already and it’s all from you pro jocks who take anything you want from women and you think you’re entitled to it.
(Trey) I get it, baby. I ‘ain’t stupid. You haven’t said anything to the cops because you don’t want any public scandal that’s going to hurt your career. I know of chicks like you. Your career means everything to you and you’ll do anything and put up with anything to protect your job and good name. You wanna advance your career so bad you’ll do anything and keep quiet about everything ‘cause your career is everything to you and more, ‘ain’t it, bitch?
(Mary) Everything, Trey.
It was true, Mary wasn’t struggling in the least. She simply stood there resigning herself to being fondled and groped. Mary stopped what little sobbing she was doing and periodically just uttered sniffs and sighs. Trey relished fondling Mary’s C cup breasts; he also gently pinched and pulled her rosebud pink nipples till they stiffened and pointed out. Trey lowered his right hand to her abdomen and rubbed enthusiastically on the pantyhose. His hand crept under the pantyhose waistband to grope her vulva where upon Mary let out a loud gasp. Trey used his foot to push Mary’s feet shoulder width apart so his hand could fully press upon her fleshly labia lips. His fingers rubbed the fleshy folds up and down then spread them apart to feel the inner flesh and the vaginal opening. Mary groaned and sighed while Trey probed and felt up her womanhood, his fingers between her long labia lips, slipping two fingers into her vagina to explore the moistening feminine sheath.
(Trey) Hmmmm. This feels so nice and tight, babe. Makes me wonder, baby, how many hard, stiff cocks have been inside this wet, tight tunnel of love so far?
(Mary) Uhhh, mmm. Go fuck yourself, Trey. None of your damn business.
(Trey) Oh c’mon, tell me, sweetheart. Who else is going to know? I wanna know. This is fuckin’ turn on for me. Impress me, baby. It ain’t no mystery. A lot of guys must have wanted you. I’m sure you enjoyed the pick of the best. You ain’t the type that don’t like sex, I know it.
(Mary) Uh, mmmm. Go to hell, Trey. I’m not going to tell you how many men I’ve made love to . That’s personal and I’m not going to tell you. I can’t have the public knowing anything about my personal sex life. I have a public image to maintain. I already mentioned and shouldn’t have, about the seven times I’ve been rape-fucked by you psycho professional jocks. It’s not enough you guys fucked me without my consent but they fucked me hard and caused me to orgasm against my will.
(Trey) Oh wow! I’m hearing the real Mary Hart, now. You’re a real fuckin’ freaky bitch, babe. Oh man you get me hard. Now I really gotta know how many dudes enjoyed you.
(Mary) Don’t call me a fucking bitch, Trey. Fuck you. You’ve got your hands on my breasts and inside my pussy. I don’t have to…oowww! That hurt! Oowww! No, no, please. Oh fuck, Trey, do you really have to know this about me. (sobs, moans, groans) Alright! Alright already! You really wanna know? Oh dammit… (groans, moans), what the hell…okay, okay. I think I’ve had sex with, with, uh, umm, maybe about thirty guys, including the guys who raped me.
(Trey) That is so fuckin’ hot, baby. I figured you for one hot, lovin’ white bitch. I know it, honey. Your pussy is already soakin’ wet. I’m so hot for you, gorgeous. Wow, what’s this? I’m checkin’ some jizz inside your pussy.
(Mary) I’ll bet you are. Oh my gawd. Since you really want to go there, listen, I’ve had sex with my husband earlier today. Satisfied? We didn’t use birth control. Ohhh! Omigawd, what? What? You’re pulling off my pantyhose tights.
I observed Trey grasp Mary’s exercise pantyhose waistband and pull it down off her hips and buttocks. Trey kissed both buttock cheeks, adding loving wide-mouthed bites and licks on the smooth, creamy pale skin. He pulled the pantyhose off her feet and left it on the floor. Pushing Mary forward, he leaned her over the table and spread her feet apart. Mary had long labia lips that formed a seductive, peach cleft almost five inches long. Trey was obsessed with Mary’s pussy. He rubbed and groped her labia, next spreading the labia wide apart to expose her vagina. His fingertips rubbed over the glistening, wet vaginal rim and opening. Pressing his fingertips and thumb further, he opened the vaginal sheath into an open moist tunnel. Mary grunted and groaned at his forcible probing. He peered inside her vaginal tunnel, inspecting the glistening, slick, wet, rippled pink, carnal flesh. Peering closer he gazed at the shiny, raised mound of flesh with a dimple in the middle, her cervix. Trey inwardly marveled that Mary’s cervix resembled the tip of a penis. But that was true of all cervixes. For a moment he reflected on the thirty or so cocks that enjoyed passage through that sensual, carnal tunnel of sex. The thought intensified his lust. Inserting two fingers the entire length inside her vagina, he felt around the slippery tunnel walls. When his fingers emerged there was abundant pussy fluid and remaining semen on his fingers. Mary’s vagina was leaking fluids.
Trey hurriedly tugged down his spandex shorts which sported a large, cylindrical bulge at the front. He ran into slight difficulty when the shorts caught on the tip of his erection but at length he extricated himself and at last stood tall, naked, and ready. Trey sported a thick, about nine-inch long erection of impressive width. His cock proudly and hungrily stood out at a rising angle, almost completely straight. From the large helmet tip, drooled a stream of pre-cum.
(Trey) This is what I have for you, babe!
Mary had been on her elbows. She lifted up on one arm and solemnly gazed backward at Trey’s engorged, tumescent manhood.
(Mary) That’s a big one, Trey. All you black men are big.
Trey pressed forward, inserting the tip directly into her vagina. He waited for a few moments, taking several breaths and looking down, the tip completely buried inside her vagina. Taking a deep breath he slid the entire shaft into Mary’s vagina as far as it could go, until the cervix blocked any further progress. Trey still had a few more inches to go. Mary closed her eyes and lowered her head, uttering a long sigh.
Trey began sexing Mary. His wide erection stretched Mary’s vagina tightly around the gorged shaft. Mary grunted and sighed at the deep thrusts that uncomfortably stretched her vagina beyond its normal limits. Trey pressed in deeply and levered the tip over the cervix for deeper insertion until he could almost bury the entire shaft length within Mary’s womanhood. Mary gasped and moaned at the incredibly insertion giving her an astonishing ‘filled full’ sensation. (Lengthy sounds of sexual intercourse, slicking, sticking sounds, balls slapping flesh-not too fast, though.) This continued for a short time. Then Trey pulled out. He grabbed Mary Hart by the shoulders and pulled her up, startling her. She was only able to communicate, ‘what’ before he spun her around to face him. Mary looked up at him, startled and confused. She reached down and easily grasped his wet thick erection in her hand. Mary pleaded plaintively.
(Mary) Don’t hurt me with this, okay, Trey?
He easily lifted the trim, 5 feet, 6 inches woman and placed her upon the table, pushing the gym clothes bag off the edge. He climbed onto the table, spread her thighs apart and mounted her, taking Mary in the missionary position. Her vulva was coated with slick, glistening, sticky, slimy vaginal fluid, hours-old, remnants of seminal fluid, and pre-cum fluid. The labia lips were already thickened and swollen and her vagina still partially open from the sexing. Into this turgid carnal womanhood, Trey plunged his engorged penis once again, shaft deep. Trey wrapped his muscular arms around the blonde woman’s arms and body, clutching her tightly to him as he resumed French kissing her and thrusting his manhood deep in and out of her femininity, her carnal flesh stretching apart to grasp his male hardness.
(Sounds: moaning, groaning, sighing; French kissing slurping, sucking sounds; sounds of sex-slick, sliding sucking sounds of a hard cock sliding in and out of a tight but wet vagina; sounds of flesh slapping flesh-the male scrotum slapping against her butt cheeks. Tapping sounds should be slower and more rhythmic in accordance with the man’s in and out movements. Sounds of bodies moving.) Keep doing this for one minute.
(Mary) (moans, sighs, groans, sob) Uhhh…so huge, too wide, Trey…stretching me too much. Black men are just too large. I feel so filled up.
(Sounds of wet sexual intercourse.)
(Trey) Hmmm, ahhhh, yeah, baby, so tight and wet. You like it, don’t you. Don’t pretend…big cock makes you like it more. Sooo, I ain’t the first brother you’ve enjoyed. When was the first?
(Sounds of wet sexual intercourse.)
(Mary) Uhhh, ohhh, no, omigawd, no, ahhhh. No. You aren’t the first black man. Several years ago the same thing happened to me. A black professional athlete I was interviewing in his hotel room raped me. He didn’t even bother taking off my pantyhose. He just ripped the crotch open to let his penis go through. He was so huge. (Sob) He hurt me. My vagina wasn’t used to his large cock. He pushed in so hard and wide that his penis hurt my vagina. His cock stretched my vagina apart so much and it wasn’t the same afterwards. He permanently changed my vagina by stretching it so far open. My fiancé could even feel the difference afterwards, since he’s a white man. But that black athlete made me orgasm even though it hurt so much. I didn’t believe it was possible to feel so much pleasure and pain at the same time. That’s why later on a few black men I met in my business seduced me and I let them. I wanted to experience that overwhelming feeling of arousal and orgasm and pain. The pain seems to make the orgasm pleasure greater. I prefer white men, you know, they make me cum too but they don’t have the penis size to cause those more intense orgasms inside me.
(Trey) Wow, baby, that is so hot. I like that. (Sounds of wet, slippery sex.) Do this for 30 seconds.
(Mary) (moaning, sighs, groans, sounds of approaching climax). Ah, ah, oh, oh, umm, ahhh. Omigawd…it’s coming. I feel it…you’re going to make me orgasm, Trey. I’m being raped hard. You’re raping me, Trey…fucking me so hard you’re going to make me cum. I can’t stop it, no way. It’s coming. I don’t know why…you can rape me and fuck me hard and make me orgasm still. Huhhhhh. Why does this happen to me? How can I let something like this be so pleasurable? Oh, gawd, Trey, you’re squeezing my breasts so hard, please not so much. Oh, owww, no, please, Trey, don’t bite my nipples hard like that. Ahhh, ohhh, hummmm, I feel it coming. Dammit, Trey. Just do it! Finish it! Finish me! Just do it to me! (orgasm approaching audibly)
(Sounds of vigorous, wet, slick sex, balls slapping, French kissing.)
(Mary) (Climaxing then orgasming very audibly and very long, make a lot of sounds)
(Sounds of sex)
(Mary) Aahh, oh wait, wait, oh no, please, Trey, wait, please, you’re about to cum inside my pussy, wait, please, pull out and shoot on me. Not inside please, Trey. I can’t risk getting pregnant. It will be a scandal if I give birth to your black baby.
(Trey) Yeah, sure I’ll pull out. (He doesn’t. More sounds of sex and Trey orgasms, ejaculating his semen deep inside her).
(Mary) Trey, you came inside me! You ejaculated a lot inside me. I don’t want to get pregnant.
(Trey) What’s the difference, sweet babes? You know you like the feel of warm cum inside you.
Trey extricated himself and dismounted the table. He found his spandex shorts and pulled it on. He finished dressing while Mary remained on the table, sitting up and examining her womanhood with dismay. Her swollen labia lips remained partly apart revealing her open vagina, semen flowing freely out. Trey’s pent-up lust found its gratification. Trey scooped up Mary’s worn exercise pantyhose and her leotard but he held on to it.
(Mary) What? You’re taking my leotard and pantyhose?
(Trey) Souvenirs, babe. Thanks much for the good time. I’ll always remember. Now I know how much you really appreciate black guys, even if you don’t want to admit it.
(Mary) I already admitted to you that black men have the large penises that make me orgasm even though you guys hurt my vagina. But I want white men only. I’m married to one. I plan on starting my family as soon as I make sure you don’t get me pregnant, Trey.
(Trey) Well, Mary, I think we understand one another. You expect me to fill my end of the bargain. No sweat, sweet babes. I’ll see you at the studio next week for the interview, just as we agreed.
(Mary) I’m counting on it, Trey.
Trey left the room quietly. Mary got off the table. She spent some time cleaning herself up fastidiously. She was prepared. The gym clothing bag contained towels, skin cleansers, lemon-scented disposable wet wipes. She wiped clean her entire face and body. Pulling forward the waste basket, she straddled it and squatted slightly. I watched as Mary pulled her labia apart and let the semen drain into the waste basket. The bottom of the waste basket was already filled with used tissues and towelettes which absorbed the fluid. Afterwards, she applied a douche and cleansed her vagina. She wiped her genital area with copious tissues. Finished, Mary proceeded to dress herself with the same outfit she wore walking into the studio. But she would never been seen in public without makeup. Mary spent a few minutes quickly applying enough makeup to look presentably glamorous. Gathering herself up, she walked out the dressing room door. Mary Hart did not look the least fazed by the past hour’s events.
The above story was written by a client of mine for a custom recording they wanted made. I did not write it, nor do I claim to. I asked for permission to post it and was told I could for others to enjoy it. No one else has permission to copy it or post it.
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