CHAPTER TEN
Karen was grateful there had been a lunch break after they had finished taping the show that had been interrupted. It had given her a chance to recuperate from the morning's fuckings. She had drunk most of her lunch.
Now she sat behind the podium, the warm glow of the liquor conning through her veins. Mingling with it was a simmering dedication to the downfall of the oozing MC, his assistant, the producer, the ad man, and anyone else who got in her way. Overriding everything was a hot horniness that was making her cunt drool in anticipation.
Because of the changed schedule, there was only a minuscule live audience just a few ghastly faces beyond the bright lights. Probably they were the handpicked cronies of the producer. Everyone seemed to be anticipating an orgiastic ending to the day.
Little did they know just how orgiastic it was going to be. Karen was ready and loose, her snatch honed and ready. Every time she caught sight of Bernstein, back in the control room, her lust and fury boiled higher.
At the beginning of the lunch break, he had tried to get her to go up to the control room, but she had refused. She had managed to do it so that, instead of getting mad, he was looking forward to a hot time later. He had suggested she find a bra to wear. She had looked down at her chest and jiggled her titties up and down gently. It was very arousing, the way her knockers joggled. Her tits burned against her blouse. She had ignored his suggestion about the bra.
Now, as the final show was taped, she was firing off the answers confidently. Her opponent seemed stunned, and more interested in the lush curves of her figure than anything else. Well, he could have a shot at her, too, when it was all over. He deserved a consolation prize, Karen decided.
She felt her partner sliding his hand up under her skirt, and let her legs ease open. His fingers slid into her hot, oozing twat while the glassy eyes of a camera focused on her smiling face. Indulgently, she let the out-of-work actor pump his fingers in her dripping cunt. Then she eased a hand over into his lap. He grinned at her, as if he was proud of her for answering a question. What he was grinning about, really, was her grip on his pecker. She had freed it from his pants.
Pretending to scratch her throat, Karen unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. She could feel the hot eye of a TV camera on her. She thought of stripping naked in front of millions of watchers, and her cunt spewed hot lust. She squirmed in her chair. Her excitement built as she let herself be fondled, while she stroked the lean prick of her celebrity partner. Her tits were hard and hot and more sensitive than a safecracker's fingertips as they stroked the sensuous weave of her blouse.
Peter Sandier looked at her expectantly, waiting for her answer. His eyes lighted on her generous titties, the gap in her blouse. The suave MC wallowed hard, licked his lips. His prick surged to prominence in his tight pants. Karen saw the producer say something to the director, saw the director relay it to someone else. The cameraman that covered Sandier nodded, grinned slightly, and domed in closer to the host. The word had been passed, evidently, to cut Sandier off at the waist so his hard-on wouldn't be broadcast coast to cost. At the same time, a longer lens had been rotated into position on the camera covering Karen, taking just her head, cutting off the opening in her blouse and her titties.
Karen unbuttoned another button, the one well below her tits. She let the blouse open to show the inner curves of her generous jugs. She felt the heat of the lights on the valley between her knockers. She sensed the erotic tensions created by her calculated display, and her twat began to boil.
Bernstein said something to the technical director, who shook his head. Bernstein picked up a phone and talked heatedly into it, then slammed it don and yelled something at the director. The camera moved in still closer on Karen and Sandier. Karen realized suddenly that she was getting help she hadn't expected. Obviously, Bernstein had wanted to stop the taping, but someone down in videotape had refused. There were no more commercials scheduled, either. The taping had to go on, no matter what she did!
Karen fought down a tight chuckle. She wondered how they were going to show the flashing numbers that recorded her score. The numbers were on her podium. To show them they would have to show more of her than the Federal Communications System would allow, because she had just unbuttoned the last button on her blouse.
She watched the MC's eyes bulge out as she eased the blouse back off her shoulders. She took a deep breath. Her titties rose and fell as she breathed. Her opponent looked like he was about to faint. His actress partner looked frankly envious.
Without batting an eye, without giving a hint of the lust that was raging through her, Karen answered the last question. The director managed to key the right sound and light effects, and Karen was bathed in a psychedelic eruption. She began unfastening her skirt. The actor sitting beside her was the only one who could see what she was doing, and he looked like he couldn't believe his eyes.
Peter Sandier was looking around frantically, hoping for direction. At this point in a normal taping he had the winner stand beside him. Then the wheel of fortune was spun for the jackpot. Desperately, he looked at the control booth, hoping for an indication of what he was supposed to do. He couldn't ask her to get up. She was naked to her waist! Right there, in front of the cameras and a live studio audience.
Karen was aware of a desperate flurry in the control room. Bernstein was hiding his head in his hands. The director's eyes were fastened on her naked titties. The technical director was the calmest one in the glass booth. The ad man was grinning hotly and expectantly at her.
Finally, not knowing what else to do, Sandier announced she was the winner and called her over to the wheel of fortune. Karen smiled. Her smile was hot with lust, cold with cruelty. She stood up, and her skirt fell around her ankles. Gracefully, she stepped out of her skirt, then out from behind the podium. She was wearing only her smile, her make-up, and her sandals.
Some when backstage, something dropped with a loud clatter. Shanda McAleer leaned back against the set. It swayed ominously. Karen's opponent's eyes were as big as saucers. She caroused in front of him, her titties joggling enticingly. Her pussy was steaming with lust as the hot lights burned her naked cunt.
The blank eyes of the cameras followed her with moronic devotion, focusing on her head only. She thought Sandier was going to have a heart attack.
And still the show went on. Karen kept expecting to hear a bellow from the control room, but there was nothing. Her guts were a puddle of boiling lust. She was burning up with excitement. All those eyes on her naked body! She could see vaguely that the audience was on their feet, leaning forward, watching her. She pond for them. She was proud of her sensuous curves, her generous tilt, the swell of her hips, the lush brown of her muff.
Sandier stood like a statue. She eased up next to him and guided his arm around bet naked waist. She nuzzled his chest with one of her big tits. She grinned up at him, and stroked his prick through his pants, then managed to get his fly open and free his pecker.
The MC was frantically hurrying through the closing routine of the show, desperately clinging to the carefully memorized lines. He explained the wheel while Shanda stood there next to it like a mindless mannequins. Her eyes kept returning to Karen's wanton display, a searing hunger in her looks.
The wheel turned and the lights fished. Karen jiggled with excitement. Her titty rubbed against the MC's chest, and she squeezed his cock in her hot little hand. For a few moments, most of the attention in the studio was on the rotating, rigged game of chance. Her twat drooling, Karen watched the wheel spin. The pie wedges of light flashed garishly, the ring of lights around the outside flickered crazily. It began to slow, and Karen held her breath.