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Chrissie Bentley has been interviewed! Click here to read interview.

"Please! Shoot it into my mouth."

And I was still wondering whether I'd said that out loud, or if the thought merely echoed in my head, when I felt him flex, push and pause. Then heat, texture, taste, my mouth filledto overflowing with his come, while his cock pistoned into my throat as though pushing the stuff into my throat.

I loved it. Everything. The sudden shock, the flash of flavor, the flood. The gooey-ness that clung to my tongue and teeth, the trickling overflow that I could feel leaking out between his cock and my lips. The sound he made as his balls emptied out, half moan, half cry, and buried somewhere within, a long breathy "fuuuuuuck." The way his cock bucked as it bathed in the dam-burst of sperm that I had no choice but to swallow down, to make room (I hoped) for more of the same.

And then I stopped wondering because I was coming too, crying out around the thick shaft that still glided in and out, swallowing and laughing at the same time, and gripping his ass cheeks with taut fingers.

He pulled out and knelt to kiss me; I shifted on my knees, parted my legs as his hand roamed up my inner thigh, then lay back as his head dipped towards my still pulsing cunt. And this time I did speak, loud and deliberately.

"Suck my clit. Hard."

——

The soundstage lights were already going down as my agent Angie and I walked towards the red lettered glow of the exit. We were discussing... I don't remember what. Probably something to do with the production. Or not. It doesn't matter. At the door, the old security guy, James, nodded a goodnight and I turned towards my trailer. If I didn't get out of this costume, and rid myself of this head dress, I was going to explode.

A figure stepped out of the shadows. "Angie? Matt from Triple Exposure. You said...."

"I know," she said, adopting that tone of insufferable weariness she employed whenever she had bad news to deliver. "But I don't think...."

"What?" I asked.

"I forgot to tell you. I told Matt you might give him an interview before the gala, but after a day like today...." Her voice trailed off, as though I had just emerged from the most hellish experiences imaginable, and I thought of playing along. At the same time, though, it's fun to fuck with Angie, just to remind her that I am capable of making my own decisions occasionally.

Plus, he was cute. Plus, he was wearing a promo T-shirt from my last-but-one movie. Plus, it would be interesting to do an interview with a live human being, rather than a pixellated blogger with a freebie Zoom account.

"What time do we have to be at... this thing?" I don't know why the studio felt it so imperative that I entertain this stupid charity bash; I'd certainly have preferred to spend the evening in the tub with a book. But Angie had insisted, and this was my opportunity to get back at her.

"The limo's picking us up at 9."

I glanced at my watch. "It's only 7 now. Matt?" I glanced over. "Do you want to do it now?"

Angie was about to speak, so I pressed on. "Tell me about this magazine you write for?"

He delved into the rucksack he was carrying and pulled out a copy, handing it to me as we walked. "Actually, I own it. I've been doing it nearly five years now. We're in all the big chains... a few drugstores as well. I suppose you'd say we cover cult movies, but I'm more

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