Wanted

One summer day, femme fatale star Joan Severance, sauntered out of the colonnaded portico moving towards the lap pool of her post-modern California dig. She disrobed her blue terry exposing a whistle bait figure that kept late night viewers of major cable TV networks, HBO and Cinemax abreast and abuttock of her delectable beauty.

The brunette goddess knifed through the water and made more than 30 laps in the pool, a regimen of her aerobic fitness. When she climbed out of the pool, the water cascaded on her luscious boobs, narrow waist, swell hips, and down her endless limbs. She hitched up her light cedar blue thong bikini making a clear cut outline of her sex that hot-blooded American male viewers would give their left balls just to fuck her.

Usually she bakes herself in the sun for 30 minutes or so with cucumber over her eyes but this time she wanted to see the headline of the morning newspaper. Her maid rolled in a trolley with her breakfast, consisting of strawberries, healthy bread, her favorite cheese and orange juice.

She took off her swimsuit, toweled herself dry then put on back her robe. She sat on a chair, rested her feet on another and read the front page news.

For the last three days she had been curiously following the news about Taylor Maguire-- the man who died four years ago leaving millions to his widowed wife and finally was found alive. Taylor Maguire was a lawyer said to have embezzled $100M from his law firm and faked his death to which he was now facing multiple charges that would land him in jail. But today's headline turned into a different twist. It said that Taylor was suing FBI for torturing him. Joan shook her head and muttered to herself that Taylor is indeed a mystery man.

Taylor had been Joan's short-lived lover when they met in a plane going to New York sometime before his alleged death. Joan fell head over heels with Taylor. They had wonderful time in New York. They walked hand in hand in Central Park, flew over Liberty and Manhattan island in a chopper. As a film buff, Taylor identified landmarks where great movie films where shot as they were on flight.

"Look, this is Liberty Island where Daryl Hannah's naked mermaid made her first appearance on dry land in Splash. That's Brooklyn Bridge for Woody Allen's Manhattan. The world Trade Center for Dino De Laurentii's 1976 King Kong remake. The Chrysler Building for Brian de Palma's Bonfire of the Vanities. The Empire State Building where Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr agreed to meet in An Affair To Remember. The Trans Lux Theater where Marilyn Monroe stood over the subway grate and cooed, ("Isn't delicious?") as her virginal white dress was blown upwards in the 1955' Seven Year Itch. Sadly the Trans Lux has been razed and replaced by a dull office block..." Joan recalled the fun touring with Taylor's on air.

Most of all, she remembered him as the man who made her come a lot throughout the whole night of passionate love-making. But he ticked-off without a trace and she never had known where he had gone. Later, she learned of his death dashing her hope of ever seeing him again. Now that he was alive, her hope to see him again was renewed. Suddenly, she felt a deep longing for him and her pussy tingled.

Back inside her huge room, she disrobed dropping the terry on the shiny wooden floor. She looked at her naked body in the mirror and liked what she saw. Despite hitting 40 she looked much in better shape than she was on her 20s.

She got her saxophone and started to play a jazz number. Blowing sax and blowing a man's dick are her passion but not just anybody's dick. She is a woman of cultured intellect and she chooses her men like she chooses her words to write. She is also at her best in gourmet cooking or target shooting and when it comes to sex she's hot when she's hot and cold when she's cold.

Taylor never saw her played sax and by this thought she was inspired to compose a sexy bluesy note for him. When she finished she felt satisfied. She gazed at her sax, her sex, and suddenly while gripping the horn she felt horny.

She slumped on the bed with her sax, slid its gleaming body over her pussy and recalled how she met Taylor. A lot of men have made love with her but they're nothing compared with Taylor.

Taylor started flirting with her at the 110-year-old Jewish Deli in New York. This is the Katz Delicatessen and they sat at the table with a placard that reads, "You are sitting at the table where Harry met Sally. Hope you had what she had!" Of course, this is the site when Meg Ryan had her fake orgasm in Rob Reiner's When Harry Met Sally.

At the room in Waldorf Hotel, (again Taylor said this hotel has been host to 1974's The Great Gatsby and of course the 1945 Ginger Rogers/Lana Turner vehicle Weekend At The Waldorf), Joan dropped on the bed with Taylor's face nuzzled on her tummy. She was suppressing giggles as he went down on her. He kissed through the fabric of her cream lace panties and her pussy throbbed feverishly. When Taylor stood to strip down his clothes, his eyes were glued to her parted legs.

"What are you looking at like that?" Joan asked

"The upskirt was tantalizing," he replied.

His erection sprang as it got freed from his black silk briefs.

"Holy Bananas! That's a whopper" Joan exclaimed her hands flying over her mouth.

"You're driving me nuts," Taylor said.

"Oh, speaking of nuts let me feel the nuts and the banana," she said impishly and reaching for them.

Taylor let her played his genitals. Then he leaned over her and gazed into her eyes.

"Your eyes look as though the twinkling stars are in them. Joan you are Venus, you're driving me crazy," Taylor said.

Taylor looked like Alain Delon. There was an animal magnetism in him that swept Joan like a tornado. As he kissed her, soft flames seared her whole body. Bit by bit he undressed her. He pulled off her cashmere top. He breathed raggedly when her shapely supple big breasts thrust up to his face. He cupped her breasts and traced the nipples through her lace bra. She moaned as his hot lips scorched her cleavage. Then the bra was tossed away.

He fondled her nude breasts with both hands. His face rubbed her tummy, his tongue darting on her navel, and his fingers rolling her nipples. His lips lifted the hem of her skirt, touched the hillock between her legs, and nosed the soft cleft through the laced panties. She felt the tip of his tongue flicking through her groin. Then he kissed her inner thighs as intimate as he could get. Then Joan stood and eased down her panties, her pussy now staring up close at his face.

Taylor squeezed her butt and kissed her wiry bush. His tongue started flicking from below her vulva toward her clit. He rolled his tongue around her clit and sucked it. Her juice spilled over his chin to the neck.

Then Taylor lowered her down and slowly had his tumescent penetrated her. A moment later she was bouncing her hips, her boobs and it was a joy ride to orgasm. She came and he licked her again. When she was about to come he penetrated her again as she lay by her side, a leg draped above his waist. He caressed her boobs and played her clit as he pumped her cunt.

He knelt between her legs seized her ankles and again plundered her pussy. As he watched his dick go in and out, Joan watched it too and was amazed how her swollen pussy was clamping his also swollen member. He went faster eliciting moans and groans from Joan and when he was near, he slowed his thrust and moved on top of her. They were looking into each other's eyes. When Joan announced her impending orgasm he lowered his lips and kissed her, thrusting his tongue deeply into her mouth while he humped in full force making her come a dozen times before he spurted his load into her womb.

At the moment of ecstasy, Joan earnestly masturbated. Her memory of that great fuck also gave her a wallop of an orgasm.