Roxie froze feeling his soft touch.  She shifted around to face him and purred her answered, “Yes, you did but…”

At Raoul’s insistence, the room was quickly cleared by all equipment and crew.

It was just Peter and the woman of his wet dreams, Roxie.

Peter had no idea how the hell he got here…nor what the hell to do…he started to shake lightly.

“Oh, baby…are you cold?”cunnilingus

…Peter shivered and snuggled in closer.

Roxie wrapped one leg over top of him out of reflex.  She was confused.  The way this man touched her was not the touch of a lust laden soul that simply wanted her to spread her legs for him.  In fact, she already had done that and was not sure if the fact he still had yet to orgasm was a tribute to his stamina or a hit to her ego.

Being they had just met, his touch was still foreign.  Yet it did not feel creepy either, like all the guys pawing at her when she would appear at the local sex trade shows.  This man respected outright.  This realization was refreshing for Roxie.  She had been in this business so long that she was used to the guys who simply assumed that her on-screen persona was all she was.

This guy, however, was afraid of harming her.  He was not afraid of ruining his image of her, or his own ego.  He actually gave a shit as to whether or not he had done it right for her.

Roxie leaned closer and her tongue darted into his mouth as soon as his initial panic released his lips.  She pressed her breasts, still covered in the blue robe, against his chest.  She got so close that she almost knocked his glasses off.

His touch went from tentative to a very firm and warm.  One hand’s fingers danced along her spine through the robe’s fabric, the other ran through her red hair.

Roxie broke the kiss off with a smile.  “Hi there, I’m Roxie.”

“I know,” he said with an awkward gag/giggle.  “Peter.”

“Who are you, Peter?”

His blue eyes shifted to the boom mic still laying behind her.  “I hold that.”

“No, Mister Peter.  You are more than that.”  She leaned back in and playfully nipped at his throat.

He pulled away from her embrace.  “No, that’s it.  I’m just the guy who holds the mic and dreams about being lost in the snow.”

Her own blue eyes widened.  “What does that mean?”

“What?”

“Lost in the snow?”

His chuckle was genuine this time, much calmer.  “Bruce Hornsby does this song I love called ‘Lost in the Snow’.  Probably ten years old now and it has become a metaphor of romance for me.  The idea of being lost in the snow with someone.”

“Metaphor?  You’re a writer?”  Her hand, completely out of habit, found his member and absently gave it a stroke.

Peter jumped slightly, but calmed again quickly.  “No,” he whispered.  “Well, I write, but no one ever reads my stuff.  I just write for…” his voice trailed off as he was unsure why he wrote.

Roxie glanced down at the good-sized erection she now held.  “Could I read some.”

“No, I don’t even know you.”

“But you said you know I’m Roxie,” she said with a grin and rolled up onto her hands and knees.  Leaning forward she planted a wet kiss right on the tip of his penis.

“Please don’t.”

“Don’t?”  Eyes darting about as she searched her memory for the last time a guy had asked her not to blow him, she rolled back to her side.  She stopped herself from asking if he was gay.

Peter pushed her on to her back.

She understood now, he wanted to fuck her more.

He rolled over between her legs and kneed her thighs wide open.  Then, however, he moved down further with his mouth and pushed open the robe so he could, in turn, kiss the nipple on each breast.

The erection touched the opening of her vagina lightly, teasing but not entering, and Roxie refrained from trying to take control.

Pulling down further, his erection backed away from her and his mouth found her belly button…then her thighs…then his tongue licked along her pussy lips very tentatively, very gently.  His fingers opened her lips so his tongue could explore further probing into her and tasting all the juices.

Roxie sighed in the most natural sexual sound she had made in a long time.  She was used to faking the moans, and then screaming in mock ecstasy while riding some stud’s cock…those screams were usually more from pain than pleasure as she would dry up during filming or photography.  She drove her hips into his face for more of this pleasure…this was not work.  She had worked for so long and shut down the actual enjoyment of the act that Peter’s tongue was performing.

Peter hummed his own enjoyment as his worked her clitoris a little harder with the encouragement of Roxie’s hand that now ran through his hair to the back of his head.  His lips and cheeks were now completely saturated with her as he ate and tried to pleasure her.  Slowly, trying to mask the pattern, his tongue began to work the alphabet over her pussy.  Roxie howled her orgasm as Peter slashed his tongue across her for the letter ‘X’.  More of her juices flowed which he lapped up, not missing a single drop.

“Oh, fuck, that is good.”

Peter slipped from between her legs and lay beside her again, embracing her tightly.

Roxie fell asleep, snuggled into the warmth of him.

“Wake up, already.  We godda go.”

Roxie snapped away from Raoul shaking her.  She glanced around and realized the hair Latino was the only one in the room with her.  Her sense of time was gone, but with the darkness settling out the windows, it was well past dusk.  “Where…?”

“He had to go.”

“But…”

“Ged dress, love.  We needa ged oud of dee house before we godda pay more rend.”

Roxie felt disappointed at waking alone.  She slowly sat up and balanced herself as Raoul sat beside her to steady.  “Why did he go?”

Raoul laughed.  “He said somting aboud hiz daughter.”

“How will I find him?”

Another chuckle and Raoul pulled a slip of folded paper from his breast pocket.

In black pen, block letters read the word “Peter”.  Below, carefully written, was ten digits.

Roxie smiled.

Raoul kissed her forehead.  “Jou no good to me now.  Go home.”

Her blue eyes looked up at him.  “I love you, Raoul.”  Her arms pulled him for a hug.

“I know.  One day I tink Dennis will ged jealous.”

She whispered in his ear as she clasped him close, “Dennis is a lucky guy.  If you two ever break up, I get first dibs.”

Raoul pulled back with a grin from the hug.  His big brown eyes dropped to the paper she held.  “I dona tink so.  Go ged ‘im.”

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