Clint Murdock
Naked Nikki

Chapter 1

Nikki stopped and watched as Howard Friedman struggled out of his ridiculous, flowered undershorts. His cock was a huge, thick veined sausage with an angry purple head. The tip was already smeared with a sticky coating of pre-cum.

Inwardly she groaned. Christ, how could an old dip-shit like him be packing an eight or ten-inch monster like that?

Friedman finally got the undershorts off of his ankles and kicked them away, then stood up eagerly, his heavy prick waving wildly in front of rum. He saw Nikki eyeing it and flexed proudly. "Not bad for an old coot, huh? Think you can handle this, baby?"

Nikki resisted the urge to say something smartass and instead unhooked her bra and let her 36-DD's spill out into the soft light. As soon as the air-conditioning hit them, her nipples immediately began to harden. She watched Friedman's eyes widen as he took in the huge, white globes, his mouth opening hungrily as he began to breathe hoarsely. Christ, she thought, in a few minutes he'll be puffing and wheezing like an old steam engine! He backed up several steps, his eyes riveted on her nipples, then bumped into the bed and toppled backward onto it.

Nikki smirked smugly as she tossed the bra aside. She guessed she had control of the situation again, all right! She lifted her arms gracefully over her head and pirouetted slowly in front of him.

"Think you can handle these, Jocko?" she asked saucily.

Friedman gave a low growl and lunged for her tits with both hands, but she stepped back quickly, undulating her hips at him as he nearly tumbled off the bed.

"Come here, you horny bitch!" he rumbled, his eyes glazing with lust.

"But, Howard," Nikki said playfully, sticking her thumbs under the waistband of her panties, "I'm not undressed yet. Don't be so impatient!"

"Well, hurry up, goddam it! I'm going crazy here!"

"Aw-w-w-w," she answered tauntingly, dancing up close to him then jumping back nimbly as he reached for her. "What's the trouble, Howie? Are we horny tonight or something? Do you want to get your big, hairy hands on poor little Nikki?"

The beefy talent agent cursed angrily and started floundering his way off the bed, so Nikki turned her back on him and whipped the baby blue panties down over her ass. The sight of her lush, naked buns staring him in the face stopped Howard Friedman cold, his tongue lolling helplessly out of his mouth like an overheated sheep dog.

Nikki peeked back over her shoulder and had to turn her head to hide a smile. This poor bastard was like putty in her hands! She looked again and saw him sitting on all fours at the edge of the bed, his eyes glued to the twin mounds of soft, white flesh that she was slowly gyrating before his face. Gradually Nikki bent forward from the waist, wriggling her panties lower and lower, exposing more and more of the deep, fleecy treasure trove between her legs.

She glanced beneath her arm to see Howard's reaction, and this time she couldn't help herself. She burst into a giggle of girlish amusement, the sound of her laughter tinkling gaily through Friedman's large, expensive apartment. He was sitting therein the same position, like a statue, and now his tongue had started moving, involuntarily, up and down, up and down with the motion of her body. It was like he was trying to eat her pussy by remote control!

Nikki leaned clear over and caught her ankles, then bent her legs at the knee. She heard the whooshing intake of breath as her woolly, young cunt gaped open in front of Friedman, framed by the firm, tender meat of her ass. Remaining in this posture, she stepped carefully out of one leg of the panties, then shuffled slowly backward toward the bed.

When he realized what she was doing, Friedman roared with anticipation, then reached out and caught her by the hips, dragging her furiously back onto him, his tongue slurping fiercely at her vulva, his nose poking directly into her asshole. His attack was so violent that Nikki lost her balance and rolled on top of him, squealing, then managed to catch herself against the wall. Underneath her she could feel Howard's hot, wet tongue stabbing and lapping feverishly, seeking desperately to break through the soft, hairy lips of her pussy and thrust up into the hot, juicy channel beyond. The -smothered, slobbering noises he was making made her feel like she was sitting on top of a warthog in heat.

Nikki decided to take pity on the poor bastard for a moment. Bracing herself against the wall, she lifted her hips slightly and adjusted her pelvis, bringing her pussy into better alignment with Howard's face. Then, bending one knee" under her for support, she lowered herself directly onto his flicking tongue, spearing the thick, slippery hunk of flesh deep into her steaming cunt. Howard growled loudly from under her ass and Nikki couldn't help gasping herself as a swirl of delightful sensations prickled through her tight young snatch.

"Eat it, Howard. Eat it, baby!" she urged, slowly rubbing her pussy back and forth on his flailing tongue. "Oh, God… Does it taste good?"

Howard growled again and reached up with one hand to toy with her large, soft breast. Nikki was surprised that his touch wasn't especially rough; she could feel warm sparks of pleasure nipping at her as he pinched and tugged the creamy flesh. She reached down and grabbed his cock, standing up rigidly now, long and hard as a whaler's harpoon. Gently she frigged her fingers up and down the warm, stiff shaft, smirking as Howard bleated urgently and began bucking his hips in response to her strokes.

God, Nikki thought, the problem here was not going to be how to get the old bastard off, but how to keep him from cumming all over the place before they'd even gotten started! She stared at his huge, throbbing tool and wondered how many shots it would be good for. She gave it a calculating squeeze. God, it was a big, hard bastard, that was for sure! She knew Friedman was close to sixty years old, but the amount of slimy moisture leaking from his prick-head was already more than some guys shot altogether!

Nikki decided to make it easy on herself.

She humped her pussy upward away from Friedman's ravaging lips and tongue, drawing a loud cry of protest from the agent.

"Hey, where are you going, Sweetheart?"

"Relax, Howard," Nikki told him, flipping over and stepping off the bed. "You're such a bossy bastard, you know that? Now just lay back and relax… and shut up!"

Nikki took a peek through her dangling brown hair as she knelt on the edge of the bed and seized Friedman's jutting prick with both hands. He was lying back, his eyes closed, peaceful as a lamb. Just like she'd thought! Most of these gruff, bossy mothers, who were used to getting their own way all the time, were really closet pussycats. It had been so long since anyone bossed them around that they usually went for it unquestioningly, whether out of surprise or just as a welcome change.

Nikki began a slow, sensuous, up-and-down motion with her clasping hands, exerting a firm, squeezing pressure as she stroked from the tip to the base of the talent agent's huge hard-on. He gasped and groaned helplessly as the sensations raced through his loins. His hips began to pump rhythmically in response, his toes digging into the sheets, his big, rough hands coming up to tangle themselves in Nikki's soft hair.

"Au-ugh, God!" he moaned harshly, starting to lift his ass up off the bed, trying to jam his pecker deeper and deeper into Nikki's clutching grasp.

"What's the matter, Howie, baby?" Nikki asked gently. "Does it feel good?"

"Aw, God… you little bitch," Friedman choked. "You… you know it does!"

"Aw-w, Howard," she said sweetly. "You say the nicest things to a girl."

Friedman had the sense of humor to want to chuckle at that, but the effort was squashed flat by a stream of new thrills as Nikki took her left hand and probed beneath his heavy balls with her long, painted fingernail. She scratched it gently back and forth under his balls as his hips arched upward uncontrollably, then slid it upward and probed deftly into the crack of his hairy ass.

"No, no, stop! Jesus Christ! That's enough of that," the big man told her suddenly, reaching down and pulling her hand out of his ass. "Come on, forget about that, baby, anyone can do that shit. I want to see you suck it!"

Nikki looked up and saw the blaze of lust glinting in Friedman's eyes. Now she had him just about where she wanted him.

"Suck it?" she repeated, running her tongue tantalizingly across both her full, red lips. "Like this?"

She leaned forward and swirled her tongue around and around the gooey, sticky head of Friedman's towering prick, licking until she cleared away the heavy coating of cum that had built up on it. Then she opened her mouth and slowly slid the angry purple crown inside, grazing it deliciously with her teeth as it went past. She closed her lips and used her tongue to exert a slowly increasing pressure, then she sucked furiously for about ten seconds, her head twisting back and forth, with only about two inches of Howard's rigid meat in her mouth.

Then she stopped abruptly and lifted her head, mouth still open, a long, curving strand of saliva connecting her lips with the talent agent's pulsing penis.

"Is that what you meant, Howard?" Nikki asked innocently. "Aw, Jesus, you little minx! Yes, goddamit! You know it is! Why are you being such a bitch about this?"

"Well, Howard," the girl said, sitting up and becoming much more businesslike, the only contact between them the loose grip of her left hand with which she was lazily jacking his cock, "I'll tell you. You see, I think the two of us are going to have to get a few things straight before this goes any further."

Friedman looked at her darkly and flexed his pecker against her sliding fingers.

"… That is, a few other things straight," she added, glancing down at the steel-hard staff of flesh.

Friedman did not smile. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he demanded.

"What the fuck am I talking about?" Nikki echoed. "I'll tell you what the fuck I'm talking about, Howard-what the fuck do you think I'm doing here?"

The talent agent glared at her, his gaze dropping to her pouting, puckered nipples, then returning to her face.

"What, do you think with my body maybe I can't find anybody else to hump me but some asthmatic old bastard with bourbon breath and a gut like Santa Claus?"

The turgid penis flicked back and forth again in Nikki's hand.

"That's not all I've got, Pussylips," Howard Friedman said.

Nikki looked down at his cock. The huge helmet was already completely smeared with drool.

"Yeah, I'll have to admit that," she replied, letting a note of honest admiration creep into her voice. She closed her fingers and stroked the shaft affectionately.

"But I didn't know that in advance, Howard," she continued briskly, returning to her former businesslike tone. "And besides, big, hard cocks are a dime a dozen… I know where to find plenty of them on a lot younger guys than you."

"Well, Sol Mandelbaum said you-"

"Oh, fuck Solly Mandelbaum!" Nikki spat. "In the nose! He told you I had a hot box and you owed it to yourself to take me around the block a couple of times, right?"

Howard sighed with resignation and a look of exasperated helplessness settled on his face.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to drag it out. I get it. Another fucking gold-digger… literally and figuratively."

Nikki chuckled gaily. "Oh, Howard, you've got the cutest sense of humor."

"Yeah, well, I wish I could say the same for you," he mumbled grimly. "Okay, Harry Carey Sr., what do you want?"

"Who?"

"You wouldn't get it, dear."

"Oh, yes, I do get it, goddam it!" she cried. "Treasure of the Sierra Madre, right? Harry Carey Sr., Humphrey Bogart, and somebody else. Errol Flynn? See, that's what I hate about you fucking bigshots, you think you're so goddam smart and nobody else knows a goddam thing! Especially if they've got tits and a cunt! 'Oh, she's just another dumb twat, not good for anything but screwing; no brains, no nothing!' "

"Okay, then, Supercunt, what do you want?-You know what I love about you bimbos? You're all so goddam super-you're so smart, you're so talented, you're so all-around fabulous-not a one of you is just another silly piece of ass! Oh, no-o! And yet where do you all show up? In the goddam sack, trying to extort some sort of favor from somebody with your horny little bodies! Right? Now why the hell is that?"

"Because you assholes force us to-!"

"Oh, bullshit, force you to! If you're so goddam talented, why don't you just break through on sheer, shining merit?"

"You know why, you sonofabitch! Because all you old bastards have things so closed up, and cliqued up, and screwed up in these industries that there's no way in hell anybody can break in on just talent alone! One chance in a million-and then you've got to just happen to be in the right place at the right time, having a goddam soda or something when Louis B. Mayer walks in!"

Friedman looked at her for several moments, and then a small, crooked smile chiseled its way into his glum expression. His cock was still as thick and hard as a marlin spike.

"I say again," he said finally. "What do you want, Supercunt?"

Nikki gave his cock an unnecessarily hard squeeze and Friedman winced, but he didn't say anything. So… the old bastard was tough, too, huh? Nikki liked that, in spite of herself.

"I just want something," she told him, "I'm not sure what. A part, an understudy role, or maybe some kind of a photo layout. I'm a model, too, you know."

"Su-u-ure," Friedman said. "Aren't you all?"

"Well, what have you got?" Nikki felt the turgid flesh jumping in her hand again and added, "Besides a pecker the size of a volleyball standard?"

"Oh, Christ," the agent sighed, "I don't know. I don't suppose there's any sense in asking whether you can act… "

"Yes, I happen-"

"Yeah, right, I know-Lady MacBeth, Joan of Are, Blanche DuBois-just name it, you can do 'er. Well, look, I don't hand out parts of any significance to people I haven't had a chance to watch. I do have a professional reputation, believe it or not."

"All right, then, how about a shoot?"

Friedman paused thoughtfully and Nikki suddenly bent forward and attacked the crown of his big prick with her tongue, swirling and stabbing and lapping furiously until all the sloppy cum was cleared off again. Then she sat up, licking the sticky liquid from her lips while she looked directly into his eyes.

"It's only a matter of seconds until you can be shooting off in my mouth, Howard," she told him. "And you're lying there blowing it."

Friedman chuckled. "Instead of letting you do it, huh? Okay, fair enough. I do have something that you can probably do. It's a beach shot; swimwear, accessories and all that shit, and they're gonna be doing it down in Baja or Mexico, somewhere around the Gulf of California. They want all the big rocks in the background. How does that sound?"

"That sounds pretty good," Nikki said.

"All right, then, let's get back to business," Friedman said gutturally, hoisting his hips into a steady, jacking rhythm.

"No, no, no, now-wait a minute," Nikki stopped him again, her hand remaining motionless on his pulsating pole. She giggled briefly, then told him: "Howard, it's really flattering to see that you think I'm so young. I'm really twenty-three, you know… "

"Well, what-?"

"… But you obviously think I'm so young that I just fell off a fucking Christmas tree, or something!"

"What the hell're you talking about?"

"Contracts, Howard, the contracts. Let's see all this swell-sounding Baja bullshlt in writing. I know you wouldn't try to snow a nice girl like me with a verbal agreement that you didn't have an intention in hell of keeping!"

Priedman chuckled again, ruefully, cynically. "Okay, okay, God Almighty. They're on my desk over there, in the box on the bottom. Four of five of them. Bring them all, and grab a pen, too… Unless you come so well-prepared that you've got one hidden on you somewhere."

Nikki bounded off the bed and carefully tugged the contracts from their resting place. Immediately the name on the top one leaped out at her: Franco Finnelli, one of the most visible rising stars in the fashion industry.

"Oh, my God!" Nikki squealed. "Franco Finnelli! You've got to be kidding!"

Friedman's lips twisted sardonically. "I thought you might like that."

"Oh, my God! Why, that's almost too good to be true!" Suddenly she stopped and the girlish delight froze on her face, her eyes narrowing abruptly. "That is too good to be true! Why the hell would you give me something like this, Howie, baby?"

Now a genuine smile broke across the talent agent's weather-beaten face. "Jesus, are you suspicious! It's the only thing I've got, that's all. The only thing that's going off any time soon, anyway, and I figure if I suggest something more than five minutes in the future, you'll probably make me lie here waiting, just like this, until you fucking get back or something!"

"Now it was Nikki's turn to smile. "Well, when is it going off, Howard?" she asked, leafing through the documents as she crossed to the bed. "There isn't any date on any of them."

"Your wonder-boy there is why there isn't a date on any of them," Howard said, taking them from her hand and pulling out a blank one. "We're waiting on Mr. Magic Finnelli to get his goddam schedule cleared up, and then as soon as I hear from him, they're leaving right away. The bastard should've already called me by now, and I'm expecting to hear from him in the next five to seven days."

He pulled the pen from her fingers and paused dramatically. "I presume you don't have any ironclad commitments that will cause a conflict during that time?"

Nikki regarded him with a wry smile. "Very funny, Howie. Just make the contract out, baby, and I want mine to look exactly like Franco Finnelli's!"

"Sit down here, bitch," Friedman commanded, then placed the papers against Nikki's bare back and began writing. The brown-haired girl reached around with her right hand and started working on his erection again. Howard moaned a little bit in spite of himself, then cleared his throat.

"God, you make for a lousy business atmosphere," he said.

"That's okay, Howie, I'm not applying for secretary."

"It'll be okay, I trust, if I insert your name here instead of Franco Finnelli's.-What did you say it was, again?"

"Nicolle Newman," she told him smartly. "Nikki for short. And don't you ever forget it, Big Boy!"