Betty Buckssome – Porn Star
By pussy43
Becky adjusted the scarf covering her blonde locks while she checked the positioning of her sunglasses in the rear vision mirror. In so doing she noted that her make up was elaborate to the point of being over done. Still Becky felt the need to touch up her cherry red lipstick just one more time. She looked and felt like a whore.
Becky chipped her brightly coloured nail polish as she applied the handbrake. This brought a pout to her pretty cheeks. There was, however, no time for a more significant emotional display because Becky was running close to time. Before leaving home Becky had spent hours agonising over her outfit. Her present outfit made her look like a tramp but somehow, despite rummaging through her entire wardrobe, she could not find anything she preferred to wear.
Becky parked her fire engine red Nissan as close as possible to the front entrance of the Paris Cinema and moved as quickly as her ridiculously high heels would allow in the direction of the ticketing booth. The pimple faced young usher was gawking at her even before she had managed three steps. That didn’t surprise Becky, with her red stockings, tight black mini skirt, white V neck T-shirt and red push up bra publicly displaying her every curve, it was astonishing that the poor boy wasn’t drooling.
Still Becky couldn’t bring her bright green eyes to meet his when asking for a ticket to see “Porn to be wild”.
Exactly when and why she had started dressing this way was something she couldn’t really explain. She had always been very conservative with her choice of clothes perhaps even prudish. As the head librarian at the Mitchell Library her dress sense and natural conservatism had, until recently, been appreciated by her employer. In recent times she had purchased a number of more adventurous outfits. Becky was content that she was justified in doing so on the basis that she didn’t want David’s eyes roving in the wrong direction.
Again, she could not recall precisely how and why she had allowed David to talk her into travelling to a dive like the Paris Cinema to see a porno flick which, from its screening at such a location, obviously had no artistic merit. Deep down, Becky had been troubled by David’s assurance that she would enjoy the debut film of a starlet named Betty Buckssome. “Starlet, more like harlot!” she thought. Still for some inexplicable reason Becky now found herself outside the Paris Theatre.
The shapely blonde moved swiftly into the theatre removing her scarf and sunglasses as she did so. Fortunately, the theatre was dark on her entry. Becky, however, could still sense the weight of several sets of eyes upon her. The theatre positively reeked of a combination of alcohol, transpiration and remnant pheromones. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness Becky became all too aware that she was the only woman in the theatre and that of the dozen or so men in the room the majority were wearing trench coats and hugging paper bags.
Despite the darkness Becky blushed when, on taking a seat, she sank so far that her knees were positioned above her hips with the result that the hem of her mini skirt slipped above the top of her stockings thereby removing any doubt that she was wearing a garter belt. Instinctively, Becky clamped her thighs tightly together.
Mercifully, it wasn’t long before the projector flickered into action. It was apparent from the first frames of the film that it was going to be cheap and trashy even by the standards of those who frequented this establishment. Within a matter of seconds, however, a chilled passed over Becky. There on the screen was a name she recognised “David Horncastle”, her David was the producer. It was instantly apparent that the plot was paper thin and the dialogue puerile but with barely, half the first scene completed Becky’s shock turned to horror. She could not believe her own eyes. There she was dressed in an ill fitting uniform playing the part of a waitress named Betty at “Greasy John’s” a biker’s haunt.
Horror quickly turned to anger. It was obvious that David had used her and she would see him in hell. She determined to leave the theatre and confront David over his deception but oddly she didn’t move rather, her eyes remained glued to the screen.
The inevitable quickly followed. Betty’s waitress uniform was soon about her ankles as she discovered what was really on the menu at “Greasy John’s”. The specials, it seemed to Becky, consisted primarily of large helpings of pork sausages for which her character appeared to have a voracious appetite.
Becky became flushed and squirmed uncomfortably in her seat but could not take her eyes off the film.
Her character, meanwhile, was hungrily performing oral sex on the leader of the biker pack, a barbarous looking individual whose portly figure was almost completely covered in tattoos and hair.
Watching as she gleefully swallowed the full length stranger’s erection was intensely humiliating and yet strangely, Becky felt her nipples stiffening as she did so.
The librarian was appalled on witnessing the lead biker cover the waitresses face with his sticky bile. Oddly, though, Becky’s heart rate was on the rise and she was breathing heavily. A part of her wanted nothing more than to escape the theatre but still her eyes were unmoved.
A large African American biker bent Betty face down across the counter pulling her white lace thong to the side with one hand while using the other to insert his erection into her exposed pubic mound. The waitress responded to the biker’s staccato thrusts with grunts of pleasure. The rhythmic slapping of his hips against her buttocks drew ecstatic groans from both characters. The biker clapped his callused hands around the blonde’s ample breasts. The combined effect of the enforced arching of her back, his kneading and the accompanying pelvic thrusts produced yet more ecstatic gasps from Betty.
Becky was beginning to transpire. She swallowed hard and crossed her legs as the waitress reached orgasm. Again, the embarrassment was excruciating but at the same time, the vision was peculiarly erotic. The librarian fought hard against her welling tears; after all she certainly didn’t want to ruin her mascara.
A third biker was soon entertaining the audience. This time Becky’s character was positioned on her back on a table with her legs over the biker’s shoulders. The Biker had hold of the waitress’s hips and was busily attempting to force his penis inside her anus. Each thrust of his hips brought fevered moans from the blonde and took the biker deeper inside her. It seemed to Becky that the biker’s penetration of her character would last forever. Eventually, however, the biker slump exhausted over Betty’s panting figure.
Becky squirmed uncomfortably in her seat; the theatre’s air conditioning she concluded must be inadequate as was its ventilation. She was febrile and could hardly breathe. As if in an effort at reassurance, Becky again squeezed her thighs tight and in so doing discovered that the crotch of her lace panties was saturated. Becky still couldn’t bring herself to remove her eyes from the events unfolding on the screen in front of her much less to leave the theatre. Becky found imagining the perverted machinations flitting through the minds of the men in the audience to be at once degrading. The mental picture burned deep within her soul but bizarrely enough she found that same mental picture to be almost as sexually stimulating as it was degrading.
The bikers’ lusting was yet to be sated. The scene that followed had them cheering wildly while Becky’s character wrestled the clothes from a brunette colleague and forced her to the ground. Thereupon, Betty promptly sat on the brunette’s chest her blonde mound situated immediately above the brunette’s chin. The blonde then utilised one hand to push her victim’s face toward her thrusting valva. The brunette clearly understood why she had been given a tongue and Betty was soon gasping with approval at her colleague’s efforts.
Becky reclined in her seat placing her calves on the chair in front and parting her thighs. She sensed the intensifying excitement of the audience and that sensation coupled with the vision on the screen pushed her over the edge, her inhibitions lost in a whirl of wanton desires.
The Negro biker again joined the party, separating the brunette’s thighs and inserting himself inside her. The ministrations of both Becky’s character and the biker quickly had the brunette writhing wildly.
Meanwhile, Becky slipped her right hand under the elastic waist bands of both her skirt and panties. Soon thereafter she commenced toying with her clit. The reaction of her clit was exquisite still Becky had an appetite for more and before long she was pumping three fingers rhythmically in and out of her vagina. Almost immediately Becky’s commenced marking time with her fingers. This caused the librarian’s skirt to ride up about her waist. The additional exposure given to Betty’s assets was not welcomed by her but the added freedom to spread her thighs certainly was.
She would be sure to make David pay for whatever he had done to her but right now there were more urgent matters at hand.
Becky became so animated that she failed to notice the rolling of the credits on the screen in front of her. When the cinema lights came up she still had several fingers of her right hand embedded between her well oiled labia. The cocktail of embarrassment and excitement which swept through her was potent and set off a shuddering orgasm.
Becky will long remember the jeering of the Wino’s, Flashers and Peeping Toms as she scrambled to exit the theatre. More, mortifying still, however, was the request for her to autograph a poster of Betty Buckssome made by the pimple faced usher as she stumbled past the ticketing booth on her way to the car.
To Becky’s dismay she was almost tempted to comply.