What came out of making promo

Working at the radio station is like living in asylum. And our radio station is definitely like the ward №6. Our work is creative, the heads are daring and ideas are all delirious. But, as someone of the greats said: any crazy idea should be first tested against its brilliance. So we are rushing about with this nonsense checking its brilliance on our listeners from time to time. One day our copywriter (speaking the language of ordinary people - the composer of the texts for advertising promos) had thought up an audio promo clip whether for a sex shop, or for a cheap bar where the sound of excited and rapid breathing of a man and a woman was needed. That way the certain sexual attraction of the listeners was was the purpose of that promo.

The role of a sighing man was assigned to me, still I always voiced very serious promos either for solid banks, or political organizations. The role of a woman was given to the first available girl from our radio station. Incidentally, she turned out to be a copywriter as well. (The fact that the choice fell on her pleased my mind: her slender legs, beautiful breasts and taut butt always excited my imagination.)

We gathered in the Studio, the initiator of the disgrace quickly explained to us that we should breathe as if we were about to cum - stormy and at the same time.

First we tried to rehearse. We got something between shortness of breath and a gallows-bird wheezing. We tried again and again. Zero effect. Then the author of the script told me and the girl to sit down on a couch tight to each other. Again, a little of rehearsal. It turned out even worse than before. As our newsman said: our breath was like at straining in the toilet. The author was getting nervous. We were having fun. This is such strange tradition at our station: if someone is becoming hysterical, everybody is getting on him actively, he is becoming more nervous, angry shouting at everybody, and we are just laughing. All in all - the ward №6. After all, the inventor of the promo kicked everyone from the studio, leaving me alone with Elena (that was the name of the girl-copywriter) and the microphone on. At that he threatened us that first: the studio door would be unlocked only in a half an hour (so we were going to stay there locked up); and second: if after the given 30 minutes we don't have good breathing recorded, he would grip us by the throat until we are done. So we were left alone in the locked studio. We were young and attractive. And we wanted to live very much. Copywriters, after all, are people of their words – if they say they will strangle, they mean it. So we sat down on the couch and began to breathe deeply until our heads swam from the overabundance of oxygen. And again, nothing good came of it. Something had to be done.

- Let me touch and squeeze you a little, maybe, that can help, - I offered.

- Well, let's try, - she said, immediately trying to pull her super mini-skirt to the knees.

- Don’t be so nervous, - I reassured her. – This is the same role like in a movie or in the theater.

- Well, then – marker #1, - with those words Elena pulled the skirt up. Her white semi-transparent panties flashed for a moment so that I could see the girl’s crotch.

Well, marker #1 is marker #1. I moved closer to her and put one my arm around Elena's shoulders, and the other placed on her slender and taut thigh. What I had in my pants stiffened immediately. (I always wanted to have a horizontal conversation with that pretty one). My breath became slightly broken, for sitting sideways from Elena I saw her nice breasts in the deep cut of the blouse and the glitter of her panties between the legs. Her breath was even. I was stroking her inner side of the thigh very gently and softly, moving my hand in the direction of the alluring panties and their contents. Elena’s breathing was even.

My mind painted three versions of calmness of the girl: either she was frigid (unlikely), or her will was extremely powerful, or as a man I was already dead and could excite only pork-peckers.

- So, are we going to breathe as we need to or not? - I was getting nervous.

- We are! - firmly said Elena unbuttoning her blouse.

I stopped breathing and froze. As for her, she easily undid all the buttons, removed her blouse, her bra, threw off her skirt and remained in the panties only.

- I think that if smooching – let it be real, if breathing – let’s do it really excited. And don't forget, we have less than half an hour.

She sat astride on my lap unbuttoned the belt. Having the fly undone, she took my standing cock out and got down to stroking up and down. Her free hand unbuttoned my shirt, which miraculously flew down into the corner of the studio. Pulled off my ass the pants and the briefs flew there as well.

With no foreplay she sat down squatting between my legs and started to blow me. At that moment I came to life. Our time was running out: we had to breathe at least five minutes of sound material and to have a good fuck. I moved her head away from my cock, got up from the couch, and immediately put Elena on it so that her knees were on the sofa, and the elbows rested against its back. I pulled her seductive panties down to the middle of her also seductive thighs. Then I quickly shoved a hand in her crotch: it was very wet and hot there. Without hesitation, I plunged my tool in her crack and began moving very vigorously. In a minute we were breathing so hot!!! But in the following 10 minutes we thought neither about the promo clip, nor about any sort of sound material, nor the fact of having sex right at the place of work. We were just fucking.

Passion seized us; we were giving into sex with self-oblivion, as if fucking before the execution. Still, the ending in having sex is inevitable. It was about a dozen of frictions to the finish line. But then Elena had come off my already bursting cock and grabbed it with her mouth sucking like a vacuum cleaner. Wild growl escaped from my throat, and the stream of sperm from my penis. Helen swallowed it all, licked the rest of semen off the cock head and said:

- That’s it! Cut! Thank you all! Get dressed!

The command was given just in time, because literally three minutes a crowd of crazy radio guys including the creator of the promo clip rushed into the studio. They all were eager to catch us at the most delicate time. But we were sitting on the couch at the decent distance entirely dressed.

The promo, by the way, turned out to be excellent.