The BBC researcher who telephoned me was brilliant at her job. She was looking for an ‘expert’ on a particular topic to appear on the next morning’s ‘Breakfast’ the flagship morning television news programme and assured me that I was her first choice. We discussed the issue to be aired, which basically involved me advising her on what were the right questions to be asked and the level of detail that it was appropriate to respond with. She put me at ease and advised me that a car would pick me up at 4am.
I had done it once before many years ago and so the routine and layout were not unfamiliar. One of the editors chatted to me about the topic and after some wardrobe and make up advice I was taken through to the green room where everyone was tucking in to a good breakfast. And so I met the other guests who were there to talk about their particular niche. One lady in particular caught my eye, a scientist who was there to talk about the effects of both global warming and deforestation on some of the world’s banana plantations. We hit it off straight away and were soon chatting together, and hey, she’d brought bananas for everyone!
According to the running schedule, our pieces were to be on consecutively and as there was a little cross-over between our two fields of ‘expertise’ it was decided that we would be sitting together on the famous ‘Breakfast’ sofa in case there was a need to bring each in on the other’s discussion. We both agreed that we’d be happy to do that, since by now we were getting on very well and were indeed openly flirting with each other.
We decided that we’d both go through to the wardrobe department together since we fancied helping each other to get into the clothing that we’d brought with us to wear. The wardrobe assistant was there to make sure that we both looked presentable and neat, no loose threads, no patterns to cause strobing etc. and no nasty stains that we’d failed to spot. We revelled at her attentions as we undressed each other and couldn’t help getting quite a thrill knowing that she was watching us make out whilst pretending to get ready.
Finally we were ready and were taken onto the studio floor and met with Susanna Reid, the presenter who was to be introducing our topics and interviewing us. We were told that it would be quite a while though before the first of our pieces as they had the local news and weather, the national weather, the headlines, the sports and the morning’s financial news before they’d be coming back live to the studio to us. We were told to relax as we’d be given plenty of warning.
So with all the preparations over, we were able once more to relax with other. Nobody in the studio was taking any notice of us, in fact there was hardly anyone there as they’d all taken advantage of the opportunity for a toilet and refreshment break. So naturally the scientist and I quickly resumed our fumblings. She was hot and certainly had ‘expert’ hands. We were soon practically undressing each other, turning each other on with our talk about just how funny it would be if those cameras in the studio were actually live. Of course we knew that they weren’t and that the nation was chewing its cornflakes to the local traffic news and weather where they were. We had loads of time.
The scientist kept looking at the big bowl of bananas that she’d brought into the studio to share and to help demonstrate her point about the decline of the plantations. They were good bananas, long and firm with a slight gentle curve. She picked one out and without peeling it, started to suck on it seductively. Then she put it into my mouth and had me do the same. There I was in a television studio, soon to be on the air addressing the nation on a serious issue and I was currently practically naked fellating a banana at the insistence of a hot scientist. She took more and more control and I soon felt that I was under her spell.
And I could tell what she wanted. She wanted to fuck me with it. Nothing else would satisfy her dirty mind. Without a care I knelt up on the sofa at her request and watched as she sucked on the big yellow fruit before she pushed it up against my boy cunt. With a few gently twists and turns she started to push it home, my slutty groans serving only to encourage her. By now she was a woman possessed and was fucking me with abandonment. For my part it was so good. I didn’t care who might be watching; the wardrobe girl, the floor manager, the sound guy, I just didn’t care. I flung my head back and begged her not to stop fucking me. I felt like a whore and was loving it. My groaning was spurring her on and it was obvious just how turned …..
“And we’re back in five … four … three … “
We both froze. The studio was packed, everyone had come back. Susanna Reid was next to us on the big red sofa. The floor manager’s countdown continued silently through “two … one” and the lights came up. The director cued Susanna who was looking at us, a look of sheer panic on her face. The cameras were on us. The nation was watching us, the sound of dropped tea cups reverberating the length of the land.
“Buggery.” She said without a moment’s hesitation.
“We investigate the ins and outs of this growing popular sub-fetish. And with us in the studio we have two experts …”