Julie Lynn Cialini : It's Showtime!!

Julie Lynn Cialini : It's Showtime!!

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Julie Cialini was Playboy's Miss February 1994 and Playboy's 1995 Playmate of the Year. She has also appeared in many Playboy's popular videos like Playboy Wet & Wild: The Locker Room (1994), Playboy: Sexy Lingerie VI, Dreams & Desire (1994), Playboy Wet & Wild: Hot Holidays (1995) and Playboy: Cheerleaders (1997). Julie has also appeared in numerous commercials, magazine covers, TV shows including a stint on the The Price Is Right (1994), and playmate Fear Factor (2001), and feature films. Most recently she starred in Watchful Eye (2002), Wolfhound (2002) and American Crime (2004). She loved being a playmate and she loved making the videos most of all.


Julie Cialini was Playboy's Miss February 1994 and Playboy's 1995 Playmate of the Year. She has also appeared in many Playboy's popular videos like Playboy Wet & Wild: The Locker Room (1994), Playboy: Sexy Lingerie VI, Dreams & Desire (1994), Playboy Wet & Wild: Hot Holidays (1995) and Playboy: Cheerleaders (1997). Julie has also appeared in numerous commercials, magazine covers, TV shows including a stint on the The Price Is Right (1994), and playmate Fear Factor (2001), and feature films. Most recently she starred in Watchful Eye (2002), Wolfhound (2002) and American Crime (2004). She loved being a playmate and she loved making the videos most of all.


Submitted: June 10, 2014

A A A | A A A


Submitted: June 10, 2014



Buzz saws, power drills, the clatter of aluminum ladders, and the pounding of hammers, the cacophonous  roar shook Julie Lynn Cialini like an earthquake; she was trying to listen to the production manager explain the plan for the shoot but the noise of set construction and electrics set up and load in was overwhelming; he had a clipboard with a series of panels illustrating the action and he was explaining the complex motion of the cameras but Julie couldn’t focus and she could barely hear him.

On the other side of the production manager the actor that would be in shoot with her was leaning over and looking over the story boards. He had a cocky smirk on his face and he pointed at one panel, a panel that showed a sketch of the man and woman on the bed. In the video that man and woman would be the actor and the luscious playmate;  the sketch showed the woman’s legs straight in the air, the man between them lunging in deep and hard as the woman screamed in ecstasy. The artist who had drawn these panels clearly was a fan of Ms Cialini and had rendered the blissful face in great detail. The actor glanced at Julie and grinned; his mouth moved and Julie couldn’t hear him which was fine with her.  The production manager shrugged. A ladder clanged like an alarm and all three looked up at the complex set being built. The actor laughed. “Why didn’t we just use a Mansion bedroom?” he asked in a loud voice over the sound of power tools. The production manager sighed and for the tenth time explained the complicated camera motion requiring the elaborate setting. Julie wandered away to find a cup of water.

Something about the sight of two dozen brawny workers sweating and grunting to build a bedroom where she would act in an erotic video was intriguing. She imagined one of the carpenters taking her over to the bed and ravishing her, her nails tearing over his rock hard muscles. She didn’t notice that the actor had sidled over; he suddenly appeared next to her and he leaned in and spoke close to her ear, his words moist and hot as his mouth brushed over her ear. “What’d you say, we go someplace a practice for the shoot. I hear you give great head.”

Everything moved in slow motion. She took a step back and lifted her arm. Her face blazed in fury. Her hand extended behind her head and swung forward. The slap was loud and sharp. Just at the moment her flat palm made contact with his smirking face all the noise had abruptly stopped. The snapping wallop of her smack filled the room and everybody turned to look. Julie looked around and blushed; she turned and left the set, her high heels clacking over the floor nervously.

The beautiful playmate sat in her dressing room and fumed, uncertain whether she was more angry about his crude suggestion or her own loss of control. Slowly the noise of construction and load in began to fade and she knew that the fateful call would be coming soon.

The knock on the door came in four ponderous beats like the opening of that Beethoven symphony. Dumm, dumm, dumm…Dummm. Julie rose slowly and silently left the dressing room.

The set looked like an arena rock show, all lights and all focus on the bed in the center of the room. It seemed to float in space; this was the climax of a fantasy sequence, the preliminaries to be shot on separate sets. The actor stood at the foot of the bed wearing that obnoxious smirk and nothing else.

Julie stepped onto the set, her head high and dignified. She glanced at the actor and his hands crossed over his prodigious equipment. She smirked herself; sure it was big but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging that. She peered into the lights and called out to the production director. “We have a problem here,” she said calmly.

“What is it, Julie?” The director’s voice floated out of the darkness beyond the lights.

“Laughing boy, here,” Julie said, gesturing vaguely toward the actor. “He’s not ready yet.”

The actor’s smirk grew even more obnoxious and he gestured toward the full tumescence of his shaft as if to mock the playmate’s objection.

But Julie just smiled slyly. “He’s supposed to be wearing the diaper thingie.”

The actor’s face dropped. The diaper probably had some technical term but he didn’t know what it was. What he did know was that it was a flesh colored barrier that went over his groin to cover the very equipment he was flaunting and teasing with. Not only was it embarrassing but the adhesive was worse than a bandage on a hairy guy. And he was a very hairy guy.

Julie noted his dismay. “It’s in the contract,” she said helpfully.

The PD sighed. “OK, let’s get this done. Sorry Julie.”

The actor skulked toward the dressing room and Julie blew him a mocking kiss and sat on the bed to wait.

He came out about ten minutes later looking chastised and meek; with the flesh colored barrier on he looked more like a eunuch than a stud which suited Julie just fine. She rose and slipped out of her robe. The crew actually gasped at the site of her nude body. Pretty rather than beautiful, she had a slim flapperish figure, but she used what she had to maximum advantage, and there was something vibrantly sexy about her ravenous, bird of prey gaze. Any man she looked at wanted to meet it and be devoured by it, to be devoured completely by this stunning girl.

She wasn’t cruel but she was wicked, delightfully depraved. And her depravity was playful and entertaining. The crew appreciated the way she vamped and strutted once she had gained the upper hand over the vain actor; they hadn’t liked the guy anyway. Sure he got to fondle the body of the lithe and lively girl. He got her kisses, but it was all teasing; every touch, every kiss was a reminder of the delights he wouldn’t have. And she played the seduction and sex scene with a broad depraved grin, mocking and terrible for the actor but hilarious and righteous for the crew. And just like in the story board, the last scene showed the Julie’s  shapely legs straight in the air, the man between them lunging in deep and hard as feigned an orgasm and screamed in ecstasy. Her blissful face was mocking the frustrations of the rude man she was acting with and she might even have admitted that frustrating him was getting her aroused.

When the director finally yelled “cut” for the last time the actor was relieved and ready to sulk away but Julie, supine and sexy on the satin sheets with her naked body glistening with sweat, touched his bare butt as he retreated. “Wait,” she said in a husky voice. He turned and allowed his supercilious grin to return; at last she was going to yield to his charms.

Her long nails scratched over the edge of the flesh colored barrier over his groin. “This must be so…uncomfortable,” she purred. “Let me help you with that.”

He smirked at the crew now, as if to say it was obvious that the beautiful playmate couldn’t resist him.  She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling and moist, her smile seductive and teasing.

A brief moment of silence separated the ripping sound from his howl. The lovely girl, a devilishly angelic look on her face, in one sharp sweep of her arm had ripped the barrier off his body, taking with it most of the hair around his groin. His sarcastic smile froze and his eyes teared up; pain shot through his body like a bullet train. His mouth then opened and his howl echoed through the studio. Still in shock he hobbled toward his dressing room as the crew applauded Julie’s performance. The wardrobe girl helped her with her robe and the tall playmate strutted to her own dressing room, blowing kisses as she went.

But when she closed the door behind her and looked at herself in the mirror she shook her head. The vixen smiling back from the glass was telling her that her work wasn’t finished yet. Sure that guy was a jerk but the tingles when he licked her nipples and squeezed her tight rear end, those were heavenly and she still felt, well, excited. The vixen in the mirror nodded to her, “You go girl,” the gaze seemed to say.

She pressed her back to the door, palms pressed over the wood. She could still hear the applause and laughter of the crew and this heightened her excitement. She pictured the camera men and the production staff; she pictured the carpenters and electricians. So many different men, some geeky and thin with glasses and some burly and sweaty in ripped jeans.

The girl in the mirror winked again, “You go girl.” Julie grinned and turned around and opened the door.

The click of the latch was a signal to every man in the studio; every gaze was turned to the slender and tall playmate standing in the doorway of the dressing room. Her eyes, sparkling and intense, surveyed each man in the room before settling on a set painter, a gangling figure with an Ichabod Crane demeanor. She giggled and thought about the story she had read in high school; because she was from New York State the Legend of Sleepy Hollow was always favorite, and the description of Ichabod was perfect for the painter she was eying now: “He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together. His head was small, and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weather-cock, perched upon his spindle neck, to tell which way the wind blew.” Yeah, this guy was Ichabod Crane from head to toe. “Sure, why not?” she decided.

She fixed her gaze, now downcast and slightly demure, on the gangly figure. She lifted a slender arm and crooked her finger in the universal sign for ‘Come on over here, baby. I plan to rock your world.’ Ichabod looked around the room and then gave her a nervous ‘who me?’ look. She jiggled her finger once more, and to emphasize her point she darted her eyes back into the private dressing room for a moment.

The rest of the crew watched this little comedy and helped it along. A couple of burly roadies slapped Ichabod on the back, almost knocking him over. He coughed and struggled to regain his breath as they escorted him toward the dressing room.

Smiling slyly Julie backed into the room and watched as her prince stumbled forward with the support of the two stage hands. His legs bowed out under him and his Adam’s apple bobbled up and down his throat like an express elevator. The men pushed him into the room and saluted the beautiful playmate before they closed the door.

The man stood close to the door, nervously shifting his weight from leg to leg; because he was so tall he swung like a metronome. He crossed his arms, then, deciding that was wrong, he dropped them and folded his hands in front of him, but he didn’t like that either so he put them behind his back, then he tried hands on hips, hands behind head, then crossed his arms once more. With each change his long limbs flew out like geese lifting off the water. He was about to go through the whole dance again when Julie giggled and held up a hand. He froze in place except for the bobbling Adam’s apple which made a gurgling noise to accompany her laughter.

“What’s your name, tiger?” she said not unkindly.

“Skjøld Dzieduszycki,” he blurted out, “B-b-b-but my f-f-fr-friends c-c-c-alll me Zazenowany.”

She arched a brow. “Well, how ‘bout I just call you Ichabod.”

“Ik-ik-ik Ichabod?”

“He’s a hero in a story.” She stood casually, without the slightest affectation, but her stance could have been a perfect pose for a centerfold. She leaned forward slightly, head cocked, hand on hip, ready for something new. The arched eyebrows, the amused eyes, the crimson lips, everything about her said ‘yes’ to an indecent proposal. She waited for a lewd suggestion but apparently he still wanted to discuss obscure characters from American literature. Anybody could read a book, but Julie Lynn could make anybody dream. “He’s a hero in a story,” she repeated, making it sound like a sexy idea.


She decided to change the subject. “Ichabod, I’m holding auditions for a video.”

“Vi-vi-vi…” He was about to go off again but she raised a finger to silence him. He kept sliding down the back of the door, his legs bowing out then straightening to lift him up again.

“Yes, a video. I’m not crazy about the guys they’ve been hiring.” Her face broke into the most lasciviously beautiful smile. Her eyes sparkled.

“That guy was a do-do-dou-douche.”

She arched her brow again. “Yes, he was.”  She looked at him earnestly. “Would you like to audition for my video?” She gave him a doe-eyed gaze. “I’m running my own casting couch.”

He looked around the room, his long neck craning. “K-k-couch?” he sputtered, noticing there was no couch in the room.

Exasperated Julie strutted to the make-up table. Looking at him now in the mirror she swept her arm and all the clutter clattered to the floor. “Now there is,” she said flatly. With her back still facing him but in full view of the mirror she dropped her arms to her side. She shifted her shoulders slightly and the robe slid down her back. Ichabod gulped audibly, his eyes racing from the view of her tight firm ass before him and the two ripe breasts in the mirror. “Well, do you want to audition?”

His head bobbed up and down and the Adam’s apple bobbled even more, “Ahhyeah,” he managed to spit out. He was clumsy but he wasn’t stupid.

She turned around. Now her ass was displayed in the mirror and her two luscious breasts were right in front of him with rock hard nipples stretching out for his touch. Her pussy glistened with golden red curls already moist with arousal.

 “Well, you understand Ichabod, that you will have to work in the nude.” Before he could finish sputtering  “New-new-new-nude?” she interrupted. “Yes. Nude. Buck naked.” She waved a hand vaguely. “So, let’s get started big boy.”

Ichabod fumbled over the buttons of his work shirt and managed to wriggle out of it without disaster. He ripped his undershirt in the urgency of getting it over his head. Julie watched with bemusement as he unbuckled his pants and shoved down his jeans; she knew there would be trouble because he had not taken his work boots off first. His lanky frame stumbled around the room as he tried to push the pants down while pulling the boots off at the same time. When he finally managed to complete the task he was right in front of the naked playmate.

He was crouched down in an awkward jumble of limbs and he was exactly eye-level to her glorious V of glistening red curls; Julie Lynn’s bush was lustrous and luscious. He rose slowly, studying her slim waist and flat belly, pausing for a moment to ponder the deep and cute navel. Her breasts were firm and jutting straight out; he almost poked his eye on one of the rock hard nipples. Then there was her face, bird-like and fine boned like the face of a supermodel.  He seemed to take forever to stand up straight; it was like watching a tree grow, he was that tall. Her heart leapt because he was much taller than she and that was fine with her. Her eyes flashed with excitement. She was going to enjoying doing this guy.

She smiled and lightly scratched over his bare chest. She looked up into his face shyly. “You know, Ichabod, we’re going to have to practice, you know, kissing?” She bent her face up and stood on tip toe, her naked breasts caressing over the hair on his chest, her slender arms slinked around his neck.

Julie was almost six feet tall so it was rare for her to need to stretch up for a kiss and the thrill now was palpable. Their lips met softly and she parted hers gently over his. She grazed over his face, sighing through her slightly parted lips, blowing moist sweet air over his skin.

Once more her warm lips softly pressed over his; this time her tongue darted out teasingly. She pulled her head back for a moment and met his eyes. She licked her lips, the gliding of tongue over moist rosy lips was a promise and she lifted her head to keep that promise.

Their tongues intertwined in a mad dance; the kiss was soaring and exhilarating. The kiss took them into the air and they soared over lush and verdant jungle, they flew through thunderous and passionate waterfalls. Julie’s body trembled in arousal and she kissed with more and more intensity; vehement in her lust she pulled herself closer to him, her nipples stabbing into his chest.

Julie’s lithe and languid body writhed over his as she poured herself into his mouth. When the kiss broke she leaned her head back, still dangling from his neck, and she laughed. She stepped back and once more her nails scratched down his chest and over his belly. Her fingers paused over the elastic of his boxers and for a brief electric moment Ichabod expected her to yank them down. Instead she licked over his lips and down his chin and throat. Her tongue, pink and glistening softly, caressed over his chest and spiraled over his navel. It traced a moist line over the elastic but then the boxers began to slowly be tugged down, the tongue teasing over every inch of skin that was bared by the slow progress of the underwear.

The skin under the waistband was hypersensitive of course and each teasing touch of her lips and each moist breeze of her breath made him groan with pleasure. Slowly, slowly the boxers slid down; her nails scratching the skin as she tugged the garment, her tongue gliding along the delicious surface of his bared body.

A few curls sprang out over the elastic and Julie knew what was coming; she brushed her cheek over those curls and continued the slow stripping of the man. Then, almost like a jack in the box the cock sprang up and slapped against her face. She giggled; on her knees now she shoved the boxers all the way down and tossed them away.

Julie’s face radiated mischief and wickedness but also genuine pleasure and excitement. This was her favorite moment, the part she liked best; she was down on her knees in front of a, you know, a big cock. She was going to give him head that he would remember for the rest of his life. She was going to eat him for breakfast, lunch and dinner and then have him for a midnight snack. God, she loved it she thought to herself as she happily set about pleasuring his cock with her mouth.

She held his hips and leaned back, scrutinizing his cock with an expert eye; her broad smile showed that the liked what she saw.  She pressed her check against his belly; his cock slid over her soft shoulder. Looking up at him with wicked eyes she nuzzled her face into his navel; her lips parted, her tongue came out and slowly she licked down his body. Her tongue wriggled through the curls over his crotch like a glittering pink snake slithering through a jungle.  The pink snake played like a sprite in the jungle then moved on, licking his upper thigh then ticking the crease between his thigh and his crotch. Finally, the tongue teased and danced over his balls and she giggled as he groaned.

Slowly and delicately the tongue and the lips worked their way over to his balls; still gripping his hips she bounced his balls teasingly over her tongue, the entire time looking up at him playfully.  As if accepting a dare her tongue with excruciating slowness stretched towards the base of his cock. The tip touched the base and slowly she licked around it. In a carefully planned spiral she licked up his shaft, taking her time, taking minutes that seemed endless as his cock throbbed under the delicate touch of her tongue.

At long last, with her nails digging into his hips, her lips arrived at the head of his cock; the glistening pink tip of her tongue tickled over the little slit and just as he thought he was going to come her lips formed an O and she began to slowly glide the shaft into her mouth. The wet warmth of her mouth, millimeter by millimeter, slowly engulfing his cock, the pleasure was unbearable; Ichabod’s legs were giving out and he leaned against the makeup table to support himself. Her mouth progressed regally over his throbbing shaft, slowly sucking him down her throat one delicious slurp at a time.

If Julie had a talent that set her apart from every other playmate, this was it: she gave head like angels dispensed grace. Julie was the Beatles of oral sex. If she were in a beauty contest she would win it all with this talent. Her mouth was made to suck cock and she sucked his cock like it was royal treasure.  Each millimeter oozing into her sweet mouth felt a different sensation; the sensations were an encyclopedia of erotic expertise. She slowly shifted her hands to his rear and grabbing his ass, clutching his flesh with her nails, her head moved inexorably closer to the base of his shaft, taking the throbbing cock deep into her throat in delicious increments.

For Julie Lynn Cialini sucking dick was a matter of time; plenty of playmates could deep throat but Julie could deep throat and hold it down. It took an interminable amount of time for her to get the whole mass of his cock down her throat but when her lips engulfed the base she playfully nuzzled her nose into the hairs around it. Then she set to work creating a masterpiece of head, the ultimate exemplar of cock sucking.

Even though her head was still, his hands nestled in her luxuriant hair; inside her mouth cosmic forces were playing over every nerve ending of his cock. Her throat rippled like a thousand teasing fingers and the moistness of her mouth gushed over his veins like a waterfall. They remained in erotic tableau, the gorgeous playmate nude and on her knees before her lover. The lanky man trembled like a tree in a storm, solid and fragile at once. The only sounds in the room were his soft moans and her delicate gulping as her lips and tongue and teeth and throat all worked to maximize his arousal.

Julie was so expert that she could control his orgasm like a conductor controls a massive orchestra. She allowed a short burst to blast early on but then she kept stoking, teasing and tightening so that that when he finally came it would reach Wagnerian heights inside her throat.  She sucked and slurped, working him like the finest Stradivarius.

She knelt before him in front of the make up table and with sidelong glances she could see herself giving him head. Her naked body was kneeling but her back was straight, every line and curve perfect; her supple arms were around his waist in a graceful arch and her long fingers were tense as they dug deep into the flesh of his ass. The only movement of her body was the slight bobbing of her head over his cock but each gentle sway made her brown hair shimmer in the lights around the mirror. Even with his cock deep down her throat her face was serene and warm and flawless; her eyes were bright and alive, her cheeks rosy and her lips formed in a perfect O around the shaft.

Time was irrelevant as if he were in a fever dream. Although outwardly they moved only slightly, inside the delicious playmates mouth a universe of erotic galaxies were being born. Time was endless and Julie liked to suck cock for a long long time. She was in her own space and her own time; her mind savored the sensation of throbbing inside her mouth and she loved it. She had a dick in her mouth, her very own dick to suck for as long as she liked. She was in charge. She took her time and sucked and slurped with care and variety and her mind drifted into her own special world and she conjured up the names for the delicious toy in her mouth: artillerie de cupidon (a French man taught her that,) a barge pole (a boy back in Rochester gave her that one,) candy cane, dick-tator, eager pleaser, fuck muscle, gearstick d’amour (the Frenchman again,) holy poker, idol, jimbo, kazoo, ladies’ lollipop, main vein, night stick, Oscar Meyer, piccolo, quim-stick, ramrod, sex bone, thing-a-ling, uncle dick, veiny salami, wangdoodle,  (Damn but she could never think of anything for x, but she sucked on) yum-yum bar, zipperfish. When she got to the end of the alphabet, she sucked even harder as she went back to the beginning. Aaron’s rod, bone phone, cherry splitter, daddy longdick, engine of love, foot long, giggle stick, hot rod, jackhammer…she went on and on, floating in her own world of bliss as she sucked him on and on, her mouth warm and wet and eager.

Finally, she gasped, sensing that the explosion was coming. The cock jerked sharply and he thrust in and out of her mouth rapidly and her head bobbed eagerly. His head dropped back and he howled and he unleashed a massive storm deep down her throat. Her nails dug in deeper and she held herself steady and gulped it all down. When she finally milked him dry she released him with her lips smacking her eyes laughing.

She rose now and the face she saw was a changed man. Ichabod was now a sex machine. In a frenzy of lust he bent her back and started in on her breasts. He suckled with exuberant ferocity, suckled with an unrelenting frenzy that caused Julie to roll her head ecstatically back and forth and to groan (as Marilyn Monroe herself may have once groaned), "I feel it deep down in my cunt," he was pierced by the sharpest of longings; he had to fuck her.
In a moment she was facing the mirror her palms flat on the glass. He was behind her and his cock barreled in. This was the kind of sex that had to be called banging. He banged her and banged her good and hard.

“Ooooh, Ichabod,” she gushed in amazement as his cock slammed in and out of her sweet snatch. He rammed in hard and her face almost slapped against the mirror. Almost wasn’t good enough so he barreled in again and her face did hit the glass. Now he grabbed her wrists and went to town, pumping in and out of her like a demon.

“Oooooooh, Ichabod,” she purred appreciatively and let herself go. With his dick still deep inside her, without a pause in his relentless banging, she managed to maneuver herself around to face him. “Ooooooh Ichabod, you’re making me come,” she squealed.

The onslaught of her orgasm enthralled him. The climax overtook her seemingly from without, breaking upon her like a catastrophe, a hailstorm freakishly exploding in the middle of a summer day. All that had been going on before the orgasm was for her some sort of attack that she could do nothing to repel but that, however arduous, she could endlessly absorb and easily survive; yet in the frenzy of her climax, the thrashing, the whimpering, the loud groaning, the blazing eyes demanding attention, the fingernails digging into his back-- that seemed a barely tolerable experience from which she might never recover. Julie’s orgasm was like a convulsion, the body bolting its skin.

Then as abruptly as that summer hailstorm could end the climax froze and faded; Julie giggled almost with relief but her respite was short lived. He began pumping again, galloping into her; another orgasm was deep inside her, a climax to be hunted and she was the bloodthirsty huntress. This orgasm required everything from her, an urging onward that was breathtaking to watch. Julie had to fight for it as it resisted its own rising; this orgasm was not a natural development but something so rare that it had to be laboriously hauled into existence. She hovered in a suspenseful, heroic dimension, struggling to achieve this climax. He thrust in deeper and harder and there was anguish on his face and hers. Something was wrong, seriously wrong. But then, when he was about to collapse in defeat, she made it, she did it, in at the kill, riding now atop him, her entire being compressed in her cunt. She thrashed and bucked, the goddess of the hunt, and she took it all. But she stopped and giggled again. “Oh wow,” she whispered as she came yet again. This was slow and easy, like tossing a pebble into a pond. His cock shot a wad into her and the rippling uncoiled sinuously from the center point outward until the entire pond was undulating and aquiver with light.

Exhausted, he collapsed against her, his face on her shoulder. “Does this mean I get the part in your video,” he asked earnestly. Julie’s candy colored smirk bloomed into a delighted laugh.


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