Patti McGuire and her jukebox

Patti McGuire and her jukebox

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Patti McGuire, Miss November 1976 and Playmate of the Year 1977, plays on the set of her centerfold shoot.


Patti McGuire, Miss November 1976 and Playmate of the Year 1977, plays on the set of her centerfold shoot.


Submitted: April 18, 2013

A A A | A A A


Submitted: April 18, 2013



Patti McGuire had never imagined herself in Hollywood; of course, for years she dreamed of being a playmate and through fierce determination and some fortuitous circumstances (like having an astoundingly killer body and a gorgeously seductive face) she was at the Mansion, just a few miles from Tinseltown, and she was about to shoot her centerfold for Miss November. OK, she never imagined herself in Hollywood, but it sure felt like Hollywood here in the studio. Down the hall the Mansion was all elegant oak paneling and plush upholstered furniture and paintings suitable for fine museums.  Inside the studio one side of the room looked like one of those behind the scenes views of a movie: huge lights on stands, a big camera on a tripod, tables piled up with wires and filters and lumber and paint. But on the other side of the room, well it was like in one step you could go from Hollywood and Vine to Highway 60 heading out from Monett, Missouri to Arnett, Oklahoma.

The set was meant to evoke CB radio country, a flat blacktop two lane in the middle of nowhere, nothing between each redneck town except some rough and tumble roads houses, places with hard liquor and cold beer and jukeboxes spinning records about rednecks and truckers and cowboys; these roadhouses were wild and dangerous, especially to pretty girls in tight dresses. Why a girl in one of these places, unescorted, she’d find herself stripped bare and balled right there on the plaid cloth on the piney table, or banged hard, drilled against the jukebox so that Johnny Cash skipped beats as he sang along with the trucker fucking his pretty little peach.

That’s what Patti imagined for herself as she wandered the set. The shoot was in the morning and it would take days to finish. She had just finished the fittings for her dress and she still couldn’t believe how sexy she looked and how sexy she felt. Even the necklace, filigree shell, translucent and soft in the shape of butterfly wings, the charm accented the warm and sensuous contours of her throat, her skin glowing and begging to be kissed and suckled.

The dress was a summery thing, light white cotton and thin straps so her soft shoulders would be bare; delicate flowers were printed in a simple pattern, soft flowers to suggest the girl’s pliability and vulnerability and sweetness.  God, she would be a sweet fuck wouldn’t she? The dress was modest in that it covered her from her ankles to across her shoulders, but the tight fit over her breasts and around her waist left no doubt of the sexy body throbbing under the thin fabric, and the snaps, so easy to open; Patti couldn’t wait to strip for the camera.

She looked in a mirror and decided that she would do her, do the luscious nymphet grinning back from the glass. She felt almost like she would come as she walked around the set, sashaying in the tight dress and picturing herself in a roadhouse out on Highway 60, rough hands grabbing her and ripping off the dress…damn, her imagination could certainly take a trip couldn’t it? It was late now, the crew and staff were all gone; Patti couldn’t sleep though so she wandered the set imagining, hoping she would get raped right here. Now that would be a centerfold image to remember!

The about to be Miss November wandered over the set, her four inch fuck me heels clicking delicately on the wood floor and echoing in the empty and dimly lit space. Without giving it much thought she flicked on some of the lights, the neon beer sign, some lights over the faux bar, and the jukebox. God, the jukebox, it glowed in amber light, seemingly radiating sin. She loved that jukebox and already the light was warming its surface; she longed to feel her ass against it as some trucker drilled into her, slapping her against the glass. One of her legs would be hooked over his arms as he gripped the side of the jukebox; her other leg would be stretching down, trying to find purchase on the floor. Her hands would be on his chest, half pushing him away, half drawing him in; her mouth would be his and his tongue would be raping her hard and deep just like his cock was, ramming in and out, in and out. God, she loved that jukebox!! Her elegant finger pressed a couple of buttons and the country twang vibrated through her.

She rocked her hips in a sensual dance while Merle Haggard sang about his Cherokee Maiden; she hummed along, then sang “I'll carry her away with me. And straight as an arrow flies, we'll ride to paradise.” Her hand was over her pussy, resisting sliding in under the fabric, her head was back with her hair streaming down, her eyes closed and her lips parted and she let the music fuck her long and hard, straight as an arrow, balling her to paradise.

The golden light from the jukebox mingled with the purple neon infusing her already tan skin with the luminosity of sexual craving.  The records kept spinning and she kept gyrating in her erotic reverie; loosing track of the time and the songs, she let an urgent sensual hunger tighten its grip on her. She mostly hummed, a soft seductive purring in tune but sometimes she sang along too, “I'd get it one piece at a time and it wouldn't cost me a dime you'll know it's me when I come la dee dum I'm gonna ride you in style I'm gonna drive everybody wild ‘cause I'll have the only one there is a round.” God, she needed to get laid. Now.

The cough was sharp and nervous; clearly the person coughing had struggled mightily to suppress it. The cough came right in the echoing silence between records. Patti, froze and cocked her head toward the noise, her attitude almost feral as she probed the dark corners of the studio. The next song came on but Patti was listening fiercely for the other person in the room. “Come out,” she said, her voice low and vague.

The young man stepped from behind some flats from a different set, his expression shy in his embarrassment and his hands deep in his pockets.  Patti grinned and sang along with the record, “The hard part's over and the loving part begins.” She slowly moved towards him, her steps careful as if approaching a wild dog, “What’s your name big boy?” she said softly.  Her eyes roved over him, his muscular build, his bare chest under the bib of the loose overalls, his obvious pleasure in seeing her.

He may have had a mammoth erection but he was also massively embarrassed. “Norman,” he mumbled, giving the playmate’s luscious body sidelong glances as she came closer. His nostrils flared as her scent wafted over him.

“Hello…Norman,” she said as if tasting him. “I’m Patti. Patti McGuire. I’m going to be Miss November,” she spoke with a sly smile barely concealed and her body jiggling as if to prove her credentials for playmate status.

“I know,” he grumbled and he started to move his hands as if to hide the boner that seemed to be another person in the room. But Patti was close enough to brush his bare arms away, her eyes brazenly admiring his equipment, her fingers lightly caressing the muscles of his forearms.

“How did you know that, Norman?” Again his name rolled around in her mouth as though her tongue were licking it.

He could almost feel sparks where her fingers lightly touched the skin on his arm. She was standing arms length away and ran her fingers up onto his shoulder. Using her nail she traced the edge of the denim strap of the overalls. Her hand scratched the skin above the bib, wandering across his chest, then her fingers slowly slid down his side. “How did you know my name, Norman?” she asked again with a sexy tease in her voice.

“I was here this afternoon when they were setting the lights. My uncle’s the head carpenter.” He made a half hearted gesture towards the set and Patti remembered him lingering around, helping the carpenters earlier today when she had stood on the almost finished set so they could test some lights.

“What are you doing here now, Norman?” Her palm was pressed on his bare skin right below his armpit and her fingers were brushing along his ribs. Her eyes were twinkling with evil lust.

“I had a fight with my girlfriend,” he moaned. “My uncle had the keys for the studio…” He gasped as she squeezed a handful of his flesh. “…I was gonna crash in the dressing room.”

Her hand slid down his side and down into the overalls. Her eyes stayed fixed on his. “So your girl friend, Norman? Are you rough with her?” Her hand caressed across his belly wandering between the denim and his skin. Slowly her fingers edged downward, her eyes sparkled with anticipation. Her nails began to engage his pubic hair. “Norman? Are you listening to me, Norman? Did you come here to punish your girl friend? Punish her by raping a playmate, Norman?” Her hand was lightly touching his cock and her eyes showed disbelief as her hand wandered down further and further along its length. It was almost as long as her forearm and seemed almost as thick. “Norman?” she asked in a whisper, “Are you here to rape me, Norman?”

“I….” he groaned as her fingers made a ring around his cock as if measuring its power. Patti’s eyes reflected her admiration.

“Norman, you’re so big and strong…so very big, Norman. I’m just a helpless girl. I can’t stop you from doing anything you want to do.” With her free hand she undid the top snap of her dress. “Do you want to …to do things Norman? Do you want to do me, Norman? I’m just a helpless girl, Norman; I couldn’t stop you. What are you going to do to me, Norman?”

They were silent for a moment, Patti standing so close that her moist breath breezed over his lips. Her eyes were smoldering and her lips were glistening; a peek of sweet pink tongue could be seen darting in and out. Her arm was stretched down in the overalls, running parallel to the fierce throbbing of his cock. Her fingertips were teasing over its head. Another snap came undone.

She took his hand and placed it on the button that marked the next snap. His fingers fumbled desperately trying to undo a button that was merely sewn on for show. She giggled as the button was ripped off. “Oh Norman,” she sighed, giving his cock a delicate squeeze. “You’re so big and strong and rough, Norman. I can’t stop you from tearing off my clothes…and raping me.” She helped his fingers undo the third snap. “Are you going to rape me, Norman?”

“I…” he grunted. The fourth snap came undone and the dress spread open, giving a display of the smooth flesh under her throat and between her breasts; only the stiffness and length of her nipples held the top of the dress now.

Patti looked down at her own near nakedness and liked what she saw. “Oh Norman, I’m completely helpless; you’re so big and strong, Norman,” and here she gave his cock another loving squeeze before sliding her hand out, “And so fierce, Norman. You’re so domineering. What can I do?”

She lifted his hand and took his left thumb into her warm moist mouth. Her hands then rested on his shoulders and she slowly shoved the overall straps down his right arm, scratching his skin with her nails as she worked. “Mmmm,” she mumbled, teasing and taunting his thumb with her teeth and tongue as she stripped him. She opened the clap of the left side and flipped the strap off his shoulder. The bib and straps dropped and dangled around his waist. Her eyes were bright with excitement and her nails scratched over his bare chest, making circles as her hands slowly lowered, teasing over his belly then rushing over the edge of the overalls before shoving them down around his ankles.  He stood naked except for cowboy boots and the denim gathered at his feet. The thumb popped out of her mouth as she gasped. “My god, Norman, you’re… your…you…You’re a monster.”

The cock was extended perpendicular from his body and, even standing a foot away from her, it tickled her belly.

She had the urge to giggle but the music from the jukebox was a plaintive moan of country guitars, “Till the rivers all run dry, ‘till the sun falls from the sky, ‘till life on earth is through, I’ll be needing you.” And she wanted to sing along, so urgent and desperate was her need. Instead she hummed along as she walked backwards, her dress barely covering her breasts and open now to below her navel. “Norman, it’s so big. I bet you really know how to use that big thing on a girl. Are you going to use it on me, Norman?” She backed against the edge of the plaid covered table. “Norman, I’m trapped here. You can do me right here on this table.”

The dress slid down her shoulders and her magnificent breast rose to meet his gaze. The rest of the snaps seemed to open of their own accord as she lifted her bottom onto the table and sucked her thumb alluringly.  He shuffled over, grunting; since he couldn’t work the overalls off his boots he headed towards her in a crablike walk. The jukebox sang along with what his face was showing, “And it's beginning to feel like this might be one of those sometimes, those one times in a lifetime. I'm aching to hold you kiss and console you drive you right out of your mind but I know when I do I won't get over you for quite sometimes.”

In the last couple of feet he stumbled badly, his boots tangled in the denim; he fell forward into her wide open arms and her wide open legs. Of course his cock lunged forward too, impaling her with a couple of inches of manly fury. Patti screamed a rebel yell and laughed wildly while holding his ears and smothering his face and neck with kisses.  She used her hips to hold him in place, not letting him plunge in deeper or slide out either. “Jesus Norman, I can’t take all of it, yet. God I want it bad, Norman,” she breathed between kisses. “I want you to come deep inside me, unload everything, shoot in me like it’s the end of the world. Will you come in me, Norman, will you please?”  Then she gave him a long soulful kiss, her tongue twirling and dancing like a circus act; she infused his mouth with all her sensual splendor and her tongue was telling him that fucking Miss November was going to be fun, fun, fun. But the kiss was loving too, eager and vulnerable. She thrust her hips a bit and he came; he couldn’t help it and he came in a gush of passion as she groaned into his mouth.

“That’s right baby, let it loose; it feels so good,” she purred, still licking and kissing his face. Pulling his hair she guided his mouth down to her breasts. “Now we’re gettin’ going, Norman. That was just a taste for me right? You want to do me all night, don’t you Norman.”

She laid back on the table, drawing him over her. Her ankles crossed and she pulled his cock in deeper. “Oh, Norman,” she sobbed and the cock went deeper. Her eyes rolled in her head and a blissful smile radiated on her face. She lifted her chest so he could suck more of her breast into his mouth. The cock went deeper. “Oh, Norman, Norman,” she sighed worshipfully. The cock went deeper. “Norman!” Disbelief in her voice. The cock went deeper. “Norman!!!” Panicky now. Deeper “Norman, god, Norman!” And deeper, “Jesus Christ Norman you’re killing me!” Still deeper. And she screamed his name over and over as the cock rammed in inch by agonizingly sexy inch. “NORMAN!”

Now they were fucking a fuck fit for the roadhouse. Her gorgeous body undulated and screamed, pulling his hair and plunging her tongue into his mouth and with her hands urging him to pinch and squeeze her breasts.

He fucked her breathless and she came in a series of desperate gasps as if she were hunting for the last bits of oxygen in the room. She came again in volleys of tremors and more gasps and screams; and when he came in her it was a cannon’s roar blasting whatever air was left in her completely out and she screamed a glory halleluiah to the angels and devils of fucking.

“Norman, you naughty boy; you’ve taken such advantage of me. What can I do now except surrender.” She stroked his cheek and hair lovingly after recovering her breath and letting the earthquakes of her orgasm fade.

Norman grunted helplessly; he was a prisoner of sex. His cock limp and exhausted and laying on her thigh was already reviving to the seductive music of her voice.

“I guess I’m your prisoner, Norman,” she said teasingly. “If you want to carry me into the dressing room and fuck me on the bed in there, well Norman, how could I resist your manly power.

She giggled as he lifted her into his arms and staggered to the door. With the overalls still around his ankles he lurched like Frankenstein’s monster in one of those old movies. Patti cackled and stroked his chest, thoroughly enjoying the ride. Her luscious body, naked and slick with sex sweat, wriggled in his arms.

“Norman, are you going to fuck me more? Oh goodness you’re such a brute and I’ve been so bad. You need to punish me Norman. Will you spank me, Norman? Will you be  merciless?” Her voice was with lilting with delight.  He crossed into the dressing room and kicked the door closed behind him.

For a moment the set was silent save for the slight pulsating buzz of the neon lights. Suddenly Patti’s voice came from behind the door. “Norman! Oh god no, Norman, please. No. You beast. How could you?! Norman, oh Norman, NORMAN, NO, NO, NORMAN!!! YES, GOD YES, don’t stop, yes, yes, yes!”

Patti never imagined herself in Hollywood, but she sure enjoyed herself while she was here.?


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