A producer fantasizes about her actress wife having an award-worthy hookup.
Producing and airing a lesbian soap opera would be an Amazonian feat, but it was my fondest dream. I knew I might not be successful in making it real, but that never stopped me from working toward it. While I have yet to achieve my goal, I have often fantasized about it, and when I did my daydreams went something like this…
As hard as it was for me and my crew to get the project off the ground, our undertaking was praised by many as “bold” and “ground breaking.” But as the producer and director of the show, I’ll tell you what else it was: some crazy sexy fun.
I was regularly asked how I dealt with having my wife on the show. Jeanie was the star, and her character was a hot, unattached, swaggering socialite/neurologist — I told you this was a soap opera! — who hopped in and out of bed with a variety of female co-stars. The love scenes were as steamy as TV would allow.
A male reporter once asked me, “Ms. Chase, as a woman, do those bedroom scenes make you uncomfortable?”
I gave him a long stare, then queried: “You think the situation would be different if I had a dick?” I let him squirm, before adding, “As a person, they do not.” Which was the truth.
The rest of the truth, which I left unspoken, was that I fucking loved watching Jeanie getting it on with other women. The hotter her partners and the more intense the sex scenes, the better. I was the one who’d pushed for her character to be a flagrant pussyhound.
A little background on me and Jeanie — and this part is no fantasy. It’s all true.
I met her in college, where she was studying acting and I was working on my film/TV major. Jeanie was — and certainly still is — a stunningly gorgeous woman. She had a taut physique, silky hair and features that would have suited a Greek goddess.
But there was also nothing phony about her. Her face, for all its beauty, had real character. She looked like an actual person, not some manufactured Hollywood idea of a hot woman. She was very genuine with her feelings, as well. When she said something, she meant it. When she felt something, she really felt it — and let everyone know exactly how much.
When she turned her sexual attention on me, I sensed the crackling energy of her and was drawn irresistibly to it. I think it took about one come-hither look from her and I was ready to jump into the sack.
But Jeanie had a stipulation. “Look, Margot, I like you and I want to fuck your brains out.” My pussy purred at that. She continued to add, “But I like sex with lots of women. You think you can handle that?”
By then I was already halfway in love with her. I could even imagine a life together with her beyond school. I decided then and there it was time to put up. “Why don’t you have sex with another woman while I watch? Before you and I even make love. I’ll prove I can handle it!”
I didn’t add that the idea also excited the hell out of me. Grinning, Jeanie agreed.
It turned out, though, there wasn’t anyone on hand who was adventurous enough to fool around with her while I stood by the bed and watched. So we decided on a covert operation. I hid in a closet. Jeanie brought a girl to her room. She was smoking hot, her cinnamon skin flawless and her tits almost as generous as Jeanie’s.
Crouching in my hidey-hole, I stared eagerly out through the cracked door as the two stripped. It was my first time seeing Jeanie naked, and all the promise of her body was there — the lush curves, the toned muscles. Her pink nipples stood out as stiffly as the other woman’s dusky ones.
Jeanie pulled her onto the bed, and they kissed, their tongues tangling. I heard the sweet slurping sounds. I reached into my jeans and started rubbing myself through my dampened panties. Rising pleasure raised gooseflesh on my body.
I continued to watch avidly as the two women traded off sucking each other’s breasts. With my other hand, I felt up my own tits. It was incredibly exciting to be the secret observer (secret to Jeanie’s partner, anyway). The whole thing felt wonderfully forbidden. I had always dreamed of doing something like this, but the opportunity had never come up. Now it was happening with Jeanie, a woman I really cared about! The combination was intoxicating.
They moved on to fingering one another. The other girl trailed her fingertips up and down Jeanie’s streaming, hairless groove. Jeanie jammed two fingers into her fuck-friend. She worked that pussy hard, twisting her hand to ream it out nicely.
I quietly unsnapped my jeans and shucked them halfway down my thighs, so I could stick a couple of digits into my own flowing cleft. My mounting excitement matched what I saw on the other woman’s face, which contorted with pleasure. Jeanie finger-fucked her mercilessly. Finally, the girl cried out with climactic bliss.
As Jeanie slid her fingers from the woman’s pussy and began to lick them clean, my own orgasm broke over me. I clenched my teeth to stay silent, feeling the deep ecstasy consume me.
On Jeanie’s bed, the two lovely females moved into a 69. The burgeoning filmmaker in me wanted to line up a better angle, wanted to set the lighting to more seductive hues. But the rest of me savored the voyeuristic thrill of the situation. Jeanie was on top. Her partner licked her pussy from below, her tongue parting Jeanie’s glistening lips to stab up into the luscious pink interior.
Jeanie writhed on top of the other woman, feasting on her pussy at the same time. She jammed her tongue in. The other woman reached up to shyly finger Jeanie’s asshole. Jeanie responded by sinking a finger into the woman’s butt, right up to the first knuckle. She slid it in and out as she continued to tongue-fuck her friend’s pussy.
When they came, it was a mutual sexual eruption. They hung on to each other and quaked through their climaxes. I participated in the moment, too, drenching my fingers and swaying on my feet from the intensity of the physical joy.
While Jeanie sent her lover on her way, I set the state of my outfit straight. Then Jeanie opened the closet door — no symbolism there, I’d been out of the closet for years — and took me to the rumpled bed. She eyed me closely, to see how I had handled the spectacle.
I seized her face in my hands and desperately licked the other woman’s pussy juice off it. Then we kissed furiously, with a blazing passion. Jeanie hastily undressed me, and naked, we tumbled together onto her bed. I fingered and sucked and licked her for hours. She did the same to me. She broke out her toys, and we treated each other to a marathon of dildo-fucking. I even put on her favorite strap-on and fucked her ass until she shouted with ecstasy.
That first experience bound us together in a profound way. We repeated that scenario as often as we could and generally relished one another’s company. It was no great surprise to anyone that we got married shortly after we’d graduated from the university.
We hit L.A. together, determined to break into the film industry. Already Jeanie had garnered a serious reputation as an actress with stage work she’d done. I landed a gig helping to shoot a series of commercials. I managed to get Jeanie cast in one. After that, there was no looking back.
Back to my soap opera fantasy…
Naturally, it took years to get our dream project on the air. We had to fight hard, but there was a groundswell of interest from the public. Hollywood suits finally caved and let us make the damn thing.
At first, it was a cult success, attracting the kind of rabid fandom usually reserved for science-fiction shows. But soon it became a bona fide hit. People, it turned out, were more than ready for a serial melodrama about the lives and loves of modern women who happened to sleep with other women.
Jeanie was brilliant in the lead role. I say that as a wife and a producer. Though we dealt in sensational story lines with all sorts of loony plot twists, Jeanie kept the series grounded with her awesome acting ability. Her character might seem ridiculous on the surface, but Jeanie played her with depth and nuance.
Also, it helped that viewers tuned in every week to see what woman she was going to pounce on next. I looked forward to that, too. But it was even better for me, since I got to see the real action behind the scenes whenever life imitated art.
Lots of actresses had played opposite Jeanie by now, including some major, award-winning players. Our series, apparently, was the one show in which big-name women in Hollywood ached to appear. It made a certain sense. We had great writers, nearly all female, and they wrote meaty parts that let serious actresses show off their dramatic chops.
But every so often we would hit a bump. During one of those weeks, Jeanie’s on-screen love interest was a terrific actress named Brianna. Over the first couple days she’d killed with her scenes. Then came the time for her bedroom moment with Jeanie.
Brianna kept clanking it, freezing up in the middle of a take or doing such a bad job nobody would want to watch her performance. I called it a day. We could try again in the morning.
I told Brianna that everyone has bad days and she shouldn’t worry about it. The set cleared, but Jeanie and Brianna stayed behind. I slipped off to the control room to give them some space. One of the great things about Jeanie as a professional was that she cared not only about herself, but about whoever else was involved in the show, right down to the last gofer.
She was also damn good at coaching a troubled performer through a rough patch. In the control room, I flipped on the monitors. A few lights were still on over the set. Jeanie was talking to Brianna. I settled into a chair and turned on the audio. None of the cameras were recording, but I could see and hear everything.
In a soothing tone, Jeanie said, “Your character basically falls in love with mine, despite us being professional rivals. You’ve done everything else fantastically. I know you can make this last scene work brilliantly.”
I had multiple monitors. I focused in on the two women and saw that Brianna was almost in tears.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” she sputtered. “I know I should be able to do this. But — ” She bit her lip, then blurted out, “I’ve never had sex with another woman!”
I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from braying laughter, even though they never would have heard me down on the set. Plenty of straight actresses had been on our show, and they’d all played convincing lesbians — mostly because they were just playing people.
Jeanie didn’t laugh. She was nothing but sympathetic. She suggested they talk through the scene, just the two of them, all alone on the set. Jeanie no doubt knew I was in the booth, but Brianna needed the illusion of privacy.
They spoke their lines. The dialogue, as usual, was rather hot. Jeanie got Brianna to make a few “aaahs” and “ooohs” in lieu of any physical contact for the culmination of the scene. Brianna giggled, which was better than crying.
Then Jeanie suggested they walk it through — from the bedroom doors, to the chairs where they would drink champagne, then across to the lavish bed. They didn’t need to touch or kiss, Jeanie said.
They played the scene, both of them still in their costumes of skin-tight dresses and heels. Brianna was excellent, getting more into her lines as she went. Jeanie responded with acting fire of her own.
In my remote chair I was responding, too. Brianna was a gorgeous woman, with captivating eyes and a smoldering figure. I slipped my hand between my legs and gently grazed my pussy through my leggings. When the two women moved toward the bed, I figured they would stop in another second or two.
But at the bedside Brianna flung herself into Jeanie’s arms and put her mouth firmly against my wife’s. Jeanie, staying in character, didn’t act surprised, but I whooped — in joy and anticipation.
Their kiss deepened, just enough for daytime TV. Then Brianna pivoted and drew Jeanie onto the big bed, as the script had specified. The two women continued to kiss and started to roll around together.
That was where the scene was supposed to cut. If Brianna could do it that well when the cameras were rolling, we would have a hot, successful scene indeed. But the two lovely ladies didn’t break their lip-lock. Maybe Brianna was so invested in her character she was just carrying on the way she would have if the situation were real. Jeanie didn’t let up either, but I wasn’t sure whether that was due to her acting skills or her ever increasing passion.
The women’s activities swiftly became too racy for TV. Their tongues flashed, and Brianna let out a hungry moan. She tentatively put her hand on Jeanie’s right tit. She squeezed it with more confidence after Jeanie gave her grunting encouragement.
Desire boiled up in me, leaving my lower lip quivering. With shaky hands, I flung off my shirt and shimmied out of my pants. I sat naked, gazing hungrily into the array of views available to me.
Brianna’s hands were now boldly roving my wife’s luscious body, groping her ass through the tight dress. Jeanie tugged down the top of Brianna’s garment, baring her firm tits. Jeanie waited to see how her co-star would react. Brianna grabbed hold of Jeanie’s head and pulled her mouth down to her breast.
I zoomed in with various views, close enough that I could spy Brianna’s engorged nipples as Jeanie’s tongue and teeth worked them. The producer in me winced a little at how wrinkled their dresses were becoming, but as a voyeuristic woman, I savored every instant of the smoking action.
Still, I was relieved when they got themselves out of their costumes. Now I was gazing at a panoply of nude female flesh. Both women were beautiful. What I was seeing was utterly real, which was a thousand times more fun than watching my succulent wife’s character bed-hop every week in pretend-land.
Jeanie’s passions were at full throttle, and Brianna had left her inhibitions far in the rear-view mirror. She was tearing down the Lezzie Highway, all of it caught on Pussy TV. My mind whirled with the meta glory of it.
Brianna took her turn suckling on Jeanie’s tits. The act seemed to come naturally. Jeanie groaned appreciatively at her busy mouth, jamming her breast hard against her lover’s lips. Brianna nibbled on the stiff nipples, making my wife moan loudly.
I cupped my own tits, squeezing them and tweaking my nips in time to Brianna’s efforts, relishing the expression of lust on Jeanie’s face. I loved her so much. It thrilled me to see her so utterly lost in passion.
When Jeanie started kissing her way down Brianna’s taut body, I eagerly spread my legs. Dampness was already flowing from my pussy. As Jeanie licked Brianna’s inner thighs, encouraging her to open them wider, I traced my fingertips over my own slick lips.
A look of wild elation overcame Brianna’s features as Jeanie’s mouth hovered over her exposed pussy. When Jeanie’s tongue unfurled and took a long swipe up Brianna’s slit, a cry pierced the empty studio. Brianna’s face told the whole story. She had crossed over a line. This experience would change her, and I was sure she would agree it was for the better. It would certainly shake loose her hang-ups about any future romantic lesbian scenes she might encounter in her career.
Jeanie licked her up and down awhile, as my fingertips teased my own damp cleft. Finally, Jeanie plunged her tongue inside her lover. Brianna bucked, her ass lifting off the broad bed. I stuck two fingers inside myself, my body jerking on my chair.
“Jeanie licked her awhile, as my fingertips teased my own damp cleft.”
I watched Jeanie tonguing her deep. I knew my wife’s oral talents well, and I was glad to see Brianna appreciating them. She squeezed her own tits as Jeanie continued to eat her. She thrust her pussy hard against my wife’s mouth, smearing juice all over her lips and chin. Finally, with a frantic shudder, Brianna climaxed. I knew because she screamed, “I’m fucking coming!”
When Jeanie eventually came up for air, she looked directly into one of the seemingly dormant cameras and gave a sassy wink. She knew I was watching! She knew I’d witnessed their scene, and that was part of the thrill for her. As much as I loved to watch, she loved being watched. Our marriage was so great it was sometimes unbelievable.
Jeanie moved to wipe her mouth, but Brianna lunged toward her and started licking her face clean. Afterward, she grinned at my wife. Wordlessly, Jeanie lay back and opened her thighs, offering but not insisting. Brianna scrambled hungrily between her legs. She hesitated only a few seconds, but it seemed like performance anxiety rather than reluctance.
As patient and helpful as ever, Jeanie talked her through the initial questings of her tongue. But soon instinct took over, and Jeanie relaxed and enjoyed herself. Brianna lapped eagerly at her pussy. As her tongue slipped inside my beloved, I finger-fucked myself harder, burying two digits up to the knuckles. I tweaked my swollen clit, teasing groaning pleasure from myself.
After a time, Jeanie’s hips started to buck. She lifted her ass up and ground her pussy onto Brianna’s face. I heard the squelchings and moanings, and Jeanie’s cry rumbling from deep in her throat. When it broke through at orgasmic strength, I was right there with her, fingering myself as I got off and drenched the chair beneath me with my juice.
Brianna dutifully and enthusiastically drank what Jeanie gave her. I slumped back languidly before my monitors, idly licking my own sauce off my fingers.
“She thrust her pussy against my wife’s mouth, smearing juice all over.”
Jeanie moved the two of them into a scissor setup. Brianna had a little trouble at first, but soon their legs were entwined, and their slick pussies were pressed against one another. Jeanie showed her lover how to brace her arms behind herself, to get some force behind her hip thrusts.
Then they jammed and bounced together, smearing their streaming slits together. I knew the special intimacy of this act. It was like a carnal feedback loop, where the bliss built and built until neither lover could stand it any longer. I watched the sexual joy gather in those two exquisite women. They growled and grunted. Their faces twisted with pleasure. They fucked pussy-to-pussy and came with mutual howls of rapture.
I thought that might be it. Brianna looked dazed. It had been a big night for her. But Jeanie snuggled up with her and softly kissed her, and then started murmuring things into her ear that even the sophisticated audio gear couldn’t pick up.
After a moment Brianna nodded in agreement. She turned over onto her flat belly, and Jeanie spread her pert ass cheeks. My wife lowered her head and began to lick Brianna’s crinkly asshole. Brianna responded with immediate squirming pleasure.
“They fucked pussy-to-pussy and came with mutual howls of rapture.”
Jeanie rimmed her with increasing vigor. She slid her tongue inside the lovely dark hole. I knew how deep she could get. As I watched in my own sexual delirium, I reached down to finger my own asshole, slipping my wet fingertip in and out. New pleasure awoke inside me.
Those feelings rose higher and hotter as Brianna writhed on the bed. She rose onto her knees, pushing her shapely ass back toward Jeanie. My wife held Brianna’s cheeks apart and continue to spear her rear hole.
Brianna came with a shriek. She never knew she shared that orgasm with me, as I fingered my asshole and shook with another delirious climax. This time, I fell back limply in the chair, totally spent.
But Brianna, the minx, still had some life in her. She reciprocated Jeanie’s actions, kneeling behind the show’s star and licking and tonguing her savory asshole. The pleasure was stark on Jeanie’s face as Brianna’s tongue flashed between the lush halves of her ass.
Once again, Jeanie looked directly into a camera. She mouthed, “I love you,” and I said it back out loud to her image on the screen. Then I watched Brianna feast on her ass until Jeanie came.
Of course, Brianna was outstanding the next day when we shot the bedroom scene. The two women were electric together, like they really were lovers.
Yes, I have always dreamt big. One day, my TV fantasies will come true, but in the meantime, I have enjoyed the real-life scenes Jeanie and I have created on our very own stage at home, with our ever-changing cast of beauties.