Rising Temperatures and Dresses

The opening music cue faded to silence. John shuffled his papers slightly, a habit he’d developed over fifteen years on air, and broke the brief silence with his signature smile.

“Hello and good morning. I’m John Anderson alongside my co-host Olivia Moss.”

Olivia straightened in her chair and took her cue. “We’re glad to be a part of your morning. John, did you know that we have the city’s annual dog parade coming up? It just warms my heart seeing all these dogs together!”

She sold it well. If he didn’t know better, he would have believed her enthusiasm was genuine. After five years together, he’d learned to spot the subtle differences between her actual excitement and her professional persona like the slight tightness around her eyes when she was merely performing. She was good, though. Viewers never noticed.

“You said it, Olivia,” he continued, glancing down at his notes. “And while the city celebrates its furry friends…” As John continued, he noticed the shimmer in his peripheral vision pulse more intensely. For a split second, the teleprompter seemed to flicker, causing him to stutter. He blinked hard. When he looked again, everything appeared normal. “But before we get into that, let’s check in with Scarlette Waters and Allison Medina for the weather and traffic. Hopefully, the weather will be kind to man’s best friend.”

“Thanks, John,” Scarlette purred, stepping in front of the green screen. “We’re looking at a cool morning but the temperature will rise by late morning…”

As John listened to Scarlette’s weather report, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. Her voice washed over him like a seductive melody, but it was the subtle movements of her body that truly captivated him. She would brag about her discount gym membership but the results speak for themselves. Having one of the hottest bodies in the station, it was a shame that she wore long dresses that hid most of her body. If only she dressed more… provocatively.

That’s when something about Scarlette’s dress caught his attention. At first, it was small, a slight shift as she moved. But then, the hem started to climb. Up, up, up, teasingly slow, revealing a sliver of thigh, then more, and more, until he could practically see glimpses of her panties hidden beneath.

Scarlette’s voice droned on, oblivious, but her dress was screaming a different story. It was a goddamn striptease in broad daylight, and he was the only one watching. His cock throbbed harder, aching for release while he gripped his armrest. He wanted to grab her, pull her back to the news desk, and bury his face between her legs until she screamed his name.

The heat was building, a firestorm of lust threatening to consume him whole. He wanted to fuck her silly, right then and there. He wanted to see her eyes roll back in her head as he pounded into her, her moans echoing through the studio. He wanted to feel her hot, wet cunt clenching around his cock, milking him dry.

Shaking his head, John snapped back into reality as Allison gave the traffic report. Where had that thought come from? He never thought about another woman that way. Well, except when watching porn. Maybe this was a sign that he was watching too much and should cut back on it. How else could he explain why none of the crew was reacting or why the broadcast was still going?

He had to be imagining things.