Playboy Morning Show - Episode 6

Kevin pushed the remote. The little pink egg inside Andrea buzzed to life and her hips jerked forward like she’d been slapped. She bit the inside of her cheek, eyes glassy, already wet from the second setting. He leaned back in the leather chair, remote in one hand, coffee in the other, watching her like a man who liked his mornings quiet and filthy. They were testing the new line: “sexy filthy forecaster.” Some intern’s stupid joke that stuck. The product pitch promised an alarm clock that woke you up wet. Andrea wore nothing but the panties and a silk robe that kept slipping off one shoulder. Every time the vibration hit a new pattern her nipples tightened under the thin fabric, dark through the blush. She tried to read the first forecast line: partly cloudy, highs in the mid-seventies. The words fell apart when he thumbed the remote again. Her knees softened. She braced one hand on the desk, breathing through her teeth, cunt pulsing around nothing. Kevin didn’t smile. He liked watching her fight it. Three more girls showed up for the afternoon tryouts. Andrea kept the toy inside her the whole time, robe open now, thighs slick. Every time one of the new ones stumbled over her lines, Kevin gave Andrea another pulse. She came once, silent, knees locked, biting her own wrist. The interns pretended not to notice the wet spot on the carpet.