Double Duty Pt. 02

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My delightful stunt performer is back for the sequel.
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 04/15/2015
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I had several requests to continue this story, so here you are. Bailey and Eddie are back together.

Thanks for taking the time to read my ramblings. I appreciate the opportunity to tell the story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was sitting in the theatre, watching the credits roll upwards on the big screen. Most of the people who had been watching the movie with me had already left, but I stayed in my seat.

I was here alone today. That really wasn't usual for me, as I often attended movies alone, even if I had a girlfriend, which wasn't the case right now. I hadn't been able to keep a woman in my life for the last two years, at least, not for longer than a few weeks at a time. That coincided with my increased interest in the movie business.

Ah, there it is...the reason for my distraction in terms of female companionship. The name, moving slowly up the screen, lost amongst the hundreds of other names to most, but glaringly obvious to me...and half the reason I wanted to see this movie in the first place.

I said 'half the reason', and it was relatively true. I always had a thing for Scarlett Johansson, which I'm sure puts me in a club with the majority of men on the planet. That 'thing' began long before I met her...I still have the pictures of that day at lunch on my phone to prove it...and before I slept with her stunt double. Given the resemblance between the two, I suppose the name on the screen now might be given more than half the credit for my attendance today.

Bailey Lewis. Now that was a great memory. A couple of weeks of incredible sex, in various interesting places. Lunch with Scarlett. It was, to say the least, fun.

Fun I wouldn't mind getting a little more of. It had been two years, but if you don't ask, you'll never get an answer. I tapped my phone, waking it up, and scrolled through my contact list, stopping in the 'K's. There was the person who might be able to answer my question.

I suppose it was hardly fair to ask any woman to match up with my memories. That's the real reason I hadn't been able to keep a girlfriend in my life since Bailey. It's almost as though I had really been with Scarlett, as the line between them was a little blurry, especially when I kept seeing her over and over on the big screen in various movies. By 'her', I mean Scarlett...or Bailey. I was having a problem with who was who. In my mind, it was almost as though Scarlett was Bailey's stand-in. I knew who really did the hard stuff, and who was the on-screen eye candy.

My phone crackled to life, and I heard it ring three times.

"You got Keith," I heard. During the time Bailey was in town, I had been folded into her circle of friends, which included a few of her fellow stunt performers...and the hulk, Keith, who had maintained contact even after the rest of the travelling circus had left town. You can never have too many friends, especially those who are as big as your basic silverback gorilla. If nothing, he'd be handy should I ever need to move a piano.

"Yo! Dude...how's tricks?" I laughed. "Lift any cars lately?" It was more than witty banter, as Keith's physique was more than just show. He participated in 'strongest man' competitions, and was getting a reputation for it. I had a feeling his set security days were numbered.

"Eddie!" he rumbled back. "What's up, you scrawny, lucky little turd?" It was said with affection, or at least the 'bro' version. He had called me variations of the 'lucky turd' moniker ever since we met...and I had benefited from Bailey's attention. To him, she was like a little sister, so it wouldn't pay to make her unhappy, and have to deal with an angry Keith.

"I'm at the movies, and just saw Bailey's name scroll past," I said seriously. "Have you heard anything from her lately?" It got quiet on the other end.

"I'm not sure I can answer that, pal," he said, like distant thunder. "I kind of promised I wouldn't." I suppose he realized that his comment might sound like she didn't want to see me, and clarified. "She's not ducking you, bud." Another silent pause followed, then he continued. "I guess I could tell you they're starting work on a sequel in a couple of weeks. Someone we both know will be back in town then, for a month or so, but you didn't hear it from me. That someone wanted her presence to be a surprise, and she'll have my balls if you wreck it."

I still found it amusing that a 5'4", 130 pound woman could intimidate a monster over a foot taller and 200 pounds heavier. I mean, she was intimidating... she intimidated me, a little... but for different reasons. Personal ones.

"My lips are sealed," I smiled, "but thanks for not telling me. I owe you one."

"Bring me a coffee sometime and we'll call it even," he laughed. "Talk to you later." The line clicked off.

Two weeks. I could wait two weeks. For her? No problem.

I just hoped I could sleep until then.

***

Two weeks is a long time to be excited. After a week or so, I felt like a kid before Christmas, knowing she was coming back to visit.

I ran through the memories of two weeks, nearly two years ago. That visit had been cut short...Bailey had been called away on another production, one that only needed her stunt performance, and not her closeup double work for Scarlett. I hoped this time would make up for it, and she would be here longer than scheduled.

Bailey had spent several nights in my bed last time around, and not just on the occasion of her doing a stunt and needing a release afterward. I had the distinct impression that we were becoming more than just physical, but never had the opportunity to explore that thought before she left. Maybe this time...

"Who the hell is that?" I cursed, as a loud knock on the door interrupted both my thoughts, and the TV show I wasn't really watching. I stood, and went to the door, looking out the peep hole.

Nothing. Just empty hallway. I opened the door quickly and stepped out, looking down the hall toward the elevator, expecting to see...I don't know...maybe someone delivering flyers or something. No one was there. I muttered under my breath and turned back, retracing the three steps I had taken in that direction. I was still grumbling as I closed the door behind me.

"Hi!" the cute blonde chirped from her seat on my couch.

The voice surprised me, and I jumped, eyes wide, until I recognized who it was.

"Bailey!" I gasped, looking around comically, wondering how the hell she got in. Apparently, she had added 'ninja' to her skills list, slipping silently past me while I was looking the wrong way down the hallway.

She laughed, and walked over to where I was trying to get my heart started again. "How? What? When?" I blurted.

"First...I'm sneaky. Second...you know what, and third...about an hour ago," she smiled, stepping into my arms. "Surprised to see me?"

Surprised? Yeah, you could say that, and I knew you were coming...just not so soon, and certainly not so quietly. My mouth wasn't making noises, hanging open, so she took charge.

"I'm sorry," she giggled. "I should have called. Oh my! I'm not interrupting someone, am I?" she asked, suddenly realizing that I might have been with someone. Like that could happen.

"No!" I gulped, snapping back to consciousness. "No. I'm...I'm alone. I just...wow, you surprised me." I pulled myself together, and pulled her closer. She felt...perfect, almost as though she never left. The firmness of her body erased the time between our last embrace and this one in an instant.

"I've missed you," she whispered, holding me tight. Her lips searched for mine, finding them right where she left them, and every bit as receptive as ever.

The kiss was...hmmm...how do you describe heaven? Her lips parted almost immediately, and my tongue soon had company in my mouth, tangling with hers like two amorous boas in a steamy jungle. My hands wandered across her back, from her neck down to her much more interesting and incredibly tight backside. I came up for air, trying to remind myself that I wasn't supposed to be expecting her at all. Better not get Keith in trouble.

"So...what are you doing here?!" I gasped, finding it easy to convey the surprise I was still feeling. "Got any new boo boos for me to kiss better?"

"No," she giggled, smiling brightly, "No new boo boos...although I want you to feel free to kiss whatever you like. You know...preventive medicine...that sort of thing." She hugged me tight again. "I'm here for a shoot, but it doesn't actually start until late next week. I thought I'd make up for being torn from your arms early last time. You're sure I'm not getting in your way?"

Let's not open that can just yet, I thought. It's a conversation I really, really want to have before you vanish on me again, but I have a feeling that now might not be the time for a deep evaluation of emotional attachment. It'll take a while, and probably delay getting to the much more enjoyable stuff I want to do right now. I'll just remember you said that you had missed me.

"You could never be in the way," I replied, crushing her in an overly emotional hug.

"Ooof! Easy, there, honey," she groaned, pecking my cheek. "I'm not wearing any of my protective gear." I relaxed my grip, and she made eye contact. A very Scarlett-like crooked grin crossed her face. "Or underwear, for that matter."

Bailey always was full of surprises. From that first time, in her trailer shower, she had always been ahead of me. A modern woman, in a man's game, I suppose it went with the territory. I didn't mind, in the least.

She had pirouetted out of my grasp, and was now wiggling her ass at me as she slowly crept down the hall toward the bedroom. A pause at the door.

"Come hither, my darling," she smiled, and disappeared around the corner.

Two years? Seemed like yesterday.

***

Sweat and sex. That's what the room smelled like, and rightfully so. We were well and truly into it.

By the time I made it into the bedroom, she had been dropping her clothes... a warmup jacket and stretchy yoga pants, no underwear, as advertised... on the floor. I had quickly shed everything and joined her under the sheets, and we had immediately begun pawing each other into flaming passion. I had soon moved to eat that delicious pussy again, spending several minutes grazing between her thighs. I'm proud to say I brought her off twice, before she turned the tables, and swallowed my cock eagerly. A few minutes of sensual sucking led to the application of a condom, then she mounted me, fucking me with obvious need. She came again, with a muffled scream, and I rolled us over.

Now, sweat was dripping off my nose, as I drilled her receptive cleft firmly. She had a full glow going herself, beads of feminine exertion covering her body from top to bottom.

"Oh fuck, Eddie," she gasped, gazing deep into my eyes. "You're so good for me."

I kept spearing her damp depths furiously, but my mind had other thoughts. Inappropriately timed thoughts.

I wonder how many other guys have been 'good for you' in the last two years? I remember the reason you initially let me into your life ; to release the tension following your stunt gig. Back then I had just been happy to get laid, but two years of thinking had added layer upon layer of complexity to the situation. Now, I had to wonder. How many other 'tension relievers' had there been since?

Not now! I demanded of my brain. Just enjoy the moment...the sensation of her incredible body under yours, and her pussy gripping your cock. Cross that bridge later, after you finish fucking her brains out!

Another drop of sweat splashed across her upper lip, and she smiled, pulling me down for another scorching kiss. I pounded her into the mattress, listening to her squeaks and moans of bliss as she built toward another orgasm. Mine was equally near.

"Fuck me Eddie!" she squealed. "Fuck me! Make me cum, again...I'm begging you...then spray that hot juice of yours all over me! Do it!"

Words became animal noises of ecstasy, as she went over the top once more, driving me over with her. I yanked my cock out, and an elastic snap signalled my desperate removal of the pesky prophylactic. My balls pulled up tight, and I deluged her, squirting ropes of hot semen across her panting chest, neck and face. The goo slid across her sweaty skin, pooling in the low areas.

It was well worth the two year wait, but I hoped to increase the frequency a bit, from here on out.

"So I guess you missed me, too," she smiled, playfully tracing her fingertips across her cum-slicked chest. She dragged my semen from the areas where it had collected, and painted the spots I had missed, including her tall, stiff nipples. Again and again, she dripped my discharge from her delicate, painted nails, drizzling it like icing over her nips.

I didn't feel the need to answer her...not with words, anyway. I leaned closer and kissed her softly. Her lips quivered against mine, sensing the emotions I was trying to convey in the embrace.

"Mmmmm, that's a yes," she giggled. "No doubt about it."

***

Saturday morning dawned, and I rolled over, turning my back to the decidedly too bright side of the room. It had been an energetic evening, and I was still recovering from round 3.

Something was wrong. I should have bumped into...

I opened one eye. Her pillow was empty, and the sheets were rumpled in her absence.

"Bailey?" I called groggily, rolling out of bed. I staggered out to the living room.

"Hi honey," she smiled. She was sitting at the dining room table, tapping at her laptop. She looked up from the screen and grinned. "Nice outfit."

"I like yours too," I laughed. Yes, she was as naked as I was. "What's up?"

"Nothing really. Just couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd check some numbers," she answered.

"Lottery numbers?" I asked. "You mean I could be sleeping with a millionaire?"

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but no," she giggled. "I'm checking on one of the stunts I have to do. It's kind of intimidatIng."

That got my attention. This is the woman who casually bounced off the hood of a speeding car twelve hours after I met her. If she was intimidated, it had to be big.

I sat beside her and focused on the screen. It was all numbers, not at all what I was expecting.

"Um, this looks, uh, confusing," I gestured. "What is it?"

"It's a program that calculates the details of a stunt," she smiled. "Can't you see that?" A grin tickled her lips. There was nothing on the screen beside the columns of numbers. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Oh yeah...sure it is. I was going to say that," I laughed, playing along.

"Well, that's what it is," she giggled, typing in a box.

"You mean there's actually a program for that? I thought you lunatics just did it by feel," I smiled.

"Only on the Internet, honey, and we call those guys 'idiots'," she said, referring to the plethora of YouTube morons who are ensuring they will not procreate, by slamming their testicles into the nearest hard object.

"Seriously...there's a program for that?" I repeated.

"Baby, there's a program for everything. It's just a matter of paying the right egghead. As far as stunts go, it's all physics. Forces, acceleration, vectors, trajectories...all that exciting stuff." She pointed at the screen. "See? That's me," she smiled. "Don't you recognize me?" A theatrical gesture to her spectacularly nude body, before she continued.

The number she pointed to said '58.05', and it was at the top of the column. Below it, a vertical list of numbers began with '1.0', and grew steadily higher. The column colours changed from green, to yellow, to red. Another parallel column also had growing numbers, from 1 to 150. A few other text boxes had variables in them, which she was changing repeatedly.

"So you're 58.05?" I joked. "I had you pegged more as a 98.3 kind of girl."

Bailey snorted, and nearly peed herself laughing.

"Boy are you ever gonna regret that when you find out what it means!" she howled. And howled. Finally, she got herself under control.

"Okay! Shit, that's so funny!" she gasped, catching her breath. "I assume you're giving me a grade, out of 100?"

"Um...yes?" I said sheepishly. "I would have given you 100, but your left little toe is crooked." She looked at her foot.

"Uh huh. Okay. No. It's my weight, dummy!" She watched my face as I realized that she hadn't weighed 58.05 pounds for decades. So... "It's in kilograms. Wanna retract your statement?"

Damn metric system. Let's see...kilos to pounds...times 2.2...carry the one...except on a leap year, or during an eclipse. Oh shit! 217 pounds!

"Yes please," I begged. "Would you believe 55?"

"Awww...aren't you sweet." She kissed me softly. "So," she pointed, "me, height of drop, time, g-forces...these green numbers are safe. Yellow is dangerous, and red is..."

"DEAD!" I gasped. "I don't like dead. I rather like my girlfriends alive and kicking."

"Girlfriend? I like that," she smiled. "I agree. Dead is no good. So we use a bigger airbag." Her fingers changed a few values. The green now reached further down the column, as did the yellow. The red zone was now just the last few rows. "Much better. Still scary, but doable."

"I still don't like it," I said. No smile this time. I was serious. "How high?"

"I'd rather not say," she replied, and kissed me. "It will only make you worry, and I was trying to avoid that. That's why I came out here while you were asleep. You weren't supposed to wake up, and catch me."

I grabbed the laptop. Now that I knew what to look for, I could read the jumble of figures.

"It's in the green, though, right? Please tell me it's in the green!" I said desperately. The green went down to 90...meters! It's hard to believe that a fall from almost 300 feet could ever be considered 'safe'.

"I'd like to honey, but that would be a lie," she said looking me in the eye. She suddenly looked so small, and delicate, despite her confidence. "102," she relented.

102 meters... 334 feet was well into the yellow zone...and closer to the red than I cared to think about.

"ARE YOU FUCKING NUTS?!" I bellowed. It came out harsher than I intended.

Bailey sat there calmly, naked, legs crossed, arm across the back of her chair. Her eyes were placid...peaceful even. When she spoke, it was with a confidence borne of experience.

"Eddie, honey...I know you're worried, but please don't say stuff like that. I've done this before. This is higher, but I've done it before, so please trust me when I say I'm sure it will be fine. I don't take uncalculated risks. I have every intention of rolling out of that airbag, waving at the helicopter, and going to lunch with you."

"Helicopter?" I asked, still unconvinced. She rolled her eyes, and stood up.

"Oy! Look honey, it's almost three weeks away. Now, you can worry about it for three weeks, and waste our time together, or you can trust me, and get your ass in the bedroom. I could use a good pounding with that big dick!" She walked slowly away, turning into the bedroom. She stopped and looked back at me, extending her hand. "Come on, baby."

I glanced down. My penis was soft, shrivelled, and scared...hardly 'big dick' material.

"Okay," I nodded, starting toward her, "but I think I'll need some help. My little buddy is worried, too."

"Mmmmm. I think I can handle that," she smiled, as I took her hand. "After all, I'm a professional."

***

She did. Handle it, that is. Also suck it, which was a marvellous distraction from the ghastly images racing uncontrolled through my head. Eventually, she sucked those images right out of my skull, and replaced them with much more pleasurable ones.

There's one now. I was looking up at her marvellous tits, as they weebled and wobbled with her movements. She was rising and falling smoothly, skewering herself on my prong. Her eyes were locked on mine, peeking through the gaps in her blonde hair as it dangled across her face. Her plump lips, so moist and delicious, were parted as she panted through her exertion. This was much better than the thought of her twisted, broken body, after the unsuccessful high fall stunt.