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The Telethon
The Telethon by Deviousdave
Dave sat at the table next to his friend Steve. The phones were not ringing though the Labor Day Telethon had been going on officially for 2 hours now. He and Steve had been assigned to answer phones for the pledge drive as part of their probation for their Minor In Possession of alcohol offenses at the local university. Dave knew some of the people sitting at the long table he was at as fellow students. In front of him was a second long table with volunteers from various community groups that he did not know. Each person had a phone in front of them and some papers and pens. Dave looked out and saw the two cameras of the public television cameras in the studio as one panned him. He tried to look busy by writing something. The two current on air hosts stood talking in front of the two rows of long tables. They were in tuxedos and were commenting to one another and the audience at what a great cause this pledge drive was for children with Muscular Dystrophy. Dave could never figure out why they always dressed so formally and elegantly. He wrote the question down on a slip of paper and slid it over the table to Steve who merely looked at Dave and shrugged. Then he nodded over to the side of the set off camera. Dave looked over at perked up instantly. It was Bonnie Rasmussin, the evening news anchor. She was 34, but was still quite beautiful with sandy brown hair done up in bun over her head with a few loose stands hanging on the sides of her face. She wore a strapless blue gown with a slit up the side that flowed down to her toeless high heels and long blue gloves that rose to her biceps. The ensemble was accentuated by a faux diamond necklace that dangled down toward her cleavage. She looked more like a Miss America contestant than the host of telethon for children on PBS. But then this was part of her vanity. She had been a top anchorwoman in New York until a younger woman had taken up her affair with the news director which resulted in Bonnie taking a job in this Midwest market. She felt that she was above these small town types and hoped her glamorous display might peak the interest of a news director watching in a larger market. The one man in the tuxedo introduced her as it was her time to be on camera and she came walking out from off stage. The camera operator was sly enough to pan out so as to get a glimpse of her tanned bare calf and then thigh as she walked out opening the slit in her gown. She took the microphone from the departing host and stood there now with her co-anchor of the evening news. One and then another phone suddenly rang in the background. Bonnie smiled to herself. She knew she was the station’s golden child. “Thanks Jack. As you all know it is very important that raise as much money as possible for these kids….” Bonnie smiled as she read from the cue card next to camera one. Dave had to bump Steve’s foot under the cloth that d****d down over the table to get his attention as Steve’s phone had been ringing for several seconds. Steve had been staring at Bonnie’s bare back. The back of her dress dipped to the middle of her back revealing her tanned neck and shoulder blades. Steve had developed a thing for Bonnie since she had come to campus to do an on location story about underage drinking at the university. She had interviewed Steve to which he could only give nonsensical replies to the basic questions being asked as he looked into her brown eyes. Dave’s heart began to beat a little quicker too as Bonnie had finished her opening comments and had moved her way to interview some of the good folks tending the phone lines. He was a prankster to say the least and some devilry was shaping itself in his mind. As Bonnie made her way between the two rows of tables she stopped occasionally facing the camera. She stopped next to a retiree and bent down slightly showing off some cleavage as she held her microphone to the old gentleman’s face, “And what is your name sir?” The cameraman zoomed in a little over zealously onto Bonnie’s chest area. Realizing his mistake, he zoomed back out slightly. Those that were watching on television and paying attention to more than Bonnie’s chest would have noted the disappearance of the young man who had been sitting at the phone at the table behind Bonnie. “My name is Richard and I’m 79,” stammered the old man as he looked past the microphone at Bonnie. “That’s fine,” she patronized with a smile back at the camera. “And what group are you with?” She was so professional to be able to put up such a veil of interest to these peons. “I’m with the VFW hall …” the man continued, but Bonnie while keeping up her facade of smiles suddenly felt something terribly wrong. She felt a slender cold object working its way up her thigh. Then it was over her hip. And then under the strap of her thong panties. She felt a slight tug and then her panties coming back down her bare legs. “… and that why I’m here,” the old man was continuing. Bonnie stood straight up pulling the microphone from him abruptly. “Well then that’s fine she said!” as she looked around. There was no one behind her and she could not see under the table where Dave hid with the wire clothes hanger he had gotten off the garment rack backstage and straightened with the hook at the end because of the tablecloth. This was also not visible to anyone else, but Steve knew Dave was up to something as he continued to answer his phone which had begun to ring more frequently. He knew Dave was up to something good. Bonnie could feel her panties lying on top of her bare toes, but there was nothing she could do about it. She continued to smile and talk to the camera as she stepped out of them so as not to trip and make a fool of herself. She was about to begin interviewing Steve when the old man grabbed her arm with the microphone and started talking again. “These poor children need your help out there. They need your money and your support …” Apparently the old timer thought he was on a roll so Bonnie turned her attention back down to him like a good newswoman should. Then there was a touch of something poking her bare back above the zipper of her gown, and then she could hear, as did everyone else in the studio over the rambling of the old man and the telephones ringing, the distinctive sound of a zipper being undone. She had been bent over to politely hold the microphone down to the old man which made the chest of her gown feel tight. Then suddenly it felt loose. Too loose. As if it were falling down! In one swift movement she clutched her elbows to her sides putting pressure on the sides of her gown to keep it up. Of course this caused the microphone to hit the old man in the face with an audible “thump”! She smoothly stepped from behind the tables now careful to remain facing the cameras so as not to show the unzipped state of her gown to the television audience. “Well I think we’ve heard enough from our volunteers,” she said wondering to herself what kind of perverts were volunteering for this charity event. She was worried now and a little shine of sweat was forming on her forehead through the makeup as she knew the state of undress she was in, but her professionalism would carry her through she thought. She had only to interview a local boy now in the final segment before break who had MD and that was now coming out on stage in his electric wheelchair. Dave had sat back up to answer his phone with a mischievous grin plastered across his face. As he took down to donor's information he twirled a blue thong on the tip of his pen in plain view in the background of the shot. Steve smiled in admiration of his friend. As Bonnie came down to her spot on the studio floor, her preoccupation over her dress and looking professional all at the same time put her in the wrong spot. The small cross of tape put on the floor for her position was actually intended for the boy in the wheel chair who knew no better. He rolled right up to the spot just as Bonnie realized her mistake. Too late! The hem of her dress was now under the tire of the boy’s wheelchair. She stood there with a noticeably nervous look on her face, her heart pounding in her chest, and her arms pressed firmly to her sides. The cameraman noticed this and could not help panning out a little so the audience could see the full view of Bonnie from her beautiful hair down to the hem of her dress which now lay trapped beneath the wheel. The beautiful anchorwoman was not to be easily swayed. She nonchalantly brought her one arm across her chest pinning her dress up to her body as she lowered the microphone to the small boy’s face. “And what is your name?” she asked confidently. “Timmy,” the boy replied meekly. Apparently neither age nor handicap dissuades young men from devilry. He inched his wheelchair ahead toward Bonnie slightly pinning more of her gown under its tire. Her long tanned leg came plainly into view now from the slit in the other side of her gown. Bonnie was sure the disabled boy had not done so on purpose but she certainly was not going to let it happen again. She had smartly observed how the controls of the wheelchair were worked by the boy’s hand. “Here Timmy, why don’t you take the microphone while I adjust something,” Bonnie said as she handed the microphone to Timmy’s frail hand. Unknown to Bonnie, of course, was that as she was only holding the front of her dress up with one arm, the side of the back of her dress d****d over the handle of Timmy’s wheelchair. She reached down and grabbed the control stick and pushed it backward, but the controls were more sensitive then she had thought. Instantly Timmy went rolling backward towards the phone tables along with Bonnie’s blue evening gown. Bonnie stood straight up as the cold air of the studio rushed over her entire tanned naked body. Both cameras now had her standing there first with her gloved hands covering her breasts and then to her pussy. Finally she closed her knees close together and put one hand to cover her pussy and used her other arm to cover her breasts. She looked from side to side in a panic causing the necklace to jar from side to side along with her breasts. The embarrassed shrieks of “Ohmygod! Ohmygod!” were all that could be heard from the microphones now amidst the ringing of the phones. |
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#2
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Very nice
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