The Interview

"This is your chance, Yolanda. I've arranged the interview for you, now you just have to get Billy Zatcher to talk about his sudden retirement. If you pull this off, it's going to look very nice on your resume. There may even be a daily column in it for you."

"What makes you think that he's going to talk to me? I mean, I'm just a copygirl. If he didn't tell Michener or Jackson, why is he going to open up to a nobody like me?"

"Let's just say that I think you have the right tools and ability to get it out of him. He has a thing for busty brunettes."

"That's why you're giving me this assignment, 'cause I have big tits? You think I'm going to sleep with him to get the stupid story? I'm sorry Mister Bruneau, if you think I would do something like that..."

"Calm down... I never said that. All that I am saying is that I think you're the right person for this job. I'm sure you know that a reporter will do whatever it takes to get the story. Especially one as big as this one."

"And I'm sure you know that ethics are involved too. If I sleep with him to get the story, how am I ever going to get anybody to take me seriously?"

"I never said to sleep with him. Just do whatever you feel is necessary to get the story. And don't lecture me about ethics. I know all about them; more than you, young lady. You may be just out of the U of I with your little diploma, but I've been in this business for over twenty years."

Yolanda thought about the situation, and started opening her mouth to refuse the interview. Realizing that this was her big break, she decided to try to get the story, but not by sleeping with him .

"Are you going to do the interview, Miss Garcia?"

"I'm not only to do the interview, I'm gonna get the whole damn story, and I am not going to sleep with Zatcher to get it."

Bruneau laughed and said, "That's the spirit, now go get the story. As far as I'm concerned, I don't care what you have to do, just come back and give me eighteen inches, more if you need it."

****

Yolanda pulled her car to the gate of Zatcher's house, and pressed the button on the intercom.

"Who is it?" a sleepy voice asked.

"It's Yolanda Garcia, with the Tribune. I have an interview with Billy Zatcher."

"Hold on a second." She heard some papers shuffle, and after a few seconds, the voice continued, "Miss Garcia, Billy asked if you can come back tomorrow. He's a little busy right now," the sleepy voice laughed.

"Tell him that I have a deadline to meet, and if we can talk, for a few minutes at least, I would appreciate it."

"Hold on a sec."

Yolanda looked above the gate, noticing a camera focused on her. She could almost feel the eyes on the other side of the line examining her.

"Okay, but just a few minutes," the voice replied as the gate opened in front of me. "I'll meet you at the door and take you to him."

She drove up the brick driveway, parking her little economy car next to a Ferrari and a Land Rover. Opening the door, she adjusted her skirt and walked to the front door. As she approached the house, the door opened and a large man dressed only in sweatpants greeted her.

"Miss Garcia. I'm Al Jackson, Billy's bodyguard. Follow me please."

Yolanda followed him; it was hard not to, his back looked like it was bigger than her car. They turned a corner, walking past a gymnasium full of exercise equipment and a basketball court. Al opened a door to the left and waved for the reporter to go in. "He'll be right down. Do you want anything to drink?"

"No thanks."

"If you do, help yourself." he said nodding toward a refrigerator as he turned and left the room.

Trying not to stare at the muscular bodyguard as he left, Yolanda looked around the room. The walls were bare, except for a some speakers hung in the corners and a a couple of small mirrors. The only thing in the room, apart from the sofa she was sitting on, was a large big screen TV and an expensive looking stereo system. The whole setup probably cost more than she had earned in her entire life.

Standing, Yolanda approached on of the mirrors, fixing her hair and touching up her makeup.

****

"I bet I have her naked and moaning my name in thirty minutes," Billy Zatcher told his security guard.

"She is a sweet looking young thing isn't she? Uh-uh., I bet that she lasts the entire time. You're not getting anywhere with her. If it was me, however, I would have her sucking my cock in fifteen minutes. Did you see how she looked at me?"

"You're a fool for an old man. You think you could get her but I can't. What do you wanna bet?"

"C'mon Billy. You know I don't bet."

"Tell you what I'm gonna do, Al. Since you don't bet, and you don't have enough money to lose to me anyway, we're gonna play it like this. If I don't have her naked in one hour, I will double your salary. If I do, you have to go out with me tonight, see if we can get your fool ass laid tonight."

"I don't need your help for that, Billy. But you're on. Of course, it's not a bet, it's a business deal."

"Whatever you wanna call it old man. Now, let me go. Keep Michelle out of there, would you?"

"Now how am I supposed to do that, fool?"

"I don't know, that's what I pay you for, isn't it."

"I'm supposed to get paid to keep our ass out of trouble."

"And that's exactly what you're doin'. Keepin' my ass out of trouble with Michelle. You know how jealous she is."

"The only way that I can think of to keep her out of there will be to give her this big cock of mine, let her feel what a real man feels like."

"If that's what it takes, that's what it takes."

"Are you serious?"

"Hell yeah, I'm serious. I'm gettin' tired of her games anyway. If you want to fuck my leftovers, go ahead. I'm off on another conquest."

"You know one of these days you're gonna get your white ass shot at, and I'm not gonna stop them either. I'm just gonna let the poor girl take her pistol, aim it at your butt and let her fire away."

"You would , wouldn't you."

"Damn straight."

****

Yolanda watched the door open, and watched as Billy Zatcher entered the room. She had never met him before, and was surprised by his size. On TV, he always looked small, at least compared to the other football players, but in this small room, he was the largest man she had ever seen.

"Miss Garcia. Billy Zatcher, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too." Yolanda took his hand and was surprised as instead of shaking it firmly, he pulled it to his lips, and gently kissed the back of her hand.

"Encantado."

Yolanda blushed, and pulled her hand away from him. "Yo tambien," she answered.

"Now that I have said one of the three phrases that I know in Spanish, I suppose we can get to the reason that you're here. You want to interview me, and I bet you want to know the real reason that I retired. I'll tell you the answers to anything, even that, but like I keep telling everybody, I retired because I was tired of the game of football, but nobody believes me. Now, ask away."

Yolanda laughed, and asked Billy, "Okay, you told me that you know three Spanish phrases. What are the other two?"

Billy laughed and answered, "One of them is muchas gracias, and the other one I don't think you really want to hear; it's not something that I like to say in mixed company, that is, unless it's the appropriate time and place, if you know what I mean."

"Okay, maybe we'll get to that later on," Yolanda answered. As soon as she did, she regretted saying the words. She was supposed to be here interviewing Billy Zatcher, not flirting with him.

"Maybe we will." he answered with a wink.

Yolanda took a deep breath and continued, as she opened her mouth to speak, Billy went to an intercom next to the couch, and talked into it as he pressed a button. "Al, you old fool, turn the air on in here, it's hot in here."

"The air conditioner is broken, remember. Somebody's supposed to be here anytime now to fix it. You'll just have to suffer for the first time in your life. Hurry up in there, you have an appointment in two hours with Eyewitness News."

"I know. I'm not a little kid, you know, you don't have to remind me of everything. And the those assholes can wait for me, they aired a pretty crappy piece on me a few weeks ago."

Billy turned off the intercom, and turned back to the attractive reporter. "Sorry about the heat in here. The air's down, supposed to fixed later today. If you want, you can come back tomorrow and do this."

"No, I'm fine."

"Okay, but I'm getting a little warm." Billy pulled his shirt over his head and sat on the couch next to Yolanda. "I hope you don't mind, I'm feeling a little hot," he continued, staring at the reporter's chest.

Yolanda tried not to stare back at the quarterback's muscular body. Taking a quick breath, she looked down at her notebook, reminding herself why she was there.

"There has been a lot of speculation among the press, that the real reason of your retirement has to do with gambling or drugs. Do you have any comment on those rumors?"

"I already told you. Nothing to do with drugs, nothing to do with gambling. I just got tired of the game. Let me rephrase that, it's not the game that I grew tired of, but the meaningless practices, the trips to the doctor to get my knees scoped, the mornings after when I felt like I could barely walk. You see this scar on my shoulder," he said pointing to a scar that ran from the back to the front of his shoulder, "that's where they had to go in and rebuild almost my whole damn shoulder, don't mention that in the paper, it's a secret. If I ever return, I don't want people aiming for it. This one on my left knee, that's where they had to piece everything back together just to get another year out of me. I can't run or do anything without wearing a damn brace on it. That's why I retired. When I'm sixty years old, I wanna be able to walk, on my own knees, not some plastic that the doctors put inside me. That's the real reason I retired."

Yolanda nodded her head and continued asking questions, "Some people very close to you have stated that the gambling rumors are true, that the real reason that you retired is that the commissioner's office forced you to either retire for two years, or to be suspended for two years."

"I can tell you that those people are wrong. Nothing but jealousy among a few people that I thought were my friends."

Yolanda found herself fighting to keep her eyes off Billy's muscular body. She kept looking at his developed abs, his broad shoulders, and wondering what it would feel like to touch them, to be wrapped into his arms and carried away.

"As you probably know, there is a published report, out of Las Vegas, that states unnamed sources that you owe millions of dollars to some, shall we say, people with questionable backgrounds. In the report, there were also computer files detailing your debts. You have never gone on record about that report. Would you like to now?"

"Computer files can be faked. I can turn on my computer, and in twenty minutes have files saying that the President of the United States owes Las Vegas gamblers with questionable reputations millions of dollars."

"Even so, you have to admit that the evidence is compelling, at least..."

"Wait a second Yolanda, let me show you this." Billy stood, and pulled off his sweatpants, standing in front of her in a jockstrap and pointing to a large scar running down the back of his thigh. "This scar, that was from a hamstring operation," he said moving closer to her, then pointing to another, smaller scar on the inside of his thigh," this one was from when they shoved a tube up there, all the way to my heart, because they thought that my arteries were clogged, turns out that my heart is irregular, every once in a while, it skips a beat. Nobody knows about that, so that's off the record. I'm not playing around with that.

Billy was now inches away from Miss Garcia, his cock hidden from her view by the jockstrap; if she wanted to, all she had to do was reach out... His muscular thighs were so tempting, she wanted to feel them against her skin, she wanted to move closer, let her lips kiss his skin, let...

She stood abruptly, turning away from him. "It is getting really hot in here." She turned to face him again, and found herself inches away from him. She looked up and saw that he was smiling at her. "What are you smiling about?" she asked.

"I was just wondering, if you want to hear the other Spanish phrase that I know."

"Yes."

"Quieres chupar mi verga?"

If she wasn't so attracted to him, Yolanda would have slapped him and run out the door, but she smiled at him, dropping to her knees in front of him. "Si, I want to suck your cock."

Yolanda grabbed his jockstrap, pulling it down, exposing Billy's semi-hard cock. Moving her lips to it, she softly kissed it, letting her tongue run down the length of his cock. She moved her tongue back up to the tip, and let her lips open, pushing his cock into her mouth. Looking up at him, she stood, wrapping her arms around him. Billy picked her up, bringing her lips to his, and their lips touched in an impassioned kiss.

Moving to the couch, he sat on it, placing her on his lap. As their lips pressed together in an impassioned kiss, her lips opened, inviting his tongue inside. His hands grabbed her silk blouse, and not bothering to open the buttons, he ripped her blouse open, the buttons bouncing across the floor. His hands reached between her bra and her back, and with a strong tug, the bra broke free, and he slid it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

As he took one of her large hardened nipples into his mouth, she moaned loudly, arching her back, pressing her breast into him. unable to think straight, only wanting to feel him inside her. She reluctantly pulled her nipple from his warm mouth, and stood on the couch. She moved his hands under her skirt, and he ripped her panties from her body. With another tear of fabric, her expensive silk skirt was on the floor next to them, and she moved her pussy to his mouth.

His tongue playfully licked up and down her wet slit, and Yolanda started to move her hips in rhythm with his mouth. The desire in her continued to build, and as much as she enjoyed what he was doing, she needed his cock inside her, now.

Sitting on his lap, she guided his cock between her legs, between the lips of her wet pussy. Pushing down on him, she gasped as it filled her, deeper than she had ever felt anything inside of her before. Getting used to his size, she started to bounce on him, moving faster and faster. His strong hands were holding on to her, helping her bounce.

She felt like a rodeo cowgirl, riding her hot stud; his hot cock filling her, bringing her feelings she had never even dreamed possible. With a loud groan, Yolanda's orgasm started, like a tiny shot of electricity, it started at her pussy, working its way slowly throughout her body. Not able to take any more, she reluctantly slowed, moaning uncontrollably.

"We're not done yet, baby," Billy told her. Picking her up, he stood her next to the couch, her butt next to him. His hand touched her back softly, gently pushing her. Bent over the arm of the couch, she felt Billy enter her pussy from behind. With a quick thrust, he pushed his cock into her. With a loud moan, Yolanda pushed back, his cock filling her pussy. Soon they developed a rhythm, and Yolanda could feel herself start to orgasm again. Screaming at him to fuck her, she didn't notice the door open and a woman enter the room yelling.

"You bastard, Billy. Who the fuck is this slut you're fucking."

Yolanda's orgasm was just reaching its peak, and although she saw the woman enter the room, she neither cared nor acknowledged her in any way. All she wanted was for her orgasm to continue.

She didn't notice the woman approach her, breaking into a run, barreling into her and pushing her onto the couch. Lying naked on the couch, barely able to move from her subsiding orgasm, she looked at this woman on top of her, and finally put two and two together.

"You bitch," the woman screamed. "Billy's mine and..." she stopped in midsentence as she noticed Billy and his bodyguard by the doorway, bent over in laughter. "What are you two laughing about?" the woman yelled at them.

"Nothing Michelle, nothing at all." the two men broke out in uncontrollable laughter again. "We're not laughing at anything at all."

Michelle got off of Yolanda, and approached the two men. Grabbing the quarterback's cock, she yanked on it, telling him, "Come with me asshole."

"Now Michelle, don't get rough with me. I was just having some fun..."

"Fun my ass. Now follow me, Billy," she said, pulling on his cock harder, and leading him out of the room.

Yolanda looked at the bodyguard as he stared at her. Remembering that she was naked, she stood quickly, covering herself the best she could. Reaching down for her clothes, she tried putting them on, but gave up as she realized that everything was ruined. Using the remains of her skirt to cover herself, she looked at Al, and asked, "How am I supposed to go home? I don't have any clothes, all of this is ruined."

Al laughed quietly, "That's okay baby, I can find something for you. I can also tell you something, completely on record. The reason Billy retired is so his reputation wouldn't get ruined; the commissioner found proof that he was betting on games, and threatened to suspend him if he didn't retire."

"Why are you telling me this now? You know I'll have to write it in a story."

"You can write it all you want, sweetie, but before you do, look at this." Al reached for a remote control, and pushed a few buttons. The television turned on, and in a second, Yolanda was seeing herself on the screen, completely naked as she rode Billy. With another push of a button, her voice filled through the room, amplified by the stereo.

"Give me that tape, now!"

"Sure, but then I won't be able to give you anything to wear out of here. And there is a TV news team waiting right out in front of the house, waiting to interview Billy for the eleven o'clock news tonight."

Yolanda looked at him, and weighed her options. Unable to speak, she looked at Al helplessly.

"Sorry, nothing I can do. And we're keeping this tape for four reasons. Number one, so you'll keep your mouth shut about the gambling. Two, now you can go back, and write a nice story about how wonderful Billy is, and what he told you about his retirement, that he retired because of his health, you can even break the story about the shoulder operation. Three, it will be nice entertainment for us, who knows, maybe next time you're here, Billy will have you fuck Michelle, maybe even me, that is, if you're lucky. The fourth reason, is because whenever there is a scandal involving Billy, remember that we have this tape."

"Fine, whatever. Can I have some clothes now?"

"Sure." Al walked out of the room, returning in a few minutes, throwing Yolanda a football jersey. "That's it, just a jersey? It's almost see through, you know."

"I noticed. Okay, miss Garcia, you drive a hard bargain." Al threw her a baseball cap. Catching it, Yolanda read the front of it: 'I've been screwed by Billy Zatcher.' Throwing it back at him in anger, she walked out the door, going all the way to the front door. Opening it, she saw the television crew. Slamming the door shut, she walked back to the room, finding Billy lying naked on the couch, with his hard cock in Michelle's mouth.

"I see you made it back. Either come over here right now and join us, or please leave the house."

Somehow, Yolanda smiled and walked toward him. "I guess I can think of worse punishments."

End