The Battle for TV Ratings

I was the general manager of the local TV station in a small market. I was also the producer of the 5-8 am news, a segment that should be a profitable endeavor. Our viewership numbers were lagging behind the three other competing channels in the market, and it wasn't close. The other three channels were running anywhere from a 4.7 rating to a 6.5. We were running at 2.7. Viewership equals advertising dollars. We had done everything. A new set. New graphics. TV news is a take-no-prisoners, cut-throat world. TV stations in any town will do anything possible for ratings. I was at my wits end.

We had great on-air personalities. We had two anchors, a male and a female, and a female meteorologist. They were all pleasant on the eyes. Dan, our male anchor, looked like a Ken doll. His co-anchor, Ashley, I would compare to Kaley Cuoco of "Big Bang" fame. She was a finalist in our state pageant for the national title. 5' 8" with an athletic build and long, blonde hair. Our weather girl, Jenny, was more voluptuous than Ashley. She stood 5' 6" with 38DD-24-36 curves and long, brown, curly hair. I had heard rumors that both girls could be "had" fairly easily, but I had never tested the waters personally in order to maintain a professional relationship.

On a typical Tuesday we were having our typical newscast when it happened.

At 6:15, Jenny was going over the weather patterns and forecast. She looked stunning. But she always did. Today she was wearing a tight, knee length dress with red heels. The dress had a zipper all the way up the front, just up to her breasts. It stopped there, showing just enough cleavage to drive the men wild.

She turned to face the camera when suddenly the studio was filled with a large tearing sound. The seam of Jenny's zipper completely ripped apart from her breast to her waist! The dress flew open like barn doors and her breasts were the proverbial horses racing out the doors. Her lacy red bra was on full display.

Ahhh, the joys of live television! The air left the room. Jenny froze for a moment, then looked down at the remains of the dress. She quickly tried bringing the zipper back up, but it was no use. The dress was hanging on by its shoulder straps.

Jenny realized it was no use. Then, like the pro she is, she quickly wrapped up her segment like nothing had happened.

Jenny threw it back over to Ashley and Dan. They were more than a little shocked at what had just happened, but recovered and the show moved on. When the 6:28 wrap up of the past half hour rolled around, Jenny rejoined the set wearing her street clothes. And that's how she finished the morning.

I thought we were finished. I thought I was finished. I got a call from the New York offices asking "what the hell happened" and reminded me of FCC standards. I promised it would never happen again. They made it very clear that it had better not happen again or heads would roll.

The Wednesday show was uneventful. But I got a call from New York later Wednesday morning. They said our numbers showed a slight uptick for the 7-8 am hour for Tuesday to a 2.8 and another uptick for Wednesday's show to 2.9. They wondered if Tuesday's wardrobe malfunction had anything to do with it. They wondered if word had gotten out and male viewers were hoping for another wardrobe malfunction. Now they were okay with what happened Tuesday! They wondered if I could arrange for another "malfunction" to test the theory. I told them I'd do what I could.

I let Thursday's show go on as normal. I checked the overnight numbers early Friday morning. They were back where they were Monday at 2.7, before the malfunction. Maybe they were right.

I went to Jenny before Friday's show and explained the theory to her.

"Let me get this straight. You're asking me to show my tits? Again?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, uh, yeah."

She glared at me. "And, if this so called theory is right, they'll want me to do it again?"

"Well, uh, yeah, I'd say that's a definite probability."

She thought about it. "What's in it for me?"

I scratched my chin. "Tell you what. If the numbers jump again, I'll call New York and go to bat for you. If they don't wanna play ball, I'll never ask you to do it again. Even if it means my job."

She stared at me. She knew I'd go to bat for her. It wouldn't be the first time I'd have run interference for my staff.

"Fine. I'll do it."

For this morning's show she wore a tight black pencil skirt that fell to knee length. The black high heels only emphasized her toned legs. Up top she wore a white satin blouse that buttoned up the front. It was so tight it looked like it was about two sizes too small. The top button landed in the upper portion of her ample cleavage.

The 6:30 segment rolled around. Still no wardrobe malfunction. Jenny began her full forecast at 6:45. About three-quarters of the way through it, she twisted towards the camera. The shirt exploded! The buttons were literally popped off of it, falling to the floor. The shirt flew wide open, revealing a lacy, sheer white bra.

Once again, jaws hit the floor. Jenny half-heartedly acted as if she was shocked. She barely made any effort at all to cover up. After pausing for full effect, she quickly wrapped up her segment and threw it over to the anchor desk.

Just as the other day, Dan and Ashley had stunned looks on their faces when the cameras hit them. But they quickly recovered and carried on with the show. For the rest of the broadcast, Jenny was wearing a different, much looser shirt.

I checked the overnight numbers on Saturday. Just as before, the 7-8 o'clock segment ticked up to a 2.8. I was anxious all weekend to see what the Monday numbers were.

Monday's show went off without a hitch. Once again, Tuesday revealed the numbers ticked back up to a 2.9 for Monday's show. Could it be?! I thought. New York called. They were desperate. They wanted a wardrobe malfunction to become a weekly "feature" of the show. I told them Jenny wasn't going to do it for nothing. They asked for a few hours to mull it over.

Late Monday afternoon I got a call from New York. I went to Jenny.

"The theory seems to be holding steady. We went from a 2.7 to a 2.9. New York says for every 10th of a point increase over 3.0 they're give you $1,000. And if we can take over the market there's a $10,000 bonus in it for you."

Jenny thought about it. I could see the dollar signs in her eyes. "Tell them to double it and it's a deal."

Monday and Tuesday's broadcasts were typical. We were back down to a 2.7. Then came Wednesday.

Jenny looked great. She was wearing a tight blue wrap-around dress that clung to every curve. I was on the edge of my seat every day and every segment waiting to see if she would actually do it. The 5-6 segment sailed past. As she was giving her 6:15 forecast I saw her give an ever-so-slight tug at her hip where the dress gathered together. If you weren't paying attention you'd have missed it.

The dress completely unraveled. From top to bottom, it flew open. She raised her arms in the air as if she was in shock, pulling it even further apart. She was full frontal to the camera. What the home audience saw was a lacy dark blue pushup bra with matching boy panties. She let it hang there for several moments, then finally pulled it closed. She finished the forecast with one hand holding the dress closed as best as she could while the other hand operated the clicker.

The 6-7 o'clock segment jumped to a 2.9. Thursday's show climbed to the magic 3.0. Friday's show came. 5-6, nothing. 6-7, nothing. I wondered if she was going to miss an opportunity.

Her 7:15 segment came up, her next-to-last segment of the week. She was wearing almost a duplicate blouse to the button-popping malfunction, only the shirt was much looser today. But something looked different with the skirt for this 7:15 segment. She had her back almost completely turned to the camera when it happened. The zipper flew down the crack of her heart shaped ass. With nothing left to hold it, the black skirt fell to the floor. She strategically decided to wear a thong today. Her tan, bare ass was pointed straight at the camera. She stood there for a moment, then almost too slowly bent over to pull the skirt back up, totally mooning the viewing audience. She finished she segment holding the skirt up with one hand.

The stunt happened too late in the show to affect Friday's numbers, which held steady at 3.0. But Monday's show jumped to a 3.2! More and more horny males were tuning into our morning show to see if Jenny would bare flesh!

We realized the stunt was working. Twice a week, Jenny would have various wardrobe malfunctions showing various amounts of skin. The ratings continued to climb. The network was happy to keep writing her checks. News was beginning to spread about the "malfunctioning meteorologist". Her fan mail increased tenfold, full of marriage proposals and sexy underwear.

Our anchor Ashley wasn't aware these stunts were being encouraged by New York. She was aware, however, of the attention Jenny was suddenly getting. And she was jealous. She decided she was going to fight fire with fire.

Ashley's conservative clothing became sexier and sexier. The amount of cleavage she showed was getting deeper and deeper, to the point that it dipped well below her bust line. She got a sexy new haircut. Her tops were becoming more and more sheer. The bright lights of the studio made several of her tops appear almost transparent. It became quite apparent that Ashley had large, pink areolas. On multiple shows she would do an extreme turn to Dan when she was handing it off to him. Her shirt would puff open enough to catch a sideways glimpse of her bare breast inside, but only a fleeting glance. Ashely was getting some attention but nothing compared to Jenny. It was making her crazy. She was getting more and more bold, as was Jenny. And New York was loving it. In only a few short weeks we had climbed to a 4.1. We were closing in our competition!

The weather outside was turning colder but things were heating up in the studio. On one particular day, Jenny was wrapping up her 9-day forecast.

"So, guys, as you can see, the temps continue to fall over the next few days. Look at that. Next Thursday's high is going to be in the high 30s! Woooo, that's cold! Just thinking about it makes my nipples hard!" Her gumdrop-sized nipples looked like two finger tips pointing out of her shirt. She reached up and pinched a nipple. "Yes sir, that's a little nipply outside!" She looked over to the anchor desk. "Dan and Ashley, dress warm is all I can say!"

Ashely looked straight into the camera. "Wooo, that is cold, Ashely! Almost as nipply as it is in the studio!" Ashley's pencil-sharp nipples were trying to poke through her top. She reached through the wide opening of her shirt. Her forearm pulled the shirt open enough to bare the edge of her areola. She tweaked and twisted a nipple. "Ooooo, thank goodness my hands are warm." She looked to Dan. "Dan, how about you? Are you staying warm?"

Dan cleared his throat. "(ahem) Yes. Yes. Oh, yeah. Uh, I'm plenty warm, thank you. So, uh, let's take a look at some breaking news."

Game on.

Now that Ashley had thrown down the gauntlet, this back and forth between the two girls only grew over the next few days. As did the ratings. We were up to a 4.8. We had taken over third place in the market.

On a cold Tuesday morning both women were dressed in tight, thin sweaters. It was quite obvious both women were chilly. Both sweaters dove well past their breasts.

Ashley looked hot. Her beige sweater looked great against her long brown hair and beautiful brown eyes. She was reading off her teleprompter.

"Dan, I understand you've got some breaking news." The camera switched to Dan in his suit jacket and tie.

"That's right, Ashley. Our crack team is...huh?!" Dan sat bolt upright in his seat.

Across the bottom of the screen, just barely viewable above the anchor desktop, you could see a streak of beige. Ashley's hand was under the desk! If you listened hard you could hear the sound of a zipper. In a flash, Ashley had Dan's penis out of his pants and growing quickly in her hand.

Dan tried to continue. "Yes, uh, mmmmm, our, uh, crack team is on the s-s-s-sight of a 5-alarm fire near M-m-m-main and, uhhh, Mck...Mck...Mckinley Avenue. Let's got to our man S-s-s-s-teve on the scene. Steve, (ahem), what've you got?"

Steve popped up on the screen behind the anchor desk with a smoldering home behind him. The two anchors turned to the screen. Ashley smoothly switched hands in Dan's lap. His pole had grown to full mast. It was nothing to brag about, but it would definitely satisfy any woman if he had any kind of clue how to use it.

Ashley continued to stroke him while Steve told the tale of this unfortunate family who was lucky to escape the flames but were now homeless.

When he wrapped up his report, the two anchors turned back to face the camera. The camera singled in on Ashley. It was quite clear to the viewing audience that her arm was stretched out of the frame and making a slight up and down motion.

"Thanks for that report, Steve. We'll keep a firm grip on that story, right Dan?" Ashley asked with a twinkle in her eye.

Dan's cock throbbed in her hand. The veins were pulsing with life.

"Ohhhhh yeah, grrrrr, that's right, Ashley. She'll keep a firm grip...er, I mean, we'll keep you breasted...abreast...of the story as-s-s-s it grows...I mean, develops-s-s-s."

Ashley fought back a chuckle. The camera went back to her. "That's right, folks. Now, on to national news." She paused. She looked at Dan with a crooked smile. "Dan, would you like to do the national news? Or would you like for me to handle it?"

Dan's face was flushed, even through his TV makeup. He shook his head. "No. No. Please. I'd, uh, lov-v-v-ve for you to handle it."

"Anything you say, Dan," she said with a smile as she continued to beat him off. She turned back to the camera. "In Washington, President Trump tweeted..."

Off camera, Dan's fists were on top of the desk clenched into fists. His body began to jerk. With an audible grunt that could be heard in homes across the area, his cock began to pump it's warm, thick spunk across Ashley's hand and into his chair. He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip, trying to not make a sound. Ashley grabbed him tighter and stroked him faster. His body continued to jerk until the flow of cum stopped flowing across Ashely's now coated hand.

Ashley pulled her hand from under the desk and into the camera frame. Her hand was covered in thick white fluid. It ran down her wrist and dripped onto the desk. Her eyes twinkled as she stared into the camera. She lifted her hand to her face and stuck two fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean.

"Mmmmmmmm..." she purred into the camera. "Congress will vote (another finger into her mouth and out) on the measure later today (she licked the back of her hand). Dan?" she said, licking her lips.

The camera switched to Dan. His head was down. "Oh shit," he panted. Then he realized the camera was on him. His head shot up. Sweat spotted his forehead. "Oh! Yes. Uh, yes, in local news..."

Jenny was watching this from the side. She was seething. She wagged a finger at me. "What's going on? Is she part of the deal?" she growled.

I shook my head. "No, she doesn't know anything about it."

She clenched her teeth and growled again. She grabbed my hand and pulled me. "C'mere." She pulled me in front of the camera to the side of the frame. She placed me in front of her mark on the floor with my back to the camera. "Stay there. Don't move!" I froze like a statue.

"Now let's go over to Jenny for a look at the weather," Dan said into the camera. When he turned to Jenny's weather area the look on his face turned to a what the fuck look when he saw me standing there with my back to the camera. "It sounds like we might have some changes to our weather, huh?"

Jenny was on the opposite side of the weather map from me. "That's right, Dan, changes are in store," she said as she stepped across the studio to me. "Today and tomorrow look quite nice," she said when she got to my side. "But things will turn a little more turbulent after that." Her hands were unbuttoning her blouse. She unbuttoned it all the way down and then pulled it out of the skirt. Her taught, tan stomach was on full view, as was her sheer white bra. Her nipples were trying to poke massive holes in it. All of the oxygen left the room. You could hear a pin drop. Eyes were transfixed. Steam was rolling out of Ashely's ears.

Jenny's hand moved around to my chest and slid its way down. Her body was pressed against mine, side to side. "Things will be turning very...hot," she purred. The sound of my zipper filled the room. "A high pressure suction..." She giggled as she pulled my cock from my pants. "I mean system...will be dropping into our area," she said as slid over and dropped to her knees in front of me. She grabbed my tool and started to stroke it. She poked her head around me so the camera could see her. "This area of high suction..." she giggled again. "I mean, system...high pressure system...will bring high winds with it meaning lots of things will be blown."

Her head disappeared behind my body. Without a word, she took me into her mouth. I gave a loud gasp. My arms shot straight down to my sides. Her lips felt like hot velvet. Slurping was heard in every living room as her head bobbed quickly on my post.

She took me from her mouth and poked her head around so the camera could see her again. "But the high winds will feel quite refreshing while it offsets the humidity that surrounds you." Her head disappeared from view as she took me back into her mouth.

She took me down her throat with no problem at all. She held her face buried into me until she gagged. She could feel me pound in her throat. Her head bobbed quicker. My heart was racing.

She pulled me out again and peeked around at the camera. "But that hard blowing wind will be followed by rain, possibly torrential downpours."

Her head disappeared from the camera view again. Her head bobbed violently on my pulsing member. She pulled me out of her mouth and spit on it. Both hands grabbed me firmly and stroked it hard and fast.

"C'mon, baby, rain for me. I want you to rain down on me," she purred as she looked up into my contorted face.

She took me back into her mouth and drove me into her throat several more times.

My body started to twitch. "Oh gawd...oh gawd...oh gawd," I moaned.

She pulled me out of her mouth and roughly tugged on me with both hands again. "C'mon, baby, gimme your rain."

She pointed me at her chest. The first rope of white shot out of me like it had been shot out of a cannon. It splashed across her chest. A second and third rope shot out, spreading it's warmth across the top of her incredible tits. She took me back into her mouth and sucked me dry while my body trembled.

She stood back up and stepped out from behind me. Her chest and tits were covered in a thick, white rain. Gravity was pulling it through her cleavage. Her white bra had spots of moisture across it.

A 9-day forecast graphic popped up behind her. She swiped two fingers across the top of her tits and slipped them through her lips. She pulled them out clean and smiled. "Mmmmmm, that rain feels and tastes so gooooood," she said sexily into the camera. I'm sure 200,000 men just came on their couches. She turned her head to the anchor desk. "Back to you...Ashley," she hissed.

Ashley had already stripped off her slacks below the anchor desk and was yanking Dan off his chair and behind her. She turned her back to the camera. Once again, his zipper was ripped open.

She leaned into him. "Unless you're gay, you know what to do," she said into his ear. She spun back to face the camera. She grabbed the edge of the desk and bent over slightly. She looked back into the camera. "Not that there's anything wrong with being gay." She paused. "Let's go back to that breaking news. Steve, how's that hot, hot fire? Do the firemen have their hoses out?"