anonymous
12-17-2007, 05:32 AM
The continuing adventures of Cindy Crawford - supermodel, mother, and celebrity bordello owner. These tales are fictional, not meant to represent actual conduct (especially in the case of one character in particular), and not for readers under 18. Comments and suggestions to cindylover1969@yahoo.co.uk
* * * * * * * * * *
"That's the third tape she's filled up," Cindy laughed to herself, ejecting the answering machine tape Pink (one of J-Lo's ladies) had used to leave abusive messages about Cindy Inc. for, and dumping it in the incinerator. By pure coincidence, tonight was the night that Britney Jean Spears would be holding court at Cindy Inc. for one night only, having rejected the Boeing jet-loads of money that Lopez et al had offered.
Not only had they been inundated with demands to be among the lucky few who'd get to bone Britney, but all Cindy's other ladies had benefitted from the overspill - Cindy Inc.'s roster was booked for the rest of the year and well into the next one. And best of all, Britney was already on the premises (all had agreed that a repeat of the London fiasco was best avoided).
"You've got mail," said Cindy's computer as she was about to go and get ready for tonight. She considered leaving it for later, but felt a quick check couldn't hurt, and soon found she only had one letter in the box. It was a link to another site.
"Hm," Cindy thought as she clicked it out of curiosity. "Probably another stupid spam site, but you never know..."
Then she sat down in shock. It had opened onto a webcam picture of the Plaza Suite; no one was inside as yet. Above the picture was a clock counting down to 8pm Pacific time. Below was the line "See Britney Spears Lose Her Virginity LIVE From Cindy Inc. Tonight From 8pm PT."
What made it even worse was that it was only three minutes to eight RIGHT NOW. Cindy knew that she could still make it to the Plaza Suite and stop Britney, but she was too shocked to move for the crucial extra minute she had. By the time she broke loose and ran for the room, it was already a minute to eight.
"STOP!!!" she screamed as she broke into the private room, and then metaphorically bit her tongue. Britney Jean Spears was in there all right, but all alone. Cindy exhaled in relief - she could still stop her.
"What's up, Cindy?" Britney asked, twirling the strap of her nightgown.
"Someone's set up a webcam here..." Cindy gasped. "You said no one could watch..."
"Oh, ah know about that silly little cam," Britney giggled. "It was MY idea! I want people to see me pop my cherry... hell, I want them to see you do it."
If the big one had hit at that moment, Cindy couldn't have felt more disoriented. She figured that the dissenters had been right all along... "You want ME to do it?"
"Sure," Britney replied, striding towards Cindy. "Part of the deal was I got to choose who broke me in, and I choose you. Come on, think of all the press you'll get - Madonna'll be so jealous she'll shit herself to death!"
"But what about the other guys?" Cindy asked, starting to back off nervously.
"Oh, they'll be here too," Miss Spears laughed. "The more the merrier I say. Besides, they'll love watching you eat me. Now come on," she added, opening her robe as it struck eight, "you don't want to let down everyone on the Net do you?"
The naked Britney came closer and closer to Cindy, who heard the door lock behind her. In a few moments she'd be fucking Britney Spears and there wasn't anything she could do about it...
Cindy was glad she awoke before she could feel the young pop star's shaved cunt on her mouth. Of course, there wasn't really a webcam in the Plaza Suite. And Britney wasn't really going to fuck her that night. But there was going to be a draw that night which the little lady herself would be hosting. And there had been a number of dissenters in the ranks when Cindy had announced that Britney would be joining them - a lot of female stars didn't like Britney Spears, but some hated her more than others; only a guarantee that this was a one-night-only thing had prevented a mass exodus.
* * * * * * * * * *
"No, for the last time you cannot take tonight off," Cindy told Sela Ward exasperatedly. Sela and Cat Deeley were one of a number of her ladies who had suddenly decided to not be on the premises that night.
"But this is Britney Spears we're dealing with," Sela argued.
"Yeah, it's not like this is Claire Richards," Cat added.
"Who?" Cindy and Sela asked her, genuinely puzzled. The MTV UK presenter then realised that hardly anyone in America knew who Steps were, and made a mental note to fill Cindy in when she went to London (in a future story). "It's not like this is... um... someone from 'Smallville.'"
"Look, if you're worried that no one'll be paying attention to you - no one'll be noticing me either and I'm in charge of the place. If it'll make you feel better, bonuses all round."
"And exclusive interview rights," Cat added hastily.
"And exclusives, yes," Cindy agreed as her intercom went off. "Talk to me," she added, buzzing it on.
"She's here," her secretary said icily. She wasn't a Britney fan either.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Welcome to Cindy, Inc., Britney!" Cindy smiled, taking the surprisingly diminutive pop star's hand.
"GAAAAAD! I can't believe I'm actually HERE!" Britney squealed in reply. "You really ARE pretty hot - for your age, I mean..."
"You're not too bad yourself - for your age, I mean," Cindy replied. "All ready for tonight?"
Britney nodded. "My mom couldn't believe it when I told her about this; tried to tell me to leave it for Justin, but I figured if he's making goo-goo eyes at Christina AAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHuilera then he just don't deserve this." And she pointed to a particular part of her anatomy (no prizes for guessing which one).
"At least they'll stop going on about your being a virgin after this," Cindy continued as they headed upstairs, ignoring the glances aimed at the two.
"But no pictures, 'kay? No press on the place when it starts - I don't want to find my bare ass all over the place tomorrow morning."
"We don't allow cameras in here anyway," Cindy reassured her as they reached the Suite - Britney would be relaxing there before tonight. "Um... Britney..."
"Yeah?" the younger woman asked in anticipation.
Cindy hesitated. Telling her about her dream might give her the wrong idea...
"Looking forward to tonight," she finished. "Too bad it's only a one-time thing."
"Yeah. Too bad," Britney agreed. "See you later, Cindy."
Cindy watched the golden-skinned girl enter her room to rest. It was almost a shame about the no-cameras rule - if there was one meeting she would love to have kept, it was the night she had gotten together with an entire birthday party, but tonight's event would be right behind. Still, it reduced the chances of this getting in the papers, especially those fucking British tabloids.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Those fucking British tabloids. Good for them..." " she chuckled as she hung up the payphone. The phones at Cindy Inc. probably weren't bugged, but she wasn't taking any chances. Plus if any calls to London turned up on the place's phone bill (or even her own), there would be some awkward questions to answer in case it all went wrong; best to play it safe.
The word about Britney at Cindy Inc. had spread through the press like wildfire; everyone from Page Six to the 3am Girls had been trying to get the inside scoop, but all offers had been rejected, some more politely than others. The only one that had worked was one from the inside, which had been eagerly accepted by one of the less reputable paparazzi out there, who in turn had struck a deal with a UK paper. "Crawford's staff are checking the Plaza Suite for cameras every half hour," she had explained, "the last time about two minutes before 8. I can get a hidden camera in there in about a minute - I've got it all worked out. Angles, film, the works. They won't know what's hit them."
"What if they find out it was you?"
"They'll never find out. Besides, they had it coming... and Spears is paying me big time anyway."
* * * * * * * * * *
"What do we want?" shouted a fan in the crowd on the bordello floor.
"BRITNEY!" shouted the audience.
"When do we want her?"
"NOW!"
"What do we want?"
"To be deaf," Katie Holmes muttered as she sat back in her chair. "I don't know how Cindy talked me into this..."
"Money?" suggested Gwyneth Paltrow alongside her.
"Oh yeah," Katie replied as the door on the schoolroom set opened. The applause and chants of "BRIT-NEE! BRIT-NEE!" reached thunder levels as Britney Jean Spears entered, in her ever-popular schoolgirl uniform. "Hi!" she cried. "Sorry I'm late - would you believe the dog ate my homework?"
"You ate your own homework?" Natalie Portman asked sotto voce.
"Better take your seat," Alyssa Milano urged, patting the one next to her. "Teacher's almost here." She and the other students - Katie, Gwyneth, Natalie, Drew Barrymore, Beyonce Knowles, Cat Deeley, Shakira, Jessica Alba and Sheryl Crow ("Don't you think some of us are too old to pass for students?" Sheryl, the oldest participant in this fantasy and one of Cindy, Inc.'s older ladies, asked. "Remember 'Beverly Hills 90210'? Cindy replied. "The one who played Andrea was nearly 30 in real life when the show started!") - settled down as Miss Crawford entered to enact the chosen fantasy from the many that had been submitted by post or via the Cindy Inc. website.
"Good morning, class!" Cindy said briskly.
"Good morning, Miss Crawford!" chorused the class except Drew, who couldn't resist saying "Good morning, Charlie!"
"I thought I said no plugs for 'Charlie's Angels 2,'" Cindy mock-chastised Drew. "Now, did you bring your class project, Britney?"
"Uhhh..." Britney hesitated. "I've got it at home but I just forgot to bring it; I swear I'll have it here by lunch - "
"Sorry, Britney; but you know what the penalty is for undelivered assignments in my class... of course, if you want to demonstrate it here right now..."
Britney nodded, and skipped to the front of the class.
"Learn to act, why don't you?" Gwyneth muttered.
"Ease up on her, huh?" pleaded Jessica.
"My report," Britney started as she faced the others, "is on the importance of... of a good sex life."
"Don't you mean human relations?"
"Uh - uh, yeah, that's what I meant. I think everyone should be getting some regularly if they want to be well-adjusted and all..." Britney was flustered.
"Perhaps you'd like to demonstrate? Actions speak louder than words," Cindy suggested kindly.
"Well, okay," Britney replied. "But I didn't bring anything with me."
"We've got everything we need right here," Sheryl assured her, and without waiting for Cindy to give her a by-your-leave she got up.
"Wait a minute," Cindy told her. "Im my class we do things in alphabetical order. You'll get your turn... Jessica, you first."
The sultry young actress had been sitting at the top of the class specially for this moment. "What do you want me to do, Miss Crawford?" Jessica asked.
"Anything you think she'd like."
"Since I didn't bring any chocolate with me," Jessica sighed, "I guess I'll just have to..." and she brought her full, luscious lips directly onto Britney's. Several of the customers had dreamt about this, but seeing Jessica Alba actually French-kissing Britney Spears while Cindy Crawford watched tenderly drove some of them to come on the spot. Alyssa Milano cursed her being so low-placed on the alphabet; she was DRIPPING down there.
Jessica was seriously considering feeling up Britney along with the kisses, and she practically had her on the table when she felt hands pulling her away. "Not so fast, Jessica..." Cindy admonished. "You'll get your chance later - Drew, your turn. Only kisses... Britney wants a man to pop her."
Drew threw herself into her smooching of Britney with great enthusiasm; she was even less of a stranger to girl-girl stuff than the others. Britney rubbed Drew's back in return, enjoying feeling her arms around her. She also felt hands fondling her full, ripe bubble butt, digging into the back of her jeans, fingering her snatch...
"SHERYL CROW!" Cindy shouted. "I thought I told you all to wait!"
"But teach," Sheryl protested, "she wants us to do it! Look at her face - I always knew she was a little tart..."
"Okay; Britney, it's time to go. Sheryl, if you want to feel an ass, go for..." Cindy scanned the class. "...Cat's."
Cat Deeley looked shocked. "How come?"
"Why shouldn't a bird get to eat a cat for once?" Cindy joked. "The rest of you pair off and give each other a little... um... 'happy,' I think is the term Xander used." "Who's this Xander?" Shakira asked.
"Don't you get 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' in Colombia?" Beyonce told her. "Settle down honey, I'll tell you all about it," and she began to unzip Shakira's jeans, as Gwyneth and Natalie started to finger each other, Drew settled down alongside Katie to swap stories about Kevin Williamson while fondling their legs, and Alyssa and Jessica set up a "Charmed"/"Dark Angel" crossover...
* * * * * * * * * *
"Okay, so are we all ready for the draw?" Cindy shouted to the massed guys waiting to plunge their meat into the oven between Britney's legs, as Miss Spears held the hat into which each customer had put their name. "Don't keep them waiting, BJ..."
"You tell her, Bear!" shouted one of Britney's older fans.
"Good call!" Cindy replied, as Britney (who, let us not forget, was born the year "B.J. And The Bear" was cancelled) tried to hide her momentary confusion. Quickly shrugging it off, she dipped her hand in the hat.
Up in the Plaza Suite, the last minute checks were being made. It was a large, plush place, almost like the bedroom of a fairytale princess. The last place you'd expect events like, say, a gang-bang featuring four millionaires' sons and various hot ladies from WB shows (those who weren't signed by Jennifer Lopez, that is) to take place. The cleaning staff had been very good at removing all traces of that party.
"Nothing here," the chief of security noted, the last person to leave. "Let's move it on out..."
The door closed quietly behind them, the camera the chief of security had carefully placed in there waiting to record all the action.
Downstairs, the audience was trying hard to resist the temptation to go onstage and join in the fun. It was hard to know where to look; Sheryl Crow becoming the first woman to have a munch on Cat Deeley while she in turn did the honours to Alyssa Milano, Natalie Portman and Gwyneth Paltrow taking turn paddling Jessica Alba's butt, Beyonce on her knees behind Shakira while Katie Holmes was kneeling in front of her with their tongues in Miss Ripoll's respective orifices, or Drew... hang on, where WAS she?
"Uh-huh... uh-huh... okay, I'll tell them." She dropped the mobile phone on which she'd been talking to Cindy and faced the crowd.
"Folks, that was the boss lady - for tonight only, she's agreed to let the audience take part in the show..." She got no further as the crowd swarmed onto the stage.
Britney finished drawing the five names. "And the lucky guys are... Lance Bass, J.C. Chasez, Joey Fatone, Chris Kirkpatrick and Hugh Grant!"
A knowing laugh went through the crowd as she shook her head. "Just playin', people - they're..." She named four regular customers and one well-known actor, one of the many male celebs there under anonymity. (Author's note: Use your imagination...) With more than a few jealous glares, Britney shrugged. "Sorry for the others, but maybe next time... and if you go down to Cindy's Boudoir she's got a little surprise for you! Hang tight..."
The crowd made their way to the area where Cindy took care of those customers who specifically wanted a piece of Cindy Crawford - the only area in the large house more plush than the Plaza Suite, there was also a large closed-circuit TV. There already was a camera in there, but this was in addition to the several that were directly linked to this special set - for one night only. Britney would indeed be fucking live, but only for the benefit of the customers in that room. And NO video cameras would be recording it.
Except for the tiny one that the chief had slipped into the Plaza Suite.
As they watched, Britney and the five guys who would be taking turns with her entered the plush room. Cindy would be observing, as excited as the others; she had always had a secret love of watching, but she rarely did it with her own ladies. But getting to see Britney Spears getting poked was too good a chance to miss.
The side show below was getting out of hand. Shakira could feel her ass glowing as one guy after another pounded it, and her breasts, small and humble though they may have been, were slimy with all the come that was being sprayed on them. In fact, none of the ladies there escaped cream. She threw a glance at a blissfully happy-looking Beyonce - for someone who was supposedly God-fearing she looked awfully happy to be plugged up tight; she had two cocks in her mouth and was working them as if she was in line for a bonus, she had another two plunged deep inside her snatch, and did she have THREE up her voluptuous ass? How the hell was she going to walk?
Gwyneth Paltrow, like Martin Scorsese, was being screwed by the Oscars. In her case literally - she had liberally smeared Crisco all over some miniature statuettes and was demonstrating to a fan of hers how far she could stick one inside her. Much looser than she ever was on screen, the audience whooped as the Oscar slowly slid inside Gwyneth's cute little behind.
Cat Deeley was on her hands and knees, crawling from one person to the next. She only had one thing on her mind, and that thing was cock. She relived the past few moments when she had practically shoved Natalie Portman aside to get her head around a particularly plump one; now she was tasting a fresh dick, enjoying how cut it was (she loved the feel of unprotected cock on her tongue). Cat slurped away, waiting for the cream.
Sheryl Crow and Drew Barrymore were wrapped in each other's arms. Each was fast asleep; they had made each other come time and again, and had somehow managed to tune out all the racket around them. Sheryl had her fingers snugly fitted inside Drew's pussy, while the most famous living Barrymore was clutching Miss Crow's tight butt. As they slumbered, a customer was slowly pushing himself into Drew's soft ass, while Sheryl's long legs were being slowly stroked by Katie Holmes. She finally began to appreciate what the Beach Boys sang about wishing they could all be California girls. Katie took one of Sheryl's feet in her hands, and wriggling upwards began to put it inside her cunt.
Jessica Alba had several guys circled all around her; she was as naked as the men, and laughing as they had their erect cocks aimed at her. It wasn't the size of their penises that was making her crack up; as she jerked around on the ground, playing with her rack and twisting around to let them see her pussy and buns in turn, she was playing a game. Each man was wanking furiously over her, little gobs of come splatting onto her olive body everywhere, but they were all aiming for her open mouth. Her heavenly face had enough "milk" running down it to make for one amazing "Got milk?" poster, but few had been precise enough to land in her mouth. "Come on, people!" she laughed. "Get two in and you get me for the night..." She then received a shot right into her mouth and almost down her throat.
Alyssa Milano and Natalie Portman were tied together, nothing between them but a baguette carefully inserted into the actresses' cunts. They were being watched by a group, seeing the two struggling against the bonds; but whenever Alyssa tugged she drew Natalie closer and thrust the bread deeper inside the fictional Senator Amidala, and vice versa. Each had stolen a little kiss from the other as they tried to escape - "Boy, I wish I was David Blaine right now," Natalie muttered, not realising this would involve her standing on pillars for hours and being very boring indeed in interviews.
Natalie pulled too hard, and suddenly she and Alyssa were together - the bread would be totally softened by their snatch oils. "Kiss! Kiss! KISS! KISS!"
"Will you let us out if we do?" Alyssa begged, although she didn't mind feeling Natalie next to her.
Not waiting for an answer, she proceeded to teach Hayden Christensen a thing or 12 about enacting convincing love scenes with Natalie Portman...
Except for Cindy Crawford, no one in the Plaza Suite could keep their hands out of their trousers as they watched Britney Spears fellate each guy on screen in turn. Cindy had her hands inside her dress, stroking her thighs and her slot. If Britney really was a virgin, she had natural talent; if she wasn't, she sure could act.
"Oh baby..." Britney rasped as she blew the last of the five, all of whom had blown loads inside her mouth. But as they watched her rippling body sidling around on the bed and felt her fondling each guy, they were soon stiff and ready again. Numbers three and four were soon sinking their teeth into her beautiful bubble butt, while number five somehow squeezed in between, grabbed her sides and became the first man to know how the pussy of Britney Jean Spears felt.
"AAAAHHHHHH!!!!" she cried through the mouthful of cock, but even feeling his slightly painful pumping couldn't stop her sucking. She wailed again as number two started to core her butthole at the same time. And now she was feeling someone else licking her swaying tits. It was the guy she'd sucked just now.
Cindy's own gasps were blending with Britney's; this beat Pammie Anderson's sex tape all to hell (not to mention the live reenactments Pamela occasionally did at J-Lo's).
She started jerking around in her chair, her arms moving in and out of her dress faster, her fingers playing "Flight of the Bumblebee" and using her pussy as a piano. And all the time she was fixing her eyes on the show Britney was putting on.
Britney was bucking with the thrusts of the men behind her, as the man in front of her lifted her upper half as far as he could and began to pull on his cock above her raised tits. It took about four or five thrusts before she felt the warm, moist lotion landing on her mammaries and the guys' hot breath and lips. Behind her, kisses landed on the areas where the love bites were, and all the while three cocks were still working her. "Aaahhh.... OHHH FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUUCCCKKK!!!!" she screamed as the first prick fulfilled its mission, decorating the inside of her asshole.
The attention of the audience was divided between the show on screen and Cindy's own showcase. Her head was thrown back, her long legs were kicking wildly and her hands were furiously pumping her box. "DO IT BRITNEY HONEY!!!!" Cindy howled as she masturbated, apparently unaware of the others.
Britney begged the other guys not to stop, damn it to hell feeling them filling up all her holes felt great...
The chief of security was watching the festivities on her own closed-circuit TV in his office; the orgy in the main area, Britney's gangbang, Cindy's self-abuse... there was just one thing that could make it even better. She watched Cindy totter to her feet, withdraw her hands and smell them (if only he could get a whiff of her cunt-odoured digits), and withdraw from the room.
In the Plaza Suite, Britney was grinding away atop one of them, while the other four were fondling her as if this was one of her music videos. It was very hot in there, and Britney was having the time of her life. She loved feeling hands running all over her trim body, twisting her nipples and prodding her flesh, sqeeuzing all of her as she gyrated, doing her best to get the guy's seed out of his dick and into her. Through her half-shut eyes, she could see one of them coming towards her. But weren't all five of them in action?
"You know, I had a dream that you were coming on to me," Cindy sighed as she stood next to Britney.
"You and several hundred million guys," grunted one of the men between kisses on Britney's stomach.
"So what are you going to do about it?" asked the pop goddess, and got the answer she had expected, as Cindy slowly pushed Britney backwards, prick still thrusting inside her, and positioned herself on her face. Britney threw herself into Cindy Crawford's pussy as if she had never had one before, figuring if she was going to try muff better Cindy's than Christina's...
Down below, the ever-popular circle munch was in play. Like a hotter version of the Saban logo (which, for those who don't know, features a circle of young girls), the ten women participating were eating each other from oldest to youngest - Sheryl slurped on Alyssa, Alyssa ate Gwyneth, Gwyneth gobbled Drew, Drew dived into Cat, Cat cunnilinguised Shakira, Shakira sampled Katie, Katie... um... knew Jessica, Jessica jollied Natalie, Natalie navigated Beyonce, and Beyonce burrowed into Sheryl. The living circle of writhing, naked flesh was strictly hands off to the customers.
In the Plaza Suite, the favoured five were enjoying an extra treat as Britney, now free of penises, clutched Cindy as she enjoyed a woman for the first time. She could feel the taste of Cindy's privates hanging around in her mouth, and she wondered if she could negotiate an extension of her deal... Nah. Momma would never approve her hanging around here - it had been enough trouble to get her to agree to one night.
As the chief of security watched Cindy run her tongue over Britney's gleaming breasts, she nodded with satisfaction. It was fun watching this; it was always fun to watch at Cindy Inc... but if she did let the stuff out it wouldn't be fun any longer. She had seen lots of stuff go on in here, and did she really have the right to blow it all for a story in the tabloids? Money, money, money....
On the screen, Britney was on all fours on the bed, and Cindy was kneeling behind her, hands resting on Britney's golden globes while she tongued her. Cindy in turn was receiving attention from two of the five men, while two of the others were working on Britney as well. The fifth had managed to get himself into position and was joining Cindy in munching on Britney.
The chief dialled a number. She didn't want to share this night with anyone; hang the papers. If they wanted dirt on Britney they could get it from someplace else; this was a good job she had and damned if she'd screw it up.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Hello? Ramsey here. When they're through in here I'm going to wipe out the tapes... deal's off." No more words, no more discussion; she hung up.
Lynne Spears studied the phone for a long moment. She really thought she could have put her increasingly skanky daughter in her place this time. Still, she still had her sister to play with.
"There's no way YOU'RE going to turn out like her," she said to herself. "No way at all..."
* * * * * * * * * *
The floorshow was over when Cindy and Britney entered, both barely able to walk, but both with success in their eyes, and alert enough to say hi to the security chief in passing (the Suite lay on her route). The ladies had retired to their rooms either alone or with company before leaving in the morning.
"You sure I can't talk you into staying on?" Cindy asked.
"Sure," Britney replied.
"Not even a return engagement?"
"Welll....." Britney laughed evilly. "I think we can work somethin' out. But God I'm tired... do you have a place I can lay my head until my driver comes?"
"I always just go home afterwards," Cindy told her as they made their way out. "Maybe you can share a bed with one of the ladies upstairs."
"But they all hate me!" Britney argued.
"Jessica doesn't," Cindy pointed out. "Just go and get some sleep. It'll be all fine in the morning."
Britney snuggled closer to the blankets as she slumbered. She had spent a very busy night; unbeknowst to Cindy, she had traversed the rooms of Cindy Inc. going from one bed to another, mending any bridges she might have burnt unintentionally. She had finally ended up in bed with Cat, and though she had succumbed to sleep the MTV presenter hadn't.
As she stroked Britney's blonde head, Cat thought to herself that this wasn't quite the exclusive she had planned, but what the hell; they had had quite a pillow talk, in which Cat had become the first media personality to discover that Britney Spears would in fact be appearing at Cindy Inc. on a semi-permanent basis.
And why not? As the girl herself would shortly be telling a grateful Cindy Crawford, "I was born to make you happy."
* * * * * * * * * *
Blinking as the sun's rays hit her eyes, Cindy felt the cool grass on her cheek.
Slowly she drew herself into awake mode, and looked around. She was just outside a canefield, it was early morning, and she was alone. SHIT! So she hadn't made it -
Cindy's relief rushed out in a gasp as she saw her companion was next to her, still out cold. She looked at her watch; through the light she could make out it was 6:30. They only had 90 minutes to get there. And they still had to get to Kelly Brook...
"Wake up," she muttered as she grabbed her companion by the shoulders and shook her. No response.
"Dammit, come ON!" she shouted as she slapped her. "I can't do this without you! We have got to get out of here NOW, Lopez!"
* * * * * * * * * *
"That's the third tape she's filled up," Cindy laughed to herself, ejecting the answering machine tape Pink (one of J-Lo's ladies) had used to leave abusive messages about Cindy Inc. for, and dumping it in the incinerator. By pure coincidence, tonight was the night that Britney Jean Spears would be holding court at Cindy Inc. for one night only, having rejected the Boeing jet-loads of money that Lopez et al had offered.
Not only had they been inundated with demands to be among the lucky few who'd get to bone Britney, but all Cindy's other ladies had benefitted from the overspill - Cindy Inc.'s roster was booked for the rest of the year and well into the next one. And best of all, Britney was already on the premises (all had agreed that a repeat of the London fiasco was best avoided).
"You've got mail," said Cindy's computer as she was about to go and get ready for tonight. She considered leaving it for later, but felt a quick check couldn't hurt, and soon found she only had one letter in the box. It was a link to another site.
"Hm," Cindy thought as she clicked it out of curiosity. "Probably another stupid spam site, but you never know..."
Then she sat down in shock. It had opened onto a webcam picture of the Plaza Suite; no one was inside as yet. Above the picture was a clock counting down to 8pm Pacific time. Below was the line "See Britney Spears Lose Her Virginity LIVE From Cindy Inc. Tonight From 8pm PT."
What made it even worse was that it was only three minutes to eight RIGHT NOW. Cindy knew that she could still make it to the Plaza Suite and stop Britney, but she was too shocked to move for the crucial extra minute she had. By the time she broke loose and ran for the room, it was already a minute to eight.
"STOP!!!" she screamed as she broke into the private room, and then metaphorically bit her tongue. Britney Jean Spears was in there all right, but all alone. Cindy exhaled in relief - she could still stop her.
"What's up, Cindy?" Britney asked, twirling the strap of her nightgown.
"Someone's set up a webcam here..." Cindy gasped. "You said no one could watch..."
"Oh, ah know about that silly little cam," Britney giggled. "It was MY idea! I want people to see me pop my cherry... hell, I want them to see you do it."
If the big one had hit at that moment, Cindy couldn't have felt more disoriented. She figured that the dissenters had been right all along... "You want ME to do it?"
"Sure," Britney replied, striding towards Cindy. "Part of the deal was I got to choose who broke me in, and I choose you. Come on, think of all the press you'll get - Madonna'll be so jealous she'll shit herself to death!"
"But what about the other guys?" Cindy asked, starting to back off nervously.
"Oh, they'll be here too," Miss Spears laughed. "The more the merrier I say. Besides, they'll love watching you eat me. Now come on," she added, opening her robe as it struck eight, "you don't want to let down everyone on the Net do you?"
The naked Britney came closer and closer to Cindy, who heard the door lock behind her. In a few moments she'd be fucking Britney Spears and there wasn't anything she could do about it...
Cindy was glad she awoke before she could feel the young pop star's shaved cunt on her mouth. Of course, there wasn't really a webcam in the Plaza Suite. And Britney wasn't really going to fuck her that night. But there was going to be a draw that night which the little lady herself would be hosting. And there had been a number of dissenters in the ranks when Cindy had announced that Britney would be joining them - a lot of female stars didn't like Britney Spears, but some hated her more than others; only a guarantee that this was a one-night-only thing had prevented a mass exodus.
* * * * * * * * * *
"No, for the last time you cannot take tonight off," Cindy told Sela Ward exasperatedly. Sela and Cat Deeley were one of a number of her ladies who had suddenly decided to not be on the premises that night.
"But this is Britney Spears we're dealing with," Sela argued.
"Yeah, it's not like this is Claire Richards," Cat added.
"Who?" Cindy and Sela asked her, genuinely puzzled. The MTV UK presenter then realised that hardly anyone in America knew who Steps were, and made a mental note to fill Cindy in when she went to London (in a future story). "It's not like this is... um... someone from 'Smallville.'"
"Look, if you're worried that no one'll be paying attention to you - no one'll be noticing me either and I'm in charge of the place. If it'll make you feel better, bonuses all round."
"And exclusive interview rights," Cat added hastily.
"And exclusives, yes," Cindy agreed as her intercom went off. "Talk to me," she added, buzzing it on.
"She's here," her secretary said icily. She wasn't a Britney fan either.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Welcome to Cindy, Inc., Britney!" Cindy smiled, taking the surprisingly diminutive pop star's hand.
"GAAAAAD! I can't believe I'm actually HERE!" Britney squealed in reply. "You really ARE pretty hot - for your age, I mean..."
"You're not too bad yourself - for your age, I mean," Cindy replied. "All ready for tonight?"
Britney nodded. "My mom couldn't believe it when I told her about this; tried to tell me to leave it for Justin, but I figured if he's making goo-goo eyes at Christina AAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHuilera then he just don't deserve this." And she pointed to a particular part of her anatomy (no prizes for guessing which one).
"At least they'll stop going on about your being a virgin after this," Cindy continued as they headed upstairs, ignoring the glances aimed at the two.
"But no pictures, 'kay? No press on the place when it starts - I don't want to find my bare ass all over the place tomorrow morning."
"We don't allow cameras in here anyway," Cindy reassured her as they reached the Suite - Britney would be relaxing there before tonight. "Um... Britney..."
"Yeah?" the younger woman asked in anticipation.
Cindy hesitated. Telling her about her dream might give her the wrong idea...
"Looking forward to tonight," she finished. "Too bad it's only a one-time thing."
"Yeah. Too bad," Britney agreed. "See you later, Cindy."
Cindy watched the golden-skinned girl enter her room to rest. It was almost a shame about the no-cameras rule - if there was one meeting she would love to have kept, it was the night she had gotten together with an entire birthday party, but tonight's event would be right behind. Still, it reduced the chances of this getting in the papers, especially those fucking British tabloids.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Those fucking British tabloids. Good for them..." " she chuckled as she hung up the payphone. The phones at Cindy Inc. probably weren't bugged, but she wasn't taking any chances. Plus if any calls to London turned up on the place's phone bill (or even her own), there would be some awkward questions to answer in case it all went wrong; best to play it safe.
The word about Britney at Cindy Inc. had spread through the press like wildfire; everyone from Page Six to the 3am Girls had been trying to get the inside scoop, but all offers had been rejected, some more politely than others. The only one that had worked was one from the inside, which had been eagerly accepted by one of the less reputable paparazzi out there, who in turn had struck a deal with a UK paper. "Crawford's staff are checking the Plaza Suite for cameras every half hour," she had explained, "the last time about two minutes before 8. I can get a hidden camera in there in about a minute - I've got it all worked out. Angles, film, the works. They won't know what's hit them."
"What if they find out it was you?"
"They'll never find out. Besides, they had it coming... and Spears is paying me big time anyway."
* * * * * * * * * *
"What do we want?" shouted a fan in the crowd on the bordello floor.
"BRITNEY!" shouted the audience.
"When do we want her?"
"NOW!"
"What do we want?"
"To be deaf," Katie Holmes muttered as she sat back in her chair. "I don't know how Cindy talked me into this..."
"Money?" suggested Gwyneth Paltrow alongside her.
"Oh yeah," Katie replied as the door on the schoolroom set opened. The applause and chants of "BRIT-NEE! BRIT-NEE!" reached thunder levels as Britney Jean Spears entered, in her ever-popular schoolgirl uniform. "Hi!" she cried. "Sorry I'm late - would you believe the dog ate my homework?"
"You ate your own homework?" Natalie Portman asked sotto voce.
"Better take your seat," Alyssa Milano urged, patting the one next to her. "Teacher's almost here." She and the other students - Katie, Gwyneth, Natalie, Drew Barrymore, Beyonce Knowles, Cat Deeley, Shakira, Jessica Alba and Sheryl Crow ("Don't you think some of us are too old to pass for students?" Sheryl, the oldest participant in this fantasy and one of Cindy, Inc.'s older ladies, asked. "Remember 'Beverly Hills 90210'? Cindy replied. "The one who played Andrea was nearly 30 in real life when the show started!") - settled down as Miss Crawford entered to enact the chosen fantasy from the many that had been submitted by post or via the Cindy Inc. website.
"Good morning, class!" Cindy said briskly.
"Good morning, Miss Crawford!" chorused the class except Drew, who couldn't resist saying "Good morning, Charlie!"
"I thought I said no plugs for 'Charlie's Angels 2,'" Cindy mock-chastised Drew. "Now, did you bring your class project, Britney?"
"Uhhh..." Britney hesitated. "I've got it at home but I just forgot to bring it; I swear I'll have it here by lunch - "
"Sorry, Britney; but you know what the penalty is for undelivered assignments in my class... of course, if you want to demonstrate it here right now..."
Britney nodded, and skipped to the front of the class.
"Learn to act, why don't you?" Gwyneth muttered.
"Ease up on her, huh?" pleaded Jessica.
"My report," Britney started as she faced the others, "is on the importance of... of a good sex life."
"Don't you mean human relations?"
"Uh - uh, yeah, that's what I meant. I think everyone should be getting some regularly if they want to be well-adjusted and all..." Britney was flustered.
"Perhaps you'd like to demonstrate? Actions speak louder than words," Cindy suggested kindly.
"Well, okay," Britney replied. "But I didn't bring anything with me."
"We've got everything we need right here," Sheryl assured her, and without waiting for Cindy to give her a by-your-leave she got up.
"Wait a minute," Cindy told her. "Im my class we do things in alphabetical order. You'll get your turn... Jessica, you first."
The sultry young actress had been sitting at the top of the class specially for this moment. "What do you want me to do, Miss Crawford?" Jessica asked.
"Anything you think she'd like."
"Since I didn't bring any chocolate with me," Jessica sighed, "I guess I'll just have to..." and she brought her full, luscious lips directly onto Britney's. Several of the customers had dreamt about this, but seeing Jessica Alba actually French-kissing Britney Spears while Cindy Crawford watched tenderly drove some of them to come on the spot. Alyssa Milano cursed her being so low-placed on the alphabet; she was DRIPPING down there.
Jessica was seriously considering feeling up Britney along with the kisses, and she practically had her on the table when she felt hands pulling her away. "Not so fast, Jessica..." Cindy admonished. "You'll get your chance later - Drew, your turn. Only kisses... Britney wants a man to pop her."
Drew threw herself into her smooching of Britney with great enthusiasm; she was even less of a stranger to girl-girl stuff than the others. Britney rubbed Drew's back in return, enjoying feeling her arms around her. She also felt hands fondling her full, ripe bubble butt, digging into the back of her jeans, fingering her snatch...
"SHERYL CROW!" Cindy shouted. "I thought I told you all to wait!"
"But teach," Sheryl protested, "she wants us to do it! Look at her face - I always knew she was a little tart..."
"Okay; Britney, it's time to go. Sheryl, if you want to feel an ass, go for..." Cindy scanned the class. "...Cat's."
Cat Deeley looked shocked. "How come?"
"Why shouldn't a bird get to eat a cat for once?" Cindy joked. "The rest of you pair off and give each other a little... um... 'happy,' I think is the term Xander used." "Who's this Xander?" Shakira asked.
"Don't you get 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' in Colombia?" Beyonce told her. "Settle down honey, I'll tell you all about it," and she began to unzip Shakira's jeans, as Gwyneth and Natalie started to finger each other, Drew settled down alongside Katie to swap stories about Kevin Williamson while fondling their legs, and Alyssa and Jessica set up a "Charmed"/"Dark Angel" crossover...
* * * * * * * * * *
"Okay, so are we all ready for the draw?" Cindy shouted to the massed guys waiting to plunge their meat into the oven between Britney's legs, as Miss Spears held the hat into which each customer had put their name. "Don't keep them waiting, BJ..."
"You tell her, Bear!" shouted one of Britney's older fans.
"Good call!" Cindy replied, as Britney (who, let us not forget, was born the year "B.J. And The Bear" was cancelled) tried to hide her momentary confusion. Quickly shrugging it off, she dipped her hand in the hat.
Up in the Plaza Suite, the last minute checks were being made. It was a large, plush place, almost like the bedroom of a fairytale princess. The last place you'd expect events like, say, a gang-bang featuring four millionaires' sons and various hot ladies from WB shows (those who weren't signed by Jennifer Lopez, that is) to take place. The cleaning staff had been very good at removing all traces of that party.
"Nothing here," the chief of security noted, the last person to leave. "Let's move it on out..."
The door closed quietly behind them, the camera the chief of security had carefully placed in there waiting to record all the action.
Downstairs, the audience was trying hard to resist the temptation to go onstage and join in the fun. It was hard to know where to look; Sheryl Crow becoming the first woman to have a munch on Cat Deeley while she in turn did the honours to Alyssa Milano, Natalie Portman and Gwyneth Paltrow taking turn paddling Jessica Alba's butt, Beyonce on her knees behind Shakira while Katie Holmes was kneeling in front of her with their tongues in Miss Ripoll's respective orifices, or Drew... hang on, where WAS she?
"Uh-huh... uh-huh... okay, I'll tell them." She dropped the mobile phone on which she'd been talking to Cindy and faced the crowd.
"Folks, that was the boss lady - for tonight only, she's agreed to let the audience take part in the show..." She got no further as the crowd swarmed onto the stage.
Britney finished drawing the five names. "And the lucky guys are... Lance Bass, J.C. Chasez, Joey Fatone, Chris Kirkpatrick and Hugh Grant!"
A knowing laugh went through the crowd as she shook her head. "Just playin', people - they're..." She named four regular customers and one well-known actor, one of the many male celebs there under anonymity. (Author's note: Use your imagination...) With more than a few jealous glares, Britney shrugged. "Sorry for the others, but maybe next time... and if you go down to Cindy's Boudoir she's got a little surprise for you! Hang tight..."
The crowd made their way to the area where Cindy took care of those customers who specifically wanted a piece of Cindy Crawford - the only area in the large house more plush than the Plaza Suite, there was also a large closed-circuit TV. There already was a camera in there, but this was in addition to the several that were directly linked to this special set - for one night only. Britney would indeed be fucking live, but only for the benefit of the customers in that room. And NO video cameras would be recording it.
Except for the tiny one that the chief had slipped into the Plaza Suite.
As they watched, Britney and the five guys who would be taking turns with her entered the plush room. Cindy would be observing, as excited as the others; she had always had a secret love of watching, but she rarely did it with her own ladies. But getting to see Britney Spears getting poked was too good a chance to miss.
The side show below was getting out of hand. Shakira could feel her ass glowing as one guy after another pounded it, and her breasts, small and humble though they may have been, were slimy with all the come that was being sprayed on them. In fact, none of the ladies there escaped cream. She threw a glance at a blissfully happy-looking Beyonce - for someone who was supposedly God-fearing she looked awfully happy to be plugged up tight; she had two cocks in her mouth and was working them as if she was in line for a bonus, she had another two plunged deep inside her snatch, and did she have THREE up her voluptuous ass? How the hell was she going to walk?
Gwyneth Paltrow, like Martin Scorsese, was being screwed by the Oscars. In her case literally - she had liberally smeared Crisco all over some miniature statuettes and was demonstrating to a fan of hers how far she could stick one inside her. Much looser than she ever was on screen, the audience whooped as the Oscar slowly slid inside Gwyneth's cute little behind.
Cat Deeley was on her hands and knees, crawling from one person to the next. She only had one thing on her mind, and that thing was cock. She relived the past few moments when she had practically shoved Natalie Portman aside to get her head around a particularly plump one; now she was tasting a fresh dick, enjoying how cut it was (she loved the feel of unprotected cock on her tongue). Cat slurped away, waiting for the cream.
Sheryl Crow and Drew Barrymore were wrapped in each other's arms. Each was fast asleep; they had made each other come time and again, and had somehow managed to tune out all the racket around them. Sheryl had her fingers snugly fitted inside Drew's pussy, while the most famous living Barrymore was clutching Miss Crow's tight butt. As they slumbered, a customer was slowly pushing himself into Drew's soft ass, while Sheryl's long legs were being slowly stroked by Katie Holmes. She finally began to appreciate what the Beach Boys sang about wishing they could all be California girls. Katie took one of Sheryl's feet in her hands, and wriggling upwards began to put it inside her cunt.
Jessica Alba had several guys circled all around her; she was as naked as the men, and laughing as they had their erect cocks aimed at her. It wasn't the size of their penises that was making her crack up; as she jerked around on the ground, playing with her rack and twisting around to let them see her pussy and buns in turn, she was playing a game. Each man was wanking furiously over her, little gobs of come splatting onto her olive body everywhere, but they were all aiming for her open mouth. Her heavenly face had enough "milk" running down it to make for one amazing "Got milk?" poster, but few had been precise enough to land in her mouth. "Come on, people!" she laughed. "Get two in and you get me for the night..." She then received a shot right into her mouth and almost down her throat.
Alyssa Milano and Natalie Portman were tied together, nothing between them but a baguette carefully inserted into the actresses' cunts. They were being watched by a group, seeing the two struggling against the bonds; but whenever Alyssa tugged she drew Natalie closer and thrust the bread deeper inside the fictional Senator Amidala, and vice versa. Each had stolen a little kiss from the other as they tried to escape - "Boy, I wish I was David Blaine right now," Natalie muttered, not realising this would involve her standing on pillars for hours and being very boring indeed in interviews.
Natalie pulled too hard, and suddenly she and Alyssa were together - the bread would be totally softened by their snatch oils. "Kiss! Kiss! KISS! KISS!"
"Will you let us out if we do?" Alyssa begged, although she didn't mind feeling Natalie next to her.
Not waiting for an answer, she proceeded to teach Hayden Christensen a thing or 12 about enacting convincing love scenes with Natalie Portman...
Except for Cindy Crawford, no one in the Plaza Suite could keep their hands out of their trousers as they watched Britney Spears fellate each guy on screen in turn. Cindy had her hands inside her dress, stroking her thighs and her slot. If Britney really was a virgin, she had natural talent; if she wasn't, she sure could act.
"Oh baby..." Britney rasped as she blew the last of the five, all of whom had blown loads inside her mouth. But as they watched her rippling body sidling around on the bed and felt her fondling each guy, they were soon stiff and ready again. Numbers three and four were soon sinking their teeth into her beautiful bubble butt, while number five somehow squeezed in between, grabbed her sides and became the first man to know how the pussy of Britney Jean Spears felt.
"AAAAHHHHHH!!!!" she cried through the mouthful of cock, but even feeling his slightly painful pumping couldn't stop her sucking. She wailed again as number two started to core her butthole at the same time. And now she was feeling someone else licking her swaying tits. It was the guy she'd sucked just now.
Cindy's own gasps were blending with Britney's; this beat Pammie Anderson's sex tape all to hell (not to mention the live reenactments Pamela occasionally did at J-Lo's).
She started jerking around in her chair, her arms moving in and out of her dress faster, her fingers playing "Flight of the Bumblebee" and using her pussy as a piano. And all the time she was fixing her eyes on the show Britney was putting on.
Britney was bucking with the thrusts of the men behind her, as the man in front of her lifted her upper half as far as he could and began to pull on his cock above her raised tits. It took about four or five thrusts before she felt the warm, moist lotion landing on her mammaries and the guys' hot breath and lips. Behind her, kisses landed on the areas where the love bites were, and all the while three cocks were still working her. "Aaahhh.... OHHH FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUUCCCKKK!!!!" she screamed as the first prick fulfilled its mission, decorating the inside of her asshole.
The attention of the audience was divided between the show on screen and Cindy's own showcase. Her head was thrown back, her long legs were kicking wildly and her hands were furiously pumping her box. "DO IT BRITNEY HONEY!!!!" Cindy howled as she masturbated, apparently unaware of the others.
Britney begged the other guys not to stop, damn it to hell feeling them filling up all her holes felt great...
The chief of security was watching the festivities on her own closed-circuit TV in his office; the orgy in the main area, Britney's gangbang, Cindy's self-abuse... there was just one thing that could make it even better. She watched Cindy totter to her feet, withdraw her hands and smell them (if only he could get a whiff of her cunt-odoured digits), and withdraw from the room.
In the Plaza Suite, Britney was grinding away atop one of them, while the other four were fondling her as if this was one of her music videos. It was very hot in there, and Britney was having the time of her life. She loved feeling hands running all over her trim body, twisting her nipples and prodding her flesh, sqeeuzing all of her as she gyrated, doing her best to get the guy's seed out of his dick and into her. Through her half-shut eyes, she could see one of them coming towards her. But weren't all five of them in action?
"You know, I had a dream that you were coming on to me," Cindy sighed as she stood next to Britney.
"You and several hundred million guys," grunted one of the men between kisses on Britney's stomach.
"So what are you going to do about it?" asked the pop goddess, and got the answer she had expected, as Cindy slowly pushed Britney backwards, prick still thrusting inside her, and positioned herself on her face. Britney threw herself into Cindy Crawford's pussy as if she had never had one before, figuring if she was going to try muff better Cindy's than Christina's...
Down below, the ever-popular circle munch was in play. Like a hotter version of the Saban logo (which, for those who don't know, features a circle of young girls), the ten women participating were eating each other from oldest to youngest - Sheryl slurped on Alyssa, Alyssa ate Gwyneth, Gwyneth gobbled Drew, Drew dived into Cat, Cat cunnilinguised Shakira, Shakira sampled Katie, Katie... um... knew Jessica, Jessica jollied Natalie, Natalie navigated Beyonce, and Beyonce burrowed into Sheryl. The living circle of writhing, naked flesh was strictly hands off to the customers.
In the Plaza Suite, the favoured five were enjoying an extra treat as Britney, now free of penises, clutched Cindy as she enjoyed a woman for the first time. She could feel the taste of Cindy's privates hanging around in her mouth, and she wondered if she could negotiate an extension of her deal... Nah. Momma would never approve her hanging around here - it had been enough trouble to get her to agree to one night.
As the chief of security watched Cindy run her tongue over Britney's gleaming breasts, she nodded with satisfaction. It was fun watching this; it was always fun to watch at Cindy Inc... but if she did let the stuff out it wouldn't be fun any longer. She had seen lots of stuff go on in here, and did she really have the right to blow it all for a story in the tabloids? Money, money, money....
On the screen, Britney was on all fours on the bed, and Cindy was kneeling behind her, hands resting on Britney's golden globes while she tongued her. Cindy in turn was receiving attention from two of the five men, while two of the others were working on Britney as well. The fifth had managed to get himself into position and was joining Cindy in munching on Britney.
The chief dialled a number. She didn't want to share this night with anyone; hang the papers. If they wanted dirt on Britney they could get it from someplace else; this was a good job she had and damned if she'd screw it up.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Hello? Ramsey here. When they're through in here I'm going to wipe out the tapes... deal's off." No more words, no more discussion; she hung up.
Lynne Spears studied the phone for a long moment. She really thought she could have put her increasingly skanky daughter in her place this time. Still, she still had her sister to play with.
"There's no way YOU'RE going to turn out like her," she said to herself. "No way at all..."
* * * * * * * * * *
The floorshow was over when Cindy and Britney entered, both barely able to walk, but both with success in their eyes, and alert enough to say hi to the security chief in passing (the Suite lay on her route). The ladies had retired to their rooms either alone or with company before leaving in the morning.
"You sure I can't talk you into staying on?" Cindy asked.
"Sure," Britney replied.
"Not even a return engagement?"
"Welll....." Britney laughed evilly. "I think we can work somethin' out. But God I'm tired... do you have a place I can lay my head until my driver comes?"
"I always just go home afterwards," Cindy told her as they made their way out. "Maybe you can share a bed with one of the ladies upstairs."
"But they all hate me!" Britney argued.
"Jessica doesn't," Cindy pointed out. "Just go and get some sleep. It'll be all fine in the morning."
Britney snuggled closer to the blankets as she slumbered. She had spent a very busy night; unbeknowst to Cindy, she had traversed the rooms of Cindy Inc. going from one bed to another, mending any bridges she might have burnt unintentionally. She had finally ended up in bed with Cat, and though she had succumbed to sleep the MTV presenter hadn't.
As she stroked Britney's blonde head, Cat thought to herself that this wasn't quite the exclusive she had planned, but what the hell; they had had quite a pillow talk, in which Cat had become the first media personality to discover that Britney Spears would in fact be appearing at Cindy Inc. on a semi-permanent basis.
And why not? As the girl herself would shortly be telling a grateful Cindy Crawford, "I was born to make you happy."
* * * * * * * * * *
Blinking as the sun's rays hit her eyes, Cindy felt the cool grass on her cheek.
Slowly she drew herself into awake mode, and looked around. She was just outside a canefield, it was early morning, and she was alone. SHIT! So she hadn't made it -
Cindy's relief rushed out in a gasp as she saw her companion was next to her, still out cold. She looked at her watch; through the light she could make out it was 6:30. They only had 90 minutes to get there. And they still had to get to Kelly Brook...
"Wake up," she muttered as she grabbed her companion by the shoulders and shook her. No response.
"Dammit, come ON!" she shouted as she slapped her. "I can't do this without you! We have got to get out of here NOW, Lopez!"