davesmistress
09-30-2008, 08:51 PM
This story is dedicated to the memory of Cindy's friend and finest photographer, the great Herb Ritts - 1952-2002.
* * * * * * * * * *
The continuing adventures of Cindy Crawford - supermodel, mother and celebrity bordello owner. The content of this story is fictional, doesn't represent the actual conduct of anyone involved, and is not intended for under-18s. All comments on the message board or to cindylover1969@yahoo.co.uk
* * * * * * * * * *
Tonight was a great time to be Rande Gerber, even more so than usual; he was watching Cindy in a threesome. While most men dream of watching women having sex, he got to do so nearly every night he wanted, which was why he was careful to do so only on special occasions. And tonight was more special than usual.
Cindy, Nicole Kidman and Gwyneth Paltrow seemed to be in a contest to see who could come the loudest; though Nicole's yells as Cindy lavished her anus with her tongue were impressive, almost as loud as La Crawford's earlier screams as the Oscar-nominee and the Oscar-winner had done her, it was the most demure of the three (Gwyneth) whose lungs got the biggest workout as Nicole went down on her. Rande's face had an even smugger grin than it usually did as he watched and pumped his prick.
"Well, you can't say you didn't get your money's worth," Mariah Carey told the other spectators.
Rachel Stevens, Jo O'Meara, Tina Barrett and Hannah Spearitt were too absorbed to do more than nod.
"So are we all set for the big night?" Mariah continued as she switched the set off, breaking the spell of the video of Cindy's private party.
"Uhhh... yeah," Jo mumbled, the sight of Cindy Crawford eating Nicole Kidman's ass staying in her mind.
"And remember, you can't back out now," Mariah continued. "Cindy did her bit, you have to do yours. See you in London..."
* * * * * * * * * *
Like many Americans, Cindy liked to do Europe (and Europe frequently returned the favour, especially in Italy and France). But tonight, as her own grand tour came to an end, she had other motives on her mind besides touristy ones.
For a while now, she had been looking into the possibility of opening one or two international branches; there was an astonishing supply of what one of Rande's coarser associates called "Continental cunt" out there. But it wasn't until after a remarkably busy night she had had in Rome that she seriously put the wheels in motion to launch Cindy SRL - Anna Falchi, Elisabetta Canalis and Monica Bellucci had been the first to sign up and weren't the last; Monica in particular had been so enthusiastic that she attended the subsequent debut of the French outlet, only to sneak off within ten minutes of Cindy S.A.'s launch (Virginie Ledoyen, Ophelie Winter, Audrey Tautou and Clare Morgane had been among the first in Paris). Coincidentally, Laetitia Casta had also gone off around that time...
Now, as Cindy finished her tour of the Leicester Square building that would house the London branch, she felt a great sense of satisfaction and anticipation. She had declined to make it a McDonald's-type building - each brothel looked different, along with the ladies to be found there. Admittedly Cindy wasn't too sure who some of the women were (Holly Valance? Gabrielle Richens? Amanda Holden?), but her UK advisors were trustworthy. Nonetheless, they had been relieved when Cindy had told them that some of her US-based women would be joining her at the big launch. The first of said imports who would be rubbing shoulders and other body parts along the likes of the aforementioned Miss Holden and Susie Amy from "Footballers' Wives" - apart from Cindy, obviously - was already in the UK, and would be taking time out from filming "Ted And Sylvia" to be there that night.
"I suppose I'll be working that night as well," Gwyneth Paltrow sighed.
"We all will, Gwynnie," Cindy assured her as they had some drinks in her suite. "The first night of a new branch we're all on duty. It couldn't be rougher than the Munich opening... and they say Germans don't have passion." She still felt a bit sore inside from the big night.
"Yes, but I'm so tired of people asking me if I've started to like British men! I feel like getting a note tattooed on my forehead - 'For the last time I LIKE BRITISH MEN!'" Gwyneth mock-screamed. "I don't know why you couldn't get Liv here instead of me - the UK press never gives her a hard time about it..."
"Because Liv's too busy," Cindy told her patiently. "Plus, the guy she's with doesn't approve, especially after that business in Barbados. Liv's not going to quit; she just has to put his mind at rest."
"My mind would be at rest if those idiotic 3 a.m. girls would leave us alone," Gwyneth grumbled.
Cindy nodded...
* * * * * * * * * *
Natalie Portman felt sorely tempted to unplug her phone. Like Cindy, Gwyneth and Jennifer Aniston - who was also going to be along on the opening night - she had been inundated with calls from reporters asking who was likely to show up. No, Catherine Zeta-Jones wasn't going to be there [because she was on J-Lo's books]; no, Elizabeth Hurley wasn't going to be there [because she had taken time off from Cindy Inc. to look after her kid]; no, none of the cast from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" or "Sex and the City" were going to be there [because filming got in the way of the ladies of the former, and because J-Lo had signed up all of the latter]; no, Jade from "Big Brother" wasn't going to be there - "Cindy Inc works with CELEBRITIES," Natalie had pointed out to the one who had made that last suggestion.
She glared at the phone's cradle, wishing that it was tomorrow night, when it would be all over and done with. The next person who called her would wish she or he hadn't... no, better deal with them quickly and politely. Or just get an answering machine for the duration of her stay. Yes, that was it... the warmth of human contact had to be sacrificed for her own peace of mind.
And as she thought that, the phone rang again. Sighing, Natalie picked it up, and tried to communicate all manner of weariness in her "Hello?"
Nothing.
"Hello? Who IS this?"
Still nothing. Natalie almost wished it had been a journalist.
"Look, is this you again?"
A dial tone. It was him again. This time Natalie DID wish it had been a journalist...
One of the hazards of working for Cindy Inc. (and J-Lo's) was that not all of the customers were pussycats, even the ones who were repeat visitors. The last time Natalie had been on duty, she had done two or three jobs; two had been with repeaters, but the third one had been a first timer. All the while he screwed her he had called her Matilda, while he insisted she call him Leon. Bewildered but figuring the customer was always right, Natalie had played along, heightening her voice to what it had been when she made "The Professional," and living out his fantasy of the hitman seducing the little girl. She had felt physically sick afterwards, but he had never returned, and she was grateful for that.
The following week, she had started getting messages from him. Passionate ones, thanking her for that night, and for all the other nights she had pleased him. They were letters at first, but then he had begun phoning her. The police and Cindy's own people had been keeping a close eye on the affair, but he'd kept his tracks covered - never leaving his name, never dropping any hints as to what (apart from Miss Portman) he wanted. And now he'd even managed to track her down in London...
Natalie wondered if she should tell Cindy. No - he hadn't done anything to harm her yet. Best to ignore him again. It wasn't like he'd actually followed her across the ocean.
Or so she thought.
* * * * * * * * * *
"I'm sorry I can't come onto your staff," Lorraine Kelly said apologetically, "but it's not really my cup of tea..."
"No one's forcing you," Cindy assured the Scottish presenter. "But what about the others?"
"Oh, she's up for it, no doubt," laughed Lorraine. "She's waiting for you in her dressing room. She's never met you before, has she?"
"No," Cindy replied as they got up. "Is she nervous?"
"Are you?"
"Yes," Cindy admitted with a wry smile. "It's always a bit weird meeting new recruits for the first time. Especially with such a tiny time window."
"Don't worry about it," Lorraine assured her. "Think about it as being here really early for my interview." She squeezed Cindy's hand reassuringly as they arrived. "You'll be fine."
Cindy stepped into Penny Smith's dressing room as Miss Kelly departed. On the TV in the room she could see the blonde, 40s-ish presenter doing her first piece on screen; she still had time to settle down. Even though this was one of several breaking-ins going on around the city (Gwyneth Paltrow was finalizing business with Sophie Anderton and her new boyfriend, the newly-arrived Jennifer Aniston and Cameron Diaz were supervising the female members of Liberty X, Elle Macpherson was working on Holly Valance, and when Elisha Cuthbert arrived she would see to Kirsty Gallacher - Cameron was a real coup considering that she almost never did British press for her movies), this was more of a pressure than the others, because it was HER ass on the line. Literally.
Cindy felt two hands on said ass, fondling it slowly.
"I've always wondered what a supermodel's bottom feels like," Penny Smith said. "Not bad."
"You really want this job, don't you?" Cindy replied, turning to look at her.
"Where did you get that idea?" Penny told her, giving her a teasing look. "Now, what are we going to do? As if I couldn't guess."
"Actually, it's what I'm going to do," Cindy told her. "Let me see your legs."
Penny lifted her red dress up, giving Cindy a view of her pins. They were lovely - and topped with a pair of silky red panties that set off the skin perfectly. Cindy nodded approvingly. "No wonder there's a group about them."
"There is?" the presenter said in surprise.
"Mm-hm. Don't you ever go online?"
"Not if I can help it," Penny admitted, letting the dress drop.
"Well, you and I are going to give them something cappers would die for..."
* * * * * * * * * *
Penny was as calm and collected as ever come the 7:00 news, telling the morning viewers of GMTV all the bad stuff they were waking up to.
No one could see that under the desk, she wasn't wearing anything except for Cindy Crawford. Cindy was slowly tasting Penny's plump blonde snatch; she kept an ear out for any indication that Penny was letting on what was happening. Cindy pinched the inside of the presenter's thighs and pushed her tongue up further inside the slit; very nice and moist.
Fondling Penny's tender legs, Cindy gently nipped her little button, enjoying the slight jump in Penny's voice as she did. With the camera off her for a second, Miss Smith adjusted her position enough for the supermodel to run her hands under her. "You felt my ass, time to return the favour," Cindy whispered.
Penny's bottom was beautiful; big and soft, Cindy enjoyed stroking and squeezing it. She started to slip her right middle finger deep inside Penny's ass, working it inside and widening the hole, all the while supping away at her cunt. This woman was good to fuck, and even better with her controlling. Only Cindy knew that Penny was getting damper and damper as she got to the sports news.
"It's 7:03, back at 7:30. Now over to Fiona..." And Penny, the cameras safely off, looked down under her desk at the gorgeous American brunette between her legs; her mouth was wet with Miss Smith as she looked up. Cindy gave her the thumbs up.
"Go for it," the cameraman (who, like the other GMTV staffers, was sworn to secrecy) said. Penny slipped off her chair and joined Cindy in the cramped space, which meant they were closer together. And loving it.
"Why didn't you ask Fiona Phillips?" Penny asked as she kissed Cindy's neck.
"Because nobody wants to fuck her," Cindy pointed out.
Penny couldn't argue with that...
* * * * * * * * * *
Fiona Phillips did come a lot lower on the fuckability scale than Eleanor Gow. Or as she's better known, Elle Macpherson.
The Body was currently riding The Partner in her London flat - Arpad Busson was already the father of her two children, but he didn't mind going for a third. The morning light reflected off the tall, naked Australian, making her look like some kind of an angel as she bounced up and down on his groin, whooping and hollering as she ground her fantastic form and dug her fingers into his chest hair, her endless legs spurring him on and his hands rapidly rubbing her.
Over the years, Elle's pussy had been entered more times than the Statue of Liberty; Arpad's cock wasn't the best she'd ever had, but it had been the only one she'd let leave anything lasting inside her. Besides, it certainly felt good sticking up inside her now... Elle was looking forward to entering the Naughty Forty stage of her life, especially if she could persuade a few of the waiters they'd hired at the London branch to join her after work.
Behind her, she felt a slow kiss. Holly Valance was ready to join in; Arpad had watched the two of them in action earlier, and now she was going to play along. Arpad's gasps were muffled as the "Neighbours" graduate (one of several who'd been signed on) eagerly lowered herself onto his face; the resentment at not being able to see Elle's gorgeous-even-after-two-kids tits was gone with the sight of Holly's slot.
Still working on Arpad's cock, Elle felt it get slightly longer and harder inside her as she ran her hands from his chest onto Holly's buttocks. She had a feeling the taste of the latter's cunt had something to do with it, but... Elle extended her arms and started to stroke Miss Valance's boobs as she felt her husband start to give in. She loved the feel of his cum splashing and spurting into her, filling her up deep within. But most of all, she loved the fact that much as he enjoyed fucking tender young girls, deep down he wanted to stay with her.
Arpad, deep in his mouthing of lovely young Holly (who was loudly declaring how much she loved Elle), was wondering how to tell Elle this would be the last time. Half an hour later, he would.
* * * * * * * * * *
"He wants you to what?" Cindy repeated slowly.
Elle flopped down on the sofa in Cindy's suite wearily. "He wants me to QUIT, Cindy. He doesn't like the idea of sharing me with other men."
"And he told you this after he ate out Flick?" Liberty X's Michelle Heaton asked in disbelief. "Flick is the girl Holly used to play on 'Neighbours,'" she added for the benefit of Cindy.
"I suppose that is sort of like Dannii Minogue saying Christina Aguilera has falsies," Elle agreed. "But that was off duty, a private threesome."
"You were breaking her in. That's never off duty," Cindy pointed out. "Of course, if you'd invited her over on your own time that would be another thing."
"Think you could?" Amanda Holden asked hopefully. "And do you think I could watch?"
"Well, actually I did have her and Nicole Kidman on Bondi Beach once," Elle replied, smiling at the memory. "It was late one afternoon and we - "
Elle's trip down memory lane was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Reporters?" Michelle asked, as Cindy got up to answer it.
Peering through the peephole, Cindy shook her head and mouthed "Three A.M."
Michelle nodded. They weren't reporters - they were the 3 A.M. girls. The trio of gossip reporters in the "Mirror" who were notorious for their staggeringly high opinions of themselves even by showbiz writer standards. Who, as Chris Moyles on Radio 1 once suggested, probably got the title after the time they put their makeup on. Who had almost as much journalistic credibility as typesetters. Who were the Trinny and Susannah of the gossip world in that they were expert at dishing it out but crap at taking it. And who were outside Cindy's hotel suite now.
"I'll meet you all downstairs in ten minutes," Cindy called resignedly.
"Oh, can't we come in?" demanded the blonde 3AM Girl (this author refuses to dignify the hags by giving them names).
"But then you'd know who else is coming, and it's a secret," Cindy pointed out, drawing a zipper over her mouth - all the women in there kept silent.
"Just come into the hallway, and we won't keep you long."
Cindy sighed, and joined the girls in the hallway, all with expectant looks on their faces.
"So - who's on the list?" asked the black 3AM Girl.
"You know, I could have sworn I told you I wasn't saying."
"You know, there are three women you've overlooked," chuckled the blonde 3AM Girl.
"I don't think so," Cindy replied, before realising what she was saying. "You don't mean..."
The trio nodded and pointed to themselves. "You let us join, we don't make it very, very hard for your whorehouse. We've got a lot of influence in this town."
"Don't you mean the people whose articles you steal from have a lot of influence in this town?" Cindy asked.
"Oh, you're going to pay for that, dearie," said the other 3AM girl. "There are men who'd die to have sex with us."
("You mean die rather than have sex with you," Amanda said sotto voce behind the door.)
"Of course, all you have to do is let us on board and it'll be plain sailing," the black 3AM girl grinned. "Think it over, Crawfie." And the trio sauntered off with what they thought were sexy wiggles.
Cindy, who didn't need to try to wiggle seductively, shook her head and went back inside. Losing Elle, gaining the Three Annoying Mingers... well, at least the day couldn't get any worse, she thought as the phone rang.
Gwyneth, now back from Sophie's place, got to answer it. "Hello?... Uh-huh... You're sure? Okay, I'll tell her..."
"Tell me what?" Cindy asked as the tall blonde hung up.
"That was Elisha, calling from the airport."
"When did she get in?" Cindy asked, relieved.
"I didn't say which airport," Gwyneth said. "She was calling from LaGuardia. Her plane's been cancelled - she's stuck in New York."
Cindy reminded herself to NEVER say things couldn't get any worse.
* * * * * * * * * *
The continuing adventures of Cindy Crawford - supermodel, mother and celebrity bordello owner. The content of this story is fictional, doesn't represent the actual conduct of anyone involved, and is not intended for under-18s. All comments on the message board or to cindylover1969@yahoo.co.uk
* * * * * * * * * *
Tonight was a great time to be Rande Gerber, even more so than usual; he was watching Cindy in a threesome. While most men dream of watching women having sex, he got to do so nearly every night he wanted, which was why he was careful to do so only on special occasions. And tonight was more special than usual.
Cindy, Nicole Kidman and Gwyneth Paltrow seemed to be in a contest to see who could come the loudest; though Nicole's yells as Cindy lavished her anus with her tongue were impressive, almost as loud as La Crawford's earlier screams as the Oscar-nominee and the Oscar-winner had done her, it was the most demure of the three (Gwyneth) whose lungs got the biggest workout as Nicole went down on her. Rande's face had an even smugger grin than it usually did as he watched and pumped his prick.
"Well, you can't say you didn't get your money's worth," Mariah Carey told the other spectators.
Rachel Stevens, Jo O'Meara, Tina Barrett and Hannah Spearitt were too absorbed to do more than nod.
"So are we all set for the big night?" Mariah continued as she switched the set off, breaking the spell of the video of Cindy's private party.
"Uhhh... yeah," Jo mumbled, the sight of Cindy Crawford eating Nicole Kidman's ass staying in her mind.
"And remember, you can't back out now," Mariah continued. "Cindy did her bit, you have to do yours. See you in London..."
* * * * * * * * * *
Like many Americans, Cindy liked to do Europe (and Europe frequently returned the favour, especially in Italy and France). But tonight, as her own grand tour came to an end, she had other motives on her mind besides touristy ones.
For a while now, she had been looking into the possibility of opening one or two international branches; there was an astonishing supply of what one of Rande's coarser associates called "Continental cunt" out there. But it wasn't until after a remarkably busy night she had had in Rome that she seriously put the wheels in motion to launch Cindy SRL - Anna Falchi, Elisabetta Canalis and Monica Bellucci had been the first to sign up and weren't the last; Monica in particular had been so enthusiastic that she attended the subsequent debut of the French outlet, only to sneak off within ten minutes of Cindy S.A.'s launch (Virginie Ledoyen, Ophelie Winter, Audrey Tautou and Clare Morgane had been among the first in Paris). Coincidentally, Laetitia Casta had also gone off around that time...
Now, as Cindy finished her tour of the Leicester Square building that would house the London branch, she felt a great sense of satisfaction and anticipation. She had declined to make it a McDonald's-type building - each brothel looked different, along with the ladies to be found there. Admittedly Cindy wasn't too sure who some of the women were (Holly Valance? Gabrielle Richens? Amanda Holden?), but her UK advisors were trustworthy. Nonetheless, they had been relieved when Cindy had told them that some of her US-based women would be joining her at the big launch. The first of said imports who would be rubbing shoulders and other body parts along the likes of the aforementioned Miss Holden and Susie Amy from "Footballers' Wives" - apart from Cindy, obviously - was already in the UK, and would be taking time out from filming "Ted And Sylvia" to be there that night.
"I suppose I'll be working that night as well," Gwyneth Paltrow sighed.
"We all will, Gwynnie," Cindy assured her as they had some drinks in her suite. "The first night of a new branch we're all on duty. It couldn't be rougher than the Munich opening... and they say Germans don't have passion." She still felt a bit sore inside from the big night.
"Yes, but I'm so tired of people asking me if I've started to like British men! I feel like getting a note tattooed on my forehead - 'For the last time I LIKE BRITISH MEN!'" Gwyneth mock-screamed. "I don't know why you couldn't get Liv here instead of me - the UK press never gives her a hard time about it..."
"Because Liv's too busy," Cindy told her patiently. "Plus, the guy she's with doesn't approve, especially after that business in Barbados. Liv's not going to quit; she just has to put his mind at rest."
"My mind would be at rest if those idiotic 3 a.m. girls would leave us alone," Gwyneth grumbled.
Cindy nodded...
* * * * * * * * * *
Natalie Portman felt sorely tempted to unplug her phone. Like Cindy, Gwyneth and Jennifer Aniston - who was also going to be along on the opening night - she had been inundated with calls from reporters asking who was likely to show up. No, Catherine Zeta-Jones wasn't going to be there [because she was on J-Lo's books]; no, Elizabeth Hurley wasn't going to be there [because she had taken time off from Cindy Inc. to look after her kid]; no, none of the cast from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" or "Sex and the City" were going to be there [because filming got in the way of the ladies of the former, and because J-Lo had signed up all of the latter]; no, Jade from "Big Brother" wasn't going to be there - "Cindy Inc works with CELEBRITIES," Natalie had pointed out to the one who had made that last suggestion.
She glared at the phone's cradle, wishing that it was tomorrow night, when it would be all over and done with. The next person who called her would wish she or he hadn't... no, better deal with them quickly and politely. Or just get an answering machine for the duration of her stay. Yes, that was it... the warmth of human contact had to be sacrificed for her own peace of mind.
And as she thought that, the phone rang again. Sighing, Natalie picked it up, and tried to communicate all manner of weariness in her "Hello?"
Nothing.
"Hello? Who IS this?"
Still nothing. Natalie almost wished it had been a journalist.
"Look, is this you again?"
A dial tone. It was him again. This time Natalie DID wish it had been a journalist...
One of the hazards of working for Cindy Inc. (and J-Lo's) was that not all of the customers were pussycats, even the ones who were repeat visitors. The last time Natalie had been on duty, she had done two or three jobs; two had been with repeaters, but the third one had been a first timer. All the while he screwed her he had called her Matilda, while he insisted she call him Leon. Bewildered but figuring the customer was always right, Natalie had played along, heightening her voice to what it had been when she made "The Professional," and living out his fantasy of the hitman seducing the little girl. She had felt physically sick afterwards, but he had never returned, and she was grateful for that.
The following week, she had started getting messages from him. Passionate ones, thanking her for that night, and for all the other nights she had pleased him. They were letters at first, but then he had begun phoning her. The police and Cindy's own people had been keeping a close eye on the affair, but he'd kept his tracks covered - never leaving his name, never dropping any hints as to what (apart from Miss Portman) he wanted. And now he'd even managed to track her down in London...
Natalie wondered if she should tell Cindy. No - he hadn't done anything to harm her yet. Best to ignore him again. It wasn't like he'd actually followed her across the ocean.
Or so she thought.
* * * * * * * * * *
"I'm sorry I can't come onto your staff," Lorraine Kelly said apologetically, "but it's not really my cup of tea..."
"No one's forcing you," Cindy assured the Scottish presenter. "But what about the others?"
"Oh, she's up for it, no doubt," laughed Lorraine. "She's waiting for you in her dressing room. She's never met you before, has she?"
"No," Cindy replied as they got up. "Is she nervous?"
"Are you?"
"Yes," Cindy admitted with a wry smile. "It's always a bit weird meeting new recruits for the first time. Especially with such a tiny time window."
"Don't worry about it," Lorraine assured her. "Think about it as being here really early for my interview." She squeezed Cindy's hand reassuringly as they arrived. "You'll be fine."
Cindy stepped into Penny Smith's dressing room as Miss Kelly departed. On the TV in the room she could see the blonde, 40s-ish presenter doing her first piece on screen; she still had time to settle down. Even though this was one of several breaking-ins going on around the city (Gwyneth Paltrow was finalizing business with Sophie Anderton and her new boyfriend, the newly-arrived Jennifer Aniston and Cameron Diaz were supervising the female members of Liberty X, Elle Macpherson was working on Holly Valance, and when Elisha Cuthbert arrived she would see to Kirsty Gallacher - Cameron was a real coup considering that she almost never did British press for her movies), this was more of a pressure than the others, because it was HER ass on the line. Literally.
Cindy felt two hands on said ass, fondling it slowly.
"I've always wondered what a supermodel's bottom feels like," Penny Smith said. "Not bad."
"You really want this job, don't you?" Cindy replied, turning to look at her.
"Where did you get that idea?" Penny told her, giving her a teasing look. "Now, what are we going to do? As if I couldn't guess."
"Actually, it's what I'm going to do," Cindy told her. "Let me see your legs."
Penny lifted her red dress up, giving Cindy a view of her pins. They were lovely - and topped with a pair of silky red panties that set off the skin perfectly. Cindy nodded approvingly. "No wonder there's a group about them."
"There is?" the presenter said in surprise.
"Mm-hm. Don't you ever go online?"
"Not if I can help it," Penny admitted, letting the dress drop.
"Well, you and I are going to give them something cappers would die for..."
* * * * * * * * * *
Penny was as calm and collected as ever come the 7:00 news, telling the morning viewers of GMTV all the bad stuff they were waking up to.
No one could see that under the desk, she wasn't wearing anything except for Cindy Crawford. Cindy was slowly tasting Penny's plump blonde snatch; she kept an ear out for any indication that Penny was letting on what was happening. Cindy pinched the inside of the presenter's thighs and pushed her tongue up further inside the slit; very nice and moist.
Fondling Penny's tender legs, Cindy gently nipped her little button, enjoying the slight jump in Penny's voice as she did. With the camera off her for a second, Miss Smith adjusted her position enough for the supermodel to run her hands under her. "You felt my ass, time to return the favour," Cindy whispered.
Penny's bottom was beautiful; big and soft, Cindy enjoyed stroking and squeezing it. She started to slip her right middle finger deep inside Penny's ass, working it inside and widening the hole, all the while supping away at her cunt. This woman was good to fuck, and even better with her controlling. Only Cindy knew that Penny was getting damper and damper as she got to the sports news.
"It's 7:03, back at 7:30. Now over to Fiona..." And Penny, the cameras safely off, looked down under her desk at the gorgeous American brunette between her legs; her mouth was wet with Miss Smith as she looked up. Cindy gave her the thumbs up.
"Go for it," the cameraman (who, like the other GMTV staffers, was sworn to secrecy) said. Penny slipped off her chair and joined Cindy in the cramped space, which meant they were closer together. And loving it.
"Why didn't you ask Fiona Phillips?" Penny asked as she kissed Cindy's neck.
"Because nobody wants to fuck her," Cindy pointed out.
Penny couldn't argue with that...
* * * * * * * * * *
Fiona Phillips did come a lot lower on the fuckability scale than Eleanor Gow. Or as she's better known, Elle Macpherson.
The Body was currently riding The Partner in her London flat - Arpad Busson was already the father of her two children, but he didn't mind going for a third. The morning light reflected off the tall, naked Australian, making her look like some kind of an angel as she bounced up and down on his groin, whooping and hollering as she ground her fantastic form and dug her fingers into his chest hair, her endless legs spurring him on and his hands rapidly rubbing her.
Over the years, Elle's pussy had been entered more times than the Statue of Liberty; Arpad's cock wasn't the best she'd ever had, but it had been the only one she'd let leave anything lasting inside her. Besides, it certainly felt good sticking up inside her now... Elle was looking forward to entering the Naughty Forty stage of her life, especially if she could persuade a few of the waiters they'd hired at the London branch to join her after work.
Behind her, she felt a slow kiss. Holly Valance was ready to join in; Arpad had watched the two of them in action earlier, and now she was going to play along. Arpad's gasps were muffled as the "Neighbours" graduate (one of several who'd been signed on) eagerly lowered herself onto his face; the resentment at not being able to see Elle's gorgeous-even-after-two-kids tits was gone with the sight of Holly's slot.
Still working on Arpad's cock, Elle felt it get slightly longer and harder inside her as she ran her hands from his chest onto Holly's buttocks. She had a feeling the taste of the latter's cunt had something to do with it, but... Elle extended her arms and started to stroke Miss Valance's boobs as she felt her husband start to give in. She loved the feel of his cum splashing and spurting into her, filling her up deep within. But most of all, she loved the fact that much as he enjoyed fucking tender young girls, deep down he wanted to stay with her.
Arpad, deep in his mouthing of lovely young Holly (who was loudly declaring how much she loved Elle), was wondering how to tell Elle this would be the last time. Half an hour later, he would.
* * * * * * * * * *
"He wants you to what?" Cindy repeated slowly.
Elle flopped down on the sofa in Cindy's suite wearily. "He wants me to QUIT, Cindy. He doesn't like the idea of sharing me with other men."
"And he told you this after he ate out Flick?" Liberty X's Michelle Heaton asked in disbelief. "Flick is the girl Holly used to play on 'Neighbours,'" she added for the benefit of Cindy.
"I suppose that is sort of like Dannii Minogue saying Christina Aguilera has falsies," Elle agreed. "But that was off duty, a private threesome."
"You were breaking her in. That's never off duty," Cindy pointed out. "Of course, if you'd invited her over on your own time that would be another thing."
"Think you could?" Amanda Holden asked hopefully. "And do you think I could watch?"
"Well, actually I did have her and Nicole Kidman on Bondi Beach once," Elle replied, smiling at the memory. "It was late one afternoon and we - "
Elle's trip down memory lane was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Reporters?" Michelle asked, as Cindy got up to answer it.
Peering through the peephole, Cindy shook her head and mouthed "Three A.M."
Michelle nodded. They weren't reporters - they were the 3 A.M. girls. The trio of gossip reporters in the "Mirror" who were notorious for their staggeringly high opinions of themselves even by showbiz writer standards. Who, as Chris Moyles on Radio 1 once suggested, probably got the title after the time they put their makeup on. Who had almost as much journalistic credibility as typesetters. Who were the Trinny and Susannah of the gossip world in that they were expert at dishing it out but crap at taking it. And who were outside Cindy's hotel suite now.
"I'll meet you all downstairs in ten minutes," Cindy called resignedly.
"Oh, can't we come in?" demanded the blonde 3AM Girl (this author refuses to dignify the hags by giving them names).
"But then you'd know who else is coming, and it's a secret," Cindy pointed out, drawing a zipper over her mouth - all the women in there kept silent.
"Just come into the hallway, and we won't keep you long."
Cindy sighed, and joined the girls in the hallway, all with expectant looks on their faces.
"So - who's on the list?" asked the black 3AM Girl.
"You know, I could have sworn I told you I wasn't saying."
"You know, there are three women you've overlooked," chuckled the blonde 3AM Girl.
"I don't think so," Cindy replied, before realising what she was saying. "You don't mean..."
The trio nodded and pointed to themselves. "You let us join, we don't make it very, very hard for your whorehouse. We've got a lot of influence in this town."
"Don't you mean the people whose articles you steal from have a lot of influence in this town?" Cindy asked.
"Oh, you're going to pay for that, dearie," said the other 3AM girl. "There are men who'd die to have sex with us."
("You mean die rather than have sex with you," Amanda said sotto voce behind the door.)
"Of course, all you have to do is let us on board and it'll be plain sailing," the black 3AM girl grinned. "Think it over, Crawfie." And the trio sauntered off with what they thought were sexy wiggles.
Cindy, who didn't need to try to wiggle seductively, shook her head and went back inside. Losing Elle, gaining the Three Annoying Mingers... well, at least the day couldn't get any worse, she thought as the phone rang.
Gwyneth, now back from Sophie's place, got to answer it. "Hello?... Uh-huh... You're sure? Okay, I'll tell her..."
"Tell me what?" Cindy asked as the tall blonde hung up.
"That was Elisha, calling from the airport."
"When did she get in?" Cindy asked, relieved.
"I didn't say which airport," Gwyneth said. "She was calling from LaGuardia. Her plane's been cancelled - she's stuck in New York."
Cindy reminded herself to NEVER say things couldn't get any worse.