davesmistress
09-30-2008, 08:52 PM
The continuing adventures of Cindy Crawford -
supermodel, mother and celebrity bordello owner. The
events in these stories are fictional and not intended
to represent the actual behaviour of the women (and
men) herein. Any comments, praise, complaints,
requests for women to be included go on the message
boards or to cindylover1969@yahoo.co.uk
Gwyneth Paltrow says "Previously on 'Cindy Inc'..."
Cindy Inc has successfully expanded on the Continent
and is about to open in London, but along with the
other problems in the run-up to opening night Natalie
Portman is being plagued by a deranged fan; Gorgeous
Gwyneth is being plagued by her comments on British
men (more of which to come in this chapter); Elle
Macpherson is being plagued by suggestions that she
leave; and worst of all, Cindy Crawford is being
plagued by the 3 AM Girls. Now read on...
(NOTE: S Club have, of course, now broken up. But this
is my story, so at the time it's set they're still
together.)
* * * * * * * * * *
Cindy mentally counted to 20 over and over to keep
from shrieking. It would have been a real boost to
have Elisha Cuthbert come over; "24" had made her a
favourite with guys on both sides of the Atlantic, and
having her come over specifically for Cindy Inc UK
instead of to promote the show would have been one in
the eye for the BBC (whose on-air personalities had
been forbidden for the most part to join up). And now
she was likely to miss the opening...
"Okay," she said calmly. "The second Elisha gets a new
seat call me. We can still go ahead."
"Yeah," Gwyneth agreed, counting them off. "You, me,
Nat, Elle, Nicole, Kate Winslet, Sophie, Amanda,
Holly, Lisa Snowdon, Cammie Diaz, Liberty X, Cat,
Linsey Dawn, the Tylers..."
"Linsey Dawn?" Amanda Holden interrupted, wrinkling
her nose. "You signed up Linsey Dawn McKenzie?"
"A sop to the soft-porn crowd," Cindy explained. "We
did think about getting some Page 3 girls, but..."
"Why not?" Michelle Heaton suggested. "Leilani
Dowding, Nicola McLean, Nikkala Stott... the tabloids
would love you for it."
"Speaking of which, what are you going to do about the
3AMs?" Gwyneth asked.
"Sit here and think for a bit," Cindy replied. "I
really don't want them around here every time I come
over..."
* * * * * * * * * *
Gwyneth sympathised as she settled in the back of her
car. Having those harpies on your back all day was no
way to live.
Having the entire back of a stretch limo was another
matter. She needed the space; she'd taken Sophie
Anderton in this car earlier (she privately dubbed it
the Shagmobile, though she wasn't about to let Chris
in it). The windows were thick, which was just as
well; Sophie was a screamer.
"Still have a problem with us, Miss Paltrow?" asked
the driver cheerily.
"AAARRRRGGGHHH!!!" Gwyneth screamed with part-disgust.
"What is it with that? I thought everyone here had
forgotten by now!"
"We don't forget these things, Miss Paltrow," the
driver said. "I know you didn't actually say it,
but..."
"How long is it until we get there?" Gwyneth asked,
looking at the traffic outside. It wasn't the rush
hour yet, but it was fairly heavy.
"It'll be a while. Command performance, is it?"
"Yep. Not looking forward to it," she admitted. "The
guy's not really my type, but the customer's always
right."
"You know, Miss Paltrow..."
"Mm?"
"Nothing," the driver said, hating himself for not
being able to ask if he could have her services
afterwards, at the same price. "Nothing..."
* * * * * * * * * *
"...and here's our waitress for the evening," said
Lord Dunstable to his family. Entering in a
traditional maid's uniform, only much shorter, Gwyneth
Paltrow looked over at the crowd.
They were all very rich, and very uppercrust. The head
of the family, the Lord in question, was in his
mid-70s and looked it; the youngest person there was
still ten years older than she was. Gwyneth's job was
to serve each person there, and give them an aperitif
of herself.
"Ah, a quiet type are you? That's the trouble with
these damned Yanks, too bloody impressed with the
upper classes to get all brash and loudmouthed. Still,
better than the alternative eh?" he laughed.
Gwyneth curtseyed, and brought each guest their trays,
receiving compliments from a quiet "Thank you" to the
odd pinch and slap ("Not much meat on those bones, is
there? Still, it's quality"). She felt just about
every guest put his (and they were all men) hand up
her dress, lingering on her long thighs and tight
little ass.
"Gwynnie!" called Lord Dunstable when they were all
served. "It's time for you to give out the first
course."
Nodding, Gwyneth approached the head, and then noticed
he had his other head out. He had unzipped his
trousers, and was casually waving his cock for her to
see. Gwyneth studied it - tiny thing, but she knew
better than not to comment.
"And when you're done with that, the others get theirs
as well. Whatever they want..."
Lord Dunstable's oldest son, who was sitting next to
him, rubbed Gwyneth's bottom again. La Paltrow
mentally prepared herself to receive a visitor through
the back door, and bent down to fellate his father.
She felt his wee prick become as stiff and hard as it
probably ever would; she did her best to make it seem
like she was having a good time.
He certainly was: "Good heavens, you've got a good
mouth on you Gwyneth... ummmm, yes, excellent tongue
action... I can't believe someone who sucks cock so
well can't find a man... don't just sit there, son,
give that cock of yours a home."
Gwyneth's eyes widened as Lord Dunstable's son exposed
her rump to the onlookers, spread it, and splotched
something onto the starfish. "Ketchup... " Lord
Dunstable explained between sighs as the beautiful
American blonde kept tasting his prick. "Can't stand
to spit on a woman's anus or anywhere... necessity's
the mother of invention... but you have to serve the
audience... make them all happy..."
The son soon had Gwyneth's bunghole lubed up with
Heinz's best known product, and that was when Gwyneth
had her idea. She knew Cindy would love it; and it
would make up for the uncommon, obscene haste with
which the son jammed his cock into her chute. She felt
the sauce squishing around down there, and his cock
slipping up her rapidly. Gwyneth kept on sucking as he
cored her, listening to his grunts of satisfaction;
she had a small bottom, but it was cute and nice to
touch, and a thin slice of the best steak could be
better than a Big Mac. (And often was.)
Under Gwyneth's seemingly cold exterior lay the heart
of a woman who loved almost anything to do with sex;
exhibitionism, troilism, bondage, you name it she was
up for it. When she felt a second prick go next to the
first in her anus she jumped for joy within - and
when, on completing the blowjob, she looked up to see
two other diners with their cocks aimed at her face,
Gwyneth Paltrow started to spend a lot more than seven
minutes in heaven...
* * * * * * * * * *
"Everybody present and accounted for?" asked Cindy an
hour or two later. "Gwynnie here told me about this
idea she got while she was at the mercy of Lord
Dunstable, and it's not a bad one."
"You've probably received one or two mercy fucks in
your life," Gwyneth started.
"YOU probably have," Natalie Portman countered.
"Anyway," Gwyneth continued, ignoring Miss Portman, "I
was thinking we take the thinking and put a twist on
it. Those men giving it to us think we're charity
cases, so..."
Blank faces at first, then it hit Nicole Kidman first.
"You want us to do it for... charity?"
"All the proceeds for the first 24 hours, anyway,"
Cindy added. "We all work our butts off - and the
first guys we each get have us for free - and hand it
over to something like... Children in Need?"
"Which is where the S Club ladies come in," Gwyneth
went on. "The rumours about that video of me, Nicky
and the boss in action for Rande's birthday were so
strong that when Rachel and the other three were over
last time we had to show it to them in return for them
agreeing to come on board - Tina was really
insistent."
"What about the guys?" Cameron Diaz, whose flight HAD
come, asked. Every other person in the room looked at
her with an "Oh, please" expression on their faces.
Cammie got the message.
"The group's always working for CIN," Cindy went on,
"and they'll go for this in a second."
"Suppose they say no?" Lisa Snowdon asked.
"It'll be legally earned cash," Gwyneth assured them.
"And there's another little plus..."
The 3 AM girls had demanded an answer from Cindy just
before this meeting; Cindy had told them what the deal
was, and assured them that this was an exclusive
story.
"Just for the three of you," she had added. "And it'll
REMAIN an exclusive scoop. Even the American gossip
queens won't have it."
This jacked up the women's egos even further.
"However..."
(Nothing good came after 'However,' the women had
learned.)
"...there IS one catch. We've got some reporters on
board the US branch from E! and "Entertainment
Tonight" and so on, and those ladies of theirs we do
have are on board with the understanding that they
can't report on anything that goes on behind the
scenes or in the bedrooms at Cindy Inc. Ever.
"See, I know your type - if you three girls join
you'll be trying to get the dirt all the time. Jules -
that's Jules Asner - knows the score and she plays
fair, but I'm not sure you do. But we know we have to
keep the columnists sweet, so this is the deal... if
you join us, you can't report. If you report, you
can't join us. It's one or the other."
"But we were supposed to get the cover of 'Vanity
Fair'!" the blonde 3AM Girl had complained. "And the
Yanks went behind our backs..."
"Yes, I can't believed they decided Kirsten Dunst
would sell more copies than three showbiz hacks,"
Cindy had told them with enough sarcasm to sink the
QE2. "Besides, if you did come on board all the other
women would quit... so what do you say?"
"The deal's still open. But I'm sure 'The Sun' would
love to hear about your tactics... and I'm sure Mr.
Morgan and his bosses would love it if Murdoch's paper
got it first."
Ten minutes later, the 3AM Girls left with fleas in
their ears, a guaranteed exclusive for the first
night, and the knowledge that they would NEVER work
for Cindy Inc.
* * * * * * * * * *
Natalie Portman had the run of the suite while the
others were shopping, giving interviews or otherwise
taking a break from the grind. She was doing what came
naturally; she was flicking through the channels
trying to find something to watch. Finding nothing
worth watching except some stuff on VH-1, she had left
it there, and now she only had muted music videos for
company.
Natalie studied the remote control. She let the
thought come to her mind for a moment, then decided
why not. With not a sound in the room, she fondled
herself with the remote, letting the fingers play with
the buttons as the small device hovered above her
crotch.
"Call yourself a dirty girl, Christina?" Natalie
murmured at the screen, as the jailbird strutted her
silent stuff. "How about getting this on screen?"
With her trousers zipped open, Natalie ran the remote
over her panty-covered crotch, then gently pushed it
under the fabric. It danced over the dark fuzz of her
pussy. "Hey BBC - I really DO make this what it is,"
she said softly, prodding the unit against her quim as
the screen changed from Christina to David Sneddon.
Fortunately, Natalie didn't know reality-pop winners
from Adam as she carefully slipped the remote inside
her, and started to twirl it.
"It's not TV. It's not even HBO," she whispered, as
she fitted the remote further up her. Oooooh... she
had constantly felt screwed by television, but this
was a whole new feeling. The remote control squirmed
around, tingling her box and causing her to smile. You
had to take it where you could get it...
Natalie removed the remote, turned it so the business
end faced the TV, and opened herself up as far as she
could. In went the remote, Natalie gasping and
grunting as it entered... she clamped down on the
remote and aimed at the set. Tensing her pussy
muscles, she twitched herself.
The set clicked to the next channel.
"YES!!!" Natalie chuckled. "In your faces, Reese
Witherspoon and Heather Graham!" They might be able to
flip coins with their cunts, she thought, but could
they change channels? Too bad Reese was on J-Lo's team
and off limits, but the next time she and Heather were
on duty at Cindy's... thoughts of showing off to Miss
Graham were interrupted by the phone ringing. Grateful
for an excuse to not look at "The Nanny" on Living,
Natalie let the remote go and bottomless ran to the
phone.
"Hello?"
"That's quite a party piece you have there, Miss
Portman."
Natalie immediately threw the phone down and zipped up
her trousers. The bastard WAS in London. He HAD
followed her here... and he knew where she was. She
was very, very close to screaming.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Arpad..."
"No."
Things had never been so frosty between Elle and her
partner. Arpad did love her, but this whole celeb
prostitute business was driving a wall between them.
"Do you really think I'm going to run off with someone
one day?" Elle asked as they faced each other in their
house.
Arpad shook his head. "No, I just... I just don't like
seeing you having sex with other men."
"You should have said something when I first joined,"
Elle told him.
"I thought I could take it... it turns out I
couldn't."
Elle thought for a moment. At least he hadn't gone and
put it about with another woman, and was telling her
straight out. "All right. Of course, you could come
over this evening - relatives are always on the
house..."
"You want to bribe me to let you stay?"
"You can't MAKE me quit, Arpad. Whatever I decide,
it'll be my decision."
Arpad nodded. Whatever she decided to do, it would be
her decision.
"But remember, I wasn't the one who boned Holly
Valance five times," Elle added, hitting him where it
hurt.
* * * * * * * * * *
Cindy Crawford had a number of set rules in this
business; one was, she never did it the day she was
holding a special event. The day before, yes, but
never on the day. She said that it helped to save the
energy for the actual time. Especially now that most
of the women were gathered and the place was almost
ready for opening.
All the women had been told of the procedure, and they
had all been enthusiastic about doing it for charity;
the only problem was that the people they would be
doing it for were for the most part too young to
understand (or so they hoped). But it was all for a
good cause. Now, as Cindy got back to the suite after
making sure all was ready, she had time for a nap.
Entering her bedroom, she thought she could use one.
She forgot all about sleeping when she saw what was
happening. A young man was lying on her bed, tossing
and turning - not because he was asleep, but because
of the young woman on top of him. Cindy kept silent,
watching the woman grinding up and down, her blonde
hair whipping back and forth, plump buttocks on his
crotch, his hands grabbing her as she rode him. She
was having too much fun to notice any audience, and he
was shouting so loudly he wouldn't have heard anyone.
"WHOOOO!!!" the young woman howled, rising and
slamming herself down. "GIVE IT TO ME, NICK!"
Nick did his best, forcing himself deep into her hot
dark snatch (the girl was not a natural blonde). In
truth, he didn't have to try too hard - masturbating
to her every week was so great it was a warmup for the
real thing. She bent forward, giving him a shot at her
bouncy chest, and Cindy glanced at the mirror on the
side - it would give her an idea of who the girl was.
Cindy came thisclose to shouting when she saw the
profile. The snub nose, the pout, the pale face... but
then she backed out quietly. She'd give them time to
finish before asking Elisha Cuthbert what she was
doing fucking in London when she was supposed to be
fucked in New York...
* * * * * * * * * *
Elisha strolled out of Cindy's room buck naked half an
hour later, blowing a still exhausted Nick a kiss.
"Just give me a few moments to do the drinks and then
I'll be ready for the night..." Elisha fell silent
when she saw the boss sitting there.
"Oh fuck... sorry Cindy... it's just that the guy who
let me in was a hottie, and... I was in Customs for
hours and you know, opportunity knocks once and..."
"I thought you were in New York," Cindy told the once
and forever Kim Bauer calmly. "You called and told me
your flight had been delayed - "
"I never called you!"
"Oh, please," Cindy retorted. "You called from
LaGuardia..."
"Did you actually SPEAK to me?" asked the diminutive
blonde.
"No," Cindy admitted. "Gwyneth took the call."
"Then maybe we need to talk to Gwynnie."
* * * * * * * * * *
Along with most of the other women, Gwyneth was in
Leicester Square preparing for the big night. Each one
had her own room, and Gwyneth was flicking through a
"Heat" looking for stuff about herself when her phone
rang. Flinging aside the travails of "EastEnders"
stars and relieved that none of them were on board, La
Paltrow took it on the first ring.
"Hello?... Who is this?"
"It's Elisha Cuthbert."
"No it isn't - I talked to her earlier and you're not
her."
"That WAS her," Cindy said, taking the phone from
Elisha. "Don't you ever watch '24'?"
"Can't say that I have," Gwyneth replied, before
realising what had happened... she'd been tricked. She
kicked herself for not paying more attention to her
workmates's careers. Just because she was in
television... "So who was it who called me then?"
"Someone who's been keeping a real close eye on us,"
Cindy said coldly.
* * * * * * * * * *
He looked at his ticket. All paid up, he had been one
of many who had tried to get advance booking for the
big night. Unlike many of the others, he had been
successful. And tonight, he was finally going to get
to Natalie.
"I can't thank you folks enough," he told his
benefactors.
"That's okay. You helped us, we help you. And relax,
your secret's safe with us," said the blonde 3AM Girl.
supermodel, mother and celebrity bordello owner. The
events in these stories are fictional and not intended
to represent the actual behaviour of the women (and
men) herein. Any comments, praise, complaints,
requests for women to be included go on the message
boards or to cindylover1969@yahoo.co.uk
Gwyneth Paltrow says "Previously on 'Cindy Inc'..."
Cindy Inc has successfully expanded on the Continent
and is about to open in London, but along with the
other problems in the run-up to opening night Natalie
Portman is being plagued by a deranged fan; Gorgeous
Gwyneth is being plagued by her comments on British
men (more of which to come in this chapter); Elle
Macpherson is being plagued by suggestions that she
leave; and worst of all, Cindy Crawford is being
plagued by the 3 AM Girls. Now read on...
(NOTE: S Club have, of course, now broken up. But this
is my story, so at the time it's set they're still
together.)
* * * * * * * * * *
Cindy mentally counted to 20 over and over to keep
from shrieking. It would have been a real boost to
have Elisha Cuthbert come over; "24" had made her a
favourite with guys on both sides of the Atlantic, and
having her come over specifically for Cindy Inc UK
instead of to promote the show would have been one in
the eye for the BBC (whose on-air personalities had
been forbidden for the most part to join up). And now
she was likely to miss the opening...
"Okay," she said calmly. "The second Elisha gets a new
seat call me. We can still go ahead."
"Yeah," Gwyneth agreed, counting them off. "You, me,
Nat, Elle, Nicole, Kate Winslet, Sophie, Amanda,
Holly, Lisa Snowdon, Cammie Diaz, Liberty X, Cat,
Linsey Dawn, the Tylers..."
"Linsey Dawn?" Amanda Holden interrupted, wrinkling
her nose. "You signed up Linsey Dawn McKenzie?"
"A sop to the soft-porn crowd," Cindy explained. "We
did think about getting some Page 3 girls, but..."
"Why not?" Michelle Heaton suggested. "Leilani
Dowding, Nicola McLean, Nikkala Stott... the tabloids
would love you for it."
"Speaking of which, what are you going to do about the
3AMs?" Gwyneth asked.
"Sit here and think for a bit," Cindy replied. "I
really don't want them around here every time I come
over..."
* * * * * * * * * *
Gwyneth sympathised as she settled in the back of her
car. Having those harpies on your back all day was no
way to live.
Having the entire back of a stretch limo was another
matter. She needed the space; she'd taken Sophie
Anderton in this car earlier (she privately dubbed it
the Shagmobile, though she wasn't about to let Chris
in it). The windows were thick, which was just as
well; Sophie was a screamer.
"Still have a problem with us, Miss Paltrow?" asked
the driver cheerily.
"AAARRRRGGGHHH!!!" Gwyneth screamed with part-disgust.
"What is it with that? I thought everyone here had
forgotten by now!"
"We don't forget these things, Miss Paltrow," the
driver said. "I know you didn't actually say it,
but..."
"How long is it until we get there?" Gwyneth asked,
looking at the traffic outside. It wasn't the rush
hour yet, but it was fairly heavy.
"It'll be a while. Command performance, is it?"
"Yep. Not looking forward to it," she admitted. "The
guy's not really my type, but the customer's always
right."
"You know, Miss Paltrow..."
"Mm?"
"Nothing," the driver said, hating himself for not
being able to ask if he could have her services
afterwards, at the same price. "Nothing..."
* * * * * * * * * *
"...and here's our waitress for the evening," said
Lord Dunstable to his family. Entering in a
traditional maid's uniform, only much shorter, Gwyneth
Paltrow looked over at the crowd.
They were all very rich, and very uppercrust. The head
of the family, the Lord in question, was in his
mid-70s and looked it; the youngest person there was
still ten years older than she was. Gwyneth's job was
to serve each person there, and give them an aperitif
of herself.
"Ah, a quiet type are you? That's the trouble with
these damned Yanks, too bloody impressed with the
upper classes to get all brash and loudmouthed. Still,
better than the alternative eh?" he laughed.
Gwyneth curtseyed, and brought each guest their trays,
receiving compliments from a quiet "Thank you" to the
odd pinch and slap ("Not much meat on those bones, is
there? Still, it's quality"). She felt just about
every guest put his (and they were all men) hand up
her dress, lingering on her long thighs and tight
little ass.
"Gwynnie!" called Lord Dunstable when they were all
served. "It's time for you to give out the first
course."
Nodding, Gwyneth approached the head, and then noticed
he had his other head out. He had unzipped his
trousers, and was casually waving his cock for her to
see. Gwyneth studied it - tiny thing, but she knew
better than not to comment.
"And when you're done with that, the others get theirs
as well. Whatever they want..."
Lord Dunstable's oldest son, who was sitting next to
him, rubbed Gwyneth's bottom again. La Paltrow
mentally prepared herself to receive a visitor through
the back door, and bent down to fellate his father.
She felt his wee prick become as stiff and hard as it
probably ever would; she did her best to make it seem
like she was having a good time.
He certainly was: "Good heavens, you've got a good
mouth on you Gwyneth... ummmm, yes, excellent tongue
action... I can't believe someone who sucks cock so
well can't find a man... don't just sit there, son,
give that cock of yours a home."
Gwyneth's eyes widened as Lord Dunstable's son exposed
her rump to the onlookers, spread it, and splotched
something onto the starfish. "Ketchup... " Lord
Dunstable explained between sighs as the beautiful
American blonde kept tasting his prick. "Can't stand
to spit on a woman's anus or anywhere... necessity's
the mother of invention... but you have to serve the
audience... make them all happy..."
The son soon had Gwyneth's bunghole lubed up with
Heinz's best known product, and that was when Gwyneth
had her idea. She knew Cindy would love it; and it
would make up for the uncommon, obscene haste with
which the son jammed his cock into her chute. She felt
the sauce squishing around down there, and his cock
slipping up her rapidly. Gwyneth kept on sucking as he
cored her, listening to his grunts of satisfaction;
she had a small bottom, but it was cute and nice to
touch, and a thin slice of the best steak could be
better than a Big Mac. (And often was.)
Under Gwyneth's seemingly cold exterior lay the heart
of a woman who loved almost anything to do with sex;
exhibitionism, troilism, bondage, you name it she was
up for it. When she felt a second prick go next to the
first in her anus she jumped for joy within - and
when, on completing the blowjob, she looked up to see
two other diners with their cocks aimed at her face,
Gwyneth Paltrow started to spend a lot more than seven
minutes in heaven...
* * * * * * * * * *
"Everybody present and accounted for?" asked Cindy an
hour or two later. "Gwynnie here told me about this
idea she got while she was at the mercy of Lord
Dunstable, and it's not a bad one."
"You've probably received one or two mercy fucks in
your life," Gwyneth started.
"YOU probably have," Natalie Portman countered.
"Anyway," Gwyneth continued, ignoring Miss Portman, "I
was thinking we take the thinking and put a twist on
it. Those men giving it to us think we're charity
cases, so..."
Blank faces at first, then it hit Nicole Kidman first.
"You want us to do it for... charity?"
"All the proceeds for the first 24 hours, anyway,"
Cindy added. "We all work our butts off - and the
first guys we each get have us for free - and hand it
over to something like... Children in Need?"
"Which is where the S Club ladies come in," Gwyneth
went on. "The rumours about that video of me, Nicky
and the boss in action for Rande's birthday were so
strong that when Rachel and the other three were over
last time we had to show it to them in return for them
agreeing to come on board - Tina was really
insistent."
"What about the guys?" Cameron Diaz, whose flight HAD
come, asked. Every other person in the room looked at
her with an "Oh, please" expression on their faces.
Cammie got the message.
"The group's always working for CIN," Cindy went on,
"and they'll go for this in a second."
"Suppose they say no?" Lisa Snowdon asked.
"It'll be legally earned cash," Gwyneth assured them.
"And there's another little plus..."
The 3 AM girls had demanded an answer from Cindy just
before this meeting; Cindy had told them what the deal
was, and assured them that this was an exclusive
story.
"Just for the three of you," she had added. "And it'll
REMAIN an exclusive scoop. Even the American gossip
queens won't have it."
This jacked up the women's egos even further.
"However..."
(Nothing good came after 'However,' the women had
learned.)
"...there IS one catch. We've got some reporters on
board the US branch from E! and "Entertainment
Tonight" and so on, and those ladies of theirs we do
have are on board with the understanding that they
can't report on anything that goes on behind the
scenes or in the bedrooms at Cindy Inc. Ever.
"See, I know your type - if you three girls join
you'll be trying to get the dirt all the time. Jules -
that's Jules Asner - knows the score and she plays
fair, but I'm not sure you do. But we know we have to
keep the columnists sweet, so this is the deal... if
you join us, you can't report. If you report, you
can't join us. It's one or the other."
"But we were supposed to get the cover of 'Vanity
Fair'!" the blonde 3AM Girl had complained. "And the
Yanks went behind our backs..."
"Yes, I can't believed they decided Kirsten Dunst
would sell more copies than three showbiz hacks,"
Cindy had told them with enough sarcasm to sink the
QE2. "Besides, if you did come on board all the other
women would quit... so what do you say?"
"The deal's still open. But I'm sure 'The Sun' would
love to hear about your tactics... and I'm sure Mr.
Morgan and his bosses would love it if Murdoch's paper
got it first."
Ten minutes later, the 3AM Girls left with fleas in
their ears, a guaranteed exclusive for the first
night, and the knowledge that they would NEVER work
for Cindy Inc.
* * * * * * * * * *
Natalie Portman had the run of the suite while the
others were shopping, giving interviews or otherwise
taking a break from the grind. She was doing what came
naturally; she was flicking through the channels
trying to find something to watch. Finding nothing
worth watching except some stuff on VH-1, she had left
it there, and now she only had muted music videos for
company.
Natalie studied the remote control. She let the
thought come to her mind for a moment, then decided
why not. With not a sound in the room, she fondled
herself with the remote, letting the fingers play with
the buttons as the small device hovered above her
crotch.
"Call yourself a dirty girl, Christina?" Natalie
murmured at the screen, as the jailbird strutted her
silent stuff. "How about getting this on screen?"
With her trousers zipped open, Natalie ran the remote
over her panty-covered crotch, then gently pushed it
under the fabric. It danced over the dark fuzz of her
pussy. "Hey BBC - I really DO make this what it is,"
she said softly, prodding the unit against her quim as
the screen changed from Christina to David Sneddon.
Fortunately, Natalie didn't know reality-pop winners
from Adam as she carefully slipped the remote inside
her, and started to twirl it.
"It's not TV. It's not even HBO," she whispered, as
she fitted the remote further up her. Oooooh... she
had constantly felt screwed by television, but this
was a whole new feeling. The remote control squirmed
around, tingling her box and causing her to smile. You
had to take it where you could get it...
Natalie removed the remote, turned it so the business
end faced the TV, and opened herself up as far as she
could. In went the remote, Natalie gasping and
grunting as it entered... she clamped down on the
remote and aimed at the set. Tensing her pussy
muscles, she twitched herself.
The set clicked to the next channel.
"YES!!!" Natalie chuckled. "In your faces, Reese
Witherspoon and Heather Graham!" They might be able to
flip coins with their cunts, she thought, but could
they change channels? Too bad Reese was on J-Lo's team
and off limits, but the next time she and Heather were
on duty at Cindy's... thoughts of showing off to Miss
Graham were interrupted by the phone ringing. Grateful
for an excuse to not look at "The Nanny" on Living,
Natalie let the remote go and bottomless ran to the
phone.
"Hello?"
"That's quite a party piece you have there, Miss
Portman."
Natalie immediately threw the phone down and zipped up
her trousers. The bastard WAS in London. He HAD
followed her here... and he knew where she was. She
was very, very close to screaming.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Arpad..."
"No."
Things had never been so frosty between Elle and her
partner. Arpad did love her, but this whole celeb
prostitute business was driving a wall between them.
"Do you really think I'm going to run off with someone
one day?" Elle asked as they faced each other in their
house.
Arpad shook his head. "No, I just... I just don't like
seeing you having sex with other men."
"You should have said something when I first joined,"
Elle told him.
"I thought I could take it... it turns out I
couldn't."
Elle thought for a moment. At least he hadn't gone and
put it about with another woman, and was telling her
straight out. "All right. Of course, you could come
over this evening - relatives are always on the
house..."
"You want to bribe me to let you stay?"
"You can't MAKE me quit, Arpad. Whatever I decide,
it'll be my decision."
Arpad nodded. Whatever she decided to do, it would be
her decision.
"But remember, I wasn't the one who boned Holly
Valance five times," Elle added, hitting him where it
hurt.
* * * * * * * * * *
Cindy Crawford had a number of set rules in this
business; one was, she never did it the day she was
holding a special event. The day before, yes, but
never on the day. She said that it helped to save the
energy for the actual time. Especially now that most
of the women were gathered and the place was almost
ready for opening.
All the women had been told of the procedure, and they
had all been enthusiastic about doing it for charity;
the only problem was that the people they would be
doing it for were for the most part too young to
understand (or so they hoped). But it was all for a
good cause. Now, as Cindy got back to the suite after
making sure all was ready, she had time for a nap.
Entering her bedroom, she thought she could use one.
She forgot all about sleeping when she saw what was
happening. A young man was lying on her bed, tossing
and turning - not because he was asleep, but because
of the young woman on top of him. Cindy kept silent,
watching the woman grinding up and down, her blonde
hair whipping back and forth, plump buttocks on his
crotch, his hands grabbing her as she rode him. She
was having too much fun to notice any audience, and he
was shouting so loudly he wouldn't have heard anyone.
"WHOOOO!!!" the young woman howled, rising and
slamming herself down. "GIVE IT TO ME, NICK!"
Nick did his best, forcing himself deep into her hot
dark snatch (the girl was not a natural blonde). In
truth, he didn't have to try too hard - masturbating
to her every week was so great it was a warmup for the
real thing. She bent forward, giving him a shot at her
bouncy chest, and Cindy glanced at the mirror on the
side - it would give her an idea of who the girl was.
Cindy came thisclose to shouting when she saw the
profile. The snub nose, the pout, the pale face... but
then she backed out quietly. She'd give them time to
finish before asking Elisha Cuthbert what she was
doing fucking in London when she was supposed to be
fucked in New York...
* * * * * * * * * *
Elisha strolled out of Cindy's room buck naked half an
hour later, blowing a still exhausted Nick a kiss.
"Just give me a few moments to do the drinks and then
I'll be ready for the night..." Elisha fell silent
when she saw the boss sitting there.
"Oh fuck... sorry Cindy... it's just that the guy who
let me in was a hottie, and... I was in Customs for
hours and you know, opportunity knocks once and..."
"I thought you were in New York," Cindy told the once
and forever Kim Bauer calmly. "You called and told me
your flight had been delayed - "
"I never called you!"
"Oh, please," Cindy retorted. "You called from
LaGuardia..."
"Did you actually SPEAK to me?" asked the diminutive
blonde.
"No," Cindy admitted. "Gwyneth took the call."
"Then maybe we need to talk to Gwynnie."
* * * * * * * * * *
Along with most of the other women, Gwyneth was in
Leicester Square preparing for the big night. Each one
had her own room, and Gwyneth was flicking through a
"Heat" looking for stuff about herself when her phone
rang. Flinging aside the travails of "EastEnders"
stars and relieved that none of them were on board, La
Paltrow took it on the first ring.
"Hello?... Who is this?"
"It's Elisha Cuthbert."
"No it isn't - I talked to her earlier and you're not
her."
"That WAS her," Cindy said, taking the phone from
Elisha. "Don't you ever watch '24'?"
"Can't say that I have," Gwyneth replied, before
realising what had happened... she'd been tricked. She
kicked herself for not paying more attention to her
workmates's careers. Just because she was in
television... "So who was it who called me then?"
"Someone who's been keeping a real close eye on us,"
Cindy said coldly.
* * * * * * * * * *
He looked at his ticket. All paid up, he had been one
of many who had tried to get advance booking for the
big night. Unlike many of the others, he had been
successful. And tonight, he was finally going to get
to Natalie.
"I can't thank you folks enough," he told his
benefactors.
"That's okay. You helped us, we help you. And relax,
your secret's safe with us," said the blonde 3AM Girl.