anonymous
12-11-2007, 12:23 PM
The continuing adventures of Cindy Crawford -
supermodel, mother and celebrity bordello owner. The
conduct of the celebs herein is not intended to
represent their actual behaviour; this isn't for
under-18s; and any praise, complaints or whatever to
go on the message boards or to
cindylover1969@yahoo.co.uk. (And note to the people
who put the stories up: it's Laetitia. Not Laetita,
L-A-E-T-I-T-I-A.)
* * * * * * * * *
With the successful launch of the London branch and
the end of the 3AM Girls behind her, Cindy Crawford
thought that it had all been a very good trip all
told. Okay, she had lost Natalie Portman, but she had
gained some more people. All the better for one
forthcoming client.
And best of all, Laetitia Casta had arrived in Malibu
the same day Cindy got back, in order to take up her
week's residency at Cindy Inc.; she had time before
shooting started on her next movie. Cindy murmured to
herself happily as she lay in her palatial bed on
site, and thought about the previous night. He had
paid a lot to have the two of them together, and she
and Laetitia had done their best to give satisfaction.
And there he was, lying there between the two of them.
Cindy studied him, absolutely worn out, and craned
over to see the faces of the man and Laetitia. The
French model/actress looked heavenly asleep, slow
steady breathing as she slumbered, heavy chest rising
and falling rhythmically...
It suddenly occurred to Cindy that the man wasn't
breathing. He was lying there, only a few years
younger than Laetitia; he looked perfectly healthy and
fast asleep except for the fact that he wasn't moving.
Cindy clambered over to the man, hoping she wouldn't
wake the French woman before she had to, and felt for
his pulse; nothing. She put her fingers under his nose
in case there was anything like breathing... nothing.
"Shit..." she moaned in fear. The son of one of their
wealthiest clients had died in her bed. It was time to
wake up Laetitia.
* * * * * * * * * *
Laetitia had been the first one to be awakened,
followed by the other women. Cindy Inc. was normally a
relatively clean place - you got your rough customers
(from the S&M freaks to the ones who liked it really
nasty - at least three of the women had found
themselves performing bodily functions on customers),
but nothing like this had happened before.
As Cindy and the other women on duty that night
gathered and waited for the police to arrive, the
quaking Miss Casta was the centre of attention, not
all of it horrified.
"I gotta hand it to you, LC," Tera Patrick chuckled,
"even I'm not good enough to fuck a man to death."
"Oh for the love of God, give it a rest!" Gwen Stefani
shouted. "This shit could close us down..."
"Yeah, right. Like River Phoenix's death shut down the
Viper Room," Mya pointed out.
"It was probably just one of those things," Cindy
suggested. "Come on Laetitia, it wasn't your fault...
try and tell us what happened, straighten it out in
your mind before the cops get here."
"A drink might help," Laetitia suggested, still
jittery but glad they were in close proximity to a
liquor cabinet. Cindy took it on herself to pour the
Frenchwoman some brandy and, on seeing Gwen's
expectant look, some Scotch for the No Doubt singer as
well. Handing them their drinks and asking if anyone
else wanted some (no), she watched Laetitia down the
booze.
"All right," she said. "I was waiting to get the
all-clear signal from you..."
It was an unwritten but unviolable rule at Cindy Inc.
that no one EVER interrupted the ladies at work except
in the most extreme circumstances. It was true that
Peter Hobbs Sr. had arranged for Peter Hobbs Jr. to be
with both Cindy and Laetitia that evening, but they
had agreed that Peter would be with the older woman
first, then go with LC (who Master Hobbs admitted to
preferring - Cindy had understood; Laetitia was closer
to his own age after all), then go with the two of
them. "He's never done it before," the businessman had
explained. "I figured that he may as well get it from
a reputable source."
Laetitia was glad that there was some time between her
last client and this one - she had needed time to get
the woman's pubes out of her mouth (not to mention the
taste - unfortunately said woman had a penchant for
water sports), and she was now all freshened up and
ready. Behind the velvet door she heard Hobbs the
Younger's howls and cries and protestations of love
and devotion, etc, etc., and chuckled to herself -
Cindy was on form tonight. "It must be a blowjob," she
thought to herself in French. "It's always the head
that does it." The red light above the door lit up; it
was safe for her to go in. "Showtime," she said to
herself, and entered.
Peter Hobbs was lying on the large but rumpled bed,
his medium-sized cock still stiff but starting to
soften. Besides him, Cindy Crawford stroked his chest,
a few white drops still on her lips. "Now that wasn't
so bad, was it?" she asked him tenderly, his thrilled
expression saying it all. "But here's someone who'll
make you even happier... over there?" The lad turned
to see the model/actress standing by the bed, smiling
down at him in the nude. Both Laetitia and Cindy
spotted his cock rising up almost at once; that was
the nice thing about sex with boys, they reloaded
quickly. The trouble was that they usually finished
quickly as well...
"I'll leave you two alone," Cindy said, climbing off
the bed. "I'll be back whenever you're ready." She
gently kissed Laetitia on the lips, whispered "See you
later," and left the two alone.
"Are you and her...?" Peter asked as Laetitia joined
him.
"Sometimes," Laetitia answered, softly fondling him as
he started to touch her. She could sense he was still
slightly nervous at being with a woman, even though he
had just been alone with Cindy C. "Don't worry, I
still like men."
Peter liked the implication that he was a man. He
liked the warm, soft lady that was next to him even
more; she was definitely not skinny. There was a lot
of woman to Laetitia, and he enjoyed touching her -
the more he explored, the more at ease he felt. As he
roamed her comfortable tits and ran his fingers
through her wonderfully hirsute cunt, Peter was
thrilled to find that she wasn't hurrying him along;
this was everything he had hoped it would be. Calm,
gentle, and fun. He kissed her, feeling her jagged
tooth with his tongue; she still hadn't had them
capped. He didn't mind, however - Laetitia had too
much else going for her.
Laetitia nipped his chest lightly as she caressed him,
finding his stiffy and gently stroking it. "Are you
ready for another one?" she asked.
"Only if you want to," he answered, and the woman gave
him a small smile - he could have ordered her to do
it, he was the customer. In any case, she did want to;
she moved down his body, letting him feel her nipples
rubbing his chest, until she was facing his prick. "I
hope Cindy left some for me," she told Peter, and
opened wide. Peter's eyes also opened wide as
Laetitia's wet mouth took in his cock; Cindy Inc.
always charged extra for Laetitia Casta's blowjobs,
but his dad had assured him it would be worth the
extra $150. He was right... Laetitia combined both
youthful energy and expertise, and the little flicks
with her tongue she gave his balls were lovely
garnishes to the experience. He had seen that movie
where she played a prostitute, but the real thing was
even better. She was feeling his erection almost to
the back of her throat, and really sounding like she
was enjoying it.
Peter found, to his delight, that he DID have some
left for Laetitia.
He was soon holding her tight again, his hands
clutching her fragrant flesh and wondering what it
would be like to be inside her, even with a condom (it
had been his idea, not his father's). With the tip of
one of Laetitia's huge tits filling his mouth, he
couldn't wait to find out; and the best thing was,
even if he couldn't get into Miss Casta he had a
backup. Said backup - Cindy Crawford - was behind him,
rubbing her well-trimmed box against his rump and
kissing his back and neck while he greedily sucked
Laetitia's jugs. Peter fondly cast his mind back to
Cindy's beautiful breasts; who'd have thought these
two gorgeous ladies had three children between them?
Cindy pressed her form against his back, massaging him
with her entire body while he tasted the soft French
woman under him. She waited for him to ask if she and
Laetitia could make love while he watched - it had
happened before - and was surprised when he never did.
Kissing him all the way down, she was also grateful;
it was a change for a guy to not demand the old
lesbian act occasionally. Peter was fully mounted on
Laetitia, and Cindy was now facing his buttocks; she
had a crystal clear view of his erection poised just
above Laetitia's snatch, and watched him push it
inside her. It was almost like watching a porn movie
in 3-D; she could actually hear the sliding sounds of
Peter's meat slithering along Laetitia's wet opening,
with only their groans for accompaniment.
Cindy carefully moved back up while the two pumped
away at each other, and spread Peter's buns, deciding
to give him some oral stimulus. Not that he needed
any, she noticed as she moved her head down - he
looked like he could fill her up without any help...
but she did notice a quickening of his grinding as she
slipped her tongue up Peter's asshole. Cindy rolled
her tongue around in there as the couple beneath her
sped up, Laetitia starting to curse in French the way
she did each time Cindy ate HER ass out. The weird
thing was, it still sounded romantic...
An hour later, the three of them lay there; they had
been having a little post-sex talk. Cindy had fallen
asleep first, with Peter having conked out shortly
afterwards. Laetitia was having difficulty keeping her
eyes open herself, and she thought she might as well
go with it... she shut her eyes and waited for sleep
to come, and that was when she felt the fingers.
Laetitia didn't let on that she knew he was touching
her up, slowly stroking her while he thought she was
asleep. she (Laetitia) had felt him fondling her,
saying nothing but little murmurs of satisfaction as
he probed her.
Laetitia lay there, still with her eyes shut, not
daring to do anything. Not even when she felt herself
being rolled onto her front. Not even when she felt
her legs being pulled up into the air. And not even
when she felt her buttocks being spread apart, and
something smeared onto the hole between. She bit down
into the pillow, praying that it wouldn't be a replay
of the time she had been with that boy who just jammed
it inside her and left her aching for a week.
Thankfully, it wasn't.
"And that was it," Laetitia finished. "He fucked me up
the butt while I was pretending to be asleep, he went
back to sleep, and that was it."
"Well, at least he died happy," Mya said with a wry
look on her face, as the officers came in. Laetitia
sighed - she would have to tell it all over again.
Cindy also sighed - who knew how long it would be
before the cops would be through here...
It was several hours before the cops were all through,
but they were thankful that it was before Cindy Inc.
was due to open for business. The police did warn
Cindy that they might have to come back, but "That's
to be expected," Cindy smiled. (Besides, she herself
had personally entertained some of the boys in blue on
occasion.) "See you all later..."
* * * * * * * * * *
"What can I do for you, officers?" Cindy asked the
very next evening as she welcomed them into her
office.
"Actually, ma'am, it's not so much what you can do for
me as one of your women," said the older half of the
pair of policemen, the pair who had been first on the
scene that night.
"It's Laetitia Casta. We think she might be able to
help us with the Hobbs business," the younger officer
added.
"Okay... but she told you everything," Cindy replied,
as she buzzed Laetitia.
"Not quite, ma'am," said the younger officer, not
entirely accustomed to this moment. "The coroner
found..."
"Yes?"
"...that someone had given him a dose."
"Oh God..." Cindy replied in shock. "Oh dear Lord...
he was murdered?"
"And so far as we know, you and Miss Casta were the
only other ones in the room around that time."
"But why do you only want to talk to Laetitia? Why not
me?"
"Because we found something interesting in that room
among her stuff; some hypodermic needles," the older
officer answered as Laetitia entered, saw Cindy and
the policemen, and instantly knew what was happening.
"No trace of the stuff that killed him, but..."
As if the broken-voiced calls from Gloria Hobbs
demanding to speak to the woman who killed her son
hadn't been bad enough.
* * * * * * * * * *
Because Cindy had been known to do the odd... um...
favour for the Chief of Police, the word spread
throughout the department that if anything got out to
the press about the trouble Laetitia was in, the
person or persons responsible would suddenly be
demoted all the way down to unemployment. So no one
said anything openly - but privately one or two of
them had already tried and convicted Laetitia of the
crime. True, she hadn't been officially charged, but
she was a foreigner, and worse than that a FRENCH
foreigner. And everyone knew what they were like...
While Laetitia waited in a separate cubicle for her
boss, Cindy made her own statement. It was identical
to Laetitia's in nearly every respect - "I'd been
pretty busy that night, and Peter was my last job of
the evening... I was pretty tired after I'd finished,
so I just zonked out and left him and Laetitia to it.
But I did wake up for a bit later on..."
Or rather, someone had woken her up. Someone's
fingers, moving in circles on her back. Cindy had been
asleep for about an hour by then, but still not deep
enough to avoid being woken up by the massage she was
getting.
She blearily opened her eyes, and considered turning
over to give Peter a surprise - nah, let him play with
her. Unlike Laetitia, she was lying on her front so he
couldn't get at her tits; but he could still play with
her ass. Cindy let a lazy smile spread across her face
as she felt the first of several affectionate smacks
land on her behind, and her gaze wandered to the
bedside clock - it was always useful if she was witha
client who went with the hourly rate instead of the
flat fee.
"It was about 3:00 in the morning," Cindy finished.
"You're sure about that?" the older officer asked.
"Positive."
* * * * * * * * * *
"So if my girl Cindy's telling the truth..." the older
officer would later say.
"Your girl Cindy?" the younger officer would
interrupt.
"Well, anyway," the older officer would hurriedly
continue, "if she's telling the truth it would mean
that someone else apart from Cindy C, the frog and the
kid was in that room."
"Why?"
"Because the stuff that was in the Hobbs kid takes
between one and two hours to work. Think about it -
the guy goes in there, gives the kid the jab, decides
not to let some quality flesh go to waste and has
himself a free fuck; buggers the Frog first, then does
Cindy."
"Or vice versa."
"Whatever. The point is, maybe the Frog didn't do it."
"Why do you keep calling her that?"
"I call them how I see them," the older officer
replied. "Cindy may be a celebrity whore, but she's
one of ours."
The younger officer didn't say anything.
"Or maybe Casta DID do it. She said she was buttfucked
but with the ass on her, she probably gets cocks up it
at every chance; she gives him the air and gives Cindy
a paddling..."
"Cindy said he jacked off on her ass," the younger
officer interrupted. "How do you explain that? And why
would Laetitia want to kill him anyway?"
* * * * * * * * * *
"Actually, it wasn't the first time she's been with
that family," Briana Banks confided.
"Really?" asked Asia Carrera.
"Do tell," Tera Patrick urged.
Even though more porn actresses were working at Cindy
Inc., and even though Cindy herself had gotten over
the tinges of snobbery she had once had over using
them, there was still some cliquery in the ranks, a
definite touch of "them against us" (though not quite
to the extent of J-Lo's, where Sarah Michelle Gellar,
Heather Locklear and Ashley Judd had actually quit
when the boss had informed them that a) the likes of
Ashlyn Gere and Kylie Ireland were staying around and
b) that they were actually more often requested than
some "proper" celebs - Cindy had laughed for hours on
hearing that Jennifer Lopez had actually BEGGED her
more-gifted-thespically colleagues to come back).
"You didn't hear this from me," Briana assured them,
"but Laetitia was with the Hobbses in the French
branch when they were there on business. I was there
too that night, in a pairing with the dad - he likes
group sex. Anyway, he had Miss Jugs bouncing on his
cock like nobody's business, and I was doing the kid;
and he goes and yells that I'm better than her."
"And were you?" asked Tera.
"Of course I am!" Briana cackled. "The look on
Laetitia's face... you could tell she was ready to
kill."
"And she hated him that much? Come on..." Asia argued.
"Hey, she's a model and she's French. Humiliated by a
porn star... Crime passionel, you know?"
* * * * * * * * * *
"Sorry we had to keep you waiting for so long," the
officer said to Gwen Stefani.
"Don't sweat it; it's called saving the best for
last," laughed Gwen, unaware that Mya was saying
exactly the same thing to the officer talking to her.
All the other women on the premises that night had
been interviewed, but had turned up precisely zilch.
"So what do you want to know?"
"Just tell us what you did last night," the officer
said to Mya Harrison, who gave him a knowing look.
"Aren't you a little young for that kind of thing?"
she asked, twirling the cigarette between her fingers.
"No games, please. We've all had a long night."
Mya nodded and stubbed out the cigarette. "Okay,
here's what it was like. Me and Gwen were a team that
night - ebony and ivory, together in perfect harmony.
Except I'd take Gwen Stefani over Paul McCartney any
day," she laughed.
"You and me both," the officer couldn't help saying.
"Go on..."
Ellis Arnold stood there, his eyes fixed on Mya as she
embraced Gwen; Mya enjoyed the fact that she had
bigger breasts than Gwen, but she enjoyed rubbing her
own jugs against the white girl's even more. Gwen's
body was heavenly; tight and rippling, fun to watch
and even better to stroke. She French-kissed Gwen and
pinched her, wondering how Ellis was liking it.
He was LOVING it; the no-camera rule meant he couldn't
get any pictures of Gwen's pale hands on Mya's
chocolate rump, so he stared closely at Miss Stefani
rubbing Mya's juicy buttcheeks. He looked even closer
as Gwen spread them apart, exposing her dark holes for
him to see. As Mya writhed on top of her, Gwen slipped
the middle finger of her left hand into Mya's puckered
anus, and the one on the right into her open cunt, and
began to work her in both openings at once. Ellis
started to work himself as they rolled over; like a
lot of smaller-breasted women (including Cindy Inc's
own Shakira and J-Lo's Sandra Bullock), Gwen Stefani
made up below what she didn't have up top. Now she was
up top of Mya in both senses, though Mya's "oooohs"
and "aaaaahs" were still coming through loud and clear
- Gwen had one of the loveliest asses in
entertainment, and to his delight Ellis saw Mya's long
fingers fucking her undoubtedly well-cored butt.
He thrust away on his cock with increased intensity as
he listened to the two women grunt and curse while
they explored each other, Gwen kissing Mya's tits
while the black singer bit the white singer's shoulder
with passion. Gwen spread Mya's legs apart and the
latter swiveled herself so Ellis was looking directly
between her legs. "You won't see THIS in 'Maxim,'" she
grinned, and pulled Gwen between her legs; Mya started
to pant almost at once. Ellis thought to herself that
she had to be putting it on - Gwen couldn't be that
good...
Ellis's cock was hurting watching the blonde's head
moving inside Mya's muff; all shaved (Gwen didn't like
hairy cunts, which was one reason why she hoped she'd
never be with Elizabeth "The Naked Jungle" Hurley) and
tasty. He moved in, partly for a closer look at Gwen's
tongue inside Mya's slit, and partly because he wanted
to decorate Miss Harrison's splendid tits with his
come. Mya was playing with said boobs as he and the
other man, similarly thrilled, stood next to her,
their cocks over her head. She threw it back and
yelled as Gwen flicked her little clit with her
tongue, and received the first dose of cum right in
her open mouth as the two men pulled - the mix of dark
nipple and white come had them thrusting even harder,
splashing out over Mya's torso as she jerked on the
bed under Gwen's hungry mouth.
Then Ellis Arnold and Peter Hobbs Sr used their
recharging cocks to wipe the semen over Mya's breasts
until they were shining.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Hobbs Sr? The dad was there too?"
"Yeah," Gwen answered. "We get more fathers coming in
with their sons than you'd think. Sometimes we even
get relatives of some of our own coming in; just gotta
be careful that we don't have the actual ladies on
duty that night. The dads usually go for different
women to the sons - ain't too many kids want their
daddy's sloppy seconds," she added with a laugh. "Plus
most of them go for separate rooms."
"Obviously. So what happened then?"
What happened then was that a reloaded Peter couldn't
see too clearly. Because he had Gwen Stefani's pussy
on his face, and she was riding him while whooping
like a demented cowgirl. He couldn't see her gorgeous
little tits, but he knew they were there - he could
tell she'd had a lot of visitors to her snatch; loose,
but still snug. She took care of what she had below.
While he smelt Gwen's pussy and started to nudge his
tongue inside, next to him Ellis was fondling Mya, who
was glad that little business earlier was over before
they got down to this; he had apologised profusely and
gone to the bathroom (it happened from time to time;
the ladies there had all experienced it).
"Hang on - he went to the toilet, you said?" the
officer interrupted. "About what time?"
"Around a quarter past one, I think," Mya said. "He
didn't go again after that time - he left about an
hour after the other guy left for good."
"You mean Peter Hobbs?"
"Got it in one."
"Around what time was that?"
"About ten to two."
"Precise."
"We need to keep track of time for our records and in
case the clients go over the limit. We're not in this
just for the love of it, honey," Mya smiled.
* * * * * * * * * *
Peter Hobbs had known he would be questioned sooner or
later. Not only had he definitely been out during the
time his son had been poisoned, but when he and his
friend Ellis had arrived at Cindy Inc. his son had
already been on the premises and was waiting for him.
He knew it looked bad for him - not only had Ellis not
known Peter Hobbs Version 2.0 was there, but he didn't
even know what his son looked like.
"Now Mr Hobbs," said the officer questioning him,
"would you mind telling us where you went after you
were through with the women?"
"I went down to the bar for a while - you can ask the
lady who was serving that night. I was there drinking,
chatting and thinking for a while - more of the other
two than the drinking. She'll testify to that as
well... I can be a pretty boring talker," Peter
replied calmly. "After a while I went up to her
boudoir."
"Whose boudoir?"
"Cindy Crawford's boudoir. "I went to see my son."
"Not to see..."
"I admit I did feel up Cindy - the opportunity was
there, I took it, I'm not a stupid man you know - but
I didn't touch Laetitia. And I did not kill my son."
The officers believed him, but belief wasn't enough.
* * * * * * * * * *
Laetitia was essentially being held under house arrest
until it was all cleared up, but she wasn't short of
visitors. Most of them were supportive of her, but she
hadn't forgotten the smug look on Tera Patrick's face
- the message was clear: "You might be legit, but I'm
not the one suspected of murder."
"You believe me, don't you?" Laetitia begged Cindy,
who was being kept appraised of what was happening
with the case.
"Of course I do," Cindy replied. "Do you think I'd
keep you here if I didn't?"
"Keeping me in this... this... this carpet-lined
prison is believing me?"
"At least everyone knows where you are..." Cindy let
her voice tail off. "Ellis told the police he had to
put off boning Mya to go to a... pissoir."
"Boning?" Laetitia asked.
Cindy made a familiar motion with the thumb and
forefinger of her left hand and the index finger of
her right. "Ah," Laetitia said, and nodded.
"But why did he have to leave Gwen and Mya's bedroom
to do it?"
This time Cindy didn't have to explain; every boudoir
on the premises had a bathroom built in, along with
changing rooms and all the accessories from condoms to
ticklers. Maybe it was time for them to ask Ellis a
few other questions... she had never had anyone refuse
an invitation for one on the house before.
* * * * * * * * * *
Briana was used to pretending to come on camera, but
doing it on duty was something else again; she was
howling and gnashing as her customer ground away
inside her. She never put it on for the paying folks,
and this man here was trying his best, jammig himself
up her as hard and as fast as he could, licking her
tits and fondling her as he had what had to be his
first porn star fuck.
She gave out her best moans as she thrust back,
thinking she was going to wear down the mattress with
her energy, and waiting to feel the flow deep iside
her snatch... she felt the man quaking above her as he
gripped her tighter, and pumped everything he had into
her, shouting out her name as he changed all the times
he had jacked off to watching her with others into one
very real one-to-one here.
Briana felt the deep glow of satisfaction she had from
a job well done; a glow that would face later when she
checked the Cindy Inc. website to see comments about
herself, and see that the man had written "Not bad,
but I like real breasts like Laetitia's better." It
was the eighth and ninth words that set her off - she
was used to men saying they liked the real thing, but
getting compared to that French murderer was the last
straw.
Which was why she found herself tapping on Laetitia's
door that morning. "Laetitia?" she called out. "Briana
Banks here."
"I know," said the lady on the other side. "You're not
the most modest one here."
"I just want to come in and talk to you," Briana said.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ellis Arnold had decided to sacrifice his lunch hour
to come over to Cindy Inc.; hardly anyone got to come
here on the house (even the last President had had to
pay), but he knew it would be worth it. Cindy had
wined him, dined him and chatted him, and now she was
leading him hand in hand to her own suite. Ellis liked
them in their twenties, but what the hey; it wasn't
like Cindy wasn't getting better with age.
Cindy escorted him inside and indicated that he sit
down; Ellis failed to hide his eagerness as he watched
Cindy start to strip for him to the strains of the
opening music from "Basic Instinct." She did it slowly
and sensuously, not really in time to the music, but
more to capture the mood. Ellis had seen that movie a
number of times, and recognised the music from the
off.
"You know, I don't usually do this without a damn good
reason..." Cindy smiled as she let her shirt slip to
the floor and continued to sway, unzipping her dress.
"Because you like me?" the man asked.
"Actually, I'd love something from you," Cindy said
seductively, sliding out of the dress and stepping
away, showing off her black-bra-and-panties-clad form
and keeping up her moves as she sidled up to him,
knowing her crotch was in line with his face. "Would
you like to finish the job?"
Ellis nodded, tracing his fingers along the front of
Cindy's panties. He could feel the tuft of her pubes
underneath, and he was dying to put his fingers under
the fabric, so he could feel her lovely box for
himself. "I just have to ask you one question..."
Cindy breathed as he started to hook his fingers under
the lining. Man, she was so much better than Sharon
Stone ever was...
"Ask away," the man replied.
"Where did you really go that night Peter Hobbs died?"
Cindy asked casually, and Ellis suddenly felt like
that guy in the first scene of the movie.
* * * * * * * * * *
Briana strolled down the hallway with a satisfied look
on her face; it hadn't taken long in there at all, but
she had done what had to be done. "That's one for us,"
she said to herself, and headed down to the gym to
cool off.
In her quarters, a red-eyed and tear-stained Laetitia
Casta stared in shock at the funnel that was still
protruding from between her legs; she told herself
that Briana Banks hadn't just come in there, pummelled
her into submission, written "DANGER: POISON" on her
jugs with a felt tip, and poured the contents of a can
of Coke into her cunt ("You need to be washed out by
something all-American, you evil French bitch!" Briana
snarled as she let it flow - the frightened Laetitia
chose not to point out that Briana came from Germany),
stepping on her stomach as she left the sobbing woman.
"Damnez-vous * l'enfer, Bush," Laetitia whispered. She
wouldn't give Briana the satisfaction of saying "Damn
you to hell, Bush" in the language BB preferred.
* * * * * * * * * *
"I had to go to the toilet," Ellis insisted. "I told
it to the cops, and I'm telling it to you."
Ellis and Cindy were no longer alone - Cindy had given
in to her Jessica Fletcher tendencies and summoned all
the people involved together, except for Laetitia, who
had locked herself in her room and was refusing to
come out. Peter had also come down, and was watching
Ellis with interest. The women were also eyeing Ellis,
especially Gwen, who had found something almost creepy
about the way he had been studying her and Mya.
"I just didn't know there was a toilet in her room,"
Ellis insisted.
"Oh come on, you've been here before!" Gwen shouted.
"You've been with ME before; I've still got the marks
from last time - "
"Gwen, this isn't about you," Tera interrupted. "But
she's right," she continued, turning to Ellis, "you've
been here before, you must have known there's
everything you need right to hand. And Cindy," she
finished, facing the boss, "I'm willing to bet he was
the guy I heard while I was prepping myself."
Prepping herself for her next trick, that is. Tera
liked to be in the mood all the time while she was on
duty; she was on her hands and knees at the time,
luxuriating in the carpet under her, and that of Erica
Campbell. Not in the flesh unfortunately, but a
realistically-designed doll with her face taped to the
front (it would do until the nude model herself
visited the next time). Tera licked "Erica's"
faux-cunt while slowly working the next one in her
series of buttplugs into herself; she was trying to
find the biggest size she could take without it
disappearing up her and necessitating a(nother) trip
to the hospital. She felt each inch work its way up
her chute and winced as it was stretched further each
time; this was an effort now. Maybe she had better
stop before she found herself with a Naomi Campbell on
her hands - Molly Sims had joked on the night of her
recruitment that one of her first clients had left her
with a bigger asshole than Naomi Campbell, and the
name had stuck.
Tera slowly started to pull the plug out, letting out
a low "Aaaaaahhhhh..." as the pressure on her anus
eased up. As she did so, she heard someone passing by
outside. Not running or anything, just walking
steadily. Which was weird; people weren't usually up
around in this part of the building this late. In
other parts, yes, but this was the bedroom area.
She heard a door open, and some minutes later the
familiar sound of a flush. "Ah," Tera said to herself.
It happened sometimes. Her nosiness satisfied, she had
returned to munching on "Erica."
"You see?" Ellis said triumphantly. "I DID go!"
"You had to leave a place with its own toilet to go to
another place that did?" Mya asked. "And where were
you again, TP?"
"Somewhere between where you and Miss
Pretty-Hot-For-Someone-With-No-Tits were," Tera
answered, ignoring Gwen's murderous glance, "and where
Casta and the boss were. Actually, the flush came from
somewhere pretty close to where Cindy was."
"Is that a fact," Cindy said, looking at Ellis. "You
don't know what time it was, do you?"
"I don't know..." Tera thought for a moment. "It might
have been about 1:30."
"And you didn't hear running... and it would take
about twenty minutes to do the round trip between our
place and Gwen'n'Mya..."
"I don't have to tell you what I was flushing..."
Ellis started.
"Why would we think you were flushing anything apart
from... you know?" Cindy asked. "Unless there's
something you want to tell us?"
"I don't have to tell you anything," Ellis flustered.
"Unless you've suddenly become a cop. You want to talk
to somebody, talk to that Gallic cunt - the one that
Hobbs' kid liked fucking so much."
"And so did you," said a calm Laetitia Casta from the
doorway. She still looked a little shaken, but her
eyes were clear, and her head was held high. She
looked directly at Ellis and nodded in recognition.
"You were in our room that night."
"What are you talking about?" Ellis asked as Laetitia
came into the room.
"Don't try and deny it," she parried. "You were the
one who was touching me after Peter fell asleep... I
thought it was him at first. But whoever it was who
had me had a smaller penis than he did. And rougher
hands than he did. And worse breath than he did." By
now she had her face right next to Ellis. "And Peter
called me a lot of things that night, but he never,
ever went [and she then adopted a mannish,
American-accented voice] 'Oh yeah, how do you like
this grade A meat, you Gallic cunt?' Does that sound
familiar, Mr. Arnold? Or did you think - "
"YOU WERE ASLEEP!" Ellis shouted, and the penny
dropped for all.
"I was faking it," Laetitia said quietly. "You must be
used to women doing that with you."
"Fuck off back to Frogland - no, go back to England,
you'll fit right in with those bad teeth."
"At least they're real," Mya retorted. "Like your
caps, Ellie."
"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" Ellis yelled. "What the
frigging hell is WRONG with all of you? Especially
you, Crawford - I can't believe you actually let
this... this... this refugee from the land of stuck-up
appeasers hang around here!"
"So that was what this was about?" Peter asked. "You
don't like Laetitia because she's French?"
"You're goddamned right I don't," his colleague
breathed. "Bunch of - "
"Cheese-eating surrender monkeys, I have heard it all
before," Laetitia interrupted. "You're lucky we
haven't fired a missile from the Eiffel Tower at you,
you... slack-jawed yokel?"
"Got it in one," Cindy smiled, as Gwen started to
summon the police. "Make yourself at home, Mr. Arnold.
It'll be a while before the boys in blue arrive."
"Maybe Laetitia'll give you a blowjob to pass the
time," Gwen suggested. "She's really good."
Ellis was silent. He told himself he had butt-fucked
Laetitia out of contempt for her and her country, not
because she was so sexy and gorgeous. He kept telling
himself this as Miss Casta unzipped his trousers,
studied his prick in her hand, opened her mouth, and
began to give him his real punishment - long after he
would be released from prison, and for the rest of his
life, he would remember that the best blowjob he ever
had came from a fucking Frenchwoman.
* * * * * * * * * *
The poison had been injected into Peter's calf at an
angle that indicated it was from someone standing next
to the bed; both Cindy and Laetitia's testimonies made
it clear that they were both in bed at the time. Plus
some traces of the poison that Ellis had flushed down
the toilet were still in the water that it found its
way into, and to cap it all there were a few prints on
the syringes they'd found in Laetitia's quarters. All
his. Making him both xenophobic and stupid.
Ellis had never been too fond of the French, and
recent world events had intensified his dislike even
more. Ellis had also not been too fond of Peter Hobbs:
The Next Generation for being a Francophile. "He
thought my son was a traitor," Hobbs: The Original
told Cindy some time later. "I'm not a great admirer
of France myself, but I never stood in the way of my
son's wishes, unless it hurt him. There was the time
he wanted to go climbing in New Zealand without
oxygen..."
"That's children for you," Cindy said.
"So Ellis... he killed my son because he hated France
and everything linked to it."
"And he tried to frame Laetitia for it - he must have
found out about the time you and her were together. He
did his research, I'll give the bastard that much...
why are you looking at me that way?"
"It's just that it's strange hearing you say
'Bastard.'"
"You should hear me during rush hour," Cindy laughed.
"The funny thing is, he actually did my son a
favour... Pete started complaining that he was ill
earlier this year; took him to several doctors, all
agreed that it was the same thing..." Hobbs' voice
tailed off, and Cindy didn't pursue the matter. "There
was nothing any of them could do. I knew he had a
massive crush on Laetitia Casta, so..."
"Yes. I know."
"Where's Miss Casta? I want to thank her. For giving
Pete a happy last night."
"She's delivering a message," Cindy told him. "Ellis
Arnold's not the only one who needs a lesson..."
* * * * * * * * * *
"Hi, Briana?" Laetitia said to her colleague in the
shower.
"What do you want, Casta?"
"You're fired. Effective immediately."
Briana dropped the soap she was holding and stared at
Laetitia, smiling back at her through the water.
"I'm... WHAT?!"
"I told Cindy about your little exhibition the other
day," Laetitia explained. "She was furious... she
wanted to call you in there on the spot..."
"That doesn't give you the right to give me the axe,
you little snot!"
"Not in itself, no," Laetitia agreed.
"I'm going to go and talk to the boss right now - "
"Why bother? She said I could give you the message
myself; said it would serve you right." Laetitia
pressed her real breasts against Briana's silicone
sacks and French-kissed her departing rival. "As they
say here, don't let the door hit you in the ass on the
way out."
Briana's face contorted in disgust, and she ran out of
the shower, as a contented Laetitia picked up the soap
and started to lather herself.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Are you sure you want to go there, sir?" asked
John Casablancas' chauffeur.
"Yes, very sure," said the head of Elite. "I might as
well pay one of my protegees a visit."
"Yes, sir," the chauffeur said instead of "Oh for
God's sake man, you didn't CREATE her!" or words to
that effect going through his head. Like most of
Cindy's (and other models') fans, he was sick and
tired of his boss telling everyone under the sun that
they wouldn't have made it if it hadn't been for him,
but as long as he was driving for the big-headed fat
fucker he had no option but to keep his mouth shut.
"Unless she's banned me?" he asked.
"No - no one's banned without doing something first.
Not even her dad."
"Avaricious little bitch," Casablancas chuckled.
"Still, I think it's time she paid me back for all I
did for her..."
supermodel, mother and celebrity bordello owner. The
conduct of the celebs herein is not intended to
represent their actual behaviour; this isn't for
under-18s; and any praise, complaints or whatever to
go on the message boards or to
cindylover1969@yahoo.co.uk. (And note to the people
who put the stories up: it's Laetitia. Not Laetita,
L-A-E-T-I-T-I-A.)
* * * * * * * * *
With the successful launch of the London branch and
the end of the 3AM Girls behind her, Cindy Crawford
thought that it had all been a very good trip all
told. Okay, she had lost Natalie Portman, but she had
gained some more people. All the better for one
forthcoming client.
And best of all, Laetitia Casta had arrived in Malibu
the same day Cindy got back, in order to take up her
week's residency at Cindy Inc.; she had time before
shooting started on her next movie. Cindy murmured to
herself happily as she lay in her palatial bed on
site, and thought about the previous night. He had
paid a lot to have the two of them together, and she
and Laetitia had done their best to give satisfaction.
And there he was, lying there between the two of them.
Cindy studied him, absolutely worn out, and craned
over to see the faces of the man and Laetitia. The
French model/actress looked heavenly asleep, slow
steady breathing as she slumbered, heavy chest rising
and falling rhythmically...
It suddenly occurred to Cindy that the man wasn't
breathing. He was lying there, only a few years
younger than Laetitia; he looked perfectly healthy and
fast asleep except for the fact that he wasn't moving.
Cindy clambered over to the man, hoping she wouldn't
wake the French woman before she had to, and felt for
his pulse; nothing. She put her fingers under his nose
in case there was anything like breathing... nothing.
"Shit..." she moaned in fear. The son of one of their
wealthiest clients had died in her bed. It was time to
wake up Laetitia.
* * * * * * * * * *
Laetitia had been the first one to be awakened,
followed by the other women. Cindy Inc. was normally a
relatively clean place - you got your rough customers
(from the S&M freaks to the ones who liked it really
nasty - at least three of the women had found
themselves performing bodily functions on customers),
but nothing like this had happened before.
As Cindy and the other women on duty that night
gathered and waited for the police to arrive, the
quaking Miss Casta was the centre of attention, not
all of it horrified.
"I gotta hand it to you, LC," Tera Patrick chuckled,
"even I'm not good enough to fuck a man to death."
"Oh for the love of God, give it a rest!" Gwen Stefani
shouted. "This shit could close us down..."
"Yeah, right. Like River Phoenix's death shut down the
Viper Room," Mya pointed out.
"It was probably just one of those things," Cindy
suggested. "Come on Laetitia, it wasn't your fault...
try and tell us what happened, straighten it out in
your mind before the cops get here."
"A drink might help," Laetitia suggested, still
jittery but glad they were in close proximity to a
liquor cabinet. Cindy took it on herself to pour the
Frenchwoman some brandy and, on seeing Gwen's
expectant look, some Scotch for the No Doubt singer as
well. Handing them their drinks and asking if anyone
else wanted some (no), she watched Laetitia down the
booze.
"All right," she said. "I was waiting to get the
all-clear signal from you..."
It was an unwritten but unviolable rule at Cindy Inc.
that no one EVER interrupted the ladies at work except
in the most extreme circumstances. It was true that
Peter Hobbs Sr. had arranged for Peter Hobbs Jr. to be
with both Cindy and Laetitia that evening, but they
had agreed that Peter would be with the older woman
first, then go with LC (who Master Hobbs admitted to
preferring - Cindy had understood; Laetitia was closer
to his own age after all), then go with the two of
them. "He's never done it before," the businessman had
explained. "I figured that he may as well get it from
a reputable source."
Laetitia was glad that there was some time between her
last client and this one - she had needed time to get
the woman's pubes out of her mouth (not to mention the
taste - unfortunately said woman had a penchant for
water sports), and she was now all freshened up and
ready. Behind the velvet door she heard Hobbs the
Younger's howls and cries and protestations of love
and devotion, etc, etc., and chuckled to herself -
Cindy was on form tonight. "It must be a blowjob," she
thought to herself in French. "It's always the head
that does it." The red light above the door lit up; it
was safe for her to go in. "Showtime," she said to
herself, and entered.
Peter Hobbs was lying on the large but rumpled bed,
his medium-sized cock still stiff but starting to
soften. Besides him, Cindy Crawford stroked his chest,
a few white drops still on her lips. "Now that wasn't
so bad, was it?" she asked him tenderly, his thrilled
expression saying it all. "But here's someone who'll
make you even happier... over there?" The lad turned
to see the model/actress standing by the bed, smiling
down at him in the nude. Both Laetitia and Cindy
spotted his cock rising up almost at once; that was
the nice thing about sex with boys, they reloaded
quickly. The trouble was that they usually finished
quickly as well...
"I'll leave you two alone," Cindy said, climbing off
the bed. "I'll be back whenever you're ready." She
gently kissed Laetitia on the lips, whispered "See you
later," and left the two alone.
"Are you and her...?" Peter asked as Laetitia joined
him.
"Sometimes," Laetitia answered, softly fondling him as
he started to touch her. She could sense he was still
slightly nervous at being with a woman, even though he
had just been alone with Cindy C. "Don't worry, I
still like men."
Peter liked the implication that he was a man. He
liked the warm, soft lady that was next to him even
more; she was definitely not skinny. There was a lot
of woman to Laetitia, and he enjoyed touching her -
the more he explored, the more at ease he felt. As he
roamed her comfortable tits and ran his fingers
through her wonderfully hirsute cunt, Peter was
thrilled to find that she wasn't hurrying him along;
this was everything he had hoped it would be. Calm,
gentle, and fun. He kissed her, feeling her jagged
tooth with his tongue; she still hadn't had them
capped. He didn't mind, however - Laetitia had too
much else going for her.
Laetitia nipped his chest lightly as she caressed him,
finding his stiffy and gently stroking it. "Are you
ready for another one?" she asked.
"Only if you want to," he answered, and the woman gave
him a small smile - he could have ordered her to do
it, he was the customer. In any case, she did want to;
she moved down his body, letting him feel her nipples
rubbing his chest, until she was facing his prick. "I
hope Cindy left some for me," she told Peter, and
opened wide. Peter's eyes also opened wide as
Laetitia's wet mouth took in his cock; Cindy Inc.
always charged extra for Laetitia Casta's blowjobs,
but his dad had assured him it would be worth the
extra $150. He was right... Laetitia combined both
youthful energy and expertise, and the little flicks
with her tongue she gave his balls were lovely
garnishes to the experience. He had seen that movie
where she played a prostitute, but the real thing was
even better. She was feeling his erection almost to
the back of her throat, and really sounding like she
was enjoying it.
Peter found, to his delight, that he DID have some
left for Laetitia.
He was soon holding her tight again, his hands
clutching her fragrant flesh and wondering what it
would be like to be inside her, even with a condom (it
had been his idea, not his father's). With the tip of
one of Laetitia's huge tits filling his mouth, he
couldn't wait to find out; and the best thing was,
even if he couldn't get into Miss Casta he had a
backup. Said backup - Cindy Crawford - was behind him,
rubbing her well-trimmed box against his rump and
kissing his back and neck while he greedily sucked
Laetitia's jugs. Peter fondly cast his mind back to
Cindy's beautiful breasts; who'd have thought these
two gorgeous ladies had three children between them?
Cindy pressed her form against his back, massaging him
with her entire body while he tasted the soft French
woman under him. She waited for him to ask if she and
Laetitia could make love while he watched - it had
happened before - and was surprised when he never did.
Kissing him all the way down, she was also grateful;
it was a change for a guy to not demand the old
lesbian act occasionally. Peter was fully mounted on
Laetitia, and Cindy was now facing his buttocks; she
had a crystal clear view of his erection poised just
above Laetitia's snatch, and watched him push it
inside her. It was almost like watching a porn movie
in 3-D; she could actually hear the sliding sounds of
Peter's meat slithering along Laetitia's wet opening,
with only their groans for accompaniment.
Cindy carefully moved back up while the two pumped
away at each other, and spread Peter's buns, deciding
to give him some oral stimulus. Not that he needed
any, she noticed as she moved her head down - he
looked like he could fill her up without any help...
but she did notice a quickening of his grinding as she
slipped her tongue up Peter's asshole. Cindy rolled
her tongue around in there as the couple beneath her
sped up, Laetitia starting to curse in French the way
she did each time Cindy ate HER ass out. The weird
thing was, it still sounded romantic...
An hour later, the three of them lay there; they had
been having a little post-sex talk. Cindy had fallen
asleep first, with Peter having conked out shortly
afterwards. Laetitia was having difficulty keeping her
eyes open herself, and she thought she might as well
go with it... she shut her eyes and waited for sleep
to come, and that was when she felt the fingers.
Laetitia didn't let on that she knew he was touching
her up, slowly stroking her while he thought she was
asleep. she (Laetitia) had felt him fondling her,
saying nothing but little murmurs of satisfaction as
he probed her.
Laetitia lay there, still with her eyes shut, not
daring to do anything. Not even when she felt herself
being rolled onto her front. Not even when she felt
her legs being pulled up into the air. And not even
when she felt her buttocks being spread apart, and
something smeared onto the hole between. She bit down
into the pillow, praying that it wouldn't be a replay
of the time she had been with that boy who just jammed
it inside her and left her aching for a week.
Thankfully, it wasn't.
"And that was it," Laetitia finished. "He fucked me up
the butt while I was pretending to be asleep, he went
back to sleep, and that was it."
"Well, at least he died happy," Mya said with a wry
look on her face, as the officers came in. Laetitia
sighed - she would have to tell it all over again.
Cindy also sighed - who knew how long it would be
before the cops would be through here...
It was several hours before the cops were all through,
but they were thankful that it was before Cindy Inc.
was due to open for business. The police did warn
Cindy that they might have to come back, but "That's
to be expected," Cindy smiled. (Besides, she herself
had personally entertained some of the boys in blue on
occasion.) "See you all later..."
* * * * * * * * * *
"What can I do for you, officers?" Cindy asked the
very next evening as she welcomed them into her
office.
"Actually, ma'am, it's not so much what you can do for
me as one of your women," said the older half of the
pair of policemen, the pair who had been first on the
scene that night.
"It's Laetitia Casta. We think she might be able to
help us with the Hobbs business," the younger officer
added.
"Okay... but she told you everything," Cindy replied,
as she buzzed Laetitia.
"Not quite, ma'am," said the younger officer, not
entirely accustomed to this moment. "The coroner
found..."
"Yes?"
"...that someone had given him a dose."
"Oh God..." Cindy replied in shock. "Oh dear Lord...
he was murdered?"
"And so far as we know, you and Miss Casta were the
only other ones in the room around that time."
"But why do you only want to talk to Laetitia? Why not
me?"
"Because we found something interesting in that room
among her stuff; some hypodermic needles," the older
officer answered as Laetitia entered, saw Cindy and
the policemen, and instantly knew what was happening.
"No trace of the stuff that killed him, but..."
As if the broken-voiced calls from Gloria Hobbs
demanding to speak to the woman who killed her son
hadn't been bad enough.
* * * * * * * * * *
Because Cindy had been known to do the odd... um...
favour for the Chief of Police, the word spread
throughout the department that if anything got out to
the press about the trouble Laetitia was in, the
person or persons responsible would suddenly be
demoted all the way down to unemployment. So no one
said anything openly - but privately one or two of
them had already tried and convicted Laetitia of the
crime. True, she hadn't been officially charged, but
she was a foreigner, and worse than that a FRENCH
foreigner. And everyone knew what they were like...
While Laetitia waited in a separate cubicle for her
boss, Cindy made her own statement. It was identical
to Laetitia's in nearly every respect - "I'd been
pretty busy that night, and Peter was my last job of
the evening... I was pretty tired after I'd finished,
so I just zonked out and left him and Laetitia to it.
But I did wake up for a bit later on..."
Or rather, someone had woken her up. Someone's
fingers, moving in circles on her back. Cindy had been
asleep for about an hour by then, but still not deep
enough to avoid being woken up by the massage she was
getting.
She blearily opened her eyes, and considered turning
over to give Peter a surprise - nah, let him play with
her. Unlike Laetitia, she was lying on her front so he
couldn't get at her tits; but he could still play with
her ass. Cindy let a lazy smile spread across her face
as she felt the first of several affectionate smacks
land on her behind, and her gaze wandered to the
bedside clock - it was always useful if she was witha
client who went with the hourly rate instead of the
flat fee.
"It was about 3:00 in the morning," Cindy finished.
"You're sure about that?" the older officer asked.
"Positive."
* * * * * * * * * *
"So if my girl Cindy's telling the truth..." the older
officer would later say.
"Your girl Cindy?" the younger officer would
interrupt.
"Well, anyway," the older officer would hurriedly
continue, "if she's telling the truth it would mean
that someone else apart from Cindy C, the frog and the
kid was in that room."
"Why?"
"Because the stuff that was in the Hobbs kid takes
between one and two hours to work. Think about it -
the guy goes in there, gives the kid the jab, decides
not to let some quality flesh go to waste and has
himself a free fuck; buggers the Frog first, then does
Cindy."
"Or vice versa."
"Whatever. The point is, maybe the Frog didn't do it."
"Why do you keep calling her that?"
"I call them how I see them," the older officer
replied. "Cindy may be a celebrity whore, but she's
one of ours."
The younger officer didn't say anything.
"Or maybe Casta DID do it. She said she was buttfucked
but with the ass on her, she probably gets cocks up it
at every chance; she gives him the air and gives Cindy
a paddling..."
"Cindy said he jacked off on her ass," the younger
officer interrupted. "How do you explain that? And why
would Laetitia want to kill him anyway?"
* * * * * * * * * *
"Actually, it wasn't the first time she's been with
that family," Briana Banks confided.
"Really?" asked Asia Carrera.
"Do tell," Tera Patrick urged.
Even though more porn actresses were working at Cindy
Inc., and even though Cindy herself had gotten over
the tinges of snobbery she had once had over using
them, there was still some cliquery in the ranks, a
definite touch of "them against us" (though not quite
to the extent of J-Lo's, where Sarah Michelle Gellar,
Heather Locklear and Ashley Judd had actually quit
when the boss had informed them that a) the likes of
Ashlyn Gere and Kylie Ireland were staying around and
b) that they were actually more often requested than
some "proper" celebs - Cindy had laughed for hours on
hearing that Jennifer Lopez had actually BEGGED her
more-gifted-thespically colleagues to come back).
"You didn't hear this from me," Briana assured them,
"but Laetitia was with the Hobbses in the French
branch when they were there on business. I was there
too that night, in a pairing with the dad - he likes
group sex. Anyway, he had Miss Jugs bouncing on his
cock like nobody's business, and I was doing the kid;
and he goes and yells that I'm better than her."
"And were you?" asked Tera.
"Of course I am!" Briana cackled. "The look on
Laetitia's face... you could tell she was ready to
kill."
"And she hated him that much? Come on..." Asia argued.
"Hey, she's a model and she's French. Humiliated by a
porn star... Crime passionel, you know?"
* * * * * * * * * *
"Sorry we had to keep you waiting for so long," the
officer said to Gwen Stefani.
"Don't sweat it; it's called saving the best for
last," laughed Gwen, unaware that Mya was saying
exactly the same thing to the officer talking to her.
All the other women on the premises that night had
been interviewed, but had turned up precisely zilch.
"So what do you want to know?"
"Just tell us what you did last night," the officer
said to Mya Harrison, who gave him a knowing look.
"Aren't you a little young for that kind of thing?"
she asked, twirling the cigarette between her fingers.
"No games, please. We've all had a long night."
Mya nodded and stubbed out the cigarette. "Okay,
here's what it was like. Me and Gwen were a team that
night - ebony and ivory, together in perfect harmony.
Except I'd take Gwen Stefani over Paul McCartney any
day," she laughed.
"You and me both," the officer couldn't help saying.
"Go on..."
Ellis Arnold stood there, his eyes fixed on Mya as she
embraced Gwen; Mya enjoyed the fact that she had
bigger breasts than Gwen, but she enjoyed rubbing her
own jugs against the white girl's even more. Gwen's
body was heavenly; tight and rippling, fun to watch
and even better to stroke. She French-kissed Gwen and
pinched her, wondering how Ellis was liking it.
He was LOVING it; the no-camera rule meant he couldn't
get any pictures of Gwen's pale hands on Mya's
chocolate rump, so he stared closely at Miss Stefani
rubbing Mya's juicy buttcheeks. He looked even closer
as Gwen spread them apart, exposing her dark holes for
him to see. As Mya writhed on top of her, Gwen slipped
the middle finger of her left hand into Mya's puckered
anus, and the one on the right into her open cunt, and
began to work her in both openings at once. Ellis
started to work himself as they rolled over; like a
lot of smaller-breasted women (including Cindy Inc's
own Shakira and J-Lo's Sandra Bullock), Gwen Stefani
made up below what she didn't have up top. Now she was
up top of Mya in both senses, though Mya's "oooohs"
and "aaaaahs" were still coming through loud and clear
- Gwen had one of the loveliest asses in
entertainment, and to his delight Ellis saw Mya's long
fingers fucking her undoubtedly well-cored butt.
He thrust away on his cock with increased intensity as
he listened to the two women grunt and curse while
they explored each other, Gwen kissing Mya's tits
while the black singer bit the white singer's shoulder
with passion. Gwen spread Mya's legs apart and the
latter swiveled herself so Ellis was looking directly
between her legs. "You won't see THIS in 'Maxim,'" she
grinned, and pulled Gwen between her legs; Mya started
to pant almost at once. Ellis thought to herself that
she had to be putting it on - Gwen couldn't be that
good...
Ellis's cock was hurting watching the blonde's head
moving inside Mya's muff; all shaved (Gwen didn't like
hairy cunts, which was one reason why she hoped she'd
never be with Elizabeth "The Naked Jungle" Hurley) and
tasty. He moved in, partly for a closer look at Gwen's
tongue inside Mya's slit, and partly because he wanted
to decorate Miss Harrison's splendid tits with his
come. Mya was playing with said boobs as he and the
other man, similarly thrilled, stood next to her,
their cocks over her head. She threw it back and
yelled as Gwen flicked her little clit with her
tongue, and received the first dose of cum right in
her open mouth as the two men pulled - the mix of dark
nipple and white come had them thrusting even harder,
splashing out over Mya's torso as she jerked on the
bed under Gwen's hungry mouth.
Then Ellis Arnold and Peter Hobbs Sr used their
recharging cocks to wipe the semen over Mya's breasts
until they were shining.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Hobbs Sr? The dad was there too?"
"Yeah," Gwen answered. "We get more fathers coming in
with their sons than you'd think. Sometimes we even
get relatives of some of our own coming in; just gotta
be careful that we don't have the actual ladies on
duty that night. The dads usually go for different
women to the sons - ain't too many kids want their
daddy's sloppy seconds," she added with a laugh. "Plus
most of them go for separate rooms."
"Obviously. So what happened then?"
What happened then was that a reloaded Peter couldn't
see too clearly. Because he had Gwen Stefani's pussy
on his face, and she was riding him while whooping
like a demented cowgirl. He couldn't see her gorgeous
little tits, but he knew they were there - he could
tell she'd had a lot of visitors to her snatch; loose,
but still snug. She took care of what she had below.
While he smelt Gwen's pussy and started to nudge his
tongue inside, next to him Ellis was fondling Mya, who
was glad that little business earlier was over before
they got down to this; he had apologised profusely and
gone to the bathroom (it happened from time to time;
the ladies there had all experienced it).
"Hang on - he went to the toilet, you said?" the
officer interrupted. "About what time?"
"Around a quarter past one, I think," Mya said. "He
didn't go again after that time - he left about an
hour after the other guy left for good."
"You mean Peter Hobbs?"
"Got it in one."
"Around what time was that?"
"About ten to two."
"Precise."
"We need to keep track of time for our records and in
case the clients go over the limit. We're not in this
just for the love of it, honey," Mya smiled.
* * * * * * * * * *
Peter Hobbs had known he would be questioned sooner or
later. Not only had he definitely been out during the
time his son had been poisoned, but when he and his
friend Ellis had arrived at Cindy Inc. his son had
already been on the premises and was waiting for him.
He knew it looked bad for him - not only had Ellis not
known Peter Hobbs Version 2.0 was there, but he didn't
even know what his son looked like.
"Now Mr Hobbs," said the officer questioning him,
"would you mind telling us where you went after you
were through with the women?"
"I went down to the bar for a while - you can ask the
lady who was serving that night. I was there drinking,
chatting and thinking for a while - more of the other
two than the drinking. She'll testify to that as
well... I can be a pretty boring talker," Peter
replied calmly. "After a while I went up to her
boudoir."
"Whose boudoir?"
"Cindy Crawford's boudoir. "I went to see my son."
"Not to see..."
"I admit I did feel up Cindy - the opportunity was
there, I took it, I'm not a stupid man you know - but
I didn't touch Laetitia. And I did not kill my son."
The officers believed him, but belief wasn't enough.
* * * * * * * * * *
Laetitia was essentially being held under house arrest
until it was all cleared up, but she wasn't short of
visitors. Most of them were supportive of her, but she
hadn't forgotten the smug look on Tera Patrick's face
- the message was clear: "You might be legit, but I'm
not the one suspected of murder."
"You believe me, don't you?" Laetitia begged Cindy,
who was being kept appraised of what was happening
with the case.
"Of course I do," Cindy replied. "Do you think I'd
keep you here if I didn't?"
"Keeping me in this... this... this carpet-lined
prison is believing me?"
"At least everyone knows where you are..." Cindy let
her voice tail off. "Ellis told the police he had to
put off boning Mya to go to a... pissoir."
"Boning?" Laetitia asked.
Cindy made a familiar motion with the thumb and
forefinger of her left hand and the index finger of
her right. "Ah," Laetitia said, and nodded.
"But why did he have to leave Gwen and Mya's bedroom
to do it?"
This time Cindy didn't have to explain; every boudoir
on the premises had a bathroom built in, along with
changing rooms and all the accessories from condoms to
ticklers. Maybe it was time for them to ask Ellis a
few other questions... she had never had anyone refuse
an invitation for one on the house before.
* * * * * * * * * *
Briana was used to pretending to come on camera, but
doing it on duty was something else again; she was
howling and gnashing as her customer ground away
inside her. She never put it on for the paying folks,
and this man here was trying his best, jammig himself
up her as hard and as fast as he could, licking her
tits and fondling her as he had what had to be his
first porn star fuck.
She gave out her best moans as she thrust back,
thinking she was going to wear down the mattress with
her energy, and waiting to feel the flow deep iside
her snatch... she felt the man quaking above her as he
gripped her tighter, and pumped everything he had into
her, shouting out her name as he changed all the times
he had jacked off to watching her with others into one
very real one-to-one here.
Briana felt the deep glow of satisfaction she had from
a job well done; a glow that would face later when she
checked the Cindy Inc. website to see comments about
herself, and see that the man had written "Not bad,
but I like real breasts like Laetitia's better." It
was the eighth and ninth words that set her off - she
was used to men saying they liked the real thing, but
getting compared to that French murderer was the last
straw.
Which was why she found herself tapping on Laetitia's
door that morning. "Laetitia?" she called out. "Briana
Banks here."
"I know," said the lady on the other side. "You're not
the most modest one here."
"I just want to come in and talk to you," Briana said.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ellis Arnold had decided to sacrifice his lunch hour
to come over to Cindy Inc.; hardly anyone got to come
here on the house (even the last President had had to
pay), but he knew it would be worth it. Cindy had
wined him, dined him and chatted him, and now she was
leading him hand in hand to her own suite. Ellis liked
them in their twenties, but what the hey; it wasn't
like Cindy wasn't getting better with age.
Cindy escorted him inside and indicated that he sit
down; Ellis failed to hide his eagerness as he watched
Cindy start to strip for him to the strains of the
opening music from "Basic Instinct." She did it slowly
and sensuously, not really in time to the music, but
more to capture the mood. Ellis had seen that movie a
number of times, and recognised the music from the
off.
"You know, I don't usually do this without a damn good
reason..." Cindy smiled as she let her shirt slip to
the floor and continued to sway, unzipping her dress.
"Because you like me?" the man asked.
"Actually, I'd love something from you," Cindy said
seductively, sliding out of the dress and stepping
away, showing off her black-bra-and-panties-clad form
and keeping up her moves as she sidled up to him,
knowing her crotch was in line with his face. "Would
you like to finish the job?"
Ellis nodded, tracing his fingers along the front of
Cindy's panties. He could feel the tuft of her pubes
underneath, and he was dying to put his fingers under
the fabric, so he could feel her lovely box for
himself. "I just have to ask you one question..."
Cindy breathed as he started to hook his fingers under
the lining. Man, she was so much better than Sharon
Stone ever was...
"Ask away," the man replied.
"Where did you really go that night Peter Hobbs died?"
Cindy asked casually, and Ellis suddenly felt like
that guy in the first scene of the movie.
* * * * * * * * * *
Briana strolled down the hallway with a satisfied look
on her face; it hadn't taken long in there at all, but
she had done what had to be done. "That's one for us,"
she said to herself, and headed down to the gym to
cool off.
In her quarters, a red-eyed and tear-stained Laetitia
Casta stared in shock at the funnel that was still
protruding from between her legs; she told herself
that Briana Banks hadn't just come in there, pummelled
her into submission, written "DANGER: POISON" on her
jugs with a felt tip, and poured the contents of a can
of Coke into her cunt ("You need to be washed out by
something all-American, you evil French bitch!" Briana
snarled as she let it flow - the frightened Laetitia
chose not to point out that Briana came from Germany),
stepping on her stomach as she left the sobbing woman.
"Damnez-vous * l'enfer, Bush," Laetitia whispered. She
wouldn't give Briana the satisfaction of saying "Damn
you to hell, Bush" in the language BB preferred.
* * * * * * * * * *
"I had to go to the toilet," Ellis insisted. "I told
it to the cops, and I'm telling it to you."
Ellis and Cindy were no longer alone - Cindy had given
in to her Jessica Fletcher tendencies and summoned all
the people involved together, except for Laetitia, who
had locked herself in her room and was refusing to
come out. Peter had also come down, and was watching
Ellis with interest. The women were also eyeing Ellis,
especially Gwen, who had found something almost creepy
about the way he had been studying her and Mya.
"I just didn't know there was a toilet in her room,"
Ellis insisted.
"Oh come on, you've been here before!" Gwen shouted.
"You've been with ME before; I've still got the marks
from last time - "
"Gwen, this isn't about you," Tera interrupted. "But
she's right," she continued, turning to Ellis, "you've
been here before, you must have known there's
everything you need right to hand. And Cindy," she
finished, facing the boss, "I'm willing to bet he was
the guy I heard while I was prepping myself."
Prepping herself for her next trick, that is. Tera
liked to be in the mood all the time while she was on
duty; she was on her hands and knees at the time,
luxuriating in the carpet under her, and that of Erica
Campbell. Not in the flesh unfortunately, but a
realistically-designed doll with her face taped to the
front (it would do until the nude model herself
visited the next time). Tera licked "Erica's"
faux-cunt while slowly working the next one in her
series of buttplugs into herself; she was trying to
find the biggest size she could take without it
disappearing up her and necessitating a(nother) trip
to the hospital. She felt each inch work its way up
her chute and winced as it was stretched further each
time; this was an effort now. Maybe she had better
stop before she found herself with a Naomi Campbell on
her hands - Molly Sims had joked on the night of her
recruitment that one of her first clients had left her
with a bigger asshole than Naomi Campbell, and the
name had stuck.
Tera slowly started to pull the plug out, letting out
a low "Aaaaaahhhhh..." as the pressure on her anus
eased up. As she did so, she heard someone passing by
outside. Not running or anything, just walking
steadily. Which was weird; people weren't usually up
around in this part of the building this late. In
other parts, yes, but this was the bedroom area.
She heard a door open, and some minutes later the
familiar sound of a flush. "Ah," Tera said to herself.
It happened sometimes. Her nosiness satisfied, she had
returned to munching on "Erica."
"You see?" Ellis said triumphantly. "I DID go!"
"You had to leave a place with its own toilet to go to
another place that did?" Mya asked. "And where were
you again, TP?"
"Somewhere between where you and Miss
Pretty-Hot-For-Someone-With-No-Tits were," Tera
answered, ignoring Gwen's murderous glance, "and where
Casta and the boss were. Actually, the flush came from
somewhere pretty close to where Cindy was."
"Is that a fact," Cindy said, looking at Ellis. "You
don't know what time it was, do you?"
"I don't know..." Tera thought for a moment. "It might
have been about 1:30."
"And you didn't hear running... and it would take
about twenty minutes to do the round trip between our
place and Gwen'n'Mya..."
"I don't have to tell you what I was flushing..."
Ellis started.
"Why would we think you were flushing anything apart
from... you know?" Cindy asked. "Unless there's
something you want to tell us?"
"I don't have to tell you anything," Ellis flustered.
"Unless you've suddenly become a cop. You want to talk
to somebody, talk to that Gallic cunt - the one that
Hobbs' kid liked fucking so much."
"And so did you," said a calm Laetitia Casta from the
doorway. She still looked a little shaken, but her
eyes were clear, and her head was held high. She
looked directly at Ellis and nodded in recognition.
"You were in our room that night."
"What are you talking about?" Ellis asked as Laetitia
came into the room.
"Don't try and deny it," she parried. "You were the
one who was touching me after Peter fell asleep... I
thought it was him at first. But whoever it was who
had me had a smaller penis than he did. And rougher
hands than he did. And worse breath than he did." By
now she had her face right next to Ellis. "And Peter
called me a lot of things that night, but he never,
ever went [and she then adopted a mannish,
American-accented voice] 'Oh yeah, how do you like
this grade A meat, you Gallic cunt?' Does that sound
familiar, Mr. Arnold? Or did you think - "
"YOU WERE ASLEEP!" Ellis shouted, and the penny
dropped for all.
"I was faking it," Laetitia said quietly. "You must be
used to women doing that with you."
"Fuck off back to Frogland - no, go back to England,
you'll fit right in with those bad teeth."
"At least they're real," Mya retorted. "Like your
caps, Ellie."
"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" Ellis yelled. "What the
frigging hell is WRONG with all of you? Especially
you, Crawford - I can't believe you actually let
this... this... this refugee from the land of stuck-up
appeasers hang around here!"
"So that was what this was about?" Peter asked. "You
don't like Laetitia because she's French?"
"You're goddamned right I don't," his colleague
breathed. "Bunch of - "
"Cheese-eating surrender monkeys, I have heard it all
before," Laetitia interrupted. "You're lucky we
haven't fired a missile from the Eiffel Tower at you,
you... slack-jawed yokel?"
"Got it in one," Cindy smiled, as Gwen started to
summon the police. "Make yourself at home, Mr. Arnold.
It'll be a while before the boys in blue arrive."
"Maybe Laetitia'll give you a blowjob to pass the
time," Gwen suggested. "She's really good."
Ellis was silent. He told himself he had butt-fucked
Laetitia out of contempt for her and her country, not
because she was so sexy and gorgeous. He kept telling
himself this as Miss Casta unzipped his trousers,
studied his prick in her hand, opened her mouth, and
began to give him his real punishment - long after he
would be released from prison, and for the rest of his
life, he would remember that the best blowjob he ever
had came from a fucking Frenchwoman.
* * * * * * * * * *
The poison had been injected into Peter's calf at an
angle that indicated it was from someone standing next
to the bed; both Cindy and Laetitia's testimonies made
it clear that they were both in bed at the time. Plus
some traces of the poison that Ellis had flushed down
the toilet were still in the water that it found its
way into, and to cap it all there were a few prints on
the syringes they'd found in Laetitia's quarters. All
his. Making him both xenophobic and stupid.
Ellis had never been too fond of the French, and
recent world events had intensified his dislike even
more. Ellis had also not been too fond of Peter Hobbs:
The Next Generation for being a Francophile. "He
thought my son was a traitor," Hobbs: The Original
told Cindy some time later. "I'm not a great admirer
of France myself, but I never stood in the way of my
son's wishes, unless it hurt him. There was the time
he wanted to go climbing in New Zealand without
oxygen..."
"That's children for you," Cindy said.
"So Ellis... he killed my son because he hated France
and everything linked to it."
"And he tried to frame Laetitia for it - he must have
found out about the time you and her were together. He
did his research, I'll give the bastard that much...
why are you looking at me that way?"
"It's just that it's strange hearing you say
'Bastard.'"
"You should hear me during rush hour," Cindy laughed.
"The funny thing is, he actually did my son a
favour... Pete started complaining that he was ill
earlier this year; took him to several doctors, all
agreed that it was the same thing..." Hobbs' voice
tailed off, and Cindy didn't pursue the matter. "There
was nothing any of them could do. I knew he had a
massive crush on Laetitia Casta, so..."
"Yes. I know."
"Where's Miss Casta? I want to thank her. For giving
Pete a happy last night."
"She's delivering a message," Cindy told him. "Ellis
Arnold's not the only one who needs a lesson..."
* * * * * * * * * *
"Hi, Briana?" Laetitia said to her colleague in the
shower.
"What do you want, Casta?"
"You're fired. Effective immediately."
Briana dropped the soap she was holding and stared at
Laetitia, smiling back at her through the water.
"I'm... WHAT?!"
"I told Cindy about your little exhibition the other
day," Laetitia explained. "She was furious... she
wanted to call you in there on the spot..."
"That doesn't give you the right to give me the axe,
you little snot!"
"Not in itself, no," Laetitia agreed.
"I'm going to go and talk to the boss right now - "
"Why bother? She said I could give you the message
myself; said it would serve you right." Laetitia
pressed her real breasts against Briana's silicone
sacks and French-kissed her departing rival. "As they
say here, don't let the door hit you in the ass on the
way out."
Briana's face contorted in disgust, and she ran out of
the shower, as a contented Laetitia picked up the soap
and started to lather herself.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Are you sure you want to go there, sir?" asked
John Casablancas' chauffeur.
"Yes, very sure," said the head of Elite. "I might as
well pay one of my protegees a visit."
"Yes, sir," the chauffeur said instead of "Oh for
God's sake man, you didn't CREATE her!" or words to
that effect going through his head. Like most of
Cindy's (and other models') fans, he was sick and
tired of his boss telling everyone under the sun that
they wouldn't have made it if it hadn't been for him,
but as long as he was driving for the big-headed fat
fucker he had no option but to keep his mouth shut.
"Unless she's banned me?" he asked.
"No - no one's banned without doing something first.
Not even her dad."
"Avaricious little bitch," Casablancas chuckled.
"Still, I think it's time she paid me back for all I
did for her..."