Appleby Blush Ch. 03

Alice let her, her arms dangling down her sides. What else could she do? She could feel the heat between her thighs as Marcia pulled open the cream blouse.

When the redhead whistled, she felt her blush turn a deeper shade of red.

"Geez, they're fabulous," Marcia murmured, cupping a breast in both hands. Her thumbs stroked across each nipple as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "They'll look great on camera, honey. Sometimes I think mine are too big but yours are perfect."

"Th... thanks."

When Marcia's thumbs circled her nipples again Alice felt a shiver all the way down to her sex. This wasn't natural, even in a modelling agency, was it? Then just as suddenly the hands had pulled away and the redhead was buttoning up the blouse. "Tell me, are you into women?"

"Into women?" Marcia had said it so naturally...

"Yeah. My last girlfriend had tits like those." The receptionist giggled again. "I couldn't keep my hands off them."

Alice sat back on the sofa, trying to take in what was happening. This girl was like a whirlwind; she hardly had time to catch her breath, let alone think. She'd never been sexually attracted to women, of course, but there was no denying the sexual impulses dancing around her body right now. And her throat was so dry.

"Do you think I could have another drink?" she croaked.

"Water this time," Marcia told her, swinging around to open the small fridge door. Pouring Alice a drink from one of the large bottles, she handed her the glass. "Well?"

"Well what?"

The redhead laughed. "Are you into women, silly?"

Alice took a moment to compose herself. She'd never quite met anyone as vibrantly forward as the redhead and it was impossible to tell if she was coming on to her or whether this was normal girly chat in the modelling world. She decided to firmly set out her stall. "No, I'm not into women, Marcia. Men have always been my thing."

"Too bad," the redhead laughed, leaning back against the refrigerator. Her nipples were piercing the thin material of her chocolate coloured top. "We'll talk again after you get some experience in the modelling world." She winked. "So, how important is it for you to get through the audition?"

Alice paused, taking a long sip of the water. It didn't help quell the heat she was feeling between her thighs but it eased the dryness in her throat. "It's... it's something I really want to do," she gabbled, looking up into those sparkling green eyes.

"You've come to the right place, we're the best around," Marcia smiled. "You want to know anything, just ask me. And by the way," she added, her smile widening, "do you want a tip on how to pass the audition?"

The cop's ears pricked up. "You bet," she replied, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Damn, she was feeling horny again. Maybe she'd have to pick up someone again tonight?

"Act sexy. Be sexy. Tony loves that. That's Tony Daly—he's the photographer. If you have any inhibitions, honey, get rid of them—for the audition at least. Imagine you're the hottest diva on the planet and act accordingly." She winked, taking Alice's empty glass and topping it up again from the bottle. "Think you can do that?"

Alice nodded. The unaccountable surge of sexual adrenalin running through her body shouldn't make that too difficult. "If that's what it takes..."

"Believe me, it is. Sex is always in the air in a studio. The trick is not to be fazed by it, Alice. Like all the top models, use it to your advantage. Outside of the studio you can be yourself. Inside, you should become that sexiest vamp that always lurks at the back of every woman's mind. And don't be afraid to let go. Always remember, what happens in the studio remains in the studio. You're safe there."

***

Donald Appleby could feel the frustration inside as he found his journey slowed by even more road works. Travelling by car was unusual for him nowadays, but the six monthly overhaul to his private jet had been brought forward due to some hydraulic problems.

If the work wasn't completed in time for his return from Edinburgh tomorrow there'd be hell to pay. How the hell did the roads ever get into this state? There was only one consolation and that was the woman sitting next to him. Angela had been dozing for the last twenty minutes and when she awoke he'd be giving her the first of the tasks he'd set for her while they were away. His cock flexed at the thought of her mouth on it...

He'd keep her out of the way during his business discussions, of course. But given his libido, her eagerness to please him during their leisure time made her presence essential.

He used the delay to prioritise his thoughts. First, there was the most lavish of celebratory functions which would shortly be held at his mansion. It would be the biggest and grandest party he'd ever held—a fitting tribute for Carmella's fortieth birthday. All of their friends had been invited of course, along with their key business connections and a good number of the new potential contacts he and the Columbian beauty were cultivating.

Chief among those connections was Joseph Nmobu and his brother Emmanuel. The Prime Minister of the African country was close to signing a contract for the mass production of Appleby Blush and Appleby' would make billions from the arrangement. Armed with copious quantities of Blush, he could entice and trap politicians all over the world into granting lucrative deals to extend his business activities in their countries.

The ironic aspect was that the Nmobu brothers were only negotiating for a one million a year fee—cash that would be paid directly to the two men's Switzerland account rather than to the impoverished African country. Appleby had quickly sussed out in their preliminary negotiations that Emmanuel Nmobu was the power behind the throne and their meeting tomorrow would be a positive step forward to sealing the deal.

Holding the meeting inside the Scottish Parliament was a brilliant idea. Who would suspect anything untoward being carried out in the full glare of the legislative offices? It would be seen as a simple coincidence that Emmanuel Nmobu and Donald Appleby were at the Holyrood location at the same time and Sir Douglas McPherson would ensure they had half an hour together in a private meeting.

McPherson had benefited immensely from Appleby's support over the years and his knighthood was due in no small measure to the businessman's use of a couple of his women with two members of the Royal family who should have known better.

The Scottish knight owed Appleby big time.

As to the party, it would be the most extravagant they'd ever held and despite the function being in her honour Carmella was the driving force behind all arrangements. Donald was well aware it was the sort of environment in which she excelled and she already had marquees erected and the caterers and the party organisers working diligently to her instructions

What would he do without his long term girlfriend? She was worth her weight in gold...

Then there was the investigation by the London Met. It was a minor inconvenience, but with the Nmobu negotiations being so advanced it was one he could do without. Carmella's suggestions on the way forward were as enlightening as ever and even as he drove north she was implementing her plan. In addition, Kaminski's inside information would ensure there were no nasty surprises. He hated surprises...

The shrill ring of his phone disturbed his thoughts as he followed a diversion and pulled to a halt at the temporary traffic lights. Even his advanced satellite navigation system had been unable to find a way around the constant road works.

"The motorway is a combat zone," he snapped, touching the front panel of the car so that the conversation continued through his headphone. His Essex born secretary remained asleep in the seat beside him but he had no intention of risking her overhearing anything. "Do people really travel like this nowadays?"

"Only those without your sort of money," Carmella answered, her soft laughter floating down the line. "We can use the time by me giving you a brief update?"

"Of course," he answered, his mind clicking back into business mode. "You've spoken to Daly?"

"I have," she told him. "I've explained where we're coming from and what his role is."

"He understands?" Appleby asked, straightening his Armani tie in the driving mirror.

"Fully, though he was a little frustrated before I gave him his reward."

Appleby caught his breath. "You did?"

This time the laugh over the line was much louder. "Uh hum. You know how I've always wanted to sample the goods, darling? It was a blowjob only, of course, I'll sample the main course for some other time."

"Hmmm..."

"Hmmm indeed, Donald," her voice purred.

He engaged gear and followed the queue of cars ahead along towards a dual carriageway. "Maybe I should be jealous?" he mused. "Fooling around with the hired help..."

"Hired help?" she asked. "That reminds me. How is Angela?"

"Touché," he conceded, glancing at the dozing beauty. Carmella always had a way of trumping him. "She's asleep right now."

"Really? Shouldn't she be on the job?"

Appleby laughed softly. "She will be soon. Sometimes I think she's wasted as my secretary. I'm quite sure we could have her corrupting an official somewhere or other..."

"Possibly," Carmella responded. "But then we both deserve a little fun sometimes, don't we? Just think of her as your own reward, darling."

"Reward for what?"

"For being you, of course—the sexiest and smartest man I know."

"True," he jokingly replied and they both burst into laughter. "So tell me darling, what's happening with our two Vice cops?"

"Kirsten returns tomorrow and I'll make sure we initiate her slowly. We agreed last night to take them down different paths at the right pace. As for Goodwin's daughter, she's here now. She's a cute looking blonde and there's no doubt both women will appeal to our target audience. Marcia's already made contact with her. Watch this space..."

"Watch this space," Appleby laughed, honking at a dawdling woman in the outside lane before putting his foot on the accelerator and roaring past a BMW that only just got out of his way in time. He loved Carmella's exuberant approach.

"By the way, darling," she added. "I need the jet again."

"You do?"

"Absolutely—I have to fit in the Paris trip. There's this wonderful clothes shop on the Champs-Élysées that is screaming for my attention and I need another dress for the party."

"Another dress...?"

Carmella laughed again. "But of course. You do want me to look at my best?"

"You always look at your best," he chuckled.

"Why thank you, darling. And if everything goes to plan, this Kirsten woman will be accompanying me..."

Appleby smiled to himself. "Ah, yes. To see Pierre Laroche, I presume?"

"The very same," came the laughing voice.

"Consider it at your disposal, assuming it's ready in time. If I have to do this return journey tomorrow I'll pull my hair out. Oh fuck..."

"What's wrong?"

"More road works," he spat unreasonably, gunning past the slowing Merc so he could get to the head of the queue and then jerking recklessly to a halt. "Our British roads are so quaint."

"I'll leave you to concentrate and we can continue this conversation later," she thoughtfully told him. "Drive carefully, darling..."

"As ever..." he told her, ending the call and gunning the engine. The traffic lights had changed and he was on his way back onto the motorway again before the Mercedes behind was even in gear.

He heard the dark haired woman stir beside him and glanced at her as she stretched. When her sleepy eyes smiled at him, he reached for his zip.

"Just in time," he grinned.

***

The bikinis were much skimpier than she'd anticipated, though in reality she realised that she'd worn less as she'd wandered topless along the Copacabana beach in the summer. Her slender body was fabulous, she knew that. Okay, she wasn't as curvy as Kirsten, but her athletic frame held a different kind of appeal. And Tony Daly's eyes had practically popped out when she'd sashayed around the studio.

Things were going well and if they continued that way she'd be called back again the way Kirsten had been. Nobody would be able to complain she was the inexperienced partner any more. Wilson would be proud of her and so would her dad.

She'd taken her time during the bikini change, admiring her figure in the mirror as she'd tried to control the sexual heat inhabiting her body. Modelling was such a turn on! Marcia had told her that sex was always in the air in a studio and now she could understand why. Use it to your advantage, the redhead had said, like all the top models do. That wasn't difficult, especially with the way that Tony Daly kept looking at her between shots.

Sending a sultry smile at the camera, she pulled her long hair on to the top of her head and then allowed it to flop back down as she turned one way and the other. Dressed in just the tiny red bikini and tall black heels, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, allowing Daly to admire the perfection of her body. He'd taken enough shots by now, surely, but each subsequent click of the camera sent stronger and stronger jolts between her thighs.

Adrenalin surged through her slender body as she swung around to show him her ass. The bottoms of her round cheeks escaped the thin red thong in a wonderfully tantalising tease and she placed her hands on her hips as she cheekily shook her booty at him.

A part of her reminded her that she was a cop and that she shouldn't be acting in such a flagrantly uninhibited way. But the heat inside her body had other ideas...

Turning back, hands on hips, her nipples were hard and visible through her skimpy top. She didn't need to glance down to know that. Her perky breasts may not be as large as Kirsten's but they were big enough to draw admiring glances whenever she went topless on holiday. Men had often said that her succulent nipples looked like they were begging to be sucked. Maybe she should drag off the top and let Daly really see what was on offer?

God, she felt on fire. What would he do if she stripped naked?

***

Tony Daly grinned to himself. This one would be even easier than normal. She'd pouted, flirted, and her soft blue eyes had pretty damn near fucked the camera lens. Blush affected all women, but with some, a single dose didn't just remove their inhibitions, it deepened and enhanced their wild side. There was no doubt the blonde cop fell into that category.

Those sexy dimples and her smile that just barely touched the corner of her lips couldn't disguise she was a hot little bitch. She hadn't just been modelling for him—she'd been flaunting her body, pushing his reaction to the limits. It was a shame that Carmella had other plans for her. He hadn't the slightest doubt she'd be an amazing fuck.

"I need more," he snapped, moving closer. "If you want to pass this audition then I need more!"

She reacted the way he knew she would, putting even more exuberance into her poses. If he couldn't fuck her, then maybe he could push her to the limit?

"Don't you want this?" he rasped, as if what she was offering wasn't enough. "I have an idea.... one last chance. Get on the stool."

She looked startled, as if she was unable to fathom what she was doing wrong. That's right, Daly thought, get them off guard. He watched as she glanced around her and quickly grabbed the small white stool next to the table.

"The wall," he snapped, keeping up the pressure. Keep her off balance and don't give her time to think. He'd seen that dreamy look in her eyes many times before. Push the right buttons and she'd be putty in his hands. "Put it against the wall and sit on it."

Alice quickly moved into position. The smell the white paint covering the brick wall was strong but she forced herself to concentrate on the camera. It was a last chance, he'd said.

"That's better," he told her, alternating between carrot and stick. "Sexier. Give me more."

He clicked off one shot after another as she responded, knowing his memory card must be nearly full. That didn't matter; the hidden video cameras would be catching every move. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt the spell he'd started to weave.

He dropped the camera to his waist, standing with his hands on his hips to convey the impression that he remained unsure. Then he nodded, as if he'd made a decision. "Sit back and face me," he told her, dragging a small box from underneath the table. He positioned it to her left. "Open your legs wide. Put your left foot on the box..."

She eagerly followed each instruction without hesitation, not caring about the provocative pose in those tiny bikini bottoms. He could clearly see the outline of her sex under the material and the small wet spot was evidence enough of the way she was feeling.

"Better," he encouraged, clicking away again. "Much better. Remove your bikini top—no, don't, drag it up with one hand so that the camera can see your breasts. Quickly..."

His cock lurched as her trembling hands dragged it under her chin. Fuck, that was hot... Legs lewdly spread, breasts exposed—this was way beyond anything they'd done so far and she'd followed each instruction without a second thought. He had her...

"Better, better. Look at the camera... make love to the camera... fuck the camera..."

Her dreamy gaze narrowed. The blonde cop wasn't just following directions, she was feeling them.

"Yes, hold that thought," he snapped, wondering what sexy image she had in her mind's eye. He grazed his hand across the bulge in his crotch, making sure she saw the movement. It was essential to keep up the pace, make everything fast and instant...

"Put your hand in front of your pussy... thumb on the top of the thong, fingers pointed down."

Her sexy blue eyes half closed as her palm touched her soft flesh through the thin material. Her expression was right out of a porn magazine—smoky, glistening, heart-shaped navel piercing, tussled golden hair. The look of a sexy babe who promised everything. It was all she could do not to rub herself.

Perfect...

Taking three steps towards her, his thick fingers pulled loose the tie on the left of her bikini thong and then the right. Like a magician with a tablecloth, he pulled the garment from under her before she realised what was happening. He was really pushing the boundaries but his instinct for such things had never let him down yet.

His eyes zeroed in on the thin, blonde landing strip and beneath he could see her arousal all to evident across her glistening sex. "Perfect, Alice. Stroke yourself..."

Her hesitation surprised him. For a moment he thought he'd been mistaken and had gone too far. But just for a moment. Then her hand returned to her sex, covering herself with her palm and gently beginning to rub herself. A soft moan escaped her lips as her eyes closed. Then her hips began to move. She was his...

When she bit down on her lower lip, he increased the pressure. "More..." he instructed. "Faster."

There was no holding her back. Her teeth began to grind as she rubbed herself harder, her fingers circling her clit. Her hips began to undulate faster and the front legs of the stool lifted from the floor. He was a genius—once they were into it they couldn't stop.

The idea of masturbating in front of him and being photographed doing it was akin to a lemming leaping over the edge of a cliff. The Blush made it inevitable.

Her eyes opened and then closed again, tighter this time. Was she thinking that if she couldn't see him, he couldn't see her? He heard the wet sloshing sound of her fingers before he realised that two of them had found their way inside her.

He'd long since dropped the pretence of trying to photograph her and was now rubbing himself through his jeans. Her knees came up as she somehow planted the soles of both feet on the edge of the stool. Head back against the wall, she was groaning in that way some women had just before they reached their orgasm.