Palmer: Fashion Week Ch. 03

The blonde's curvy body was entangled with that of a brunette, while the two of them were exchanging soft kisses.

Leaning forward, Volkov sucked a slow drag off an opium pipe. His eyelids rolled back as the initial wave of pleasure rolled through him. He had to hand it to the young Sheikh. He had yet to meet his equal as far as decadence was concerned.

"So..." he said, his voice oozing out his throat in an elongated drawl.

God, he felt good. The opium high wrapped him into a warm cocoon of bliss. Everyone should hold business meetings this way.

"What exactly was it you wanted to discuss, Amir?"

"The contract, of course," the Sheikh answered. His tone was soft and persuasive. "In the light of recent events, it is important to ensure the terms remain acceptable to both parties."

"Recent events?" Volkov softly asked.

"Indeed," bin Khalid answered. "Recent events."

That was as far as he was prepared to go, but the remark gave the Russian the information he needed. There was only one reason for the Sheikh to look for a better deal now. He'd been offered an alternative. And that confirmed everything Volkov needed to know...

In some ways, the situation was his own fault. By driving such a hard bargain with the Sheikh, he had opened the door for Tony Yamamura. But at least the Japanese man's treachery had been flushed out. Soon, he would pay for his sins and that would be that.

He glanced into the shallow pool infront of them as he thought things through. The clear light-blue water reflected the body of the doe-eyed girl draped on the sofa opposite. Her gold satin robe had fallen away completely from her upper body and she had raised one of her ripe breasts to her mouth, circling the mocha-coloured nipple with her tongue.

Forcing his hazy gaze away from the provocative sight, he turned his attention back to Sheikh Amir. All that remained was for him to outbid Yamamura and his plans were back on track. The additional cost wasn't an issue. He could afford to pay substantially more and still remain well ahead of the game.

"You know I'm fully appreciative of the help you're providing, Amir," he murmured, in his most conciliatory tone. "If you believe I've understated the value of that support, I'm prepared to correct that mistake as a matter of urgency."

"I would expect nothing else between men of such integrity," the Sheikh smiled, happy that they understood one another. "To demonstrate my intentions to keep to my side of the bargain, my people are drawing up another contract as we speak. I'll tell them we've agreed the revised fee."

Volkov nodded. It would show weakness to enquire how much extra this was going to cost him. He'd know soon enough.

Negotiations over, his gaze returned to the women. They were together on the backless couch now, giggling a little as their fingers stroked across each other's bodies. It was impossible to tell which belonged to whom.

"Tell me this," the Sheikh mused, following the Russian's gaze. "Which of my nieces do you find the most attractive?"

Volkov had to chuckle. He loved that description. His eyes rolled back to the 'nieces'. Each of them was observing him closely—their pupils shrunk to pin pricks—waiting eagerly to see who he chose.

As he paused, one of them swung her legs to the rug-covered floor, the bells on her golden anklet advertising her movements. Her toenails were painted red and she had four toe rings on. With an exaggerated roll of her hips, she posed happily for the Russian as she descended into the pool, sending ripples across the still surface.

Taking her cue, the brunette was the next to seek the limelight. Pushing herself up, she leaned across the blonde woman and kissed her deeply. Volkov felt his dick respond as he watched the blonde shift on the couch, lewdly spreading her legs as their tongues lapped and swirled.

"All of them," he said, so focused on the unfolding action that he barely looked at the Sheikh. "I like all your nieces."

"As you wish," his host smiled, bringing the women back to attention with a single clap of his hands. "I just hope you have a healthy appetite..."

*

Tony Yamamura was in a good place. He'd used his time working for Nikolay Volkov to understand every aspect of the Russian's way of operating. Now he—with Michelle Park, his girlfriend—was ready to start out on their own. They would hijack Volkov's plans for Middle East domination and then gradually expand their business dealings.

Money had been his biggest problem. He hadn't originally anticipated just how much was needed for a start-up operation, but now he had a number of Oriental backers lined up to provide all the funding he needed. The only stipulation was for him to pull off the deal with Sheikh Amir bin Khalid, and that was pretty much guaranteed now.

The next issue was to build up his own bevy of models. Michelle had approached some established models, coyly suggesting that they transferred their allegiance from Volkov to a 'new, global modelling agency'. But that couldn't be achieved overnight, and his agreement with Bree Jensen was designed to buy him more time.

Sex was a powerful weapon in the business world, and Volkov had successfully used his models as sweeteners to clinch business deals for longer than Yamamura could remember. Now he was about to trump him. What was better than spending a night with a well known model? Fucking a high profile porn star, of course!

He'd be personally putting Bree through her paces later tonight, in his hotel suite. So would Michelle. His girlfriend had insisted on joining in on the action. But first, he had a photo shoot to attend to.

Along with Michelle, he was going to use Jennifer Finney at the forefront of influencing potential business contacts his way. He'd realised the brunette's potential the moment he'd first seen her at Heathrow airport. It was like God had reached into his mind, took all the traits of his fantasy woman, and made them flesh.

The best part was that she didn't know how attractive she was.

He'd negotiated the photo shoot personally with Clinique, albeit on Volkov's behalf. Unbeknown to the Russian, he'd used his own name on the contract. The client had no idea of Volkov's involvement, and that gave Yamamura free reign to manipulate the shoot the way he wanted. That was another essential part of his plan.

With those lips, a lipstick campaign was the perfect way to introduce Jenn to the world and once she became a household name, her value would quadruple. But that was only part of it.

He and Michelle were also using the shoot to test the brunette's limits. His girlfriend could seduce the Pope if she was given the chance, so the aspiring model wouldn't have a chance once Michelle turned up the sexual heat. And once they had her in their clutches, everything else would be so much easier...

*

Jenn Finney checked herself in the mirror on the set. Her unbelievably short strapless white dress was practically moulded to her curves. And it was low cut, too. Her tits were practically spilling out. She wouldn't have dared wear it anywhere else but here in the studio.

If Sandra Wilson or any of the guys in the team could see her now, their eyes would pop out. She felt like the sexiest woman in the Universe. Was this really her?

"You look great," Tony Yamamura told her, as he handed over another glass of wine.

That made three, but she took it instantly. The alcohol was doing a great job of calming her nerves.

His eyes wandered across her curves as she gulped half of it down. Normally she hated men checking her out so obviously, but right now she didn't mind at all. If someone as important as the Japanese man fancied her, then she must look good.

"Thanks," she told him, and then giggled.

The wine was definitely going to her head! She finished the drink with another gulp and then giggled again as she looked at the lipstick on the rim of her wine glass.

"Oops. Looks like I'll need to fix that."

"Roy will fix you up," Yamamura said, smiling broadly as he refilled the glass.

Another? A fourth? No way. She was already tipsy. But she took another sip, all the same.

"Come on," he said, his gaze dipping into her cleavage again as he took her arm. "Let's familiarise you with the set."

Like her outfit, the background was pure white. Roy had explained earlier that they needed it that way so as to provide a better focus on the colour of their lips.

"I'd like you to meet the model you're working with," Yamamura said, guiding her across the room towards a dark-haired girl. "Jennifer, this is Michelle Park."

"Hi," she said, smiling happily. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Michelle returned, her almond-shaped eyes running up and down the brunette's body.

If anything, Tony had understated the young woman's characteristics. The sexy naïve innocence he'd mentioned was written all over her expression. Her fabulously tanned body—with those large breasts, wide hips and enviously narrow waist—was made for sin. And her dark hair, deep brown eyes, pouting red lips and freckled skin all added to her attractiveness. The bitch was a wet dream.

This was going to be fun...

*

Standing pigeon-toed in her spiked heels, one hand clasped around her forearm and the other touching her hair, Jenn had never felt more vulnerable in her life. Her big eyes blinked at Tony Yamamura as she tried to hold herself together.

"Relax," he softly said, nudging her arm. "In that dress, you look like the hottest woman on God's earth."

A surprising feeling of warmth flooded through her body at his unexpected words. She was little Jennifer Finney from England and this high flying young Japanese executive was telling her she looked like a million dollars. Not only that, but it felt like every person on the set hadn't been able to keep their eyes off her.

How amazing was that?

"You're ready?" he asked.

She nodded. That way he wouldn't hear the tremor in her voice. Michelle was already on set, posing for some test shots. The Korean American beauty looked like she'd been born to do this.

"The client wants sex-appeal with an elegant veneer," he told her, staring emphatically into her eyes to make sure she understood. "When a woman wears this lipstick, it has to match the way she is. I want to capture her various moods—from sexy to shy, confident to demure. Michelle will lead the way. Your job is to follow her. Okay?"

Jenn nodded again. She'd thought she could do this, but the way Yamamura's eyes were devouring her tits was producing the inevitable reaction. The way her hard nipples were pushing through the white material of her dress was embarrassing.

"We're going to do some solo shots first, starting with Michelle," he reassured her, casually sliding an arm around her waist.

Somehow, it felt comforting.

"This whole campaign is about your face, your lips," he told her, holding her warmth close to his. She could feel his gaze on her cleavage again. "But you have to use this sensational body, too. Let it come naturally, but I want you to think sex, nothing but sex."

The heat of his words began to pump through her body in time with the stroking motion of his hand. It was gently running from the middle of her back down to her butt and back again. If he was trying to turn her on, he'd succeeded. Did all models feel like this during a photo shoot, or was it the impact of too much wine?

*

Half an hour later and it was Jenn's turn to go solo infront of the camera. Tony and Michelle stood at the side of the set, close enough to observe her performance and yet discreet enough not to interfere. She was projecting everything that Yamamura had asked—shoulders back, those fabulous breasts thrust forward and one hand on her hip as she pouted at the camera.

"She's good," the model whispered to her boyfriend.

Yamamura nodded. "If she could just get over her anxiety, she'd be incredible. But in a way, that's part of her appeal. She exudes the kind of sexy innocence that most women have felt from time to time."

"Not me. Never."

Tony Yamamura glanced sideways at her out of the corner of his eye.

"No ... not you, my dear! But then we both know you're an exception to the rule. You're full on sexy, and you know it, whereas this girl has no idea how hot she is. She's a natural. I saw it instantly."

"Maybe," Michelle murmured, unwilling to give anyone too much credit. She pushed closer, practically draping her body around her boyfriend's. "How far do you want me to go with her?"

"Good question," he mused thoughtfully. "We don't want to scare her away, but I want to scratch underneath that surface, see what we find."

"If you want my opinion," his girlfriend hummed, "we need to push her all the way. She either has it in her or she doesn't and, with what we have in mind, the sooner we know the better."

Yamamura pursed his lips as he thought. Michelle could be very direct at times, and he understood where she was coming from. But Jenn was special, and if he was going to turn her into one of his leading escorts, he needed to take one step at a time.

"Not yet," he told her, this time firmly meeting her gaze. "Tease her. That's all. We can then pick up the pace at tomorrow night's party."

"Ah, yes, Tony, your boss is throwing his usual bash," Michelle said, in delight. "I'll get to meet Nikolay Volkov at last."

Her lips puckered seductively as she gently brushed her fingers against her boyfriend's groin.

"Do you think he's going to fuck me at the party?" she chuckled, giving him a squeeze. "I'll be sure to tell you all about it afterwards."

*

It was an hour later and Jenn was feeling the need. She was really feeling the need. Michelle was such a natural infront of the camera and she'd tried to follow her lead. The problem was that the model kept leading her down sexual cul-de-sac's from which there was no escape. If she draped her body against Jenn's again in such a blatantly sexual way, she would scream.

She had posed with other women before, small-time stuff, but had never felt as turned on as this. At first Michelle had just whispered small compliments to her—about her shiny hair, her pouting lips, and her 'hot' body. But then, as the camera continued to click around them, the compliments had turned to questions.

They were subtle at first. Had she ever been with another woman? Would she like to? Would she like Michelle to teach her how Asian women made love? And then the questions had turned to suggestions. She'd described what she'd like to do to Jenn. In the most basic of terms. Things that made Jenn's cheeks burn...

She told herself that the more experienced model was just doing her job. They wanted her worked up so that the Spanish photographer—Isobel—got the shots she wanted, didn't they? Well, it had worked. She was more aroused than she'd become in a long, long time.

"One final session," Isobel eventually called, seemingly letting her off the hook. But the accompanying instruction threw her. "Everyone else off the set, please. Just the two models."

The command threw Jenn. There were only a handful of people around, anyway, and after a few minutes of shooting she'd even forgotten they were there. What was the problem?

The answer came as soon as everyone, Tony Yamamura included, had trooped out of the room.

"Okay, off with the dresses, ladies! Right now!"

Jenn stared at her incredulously, but Michelle didn't hesitate. Her slim fingers went right to zip at the back of her dress, shedding the skimpy garment fluidly at her feet.

Jenn gasped at the sight. She was no lesbian, and didn't really consider herself into women, but this woman was built like a tigress. Her wide eyes couldn't stop themselves from travelling along the contours of those small, perky breasts, all the way down to the narrow strip of dark hair that adorned her compact, and very wet, labial lips.

Jenn wasn't the only one that was aroused!

"Why?" she stuttered, pulling her brown eyes back up to the model's face, and then looking questioningly at Isobel. "I don't understand."

"It's traditional at this stage of a shoot," Michelle interrupted, raising a manicured eyebrow at her. "Don't worry, the photographs will be tasteful."

Jenn felt her face colour. "Tasteful?"

"Trust me," Isobel murmured confidently. "This way, I can fully enhance the effect of your lips without other distractions. All of the shots will be from your neck up. It's the lipstick we're promoting, remember?"

Yes, but if that was the case then why...

The question faded on Jenn's lips as she realised the two women were staring at her, waiting. It was her turn, the look on their faces was insisting. She didn't understand, but neither could she afford to be precious. She was here for a reason. Besides, she was proud of her body, so why should she be ashamed of revealing it now?

That's what models like Michelle did.

Closing her eyes, she released the clasp of the white dress and allowed it to pool at her feet. Unlike the other model, she wore a little g-string that was just enough to cover the slight rise of her mound. That was staying where it was!

*

"Hot, isn't she?" Isobel asked, with a suggestive smile.

They'd taken a quick break while the Spanish photographer fiddled with a couple of cameras, and Jenn had taken the opportunity to pour herself some more wine. Isobel had quickly joined her, accepting a glass and then nodding across towards Michelle.

"She's pretty, that's for sure," Jenn agreed, leaving it at that.

The sooner this was over and she could get back to her hotel, the better. Watching the naked model sauntering casually around the room, occasionally smiling at her with those full, pouty lips and almond shaped eyes, was doing nothing to calm her raging libido.

"Glad you think so," Isobel told her. "It's time to get it on..."

Jenn felt her heart twitter at the words and hurriedly finished her drink. The copious amounts of alcohol she'd assumed seemed to have calmed her nerves, but it had the opposite effect on her body. Was it really this warm in the room?

Isobel went straight to work.

"Michelle, I want you to put your arms around Jenn. That's it, face each other. Right there, hold it."

The Korean American model's arms felt soft where they touched her skin. When she glided her fingers across her back, down to her hips, Jenn shivered. But she didn't have time to compose herself.

"Right, Jenn, I want you to put your arms around Michelle's neck. A little higher. Elbows down ... there!"

Jenn did as she was instructed, feeling her nipples harden further as they came in contact with the underside of the other woman's breasts. Could Michelle feel that? Was she feeling the same way? When their eyes met, she knew that she was. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Michelle, lean in," Isobel continued. "Like you're going to kiss her. Let the camera see those lips."

Jenn's throat went dry as Michelle tilted her head to one side, dipping her face forward. She could feel the young woman's shallow, hot breath on her lips.

"There, hold that! Perfect! God, that's great! Hold it! Keep holding it."

Jenn's muscles ached. She was tense enough anyway, and holding such a sensual pose was making her even stiffer.

"Okay, I've got it. Now, I want you to repeat it, only this time—"

Isobel paused to switch out her film.

"This time, Michelle, I want you to get behind her. And Jenn, I want you to look over your shoulder, like you're about to accept a kiss."

"Sure," Jenn breathed, feeling a little buzzed.

She was trying to sound confident, like she did this all the time.

"And Michelle, cover her tits with your hands," Isobel suddenly added, snapping her camera shut.

"My pleasure," the hot model whispered huskily, grinning happily.