tagCelebritiesThe Makeup Artist Ch. 01

The Makeup Artist Ch. 01

byStephanie_Rose©

The following is a fictional parody, not approved of, nor authorized by, the celebrities named. None of the events are true.

No harm is intended toward any of the celebrities named.


~~~

Beyonce Knowles needs immediate attention.

~~~

I stepped out of the stretch black limousine and looked up at the tall building framed by the ice-cold blue sky. As noisy as it was, the Manhattan traffic couldn't distract me from my thoughts.

So many things ran through my head: Would this work out? Would she be satisfied? Hell, would I even get paid? I chuckled. Times were pretty tight, so there really wasn't any time to bullshit. Rent was due 6 days ago. "Here goes nothing," I sighed as the doorman curtly wished me a good afternoon and ushered me into the hotel.

Riding the elevator to the Penthouse, I glanced down at my makeup case. I'd been making up celebrities for a grand total of two months. Quitting my job at Essence salon sounded like a good idea at the time, but now those thoughts seemed light years away.

As I stepped off of the elevator, I glanced back at myself in the mirrored doors. I looked pretty damn good. My chocolate skin, soft and smooth to the touch, glowed with excitement. Somewhat on the short side, I was lucky enough to be pretty slender. My petite frame was tight and toned for the most part, but there was always room for improvement. My firm breasts stretched against the sheer white blouse that hit just above my navel, showing just a peek of brown skin. Those crunches hurt like hell, but made me look so good.

Tailored khaki cargo pants fit my toned hips and legs perfectly. My black leather jacket came just over my hips. I had to admit: I looked pretty fly. And definitely younger than my mid-30s would reveal. My light vanilla scent swirled around me and caressed me gently. Just as I cocked my tweed newsboy cap over my black, shoulder-length bob, and winked at my reflection, I heard the lock click on the door.

Before I'd gotten a chance to reach for the doorbell, the door opened. A gorgeous caramel beauty stood in the foyer, headset in place, clipboard tucked under her arm. Her long chestnut hair was pulled up into a neat ponytail, and stylish, but tasteful gold jewelry adorned her delicate fingers and wrists. We silently checked each other out. Wow. Very pretty. Then she smiled. Is she teasing me? Doesn't she know that it's been over two weeks since...?

"Nikii Clarke?"

I nodded as she checked my ID.

"I'm Jewel." Without another word, she waved me in. I followed her through the elaborate foyer into a luxurious great room filled with people. Though the room was packed, and definitely hectic, I noticed many smiles on the faces of the busy workers. Laughter rang out as various groups huddled into each other.

In one corner of the room, beautiful models and dancers, with incredibly fit bodies, milled around in various states of undress. Some were being fitted for costumes; others waited patiently for hair and makeup attention.

In another corner, tailors adjusted hems on wildly colored garments, as seamstresses handled expensive fabrics and franticly sewed new creations. Near the bank of windows at the far end of the room, two assistants furiously tapped on laptops as two more ran stacks of documents through a tabletop copier.

As Jewel silently led the way, I barely heard our heels click on the marble tile through all the buzzing activity taking place. We continued through a back hallway into a second suite; she still giving me the silent treatment, me checking out her strong shoulder blades and tightly formed arms in a white tank top.

Her lightly defined muscles rippled underneath the taut skin. I licked my lips as I turned my attention to her cute ass in tight black leather pants. The firm globes danced rhythmically before my eyes. But just as I was getting annoyed by her silence, I heard her light voice.

"So. How long have you been a makeup artist?"

"It speaks," I teased. She turned and scowled at me.

I held up my makeup case in between us. "Just kidding, sweetie. To answer your question, I've been playing with colors since I was a kid."

"How nice," she clipped.

As I looked around the spacious suite, I realized just how broke I actually was. And I wondered just where in the hell were we going. Just how big was this palace?

Everywhere I turned, assistants fluttered around, making sure everything was taken care of for tonight's concert.

Jewel led me to a tall and thin, yet elegant lady with beautiful honey-brown skin. Sandee, as she introduced herself, was the lead stylist. As she checked my ID, we spoke briefly about the look for tonight's concert, and confirmed my fee. I quickly explained the products I'd brought, and my timeline for finishing the job.

She must have been satisfied, because Jewel was then leading me back into a third room, a makeshift beauty salon. Colorful costumes stored in clear plastic garment bags were neatly hung on several clothing racks. Shoes and other accessories were carefully stacked and labeled in various see-through plastic bins.

She's neat. Good sign, I grinned.

"Welcome to Casa B," my escort chuckled, as she turned to leave. "Good luck."

Though this room was smaller, it was more lavish than the previous ones. Rare artwork adorned the cream-colored walls, a perfect accompaniment to the contemporary décor of the room. I waved a quick greeting at a couple of the assistants, and looked around for my assignment.

Then I saw her.

She was modestly dressed, yet absolutely gorgeous. My breath caught at the sight of her.

She was seated in a plush styling chair, in front of a large mirror; surprisingly calm and cool despite the flurry of activity around her. She wore an adorable pink fluffy robe with matching slippers. Legs crossed, tempting me with a glimpse of her creamy skin, she chatted on a jeweled cell phone as she flipped through a large stack of papers in her lap.

As she continued her phone conversation, she caught my eye and waved me over. As she talked, I quickly removed my hat and jacket, and unloaded my makeup case. Just as I finished, she clicked off her phone, and extended a neatly manicured hand.

"Hi. You're Nikii?" she asked sweetly. To be a woman worth millions, I was surprised at how soft her voice was. As I shook her hand, I was even more surprised at her soft touch.

"Yes, I am. How are you, Ms. Knowl-"

She waved me off. "Don't even," she said. "Call me Beyonce, or just B. The whole team does."

"Sure, B." I smiled. "And thanks for hiring me on such short notice."

"Thank you for coming on such short notice." She looked at me quietly for a moment. "I have to admit, though, new people make me nervous." Then she gave me a reassuring smile. "But Charlene says you're trustworthy. And amazing. And not going to charge me an arm and a leg for coming over right away."

I smiled as I pictured my old boss at Essence Salon. "Char's absolutely correct on all counts," I quipped. Hopefully by joking with her, I impressed her with my talents and put her at ease. "Char's a doll. She got me my first solo gig doing makeup for Tyra Banks, so I'm forever grateful to her."

I made a mental note to give Char a big, wet kiss the next time I saw her. But because I was growing to really like Beyonce, I conveniently left out the fact that Char & I had been involved off-and-on for quite some time. Remaining friends with ex-girlfriends can often be kind of sticky, but Char and I always remained cool.

Beyonce and I spoke quickly about the look she wanted, confirmed my fee, and then I went to work. With less than 2 hours before the dress rehearsal at Madison Square Garden, I had to work quickly. From eavesdropping on the buzz around me, her usual routine on a concert night consisted of a final costume fitting, hairstyling, and makeup at the hotel before leaving for the arena. As of now, her hair was finished and her costumes were neatly pressed and hanging on hooks right by the mirror. All that was left was her makeup. Which meant me. And I was nervous as hell. But I swallowed my fear and went to work.

As I deftly applied her foundation, I commented on how smooth and clear her skin was. I took her creamy light complexion and added sparkly, yet warm colors to give it a shimmery glow. Then I started on her eyes. Blocking out all the noise in the room, I closed my eyes and quickly visualized her color scheme. Since she wanted a soft, glowing, romantic look, adding rosy pinks with a touch of gold to her skin would be perfect. As I expertly applied the soft shades onto her lids, I noticed just how pretty she really was.

As I glanced down, I noticed that her robe had opened slightly. A peek of satiny black lace was nestled around her soft golden breasts. As I imagined the firm nipples nestled in my wanting mouth, beads of sweat began to form on my forehead, and I felt an insistent throbbing between my legs. Her light fragrance captivated me; adding to my arousal.

Being so close to her allowed her warmth to permeate my being; dismantling all of my defenses.

This girl was getting to me. Badly.

Composing myself, I carefully groomed her eyebrows and applied jet black mascara to her long, luscious lashes.

While I worked, I saw her looking intently at herself in the mirror. Immediately, I became even more nervous as she silently critiqued my work, but I was determined not to let it show. After applying a rosy blush to her sharply defined cheekbones, I moved to start on her lips.

As I moved my lip brush toward her, she broke into a wide smile.

"You're so serious. I've never seen someone so intense."

I smiled back. "No one except yourself." Whoa. Was I taking a chance?

She grinned, as I swept the soft rose color across her lips. Damn. So lickable. I quickly finished with some sheer pink gloss, and we both stared in the mirror at her reflection.

"Oooh, Nikii," she gasped. "I love it! It's perfect."

She was simply gorgeous. Her hair fell in loose, sandy-brown waves cascading around her shoulders. Her face was truly angelic. Her expressive eyes glowed with joy, and her cute smile melted my heart. Why did it get warm all of a sudden?

As I packed up my equipment, I heard her soft voice.

"I want you."

I broke my reverie. Had I heard right? "Excuse me?"

"I want you...to come with me to the arena. For the last-minute touch ups."

"Oh, ok. Sure. Fine." Didn't I know any words longer than one syllable?

"Great. Sandee can give you all the details. You can ride over with the rest of the glam squad, and I'll see you there shortly."

"Thanks." Is that all I was going to say? Had I gotten shy all of a sudden?

"And oh yeah...she'll have your check at the end of the night."

Thank the Lord. I'd almost forgotten why I was there.

She rose from the chair and extended her arms out to me for a hug. Her embrace felt so warm and comforting, and I could feel her hands gently stroke my back. Her fingernails tickled me gently. "Thanks again, sweetheart," she winked, as she clicked her phone back on and began to dial. Damn, she's flirtatious. I'm definitely going to have to see where this goes.

Leaving her to her conversation, I left the beauty suite, and continued back into the great room. I eventually found Sandee in all of the chaos and she gave me the full run-down of all the night's activities. She also introduced me to the rest of the staff, who were surprisingly warm and friendly.

I even got to meet Beyonce's mom, Tina. She was holding court in the middle of the room, directing the staff on their duties for that evening. Beyonce's sister, Solange, was there with her son Daniel, but they were both too preoccupied playing with brightly-colored toys in the corner of the room to notice the commotion.

After signing all of the required paperwork (which included a monster of a confidentiality agreement), I sat through a brief staff meeting. Finally, armed with my backstage pass, I made my way down to the luxury SUV with the rest of the team. There were three more in her personal glam squad: James took care of her hair, Delores did the clothes, and Pietra took care of all of the shoes and accessories.

I was amazed at all of the gorgeous members of her team. Only handsome gentlemen and legions of attractive women seemed to be on her payroll. If I wasn't so busy (and nervous) at this new job, I would have loved to have made some special new friends. Sweet and pretty girls had always been my weakness, and today was no different. Unfortunately, work had to come first, so I put my passions on the back burner.

As we rode over to the arena, I learned that not only did Sandee oversee this team, but she was also in charge of the secondary style teams that did hair, makeup and costumes for each of the dancers, backup singers and musicians. It was a huge undertaking, and I was definitely impressed. Since the moment I arrived, I noticed the efficiency and professionalism of the entire staff, and I secretly hoped that Beyonce was the one who orchestrated it.

As the rest of the team chatted around me, I couldn't help but stare out of the window in amazement. I was actually styling Beyonce Knowles. And for great pay. And for a brief moment, I even imagined myself as a permanent part of Beyonce's style team.

The next few hours were a blur. After arriving at the arena, Beyonce launched into a spirited rehearsal. Later, we had just 10 minutes to freshen her up for a press conference. We also did a quick re-touch for her usual meet-and-greet with fans.

To my credit, I noticed that whenever I worked on her, she kept smiling at me. I'd heard she was friendly and cordial, but I couldn't help but wonder if something more was there. Nah, couldn't be. Hopefully she's just pleased with my work.

Still, I secretly imagined myself in between those gorgeous, creamy thighs taking her to heaven.

Later that evening, while her opening act took the stage, we did a full styling, with theatrical makeup, and professional hair and clothing accessories. She danced and sang with such passion, that we had to make sure her look would hold up beautifully under the intense lights and cameras.

Finally it was time for her performance. The driving beat of her entrance music began, and I found myself rocking to one of my favorite songs.

While she performed her first set, I finally had a chance to catch my breath. I couldn't believe I was so wiped out. But the night was hardly done: we ended up styling her through 5 more costume, hair and makeup changes before the end of the show.

Though I was just backstage, I could feel the energy she radiated. It felt like the entire arena vibed off of the fun dance moves, the sexy outfits and the hard-driving beats.

Two hours later, exhausted and dripping wet with sweat, she finally left the stage after 2 encores. She retreated directly to her dressing room while we waited for further instructions. I learned that it was customary for her to have about 20 minutes alone after every performance before she met with fans and signed more autographs. So I was surprised when, after only a couple of minutes, Sandee walked up to me.

"Beyonce wants to see you."

I thought I detected some tension in her voice, but I had to be mistaken. "Sure. Let me grab my case."

I followed her back to Beyonce's dressing room. She let me in and, before I could turn around, she exited the room and closed the door behind her. I was surprised that, except for Beyonce, the room was empty. I never thought she'd be alone now, especially having just performed a major concert in front of thousands of fans, and with so many of her entourage just down the hall.

She was sitting in a chair in front of the mirror; this time in a light blue robe. "I need you to freshen me up real quick."

"Sure." I set my case on the table and quickly went to work. I began to complement her on her performance, but I was thrown off by her delicious scent. I could smell the baby oil on her freshly showered body, and my chocolate nipples immediately hardened. I was embarrassed because I knew they were showing through both my bra and my sheer white blouse. She didn't seem to notice, so I relaxed a bit.

I composed myself and continued working. I decided to use cool pink tones to make her skin look refreshed. She seemed pleased with my choice as she stared at the mirror. This time, I could have sworn that she was looking directly at me, rather than at herself.

Her sweet voice soothed my ears. "I'm really pleased at how great you've been today. Char said that you did good work. In fact, she said that you're the best. Very talented."

"Thanks," I blushed. Why in the hell was I getting shy all of a sudden? I've never been this timid around a girl before.

"She also said that you were good at keeping things quiet..."

What? Excuse me? I drew back and looked straight into her eyes.

"Char said you might be willing to...do some more work for me?"

That damned Char. I didn't know whether I was going to kiss her or slap her.

She reached out to gently caress my hand. Her soft touch sent tingles through my skin. "Don't tense up on me now," she teased. "I know all about you, sweetie. In my business, it's my job to thoroughly check out all of my employees before they come work for me. I've heard so many good things about you..."

I glanced down at the bathrobe, which had, again, mysteriously opened. What in the hell was going on?

I was then treated to the lovely sight of B in a silver bra and panty set. Her buttermilk skin glistened with the baby oil, as the sparkly silver material barely contained her generous, luscious curves.

She tossed her hair back, settled deeply into the chair, and spread her legs. "Please?"

In a trance, I slowly lowered to my knees. Her heat was intoxicating.

"Hurry, baby," she whispered. I shook off my nerves, as my feminine instinct kicked in. I'd been dreaming about this since earlier, and I relished the chance to taste her. Wasting no time, I slid the tight, glittering fabric underneath her curvy ass and down her long legs, to her artfully manicured toes. The coral pink color captured my attention for a second, but was quickly forgotten when I looked back to the exposed jewel between her thighs.

As I drew in closer to her, I lifted her leg and settled it comfortably on my shoulder. The soft skin tickled my earlobe.

I took one last look at her angelic face. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly open. Somehow she had opened the front clasp of her bra and her golden breasts were now cupped gently in her soft hands. As she fondled her rigid nipples, I chuckled as I realized that she had no idea what she was really in for.

I softly kissed her inner thighs as I made my way to her slick wetness. Her moist body tasted sugary sweet and my fingertips stroked her skin, following my trail of hot kisses.

Her moans brought me back to reality. Though I'd briefly lost track of time, I remembered that we were in a packed arena and only had a few minutes to ourselves. As such, I was determined to make this one of the most enjoyable moments of the night.

Finally done teasing her, I settled in at her wet heat. As my tongue carefully parted her delicate lips, an electric shock ran through us. We both moaned at the contact. She was absolutely delicious. Her flavor was as ripe, juicy cherries; tasty, sweet and succulent.

I boldly kissed and licked her repeatedly, enjoying myself immensely. My tongue ran up and down her juicy slit, as her breathing quickened. Her soft cries and moans intensified, threatening to out us, but I was beyond caring.

Her other leg settled on my shoulders as I drank deeply at the copious honey that flowed from her essence. Not wanting to wait any longer, I set my sights on her clit. The moist little button began to pulsate as I licked and kissed the sensitive flesh. I strummed the pink gem with my tongue, her entire body writhing in ecstasy.

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