Stalking Chelsea

"That did it! That son of a..." Chelsea stopped before finishing the thought.

"Isn't that the guy...?" Vixen suggested.

"Yes, that's the jerk that had me hiring the P.I.s that caught... well you know," Chelsea informed us, having indicated me with the nod of her head, "When we found out that guy was a piss-ant reporter, a friendly word from the guys and he backed off... we thought he had backed off anyway."

"He's going to be all over Barbie as if she was covered in honey," Vixen predicted, fretting her hair.

"So much for keeping her to myself. Damn him."

"Does this mean something?" I asked about the broadcast, waving my hand toward the set.

"It means that you are going to have to become part of the business. At least to a minor extent."

"Why should it mean that?"

"You are out in the public eye now. I can't just show you on the web site to members only. Now we are going to have to respond to inquiries. Since you are an unknown, uh... were an unknown, a couple of dozen magazines, producers, agents, and club owners are going to hound us until you will do a layout or two, and maybe some appearances. After the advertisement that news report represents, we are going to be hard-pressed proving it wasn't a preplanned stunt. We can rely on Billy and Steve to support us, behind the scenes, but their employer will order them to stay away from the press and off camera. We can prove it in court if it comes to that. But the court of public opinion will have already made up its mind."

"As an entertainer, you will have a hell of a time getting a restraining order against 'the press' too," Vixen confirmed.

"But I'm not..." I started to insist.

"With that body, and today's video in the court's hands how are you going to prove it? They will assume the only reason for tits that big, is to make money with them. Just as they are assuming you are, a publicity-hound. The reporter we can handle I think. He agreed to stay off my case, due to some things we had on him. He surely thinks that he can go after you and he's not breaking the agreement. He will be made aware however that he is mistaken," Chelsea threatened.

I knew she would do it... I just wondered if I would have a sister in another year...

"I saw that."

"Saw what?" I asked innocently.

"No Barbie, I wouldn't offer to make him like you, an eunuch maybe, but not a woman. I knew that you were a good person at heart, why else would you be so, trusting?"

I was blushing to my toes. 'I have to start wearing a tin foil hat,' I thought, 'Maybe I can screen her from reading my mind.'

"She's not reading your mind Barbie. She only has to read your face. You show on your face what you are thinking. My advice to you is, don't ever take up poker," Vixen advised, "Unless it's strip poker and you want to loose..."

"The voice of experience," Chelsea teased, "You loose all of the time too. I didn't know it was on purpose until now though."

"Okay, you caught me. I'm just an exhibitionist at heart."

One brave fellow came up to our table and asked, "Ah, would you mind telling me where you are dancing Miss Charms?"

I would have thought he was referring to Chelsea, if it weren't for the fact that he was staring at me.

"Ahhhh..." I replied, trying to think fast.

"Barbie is only appearing at www.ChelseaCharms.com for now. She will post an itinerary as soon as her bookings are firm. Such as, yourself," Chelsea replied with a glance at his crotch, saving him from my rapier-like witty reply. (Yah, right...)

He flushed and escaped while his manhood was still intact.

Bethany was doing a quick march to our table and told us, "You guys might want to slip out the back," she pointed towards someone outside, but on his way in with a camera crew.

"Quick Barbie, hand me my laptop," Vixen insisted.

While the reporter was talking to patrons and trying to figure out where we were, Vixen's laptop booted, when it was up, she opened her 'My Pictures' folder and double clicked on a picture.

The reporter had finally spied us and was moving in for the kill... when he noticed the image on the laptop, pointed towards the camera. He skidded to a halt, and bustled the camera crew out of the restaurant. When he returned, sans-camera, he was madder than a hornet in a hurricane, "You told me no one would ever see those pictures!"

"Yes, I did. You told me you would stay away from me," Chelsea accused back.

"I wasn't even going to talk to you," he returned.

"My image would have been on your newscast, I felt it only fair that yours was too," she stared him down with a squinty-eyed 'Clint Eastwood' glare.

"I'm just trying to make a living."

"Next time, the images go public. The panties and corset go quite well with your eyes, don't, you girls agree?"

Vixen and I nodded in agreement, huge dopey smiles pasted on our faces.

"That's dirty pool!"

"If you don't like the water, don't swim over your head," Chelsea advised, knowing she had him by the testes.

He harrumphed, spun and fled before we switched pictures to even worse ones...

Vixen cleared her screen and powered down her system.

"I think I need a PDA with those on it..." I quipped, trying to break the gloomy mood.

Vixen pretended to have one in her hand, hiding her face, saying, "NO PICTURES, NO INTERVIEWS."

"Yah and the image of him being boned from behind on the PDA..." I added.

"I should have asked him where he found that corset while I had him, it's beautiful," Chelsea added.

We busted up laughing like teenage girls with a secret.

It wasn't long and we had to leave. The manager wouldn't let us pay, so we left Bethany a great tip. If she hadn't warned us, I would have been six O'clock news fodder.

We tearfully said our goodbyes to Vixen and promised to stay in touch. I felt so empty when her plane took off, I cried and had to have Chelsea comfort me. (Damn hormones.)

I was heading towards the exit and back to the SUV, Chelsea at the handles, and pushing me through the crowded airport chatting happily, "I've got you all to myself finally."

We went through the terminal into the parking garage and I heard my cell phone ringing. I reached into my purse, (That feels weird to type...) picked out my Barbie phone, and said, "Hello, Barbie's phone."

"Guess who?" the voice on the other end asked.

"Is this Billy?"

"Why, Yes it is Billy. Do you want to go out and have hot unprotected sex with me," Vixen asked in as deep a voice as she could muster.

"You can't be in San Francisco yet... where are you, calling from?"

"I'm calling you from the air-phone in the airplane's lounge. I've been entertaining the passengers by stripping, and making a hell of a lot of money. I was calling to ask if you want in on, this gig?"

"I don't think they want to watch a pair of boobs fall down a lot," I sighed.

"Are you kidding? They'd pay big money to see that and you know it," Vixen laughed calculatingly.

"I suppose I do, but my nipples are sore enough from a lady I won't mention's extended gnawing upon them, thank you," I declared mock-snootily.

"Oooh, stop teasing me like that... I'm sitting on this boring flight next to a priest no less," she groaned.

"Maybe you should confess to him. It would be interesting to see his face after you told him what you have been doing for the last couple of days," I laughed, knowing the poor guy would have probably heard it all before.

"Ooh, you're mean. Trapped on a plane trying to hide the bulge in his pants while I confess my sins in all their gory detail... That's just plain mean," she giggled.

"Is that Vixen?"

"Yes, she's doing a lap dance with a priest on the airliner," I told Chelsea, purposely leaving the microphone to the phone open.

"Hallelujah at least she isn't bored."

"I think she's safe. She isn't a teenage boy, so he won't be interested..." I giggled.

I got in stereo, "Ooh that's so bad..."

"But it makes you feel better doesn't it?" I inquired.

"Actually, I'd rather be sitting next to a well-hung stud who's drooling down my cleavage for the whole flight. At least it wouldn't be boring," Vixen informed me, "I know you would rather it be Chelsea or some other hot girl, and even though I like girls too, I prefer a stiff rod when I can get one."

"Well, I can understand, intellectually if not erotically. I just wonder if the ticketing agent set you up with the priest to keep from having to hose you down during the flight," I teased her.

"It's a conspiracy. Those..." Vixen seemed to be getting ready to go on a rant, "Ah, the world is against a girl just wanting to have a good time."

"I'll have to take your word for that. I just don't have any experience yet. So far I have been kept really busy," I informed her.

"Lucky girl."

"I suppose so. You have a fun flight and don't do anything I wouldn't do," I told her, but then had to pull the phone away from my ear a little.

"What did she say?" Chelsea urged, having stopped us at her SUV.

"She told me that she sure as hell was going to do plenty of what I won't do, and..." I motioned her to lean over close. When she did, I pulled her even closer and placed a lip-lock on her.

We kissed passionately for a while when I heard somewhere off behind me a female voice say, "Eww gross!"

Chelsea's grin broke our kiss and she said, "Another closed minded prude heard from."

"Yes, can't a girl show open affection to her owner in public, even these days?" I replied with a smile.

Chelsea helped me up into the vehicle and took the wheelchair back.

I must have dozed off, because, when I came around we were on 35W headed north towards home.

"Have a nice nap Barbie?"

"I had a funny dream though."

"Funny ha, ha, or funny strange?" Chelsea asked.

"Funny strange. I'm really weirded out by it," I told her, still reviewing it in my head.

"Well, tell me about it," Chelsea prompted as she drove through traffic.

"I'm kind of uncomfortable talking about this one," I admitted shyly.

"After all we have shared and all I have done for you, you won't trust me with a dream?" Chelsea said, looking hurt.

I heard what she said and I had to think about it very hard. All she had done for me, and what we shared... I reviewed it in my head repeatedly, but I couldn't reach a resolution yet. I did however decide that I might as well talk to Chelsea about it and maybe she could make heads or tails of it.

"I ah... was dreaming about being with... um... Barry, the bartender from Hooters," I admitted, blushing a bright crimson.

"What's wrong with that? He is an attractive looking man, after all," she agreed.

"I'm a guy..." I told her, "It's just... making it with another man... and I just woke up with soaking wet panties. I'm still horny even after waking up."

"Oh, I've had that happen to me too. I love how it feels waking up like that... as long as there's someone there to bang my brains out," she happily shared with me. "I wish I could be there for you now, but I think we would crash if I were."

"It's okay, I understand. It's no more frustrating than waking up with a boner," I informed her casually.

"I have always wondered how that felt for a man," Chelsea admitted, "I guess you are the only one in the world who can really answer that. I think it's really special. You probably just dreamt what you did, due to your chat with Vixen at the airport, don't you think?"

"I guess. What bothers me the most is I have never had a dream about another man in my life..."

"You haven't had a uterus before in your life either Barbie. It's only natural for you to feel differently now. You have a completely different chemistry in your body now. Is there anything wrong with you feeling horny for a man?"

"I'm going to have to think on that one for a while," I admitted.

"No pressure honey. If you never like men, that's okay with me. You might wind up sleeping alone when I have a man over, but you can have dates over too."

The idea of sharing Chelsea with a man was a new one to me. She had been slowly opening up new things for me to think about all day. I was somewhat pensive for the rest of the ride home and I think Chelsea knew I needed some time to work in my head alone so she didn't try to chat with me much.

We made it home and I had resolved to show Chelsea how much I appreciated her.

She opened the door to help me step out and I clamped onto her as if for my very life.

"Whoa! What's all this for?" she asked, trying to hang on, since I had my legs around her waist and arms around her neck.

"Thank you for being so nice to me," I told her, tears streaming down my face. (Damn hormones.)

"You're welcome. Now can I put you down? Between my boobs, your boobs, and your weight off the front of me, I'm not sure my back can handle much more," she informed me as she groped my butt.

I let go and she placed me steadily on my feet, "Do you think you can make it in on your own, or do I need to hire in a wheelchair for you?" she teased.

"Nah, I don't need the wheelchair. Could you carry me though?" I proposed, groping her delicious bottom back.

"I don't mind carrying you... piggy back," she laughed, "Then you offset my boobs."

We played grab ass all the way from the garage to my bedroom. She'd grab my bottom and I'd grab whatever was closest, while trying to dance away from her.

Once in the room Chelsea said, "Get out of those clothes now and put this on." Chelsea handed me a scarlet satin negligee to wear.

I took it and remembered in time when I went to drop my panties and hose, and did it by squatting and not by bending at the waist. It was much easier to pull the negligee over my head. I luxuriated in the feel of the shimmering fabric as it shimmied down my body.

"All ready?"

"Yes," I answered, figuring on our having a hot time in bed.

"Good, come on," she led me to the office and turned on the computer and web cam.

"Time to go to work," she remarked.

"Work?" I asked.

"Yes Barbie, you are going to be an internet sensation, no matter what you do now, so we have to get you on the net and have you tell your story of today's events. This way, you have supporters other than your brassiere. You get to have people out there who expound your point of view for you, and all it costs you is being seen in your negligee."

"You're amazing. I wouldn't have thought of this," I shook my platinum blonde head, watching the long hair float about, realizing that I hadn't thought of my long hair once today.

A flood of, "Hi Chelsea," and, "Evening Chelsea," voice and text messages both.

"Hi guys," Chelsea waved, "You remember my cousin, Barbie Charms, don't you?"

A flood of yes and no came through, so she went on, "Barbie was accidentally on the web-cam yesterday, and some of you got a look at her in private. Well today, something happened and she wants to set the record straight. I'm going to let her tell you about it. Go ahead Barbie."

"I'm nervous about this. I haven't done anything like this before..." I began.

There was a plethora of encouragements sent in to me on both media.

"Okay... Chelsea, Vixen, and I went to The Mall of America today..." I went on to tell the story of what happened at the mall and how someone shot a video of the whole thing. Nothing was wrong with that. Where the trouble came in was when a sleaze of a reporter got hold of the video and made an on- air report, accusing me of pulling a publicity stunt, using my name as evidence of this, and the presence of Chelsea and Vixen when I fainted. I included the fact that he told the public that security had to escort me from the mall, when it was just Billy being nice and pushing my wheelchair for me.

There was immediately an inquiry for the name of the reporter, which Chelsea supplied. There were questions of what TV station the guy worked for and what time the piece aired. After a whole slew of questions, Chelsea stopped them and stated, "Now, I don't want anyone to do anything to the reporter, I believe I have handled that, but just in case, we wanted to tell everyone the true story tonight in order to set the record straight."

The replies were very encouraging concerning the reporter trouble, however, after that calmed down I was being hit on by all of the guys. I played along with the men and even let Chelsea expose my boobs for the members of her website.

Chelsea signed off with at statement that I wasn't scheduled to appear anywhere and for the time being, I would be appearing exclusively on her website.

We signed off and I said, "Whew... this is tough work. Do you do this everyday?"

"Yes Barbie, we need to keep up the website and appear regularly for the subscribers, and we have a photo shoot tomorrow so we will have to be beautiful. Come on I'll show you how to keep your face beautiful and you can help me with mine."

"That sounds like fun," I told her.

"Well, after a while it's like shaving is for men. It can get to be kind of a drag," she admitted.

"Even when someone helps?" I asked, batting my eyelashes at her.

"Let's find out," she spirited me into the bathroom and we cleansed each other's faces, becoming quite giggly in the process.

When we were finally done, Chelsea told me, "I knew that it would be more fun this way!"

We bounced into my canopy bed together and fell right to sleep. I wish I could describe us having hot and heavy sex, but we were both bushed after our long day.

**********

Learning the Ropes ************************ Waking up next to Chelsea was such an incredible experience all I could do was stare at the even rise and fall of her chest. Knowing what a genuinely nice person was inside there was even more amazing. I lay there watching her for over twenty minutes before she asked, with her eyes still closed, "Seen enough, or would you rather start the day orgasming?

"Oh, I'm horny as hell, but it's nice lying here just watching you sleep too," I admitted, "I would have started nibbling your nipples half an hour ago, but I thought you could use the sleep."

"Oh, but my nipples so desperately need nibbling..." she confirmed.

I needed no more encouragement than that. I used my tongue to stimulate her nipples, and my lips to tease them. It wasn't quite immediately but it was close, when my pussy started drooling as if I had sprung a leak. Her teasing and playing with my nipples sent me into quivering ecstasy.

We moved on to tongue wrestling and fingering each other to squirming, yearning, edge of orgasmic, desire. After a couple of quick minor orgasms, Chelsea jumped from bed and disappeared into my closet. When she returned she had something behind her back and simply told me to get on my hands and knees, while she came up from behind me.

Imagine my surprise when she invaded me with a large jelly dildo, affixed to the harness she was wearing. I was so wet, and since she had lubed up the dildo, it slipped inside me with very little resistance. I was shocked, then I began relaxing and enjoying the delicious sensation of being filled.

Of course, this wasn't the first time I had a dildo in me, but it was the first time that my lover's hips were driving the dildo. The feeling was altogether different. Chelsea was slamming into my wide backside, clasping tightly to my hips, my huge boobs swinging back and forth while she fucked me from behind.

The thought as much as the act was driving me over the precipice of my orgasm, "Ah... oh... ah... ooh... oh god... ah... oh god... oof... ah god... uuuuuuuuhhhhh!"

I went as limp as a rag doll, but Chelsea didn't stop. She kept a hold of my butt and even though my upper body was resting on my boobs, the steady rhythm of her banging continued.

"Oh, don't stop... oooh... uh... oh... uh... uh... uh..." I was once again riding the orgasmic surf. However, this wave was feeling more like a tsunami. Chelsea changed up her rhythm to keep me from going over the crest. Holding me right at the top of the wave, as it built ever higher. I was squealing and groaning, biting my own hand and twiddling my nipples as if they were a short wave radio and I wanted to reach anyone who would talk.