The Misadventures of Tiffany Jones

The big airplane taxied to its approach to New York and Tiffany put her note down and looked out of the round window.

"Ray? What are the echelons?" Wondered the dizzy and wide-eyed blonde.

"Isn't that the new group with David Bowie?"

x

From the 39th-floor breakfast room of the New Yorker Hotel, one can see the whole of downtown and clear across the river to Brooklyn. It's a master-of-the-universe view, with the East River glinting in the sun, and the Empire State rising above a jumble of lesser skyscrapers. Clouds and sky and construction cranes were situated amidst the cheap carpet and generic furnishings of the budget motel. Once, the place had been a chosen destination of movie stars, prize fighters, and politicians, Now, in the meltdown of 1970s New York, it was home to a redoubt of budget-conscious tourists, class B office tenants, and college students.

"Blinking flip, Ray! You can't swing a kitten in this room, and the water is a funny colour. PLUS, we have an untold number of additional guests. All with six legs. Eeesh!"

"It's only for three days, pet." Said her optimistic lover, as he used his cigarette lighter to incinerate another cockroach.

Tiffany hopped on one foot to avoid stepping on the skittering bugs.

"The sooner we get this assignment over with, the better."

x

The next day at noon, the couple took a yellow taxi to the sprawling prewar duplex set in a distinguished full-service white-glove cooperative apartment house. Pettigrew's home was just a block off Central Park on the Upper East Side. At about 6,000 square feet, the apartment was huge, with a whopping eight bedrooms and seven full bathrooms. They took the elevator to the tenth-floor flat and were greeted at the door by a young-looking maid.

"Come on in. You're expected."

Throughout, the apartment was spacious, with bright white walls and plenty of light streaming in through large windows. They were led to the living room which was dolled up with a couple of puffy sofas. The room featured an acrylic Les Prismatiques table and chairs, and adding to the modern ambiance was a striking cantilevered glass staircase to the upper level.

Tiffany was particularly impressed with the wide-plank, rift-cut oak wood floors, custom lighting, and integrated sound system. Like nothing she had back home.

"I'd love to hear Slade on that stereo."

Tiffany had chosen her outfit well. Wearing several of the latest biggest trends, the fashion model wore a crocheted top, fur vest, micro skirt, and over-the-knee vinyl boots. The boots and barely there skirt showed off her long legs, and the doll made the effort to flash her knickers every chance she got. There was no denying that she was a beautiful young woman. And she knew that the old geezer would mentally undress her the minute he set eyes on her. Although when he finally appeared, Tiff was surprised to see not a grey-haired man enter the room, a rather dishy fellow in his mid-thirties.

"Oh, my!"

Standing at just over six feet tall, the well-groomed chap wore a cotton corduroy suit in an indulgently Hunter Green colour that gave it a rich luster and depth.

Ray made to stand but the host held up a hand.

"Please, remain seated. I am Mister Pettigrew. Would you care for refreshment?"

"Do you have Pepsi Cola?"

The man shot Tiffany a withering look and shook his head.

"Forgive me. We're all out. I'm sure that Susan could make you some chocolate milk."

The blonde smiled back. Despite his immense wealth, she was struck by how oddly...normal...he appeared.

"Oh, that's okay. Is there a Mrs. Pettigrew?"

"No. I never found the right woman to settle down with. Of course, I have many girlfriends who are willing to humour me with my...exclusive tastes."

He steepled his fingers and cocked his head, shamelessly ogling Tiffany's long legs encased in her vinyl boots.

"You have a charming accent. London?"

"Yes. So, Mister Pettigrew. Ray and myself have been instructed to scout out prewar properties that we might use as a backdrop for the new Marlboro cigarette commercial. And your home looks ideal for the theme."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. We try to plan our film locations during pre-production and much like purchasing equipment or hiring a film crew, it's a crucial component of this process. These locations that we choose have the power to make or break a commercial. This is because film locations are just as important as casting or even writing the script. It has the power to deliver an entirely different experience for our audience. Good or bad."

"So, what you're saying is that you devise a well-thought-out plan for finding the best possible locations for your film. If possible, try to investigate the person, or persons, immediately associated with certain properties. Such as background. business, and so forth?"

Ray looked at Tiffany who looked a bit flummoxed.

"Yes, Sir. These areas are likely to have more legal procedures and precautions for filmmakers, as opposed to regions with less active film history. But we would never dig into your personal affairs."

"Sorry. Could I use your loo?"

"Loo?"

"Little girl's room."

"By all means. Take the stairs and then turn to your left. Just past my study."

As Tiffany excused herself, Ray continued to distract Pettigrew.

"There will be more experienced and professional filmmakers able to help you with the proper steps and legalities of asking for permission, obtaining permits and insurance, paying fees, etc. Marlboro prefers to film on private property rather than renting out public spaces. Logistically, it can also make the filming process much easier and less stressful for our cast and crew."

The inquisitive fashion model saw that the door to the man's study was ajar, and she ventured cautiously inside. Most of the room was taken up by a chair at a bitch desk. This was all too easy, she thought as she approached the desk and lifted the lid to unveil two compartments that were stuffed with diaries, documents, and letters. Turning on a lamp, she read the papers and was a little confused to find the details were in Russian. Picking up a letter, she saw that the postmark was from Moscow. Yet more damning evidence was a sort of blueprint that the bubbly blonde could not make head nor tail off. She switched off the reading lamp and made to leave.

"I wondered who might be the first to come sniffing around for information. I did have odds on it being the CIA."

Tiffany jumped as the room became illuminated and the imposing figure of Pettigrew stood with a loaded pistol pointed directly at her midriff! Her sparking grey eyes flashed at him as she realised he had the drop on her. She could feel his burning gaze on her and the blood pounded in her ears.

"I must compliment you. You are a very attractive young thing. Quite the figure. I'm not surprised you are a model. As for espionage. I suggest you keep posing for cameras. Marlboro is an American consumer product, yet you and your friend are English. Not very convincing. I deliberately left these titbits in the open to see if you would bite."

The tall, imposing man closed the door behind him and motioned for her to put her hands up.

"Now, if you would be so kind as to join your young friend in the living room, We'll have some fun."

They returned to the other room and the nervous babe saw that her boyfriend had his hands tied in front of him and gagged. His eyes were wide with fear as she joined him on the two-seat sofa. As she sat, she threw her left leg up over the other with a seductive motion. Her vinyl boot scraped her other, and her barely there skirt rode up to display ample thigh which drew a lengthy stare from their host.

"You see my dear, having wealth is fine but things can become tedious these days with no thrill or action to be had. The sheer boredom of life itself grates on my nerves. Whereas in Europe, especially in the Soviet Union, things are most exciting and I yearn to be involved."

Tiffany yawned and studied her nails. The man was a total bore, and as transparent as a pane of glass.

"You mean you're a Commie bastard?"

Said Tiff, who immediately wanted to bite her tongue off as her comment resulted in a clout around the ear.

"The Central Committee has conceived a most brilliant plan to belittle and embarrass the United States in a daring prelude to plans of further disruption and eventual downfall. The British will follow soon after. Together, with the greatest and most warped minds in the world, there has been developed a wonder drug. An impotency drug no less. And as I have certain sympathies with the glorious Party, AND I have an abundance of assets and property, I am the bridge if you will between Continents."

"What? An impotency drug? Are you mad? Do you mean to give our boys limp dicks and the Russkies just waltz in? You're off your chump. Oooh!"

Another smack across the chops made her yelp.

"There are one or two teething problems," he continued as he took off his jacket and began to unbutton his plaid shirt.

She watched as he began to walk in a slow, clockwise circle around her, sizing her up as if she were a piece of merchandise. He stopped in front of her, paused, and then began a second revolution, anticlockwise this time.

"Given time these will be solved. The serum has a two fold effect. As well as the drug rendering all male subjects with erectile dysfunction, an injected female develops an irresistible compunction to copulate with anyone nearby. The pandemonium caused will be a severe blow to the decadent United States. One that the supreme Communist Party of the Soviet Union will exploit."

Tiffany furrowed her brow. Science had never been remotely her strongest subject in school. Was it possible that every red-blooded woman in the grip of sexual fever would be unable to get laid?

"It is well known that the Capitalist common man is driven by a depraved biological impulse to fornicate and degrade the lesser sex. Historically he has been dominant in this role and as such, offers an Achilles Heel which shall be ruthlessly exploited. American males are on the whole, less intelligent than Russians. He will be reduced to a quivering mess, totally helpless to be stimulated by the female form. And as a result, he will be enslaved."

Tiffany watched in silence as he undid his belt and unbuttoned the fly of his trousers.

"Isn't there a chance of allergic reactions from some?"

Pettigrew scoffed and jerked his dick.

"What does it matter if a few Americans tragically die in the process? The infection will sweep across the United States, corrupting the corrupted of American society. Fortunately, another serum reverses the effect on the male in the blink of an eye. As in the hypo I have here." He waved it in the air as proof. "So the lucky ones such as myself will have the cream of the crop of the country's finest women. In truth, I admit to being a colossal pervert. My money buys me all the pussy I can eat and more besides. I must have slept with a thousand women, of all colours, and all Nationalities. And, I fancy a bit of English ass might be available before the day is out."

At that, Pettigrew dropped his trousers and underpants and spread his hands. Tiff squirmed on the sofa as her eyes focused on his erect cock. A rather handsome specimen of virility if ever she saw one.

"I find you most intriguing, Miss Jones."

"And a little bit sexy?"

She mocked as she pointed to his boner.

"Indeed, indeed. I wish to show you how the serum might work. Give you an impression of what may be to come."

With his gun still trained on her, he held up a syringe containing a yellowish liquid and moved closer to the anxious model.

"At this juncture, I have to say that I'm a bit squeamish with needles, and I...bloody hell! That hurt, you rotten sod!"

The prosperous American, now stark bollock naked, had abruptly

plunged the syringe into the upper arm of the pretty filly. Within seconds, she experienced a weird and dreamy sensation. She stood up and stretched out her arms. The only thought in her cloudy brain was to strip off all of her clothes.

The Infection took over certain parts of her mind. Particularly those connected to her erogenous zones. The serum in her bloodstream seemed to have complete control of her sexuality. Tiff felt a permanent state of arousal and only sexual intercourse could afford any remedy.

"Oh my, WHAT a cock you have, Mister Pettigrew, Yummy!"

Working with the speed of a stripper, the blonde babe wriggled and wormed her way out of the confines of the top. As she strutted in her thigh-high boots as her mini skirt fell at her ankles. She cheekily turned her back and teased both men by slowly tugging her undies down her willowy legs. She faced them again and the red blooded men gawked at her plump pussy that nestled luxuriously between her alluring pale thighs. The wispy fluff of fair pubes just at the top of her vulva betrayed her imposed arousal with a hint of moisture turning the golden hair slightly darker.

Her hips swayed from side to side as she strutted for them, her hands gliding down her sides as her bottom jutted back. She snapped her head back and then forward so that her wavy hair flew about.

"Wanna piece of me, Mister Pettigrew? I know you want me."

She wiggled her hips to and fro in a salacious humping as the American injected Ray, who was stripped of his jeans.

"Notice, Miss Jones. How your boyfriend stays as limp as wet lettuce despite best efforts to arouse him. The serum has rendered him impotent."

Indeed, Ray's sorry example of manhood looked like a shrunken carrot toy penis as he desperately wiggled his bottom into the sofa. Poor lamb.

"Oh no! Can't get it up? What a shame. Miss Jones is gagging for it too."

Under the maddening influence of the drug, the blonde's pussy ached and itched with the need to feel a man embedded deep inside her.

"Okay, Mister Pettigrew. Sit down there and let me suck that big thing of yours."

He grinned and sat next to the gagged and tied Ray and held up his solid erection for the pair of them to behold.

"Great idea, blondie, Let your sorry excuse of a lover watch a real man get it on."

Tiffany knelt on the carpet between his outstretched legs and took hold of his big dick. He grinned from ear to ear as Ray looked on, tears forming as he was forced to watch. Pettigrew closed his eyes as his bloated helmet was then smothered by her hot mouth. She twisted and hopped on her knees and pressed her thighs against her throbbing muff, as her mouth worked on his throbbing cock. The more she sucked on his hot length, the more she became consumed by unadulterated lust. Moving up, she straddled his leg with her aching loins and shunted on his thigh as her mouth sucked him in further.

"Look at this, boy. She's humping my leg!"

Ray cut a pathetic figure as his shrunken cock pointed south in shame. Oblivious to his discomfort, his girl undulated on the sturdy leg of their host with her hungry cunt. Crazed with the sex drug she swallowed his entire six inches with a huge gulp of air as Pettigrew flung his head back in bliss. Her cute nose was tickled by his pubes as she deep throated him, and it was a toss up as to what drooled more, her mouth or her pussy.

"Best blow job I ever had."

The cute model sucked the rock hard cock with quick fire bobs of her head that let her luxurious fair locks fall across his belly. The more she filled her mouth with his knob, the more she wanted him in her twat. Her tightly sealed lips formed a seal around his glans and then she exhaled and he popped out with saliva bubbles on his bell end. Spit dripped down the underside of his shaft in a slow ride down to his balls.

"Eat my pussy, big boy!" She demanded with pleading grey eyes and a sticky chin.

They switched places and Tiffany took his seat. Now, he went on bended knee and his beaming face came to within an inch of her gleaming slit. He grinned as she widened her legs and dug her boots into the carpet.

"I changed my mind, fuck me! Ram it in me all the way, I must have cock!"

Tiffany's enforced ardour raged in her loins as she bucked up from the seat.

"Patience my dear. Patience."

He tweaked open her outer folds with his fingers and breathed out hot air on her hole. She stiffened and her mouth formed an O as she felt a series of lustful tremors throughout her body. He traced out lines along her inner thighs as her cunt leaked fluids profusely. Then his tongue darted out and made a broad swipe from her anus to her hard clit, coating her quivering slit with a film of saliva.

"Heavens!" She cried as she experienced a mini orgasm.

She arched her lower body as she welcomed the tingling that made her stomach do flip flops. Her fingers ran through his thick head of hair as he started to lick her drooling cunt with a steady series of exaggerated licks up and down, then from side to side. As he made progress into her pink inner folds, the point of his tongue tickled her hard nub which set her off into a gibbering mess.

"I need a cock, I need a cock!"

The rasp of his tongue on her sensitive skin made her giddy and her wide hips ground into the seat, leaving a smear of her love juices. His nose became wedged in her downy pubic hair as his jaw flexed hard and fast.

"Super!" She cried and grunted when he inserted two probing fingers into her honeypot.

Her boots drummed into the carpet as her legs trembled and shook. Poor, limp Ray looked on in dismay as the sex crazed minx moaned loudly, her pussy oozing into the face of her tormentor.

"Right! Get on that sofa, you devil!"

Tiffany stood up with her legs astride and put both hands on her hips in a dominant stance. Pettigrew nodded as he leered at the breathtaking image of the stark naked blonde in those thigh-high boots. He let her straddle his seated frame, enjoying her pert buttocks that pressed firmly on his groin as she prepped herself. Her hand went between them as she fished for his boner and moved her red-hot pussy in position. Lost in a hazy rapture, she sank down and his stiff cock brushed past her soft labia as she impaled herself on his whole shaft.

"Now, that's what I'm talking about!"

Without further ado the doped-up vixen began to squirm and gyrate on his generous pole and then rode up and down with gasps of pure delight. As she sank down on him, so he thrust up, lunging into her welcoming cunt as a torrent of wicked pleasure engulfed the steamy blonde. Her perky tits bounced as she bopped on him with little squeals of ecstasy, loving the feel of being totally stuffed. Her rapid motions lifted her clear up off his groin before she slammed back down again with louds slaps of flesh on flesh.

"It's so big! I love it! I need your cock soooo bad!"

His hands took a hold of her slim waist as he steered her energetic strokes on his pulsating prick. And the more they fucked, the more Tiffany lusted for his dick as the drug flooded her bloodstream. She whimpered as she looked down upon the body of the sweating virile man beneath her as his great cock tore up inside her tight quim. Now she understood the dastardly plan and knew the terrible consequences would be a national disaster if Pettigrew and the Commies used the serum worldwide.

"Bastard, you won't win...you. I...oh fudge! Give it to me hard!"

Her smooth ass cheeks were lifted and separated as he paused with half of his log inserted in her pussy, teasing and enticing her further. He took her left tit and smothered it with his open mouth and slobbered on the soft flesh.

She shrieked when he flipped her so that she was now on the sofa, face down and ass up.

"This how you want me, you beast? This how you like to English girls? Like a dog?"

"Yes, got a problem with that?"

Tiffany hissed, knowing that her answer would be an affirmative. Her overriding thought was only for him to ram his stiff cock back in her sodden pussy. Damn this drug! It was quite effective!