0 comments/ 22397 views/ 0 favorites Gallagher & White Ch. 01 By: Christopher Tracy Prologue The woman in black knew she had done her homework properly. The overcast cloud cover blotted out the moon completely, and what little breeze existed was enough to make the leaves rustle but would not move the cloud cover. The darkness would give her the time she needed. She crouched between two bushes, five or six feet from the ground floor window that opened into the storeroom. She'd carried out a reconnaissance visit twice previously, under heavy disguise both times, and was confident she knew what to do. Taking a good long look around her first, she emerged from between the bushes and approached the window. First thing - gain access to the building. Taking a suction cup and planting it squarely on the glass, she cut a large circle around it with a diamond tipped glasscutter, before tapping the circle and knocking it out. She laid the circle of glass under the nearest bush. Then, the same process to remove the inner pane. So far, so good. A lithe arm passed through the two holes and released the window catch. That would be enough to open the pane, and in itself would not be enough to set off the alarm. All the alarms were motion activated, which presented the tricky part. The window she had picked was almost at the corner of the modern red-bricked building, and if she had her geography right she would be almost directly underneath the sensor. The sensor's field would be set to view outwards into the room, not almost directly below it, as she would be. If she was careful, and moved slowly, she would succeed. Agonisingly, unbearably slowly, she raised the window one millimetre at a time until it was fully raised. The whole process took fifteen minutes and at the end, the muscles in her arms screamed with a searing pain. She clambered onto the window ledge, and turned so that her back was to the interior of the room. That way, she could inch along the ledge and stretch her arm out along the wall, and under the sensor. One snip with the wire cutters, and the sensor cable that the security firm had made only the most perfunctory attempt to hide was severed. She jumped silently down into the room, and waited, crouched in the darkness, for a full three minutes, just listening for any sign that her plan had gone wrong and her entry had been detected. With no sign forthcoming, she unclipped the tiny pen torch from her belt. The narrow beam darted around the room, up and down shelves, over packages and boxes until it stopped over one flat, rectangular package. She looked at the return address, which matched the address in Holland that she had been told of. She found the FedEx packing number, and that too matched perfectly. This was the parcel she was looking for. Gently, she lifted it from the shelf, careful not to dislodge any of the haphazardly stacked boxes around it. She didn't know much of what was in the parcel, other than it was a painting and she was to treat it with the utmost care. She'd been shown a small print of the picture in case the parcel had been opened, but her Intelligence had been good and the parcel had still been wrapped as she'd been told. She briefly remembered a picture of a preaching Jesus, surrounded by worshippers, but the picture meant nothing. 'Whatever floats your boat' was her attitude. In truth, 'The Adoration of the Masses' by Rene de Vigie-St.Amorry was not a well-known piece, although beautifully painted. Almost nothing was known of the painter, and no other works of his were known of. The painting was only remarkable because it had been painted as a Royal commission, but historians could not agree which King of France had requested it because the age of the painting had never been definitively settled on. Central to the picture, Jesus stood with his right forefinger raised, left hand cupped in front of his belly as though holding something, right foot forward as though taking a bold step. Around him, a throng of people were massed. To the left of the picture, a number of penitent women stood with their heads bowed in respect. To the right of the picture, a number of elderly seated shepherds with their staffs pointed at him in wonder. The woman in black marvelled at how simple the job had been. The bulk of the work had been in reconnaissance, checking the position of the storeroom, finding the sensors etc. Once inside, she'd been barely five minutes and she thought of it as easy money. Well above her usual rates, which she assumed was meant to buy her silence. The tall woman with the posh accent who had engaged her services would have the other half of her money ready at the meeting place tomorrow night, and she looked forward to receiving it. She'd already spent most of it anyway. 1 The theft was reported at around nine fifteen, when someone investigated the cause of the draught in the stockroom. Lord Gallagher, the owner of the museum, was informed some ten minutes later and was not amused, although his notorious temper was itself tempered by the small scale of the crime. The most perplexed amongst his staff was the buyer, who had successfully bid on the painting at auction only the previous week. The painting itself had only just been delivered, and indeed had not even been opened, and yet the warehouse supervisor was absolutely adamant that that was only thing missing. When questioned by police, the buyer remembered that despite the relative obscurity of the painting (combined with the fact that on a technical level, the painting wasn't even that good) there was another bidder who had seemed indecently keen to get hold of the drawing, who constantly referred to a mobile phone before raising his bid. As fierce as the bidding had been, it had stopped very suddenly, and the buyer had been left unopposed in the bidding. The buyer, Lisa, was telling the story (with embellishments) to her colleague Tara in the canteen over lunch. Tara White, a tall and leggy 24-year old with dark blonde hair and a Masters degree, was some sort of PA to Lord Gallagher and Lisa was sure that anything she said would get back to Lord Gallagher one way or another - if she didn't say anything to her boss directly, then she'd tell his daughter Eve, who was Tara's best friend. Lisa was sure to say how fierce the bidding had been, and he she knew that there was just 'something special' about that painting and that was why it had been stolen. (In fact, the truth was somewhat different. Lisa had had a long, liquid lunch with a buyer from another museum and had simply fallen asleep in the afternoon session, and woke up with three lots left to bid on. She'd not wanted to go back to work empty-handed). Eve feigned a polite level of interest, but her keen mind was already running through the various scenarios for such a selective crime. There was obviously something special about the painting, although she doubted whether the buyer had actually seen that for herself. Someone definitely had though. She'd taken her degree in the history of art, specialising on the Renaissance period, and she'd never heard of this fellow Vigie-St.Amorry. Maybe it was a place name and his own name was something different - as in, Rene from Vigie-St.Amorry, although she could not recall hearing of such a place. Back in her office, she pulled up a shot of it from an Internet database. It wasn't a masterpiece, in truth it was a rather charmless and poorly constructed piece, more befitting of work done by a pupil rather than a master. The phone buzzed, and she snatched it up with an impatient 'Yes?' as though annoyed to be pulled away from her thoughts. The frown turned to a smile when she recognised Eve's voice. "Hey you, how's work?" came the chirpy voice from the other end of the phone. "Hey you, how's slobbing around all day spending Daddy's money?" Both girls laughed. "Well Tara, today I had lunch with Simon, you know the dark haired one from that boy band, what's their name-" "You didn't-" "I bloody well did!" "Oh you cow! He's gorgeous. How did you get to meet him?" "The normal way, his agent rang mine, blah blah blah. And do you know something?" "More than you can possibly imagine." "He's as thick as bloody pig shit!" They laughed again. Tara marvelled at her friend's comments - 'the normal way - his agent rang mine' - as though that was how everyone got fixed up. She knew Eve tried to live down the 'Daddy's little rich girl' tag, but most of the time she failed quite dismally, especially whenever she opened her mouth, which was often. It would help if she weren't an in-demand photo model with a reputation for being a bit of a spoilt madam, the modelling being something Tara was sure she only did to wind up her father. Physically Eve was the opposite of Tara - natural brunette with a lusty sheen, five and a half feet tall, proud cheekbones and bee-stung lips. In spite of it all, they were true friends and loved each other dearly. "So what are you up to today then, honey?" "Haven't you heard? There's been a break in here at the museum. A new painting has been stolen." "That accounts for Daddy's bad mood I suppose. Was it one of the good ones, or those awful new ones where they can't colour inside the lines?" "Well, that's the funny thing. It's quite an unknown painting really, I'm not even sure why we wanted it, let alone anyone else. I've never even heard of the painter." "And you've got a brain the size of a planet when it comes to these things, I know. Sounds terribly interesting, I'm sure we'll get to hear about it over dinner tonight, assuming Daddy comes home. Fancy doing something later, maybe we could go out?" "I'm not sure Eve, your favourite bars always charge a tenner for a single vodka." "That's the idea honey, keeps the riff-raff out. Have you got any better ideas?" "Well, I was going to stay here and work late actually, there's something about this painting that doesn't quite make sense." "Okay, well you work late and I'll come over to your place for around six." "You know, six o'clock is not actually working late." "Oh, it is. Look, I've said the 'w' word so many times I think I've got a grey hair coming. Are you sure you won't come out?" "Well, I want to look-" "I know, I know, you want to look for this painting. Tell you what, why don't I help?" "Erm, help? It's been stolen Eve, it's not lost. It didn't fall behind the sofa or anything." "Ooh look, sarcasm. Well, don't the police have any suspects or anything?" "No, but I do. The girl who bid on it, Lisa, was telling me that someone was terribly keen to beat her to that painting at the auction, but then all of a sudden stopped bidding. Even tried to buy the painting of her when the auction finished. I was just wondering if that person decided to get hold of the painting by more nefarious means." "By having sex with a corpse?" There was a pause while Tara worked out what her friend meant. "No Eve, not by having sex with a corpse. That's necrophilia, something else altogether. Nefarious, it means-" "Yes, yes, I'm sure it's very interesting. So who was this mystery bidder?" "Well, I called the auction house and got a list of all the other people who were at that auction. There's only one I don't know or who isn't connected to an organisation I know in some way. There's a name, Nathan Silberman. He bought one other piece and gave a billing address in New York." "Ooh, I haven't been to New York in ages." "You were there last month!" "That's what I mean. Let's go look for it! We'll find this guy, this silverfish-" "Silberman." "- and ask him outright what he's done with Daddy's horrid painting!" "I don't think we can just walk in and ask him outright. He may not have it." "You're right, we need to be more tricky, more sneaky... we could break in and search for it! I can get in anywhere." "Yes, we all know you're only a size six, thank you..." "No, I'm serious! We'll go get that painting back and Daddy might get me a new car, and you can get a pay rise and everybody's happy." "No! I can't just wander of from work like that." "Hmmm... I know! That French chap with the underwear, the designer fellow that keeps bothering me, what's his name?" "Maxime, Maxime Bossis." "That's the one. He keeps ringing my agent wanting me to model some new scanties for him. I'll tell Daddy that I'm going to NY to wear some posh knickers for a Frenchman to take pictures of, and he'll tell me to take you to 'keep an eye on me' like he always does..." "He never says that...." "He does honey, I listen at the door of his office. He'll tell you to be my chaperone, and then we get to go to New York together! It'll be fun, it's ages since we've had a girly trip away." "I don't know..." "I do, my mind's quite made up, I'll get Marie to set it up now with Maxime." "You're going to do the modelling? I thought that was just a cover." "Heavens, no, Maxime does the best knickers. Tiny little things! He always lets me keep them afterwards, so let's go let the Frenchman get his jollies and we'll see if we can find this painting. What do you say?" As normal, it didn't really matter what Tara said once Eve had her mind made up, which would be why just a few hours later she found herself waiting at Gatwick for the Virgin Airlines flight to New York. The flight took seven and a half hours and they arrived at JFK (author's note - check this) at six the next morning. The photo shoot was scheduled for the next day, something Tara suspected Eve had arranged so they could spend the day shopping, catching up with Eve's many New York friends, and generally just gadding about. They checked into their Broadway hotel and were shown to adjoining suites. After a nap to catch up, they took lunch with Maxime, the French designer and his assistant Marie, to discuss their plans for the shoot the next day. The shoot would take place at an extremely seedy hotel in the Bronx, all dirty walls and bedraggled furnishings. As far as anyone could make out, this was to highlight the contrast the difference between the exclusive and outrageously expensive lingerie - the cost of one particular bra would be enough to hire the room they would be shooting in for an entire month - and the squalid surroundings. Tara had many misgivings about the location, the reasoning behind the location, and so on, but instead took to privately wondering why posh women would see these fancies knickers in a Bronx flea-pit and suddenly decide their life's work was to own a pair. Worlds apart, a thought that often occurred when she was with any acquaintance of Eve's. Maxime was fawning over Eve, as many men did. The ice-blue eyes could give off a stare that would split obsidian, and she could be as bitchy and sarcastic as the loudest queen, but when she wanted to she could be so charming, so affable and approachable that she'd been known to illicit serious proposals of marriage inside fifteen minutes. The real Eve lay somewhere between those two - fun-loving, friendly and generous, definitely sensuous, but accustomed to getting her own way and pouting when there were obstacles to that. His big plan for the shoot was to pair Eve with another girl and have them shot in this sleazy dive, done up to look as cheap as possible, as though they were two call-girls you'd hired for the hour. They'd hired Geoff Thorn, an arrogant young Londoner, to do the shoot. Thorn was known for many controversial pieces of work, his photography, his paintings, his rants about left-wing politics... he was pretty much rent-a-soapbox. It seemed that he never tired of hearing his own voice and was definitely from the school that any publicity was good publicity. Tara could see the ads now, before they were even shot. Not only were they going to be billboard ads in the States, they would be given away in a special supplement in the forthcoming edition of the UK's top selling lad mag. This was always something that Tara found bizarre - how many pairs of $500 knickers would they sell through a men's magazine? The other girl was a controversial US rapper by the name of Sabrina. Half Spanish and half Brazilian, she had the looks and body of a supermodel, the intelligence of a politician and the mouth of a marine. If half the rumours about her were true, then she re-defined the term wild child. Eve owned one of her CDs: it was in the glove compartment of her car right at that moment. Known partly for her pragmatic, real-life raps over languid, Blue Note inspired jazzy rhythms, she was also much in demand as a model with a tall, slim figure and seemingly endless legs, and cascading loose jet-black curls. Her delicious caramel coloured complexion had lent itself to some stunning photosets, and, if the urban myths were to be believed, some amateur hard-core pornography in the days before she was famous. They met early next morning to take advantage of the wan, early morning sunlight. The room itself was dirty, with bedraggled curtains of an indeterminate colour and age. The sun struggled to find a way through, casting long shadows in the rest of the room. There was no carpet and the floorboards were coarse and stained. The few rugs were similarly disgusting, and there was a smell in the air as though the windows had not been opened in some time. The wallpaper was completely missing from most parts of the wall, and what little remained was a hideous seventies design in beige and brown. Disturbingly, there were three bullet holes in the wall opposite the door, and there were bullets still in two of them. There was a bag of underwear in some seriously sleazy styles and colours, which delighted both girls. Thorn (as he insisted on being called) was overjoyed to see that the girls were both up for it, and neither showed any false modesty, peeling off in front of him almost immediately to start trying the undies on. The lingerie was mostly lace with either silk or PVC, with stylings borrowed heavily from bondage paraphernalia - studs, little loops of chain, collars, and so on. They'd both insisted on doing their own make-up, which meant that there was just the three of them in the hotel room in Queens that morning. The make-up was cheap and trampy, smudged black and enticingly over-the-top reds. Eve had gone for the slightly more feminine lingerie in dark blue silk with exquisite black lace, while Sabrina's set was black PVC with white lace. Both girls wore stockings; Eve's attached to a suspender belt, whilst Sabrina's were fishnet hold-ups. They started with some very tame shots, the girls sat in their lingerie with their backs to the wall, staring out of the window, purposely looking bored and disinterested. A few more of them appearing to fasten and unfasten each other's bras or suspender belts. Then, in a moment when Thorn was changing the roll of film in his camera, Sabrina leaned in close to Eve's ear. "Wanna know what I did this morning?" She whispered in her honeyed, Latino drawl. "What?" "I had myself a fucking huge orgasm with my favourite vibrator thinking about this shoot. It's been soooo loooong since I did anything really fucked up! I was thinking that we could really get nasty, make these shots so freaking horny that he can't use them for anything except wanking, and we get to keep the stuff after! Whaddya say?" Eve swallowed. She'd heard about this girl, had heard all the stories about the stuff she was supposedly into, and the temper tantrums when she didn't get her own way. She paused briefly, smiled, then nodded. A grin broke out on Sabrina's face and a devilish glint came into her eyes. She leaned in again and whispered. "Here, I got a little something for you..." one arm snaked around Eve's waist, puling her in close, while one heavily manicured fingernail traced a line over Eve's taut, flat belly, between her breasts and finally right up to her lips. Looking deep into Sabrina's eyes and trying desperately not to feel like a virgin by comparison, Eve took the finger into her mouth and sucked on it deep, as though giving the best BJ of her life. Gallagher & White Ch. 01 "Yeah, that's good, that's real good," Sabrina intoned in her deep, husky drawl, "you taste that? That's the finger that I used on my clit to bring me off this morning, and I ain't washed it since!" Thorn was back, snapping his fingers to get their attention. He started to whine on about how he wanted the next set of poses to be, but Sabrina snapped at him to be quiet, saying that Eve and her had got it all worked out, and all he had to do was keep taking pictures. Eve kept sucking the finger anyway, as Sabrina showed no signs of wanting her to stop. She closed her eyes and made like she was sucking on a huge cock, and in response Sabrina grabbed a handful of Eve's ass, digging the nails in too much and causing Eve to jump. Sabrina removed her finger and started to tease Eve's nipples, roughly, but making them very hard. Eve had had other women before and was absolutely no stranger to other women's bodies, but there was something about this strong, wilful girl that caused her to feel very shy and timid before he, and she hoped desperately that it didn't show. Sabrina leaned in for a kiss, and from the off there was electricity between them that set Eve's pulse hammering. Sabrina's tongue forced its way into Eve's mouth, meeting very little resistance. They pulled each other closer, Eve craning upwards to meet the much taller girl. Sabrina's hands were wandering all over Eve's body, while the English girl felt she was almost powerless to do anything in return. A hand found the flimsy material covering the crotch of Eve's knickers, started rubbing the soft, downy mound underneath. Eve was already aroused just through being in the presence of this girl, and now she found herself starting to get really wet. In the background Thorn was screaming at them to 'stop fucking around, we're here to do a fucking shoot!' as though it were the most important thing on earth. Eve sensed instinctively that this was annoying Sabrina, and sure enough seconds later Sabrina broke off their kiss and went to confront the wailing photographer. Grabbing his balls, she spoke softly to him without breaking eye contact. "I told you once, all you have to do is keep pointing the camera and pressing the little button on it. Eve and I are gonna have a little fun, you're gonna take the pictures, everyone's gonna have a really good fucking time, you got that? You happy with that?" she asked, twisting his balls slightly to make her point a little more forcibly. Thorn nodded. "That's good, that's real good. Now then, Eve honey, would you do me a little favour? Will you get me the little back leather bag I brought with me? I think I left it in the car, but the cars are over there." Eve's flinched as though she were not expecting to be spoken to. She came to abruptly, stammering a little in her response. "Your bag? Umm, in your car? That's, uh, that's outside." "That's right honey, the car's outside, that's where I always keep it. Now would you be a doll and go fetch it?" She did as she was told, nipping nimbly down the rickety wooden stairs despite the six inch spiked heels she was wearing. Checking there was no-one about, she darted outside, retrieved the bag in question, then ran back upstairs. She found Thorn sat on the floor leaning against the wall, with Sabrina draped over his left shoulder, whispering into his ear. She had her right hand over the bulge in his trousers. "Oh thanks honey! Thorn and I, we've been having this little chat, and he sees it our way now, and he wants to have a little fun too! Now let's have a look what we've got in here that will help us get in the mood..." she delved into the bag and produced a bottle of tequila, of which she took three deep slugs. She passed it to Thorn, who took a similar deep draught. Eve politely declined. Sabrina shrugged and said, "Okay then, let's see what else we've got in here!" She pulled out an entangled mess of straps and plastic, which she spent a moment unravelling before beckoning Eve over. "Choose one then honey, let's see what sort of gal you are!" She laughed, wickedly. Eve frowned, trying to work out what she was being offered. Sabrina laughed again. "They're dildos honey! You choose one, you put it on me, then Mr. Thorn here gets to take pics while I fuck you with it! So which one do you want? You got your little one, that's about six inches, your bigger one, that's about eight, then the one that I call the horse! Look, it must be twelve inches!" Eve selected the smallest one. "Well that's okay, it just means I can ram it in all the harder! Well, we haven't got all day, let's get started. Mr. Thorn, why don't you get that camera rolling again?" Sabrina stood in the middle of the room, holding the dildo out to Eve. They heard the camera start to whirr and click in the background. Sabrina motioned to Eve to put it on, and as Eve reached round to fasten the waist strap, Sabrina slapped her hand. "That's not how you do it. You gotta take these panties off first. Go slow, so Mr. Thorn can take some nice pictures." Eve went down on one knee, and, sensing a great shot, Sabrina put her stilettoed foot on Eve's knee. After a few snaps in a classic subservient pose, Sabrina put her foot down and Eve began to work the flimsy knickers down Sabrina's legs. They were damp at the crotch, and Eve could not help but catch the strong scent from Sabrina's vagina. She caught herself breathing it in, and a split-second later so did Sabrina. Sabrina took hold of Eve's hair and pulled her head towards the source of the sticky, sweet scent. "Don't be shy Eve, let's see if you can lick as well as you sniff!" Shy and timid at first, Eve's darting tongue movements earned her a swift rebuke in the form of a yank on her hair. Sabrina opened her legs further so Eve could gain better access, and to appease her new mistress so moved in straight away, lapping hungrily but without finesse at Sabrina's lips, her hole and her clit. She could hear Sabrina start to moan, and then snap at the photographer to move in closer and make sure he was getting it all. Eve tried to establish some sort of rhythm, but before long Sabrina was groaning and grinding against Eve's face, which made it difficult. She heard Sabrina issuing further orders: "Eve, you've got to play up for the cameras a little more. Do you think that while you're eating me out, you could perhaps frig yourself off or something?" Eve winced at the other girl's coarse language but did as she was ordered, snaking a hand down and inside her panties to make contact with her own clitoris, which by this time was fully extended. Growing into her role, she stopped masturbating momentarily to draw the gusset of her panties to one side and make sure the camera could see everything. The juices from Sabrina's pussy were starting to run down Eve's chin and from the noises she was making, Sabrina seemed to be having a very good time. Emboldened, Eve used her free hand to start rubbing Sabrina's butt cheeks, which seemed to go down very well. Eve drew back her heard for breath, but not wishing to incur Sabrina's wrath she used her free hand to start masturbating Sabrina. Eve hit the magic spot straight away and fell into a fast rhythm, working both Sabrina's clitoris and her own at the same time. Sabrina's head slumped forwards and she moaned several times, as Thorn snapped away busily with his camera from every angle. Eve felt she was regaining something of an even footing after being at a definite disadvantage for most of the encounter so far, and as she felt the first throes of her orgasm creeping up on her she allowed herself a tiny smile. Seconds later, Sabrina threw her head and screamed that she was coming, and not to stop, allied with a stream of foreign curses. Thorn cropped his shot and got closer to Sabrina's face, trying to catch the moment of ecstasy. Eve was tempted to slow down a little so she could catch up, but before she knew it she felt her legs buckling and new her own orgasm was upon her. Both girls came almost at the same time and, laughing, collapsed on top of each other in a heap when their legs could no longer take it. Sabrina was the first one upright. "Okay then, now that we're all warmed up, let's really have some fun! Thorn honey, are you getting all this? Are you getting good pics there, baby?" Dumbstruck, and for once thankfully lost for words, he could only nod as he frantically groped in his bag for more roles of film. Sabrina picked up the pile of strap-ons that they had been discussing before, and shook the eight-inch dildo free. "I know you picked the other one, but I like this one the best. Thorn baby, will you strap me into this while Eve takes a breather?" The photographer did as bidden, and moments later Sabrina was strutting around, admiring her new appendage and waggling it everywhere comically. Thorn snapped away and she played up for the camera, making lewd facial expression and pretending to masturbate the pretend plastic penis. She taunted the prostrate Eve with it. "Eve-ee, oh Eve-ee! Come see what Sabrina's got for you to play with!" She knelt down by the side of Eve's head so that the dildo was very close to her mouth. Taking the cue, Eve propped herself up on one elbow and took the plastic member into her mouth, making exaggerated motions and slurping noises. Sabrina was cooing over her performance, and pretty soon rewarded Eve been reaching down and starting to masturbate the English girl, using two fingers on an already aroused clitoris. Soon she'd used her fingers to part Eve's pussy lips, and was slowly working two fingers in and out in a corkscrew motion. When Sabrina had had enough of the teasing, she gently pushed Eve back onto the dirty wooden floorboards and slowly peeled off the delicate lace lingerie. She drew it to her nose and breathed deeply, making eyes at Thorn's camera. She threw them to one side, then positioned herself squarely between Eve's opened legs, staring directly at her hot, wet vagina. Eve was unconsciously wiling the other girl take get a move on, to use the dildo on her, to open her up and thrust deep within her. Deliberately going slowly so that Thorn could get the best shots, Sabrina moved into position so that the tip of the dildo was resting against Eve's labia. Eve was biting her lip in an effort to control her frustration, but after an age Sabrina stopped posing for the camera and began to look after Eve's needs. Slowly, so as not to hurt more than any vindictive desire to tease, she edged the plastic cock into Eve's vagina. The plastic was still warm and wet from Eve's fellatio, and it slipped in without resistance, and both girls let out a sigh when they felt all eight inches go in up to the hilt. Sabrina made herself more comfortable, and by now they were in the classic missionary position. While Eve's body became accustomed to the intrusion, they exchanged long and deep kisses, their tongues revolving around in each other's mouths. Little by little, Sabrina began to withdraw and thrust, making each successive thrust longer than the last, holding back just a touch longer before thrusting in and withdrawing again. The lips of Eve's labia clung to the plastic on each thrust. In minutes, they were up to a normal speed for sex, Eve's eyes closed and her cheek resting on the floor as she concentrated on the sensations from her sex. Sabrina was transfixed, watching the expressions on Eve's face earnestly, as Thorn clambered around them, trying to get the best angles without spoiling their endeavours. Eve was by now only vaguely aware that they were being constantly photographed. She scratched her nails down Sabrina's back, which went practically unnoticed. She locked her calves around Sabrina's and soon moved her legs up so they were wrapped around Sabrina's waist. Stopping suddenly, Sabrina leaned back. One by one she took hold of Eve's ankles and hoisted them up so Eve was practically bent double, Sabrina leaning on the back of her thighs. Eve was pressed into a small bundle, unable to move or complain, with her head practically between her own legs as the dildo was rammed even further home. Sabrina was drooling, she looked to have something akin to bloodlust in her eyes as she started to pound home the fake cock. Eve was loving every moment and could not remember being fucked so mercilessly. She started to moan, then scream, and instinctively she managed to squirm a hand through the forest of limbs to seek out her clitoris and bring on a second, and much fiercer, orgasm. When the bloodrush had finished, Eve realised that Sabrina was no longer inside her, and was talking to Thorn, who looked sceptical. Sabrina looked insistent, and eventually Thorn seemed to accede to whatever demands were being made of him. Sabrina knelt down beside Eve and offered her a swig of tequila while she outlined her thoughts. "Hey baby, you okay? Thought we'd leave you there to catch your breath for a moment. Don't get up, you're okay for a moment. I was thinking that to round the morning's shooting off, we'd have some shots of a different kind of shooting, whaddya think?" It was Eve's turn to look sceptical now, but Sabrina pressed on. "I want some really horny, filthy pictures to end the set with, and I also think that we should give Thorn a little treat for being such a patient and professional photographer. I think that's only fair, and he doesn't mind!" "This is what we're gonna do. I'm going to kneel in front of Thorn, naked, while he shoots downwards looking at me. You're going to stand behind him and toss him off, so that he comes all over my tits. He's gonna take loads of pics of all this! Then when we're done, you're gonna lick all his cum off me and, I don't know, we'll kiss and fool around a little while we're both covered in it. Okay? Then let's get ready!" Clearly the plan was not a suggestion, more an order. Unwilling to argue with the taller girl, and wearing much the same nervous expression as each other, Thorn and Eve assumed their positions, Thorn with the camera at the ready, and Eve behind him. Sabrina stripped out of bra, leaving on just her hold-ups, and knelt down in front of his crotch and started to undo his jeans. Eve thought she was spinning the moment out, delaying it to tease him. Soon though, an expectant erection was released, and both girls mentally noted that it was a good size, should they ever come across him privately. Thorn started shooting, the first pics of Sabrina's eager smile, then Eve's hand in the foreground as it started to work on his erection. Eve rubbed slowly at first, making sure to rub the full length of his shaft and pay plenty of attention to the head of his penis. When Sabrina saw that there was a little skin-on-skin friction, she gently withdrew Eve's hand and took Thorn's erection into her mouth, running her tongue up and down to give some extra lubrication. When she was done, she replaced Eve's hand back around the shaft. Eve could already tell how aroused Thorn was; he'd have to be dead and in a tin not to have been turned on by what he'd already witnessed. Eve was something of an expert at handjobs, having administered more than her fair share, and within a few minutes of expert manipulation there were already bubbles of pre-cum forming at the end of his smooth, circumcised erection. The girls heard the motor drive on the camera whirring as he altered between close-ups, the end of his cock with Sabrina's transfixed gaze below it, and wide-angle views which took in the crafty hand that Sabrina was using to masturbate herself with. Eve realised at this point she was the one with the power: she could decide when he was going to come, and she was sure that Sabrina was trying her hardest to time her orgasm with the ejaculation of his sperm on her chest. Eve pressed her body up against his, and could feel his laboured, almost spasmodic breathing. She put her other arm around him, holding onto his hips, pulling him back into her. Sabrina was starting to play with her nipples, and Thorn was taking shots with her in focus, and the end of his cock as a blurred image at the front of the frame. She hardly blinked, preferring to pay close attention to Eve's hand and the bobbing, ready to burst erection in front of her. When Eve felt that he was ready (which was actually when she felt her arm starting to ache), she applied more pressure and concentrated on a steady rhythm rather than a sensuous massage of his shaft. Within minutes, he blurted out, "I'm coming, oh shit I'm coming!" and he did exactly that. She squealed in delight as his hot sperm landed on her chest, her face, and in her hair. She licked a long rivulet of it as it dripped over her top lip, and as the last of it dribbled from the slit of his cock, she took it in his mouth and hungrily gobbled it down. "You got all that on film, yeah?" she asked anxiously. When he nodded to indicate he had, she practically pushed him out of the way and grabbed Eve. Sabrina pulled Eve down so that they were both kneeling, then pushed Eve's head down into her cleavage, with a hissed instruction not to swallow it all. She barked out a quick 'hey!' when she saw that Thorn has momentarily stopped snapping to watch. Eve lapped away in exaggerated fashion, making sure she got the sweet, tangy liquid all around her mouth and face. Thorn got in close, making sure he had shots of his spunk on her tongue and lips. Sabrina pushed Eve away and started to massage what remained into her chest, licking some off her hand. She took a large wad of it on the fingertips of her right hand and started using it as lubricant to masturbate with, rubbing the sticky stuff all over her clitoris and pussy lips. When she'd had enough of that, she drew Eve closed again and they kissed passionately, tongues fighting over the last remnants of come on each other's faces. Over dinner that night in the hotel restaurant, Eve had been giving Tara every little detail of the day's photo shoot, which at first freaked Tara out a little, but as the large glasses of Cristal started to work on them Tara found herself more and more intrigued - and ever more horny. She was without a regular boyfriend yet again, and it had been some time since her last. She wasn't terribly keen on one night stands and was envious of Eve's lack of qualms over sex - such as having lesbian sex with a celebrity while being photographed the whole time. As she drained another glass, she resolved that she was going to get some while she was in New York. "Let's go out tonight!" Eve said, as though reading Tara's thoughts. "We could go to a club and look for cute guys..." "Sounds good to me," Tara slurred, "shall we go put on something a little shorter?" Eve's eyes widened and she laughed at her friend. "I think you've had one too many! Come one then, let's go get changed and go bar hopping." Fifteen minutes later they emerged from their separate rooms suitably attired for a night out - both were wearing their favourite little black dress. Tara had pinned her hair up, allowing a few lazy strands to fall and brush lightly and brush lightly against her shoulders, whereas Eve had let hers down and tongued the ends under to create a bobbed effect. Arms linked, they tottered out to the street. Eve let out an ear-splitting whistle, and in seconds a yellow cab pulled up next to them and they bundled each other in, laughing. Eve directed the driver to take them 'somewhere wild and expensive!' and the taxi pulled away. It set off up Broadway, and minutes later pulled up outside a discreet looking place with a tasteful illuminated sign. The driver bid them good night after being paid, and left the girls staring at six of the hugest doormen they had ever seen. One beckoned them forwards. "Good evening ladies, " he drawled, "just the two of you? No gentlemen friends. Well, you'll still have a great night out. Sapphire is dancing tonight, she's a video girl, and Lena Mai is on later too. Plus, if you're feeling lucky, we have an amateur hour later - a huge cash prize to the girl voted the best!" With that, two other doormen appeared and taking each girl gently by the arm, escorted them indoors. Gallagher & White Ch. 01 Once inside, they were met by a hostess, a stunning brunette with a Latin complexion. Her floor length backless black dress swayed as she sashayed between the tables, the splits on each side going right up to her waist and revealing incredibly long legs. "I'll find someone to serve you, ladies. Please have a great evening. My name is Sophia, and if there is anything I can do for you, please ask." The two girls sat meekly at their table. They looked round at the place, which was extremely up-market and, thought Tara, almost certainly incredibly expensive. Thick carpeting throughout, wood veneers on everything, tastefully subdued lighting and when the waitress brought over a bottle of champagne, she saw from the label it was a rare and pricey vintage. Eve flicked her fingernail against one of the glasses and it chimed clearly, a sign that it was crystal and not a cheap imitation. The clientele was half men and half couples. All the men, without exception, were in smart tuxedoes, whilst the womenfolk wore a variety of stunning dresses. Tara whispered to her friend over the quiet r&b track that played in the background. "When we told the cabbie to take us somewhere expensive, he didn't mess around!" "Even I think it's expensive, and I'm really, really rich," mused Eve. "I wonder what sort of place this is?" In answer, the lights dropped, and the voice of the MC rolled out from the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Maxine's Gentlemen's Club. Up next, the first of our featured girls. You've seen her on numerous TV specials, on calendars, in magazines and pop music videos. Maxine's is proud to present... Sapphire!" A spotlight came on as the rest if the floor area went pitch black, highlighting the red curtains at the back of the stage. The music started up and one impossibly long lag snaked its way between the curtains and waggled at the crowd, while rapturous applause thundered out round the room. The two girls looked at each other, realising at exactly the same time just where they had ended up. They stood and looked around, intending to make their way to the exit. They were looking for somewhere to dance, not where they were paying to watch someone dance, and they meant to get away. However, with the appearance of the night's star turn, the floor area had become full, and they were struggling to find their way out. They dodged through the crowd, left and right, not really knowing where they were going. It took them several minutes, during which time they had not really got anywhere. Eve spotted a gap in the crowd and tapped her friend on the back, pointing in the general direction but not really making herself heard over the music. They struggled towards the door. Tara managed to make it through the throng and was instantly met by a girl in a dark shirt and trousers. "Right, you're on in five minutes, as soon as Sapphire is finished. You'll hear the DJ announce the start of amateur hour, the music will start and the curtain will open. The rest is up to you! What's your name honey?" "Umm, it's Tara, but-" "British, huh? That will go down well with the crowd. Well, let's go through to the back. Do you want to touch up your make-up or anything?" "Well I, I think there's been-" "Oh shit, she's coming off now! Come on Tara, let's not keep the crowd waiting!" And with that, Tara was dragged through the door. Looking back desperately over her shoulder, she saw Eve laughing, one hand covering her mouth. The women took her through a labyrinth of passages backstage, barking a series of instructions to her minions, impervious to Tara's pleadings. She heard the booming of the MC's voice, strangely resonant on this side of the stage. Then she was onstage, behind the curtain. She could make out the lights faintly through the material. To her right was a chair, and she knew from having been on the other side that there was a pole centre stage. Well, she thought, I'm here now. In for a penny, and all that... She heard her name announced ("all the way from the UK, I give you, Tara!"). The curtains parted. She stood there with her right hand on her hip, left arm down be her side, all her weight on her right foot, trying to appear assertive and in control. She was thankful for the spotlight, because it meant she could see very little of the crowd, but she knew that out there, somewhere, her best friend would be watching. Other than that, no-one knew who she was and if she wanted, she could really let her hair down. As the music started, she took several steps forward in time with the music, like a catwalk model, deliberately emphasising the swing in her hips. She smiled as she glanced from left to right, the crowd still hidden by the glare of the spotlight. They applauded her warmly, and there were some whistles, which she realised quickly were coming from Eve. When she reached the front of the stage, she stood and smiled at the crowd for a moment, then spun round and made her way back to the chair. It was a dinner table type chair, high backed. She sat on it, crossed her legs and smiled demurely for the audience, before spinning to her left. She put her left leg down on the floor, and stretched her right leg out as she took hold of the back of the chair with her left hand and leaned back. As she did so, her little black dress rode up. Tara waited until it was showing a hint of stocking top, then lowered her leg so it wouldn't ride up any further. Still leaning back, she brought her right hand up to her face, and then slowly ran it down her neck and over her body, cupping her right breast for a moment. She arched her right leg up, so that she could run her hand over her long, black-stockinged leg. Her dress slid to her waist, revealing the flesh at the top of her stocking. She rocked forward and sat upright quickly, body swaying slightly in time with the music. She closed her eyes for a second, reaching up and unpinning her dark blonde hair until it fell to her shoulders. She rose to her feet and turned quickly, bending over so that the palms of her hands were flat against the seat of the chair. She wiggled her bum in time to the music, eliciting further cheers and whistles (this time, not just Eve's). She held that pose for a moment, allowing the crowd to take in the tight curves of her bum, and the length of her legs. She was a tall girl with long legs, and in high heels they were greatly accentuated. She put her knee on the chair, then brought the other up so she was kneeling on the chair, her left side to the audience. She arched her back and ran her fingers through her hair, stretching it out behind her and allowing it to fall. She stood up, and with one hand on the back of the chair, walked round it in a shy and diffident manner, looking down, her face hidden from the crowd by her hair. She dragged it around so that the back of the chair was to the left of the stage, then on the next circuit she sat down with her back to the crowd. Using her left hand as support, she suddenly leant right back as far as she could, so that she was now looking at the crowd upside down. More cheering, as now her firm breasts could be seen very clearly down the top of her dress. Again she ran her free hand down her body, this time parting her legs and allowing herself a quick rub over the material of her g-string. She stood up again, and, turning her back to the audience, stood astride the chair with her legs apart. She swayed with the music again, head down. She raised her arms behind her back and, agonisingly slowly, dragged the zipper to her dress down, millimetres at a time, the cheering and applause increasing with every little tug, until the zip was fully down. Stretching the moment of disrobing out, she swung the chair out from between her legs, and again walked around it a couple of times, praying frantically that the dress would not slide down before she was ready. She sat backwards on the chair, again with her back to the audience, and gently slid down one strap at a time, then the front of her dress, until the crowd could see clearly that the dress was now around her waist, but all they could see was her back and her black bra strap. She stood up again quickly, back still to the audience, and snapped her legs together. With no further prompting the expensive dress slid over her hips and gently down to the floor, bringing a huge ovation from the crowd. She leant forward over the chair, swaying her bum in time to the music, aware that as she was only wearing the flimsiest of g-strings her bum would look more or less naked to the crowd. She held that pose for several seconds. Tara stood up again and turned, coyly, to face the crowd, smiling serenely from under her fringe. The crowd loved her, and she was quickly warming to her task. She been holding her arms folded over her chest but now she moved them, slowing for the first time the full view of her gorgeous, lacy black bra with matching g-string. Head down and hands behind her back, she wandered forwards towards the crowd and the edge of the stage like a shy schoolgirl, the opposite of the brazen performer she had looked at the start of her dance. When she reached the edge of the stage, she stood for a moment, whilst men started to thrust dollar bills at her. She turned her back on the crowd and wiggled her bum at them, while the braver soles risked the wrath of the security men by reaching up to tuck dollar bills into the waistband of her g-string. When she looked round, she realised that they were trying to stuff her underwear with hundred dollar bills! With tips like that, she thought she could do a little better for them. She danced to the middle of the stage, dropping the money she had collected already onto her dress. She fell onto her knees, then onto all fours, and starting to crawl towards the crowd again in a feminine and feline way, looking from side to side for a target. She saw Eve, clapping wildly, and on the opposite side of the stage she saw a middle aged man sat with a wife, or lady friend, of similar age. He was probably twice Tara's age, but he was definitely hot, and she always had a weakness for men in suits. She made her way towards him, smiling and making growling noises. She leaned in towards him, until she could smell his aftershave. He looked slightly uncomfortable and yet excited. His wife beamed at her broadly, and clapped. Tara shook her hair in the man's face, and she heard him sniffing her hair, breathing her scent in. He reached up and tucked two folded bills into her g-string, his hand lingering over her bottom as he slowly withdrew it. Tara knelt back, then one leg at a time swung them out from underneath her, until she was sat on her bottom with her legs wide open. She was facing the man's wife directly. The woman looked deep into Tara's eyes, then ran her stare down Tara's body, taking in the modest but firm breasts, flat stomach, and long legs. The woman reached out a hand and Tara could see there was money in it, so she thrust her groin forward at the woman. The woman responded by pulling open Tara's g-string at the front with her free hand, then making a great show of tucking the notes into the waistband. At that moment, Tara's neatly trimmed pussy was on display, although only the woman, her husband, and Tara herself could see it. The woman took her hand away slowly, smiling all the time. Tara rolled over until she was on all fours, then made her way across the stage to where her friend Eve was. Eve clapped delightedly as Tara approached. Eve took some notes from her purse and waved them about, so Tara turned broadside and presented Eve with her bum, so she could tuck the notes in. Eve did that, then unexpectedly gave Tara's bum a hard but playful slap, which the crowd loved. Tara grinned, the turned back to Eve and advanced on her. She beckoned Eve closer with a gesture and, as Eve leant in, Tara grabbed a handful of Eve's hair. She dragged her close and their lips met in a soft kiss. Eve pushed her tongue gently into her friend's mouth, and Tara responded likewise. They made a great show of the tongue play for the crowd. Breaking away, Tara spun round and knelt up with her back to the Eve. She leant back, and Eve realised with a start that Tara wanted he to undo her bra. Eve dragged it out, so it seemed like forever until the straps slipped forwards and down Tara's arms. Tara went back onto all fours and turned to face the audience so her breasts were hanging below her. She swayed from side to side, making her breasts move in time to the music, as the crowd went mad. She made her way back over to the married couple, and again arranged herself so that she was sat on her bum, legs wide open, in front of the wife. Tara reached out and took the tall glass of champagne from the husband, and took a small sip before handing it to the wife. The wife knew instantly what she was to do with it, and as Tara settled with her head tiled right back, the woman slowly poured the ice cold champagne over Tara's breasts, making sure that there was enough left to pour into her panties, where it quickly came into contact with Tara's swollen clitoris. The crowd whooped and hollered, belying their upper class status. The champagne ran down Tara's body, making it glisten and sparkle under the hot lights. Tara hooked a thumb into the side of her panties, and dragged them down just enough so that when she returned to the sitting position, they were not trapped under her. The woman was again quick to take her cue as Tara snapped her legs shut. The woman reached forwards and very slowly pulled Tara's knickers off, as the crowd applauded again. Tara stood up, now naked apart from her high heels and hold-up stockings. The front of her body was wet from the champagne, and her pussy was aching and as wet as she could remember it ever being. She felt a great surge of power and self-confidence as she realised the grip she had over the crowd. She walked back towards the pole in the centre of the stage, and taking hold with her right hand, swayed round the pole several times, before taking hold of it with both hands high above her head. She turned her back to the pole, arms still above her head, and slid down it, never taking her eyes off the audience. Standing up again, she took hold of the pole with both hands and swung round vigorously a couple of times to work up some momentum. She wrapped her right leg around it then left her left leg from the floor, continuing to spin around it but sliding slowly to the floor until she was in her knees. She positioned the pole so that it was between her butt cheeks and the rubbed up against it, before raising herself to her feet. Again she turned her back to the crowd and swung around lazily a couple of times, never looking at the crowd. She raised one leg high above her head and pressed it against the pole, so that the hot pink of her labia was clearly visible to the front rows. She let her leg lower slowly, then using the pole as support leaned right over backwards. She stood up, this time sticking her bum right out, knowing it would be silhouetted against the lights at the back of the stage. She performed some high kicks against the pole, exposing her vagina time and time again to those lucky enough to be close enough to see. She spun around the pole again, working up some speed so that she was spinning fast, then raised both legs from the floors and allowed herself to swing round and slowly sink lower. When her knees landed gently in the floor, she drew herself closer to the pole, until the cold, polished metal came into contact with her clitoris. She gasped audibly, and the women in the front rows guessed exactly why. Slowly, she started to raise and lower her groin against the pole, never allowing it to break contact with her clitoris. Quickly, the thrusts quickened in pace and pressure, and as the song she was performing to approached its climax, she knew her time on the stage was coming to an end. She leaned back and with one hand on the floor and one hand on the pole, frantically rubbed herself up and down the pole, to the mounting cheers of the enraptured audience. As the song reached its crescendo Tara reached her climax, her screams and gasps audible even over the music, drawing wild cheers from the audience. She collapsed backwards, naked and prostrate on the stage, as the crowd went delirious.