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CELEBRITY STORIES

Celebrity Juices Holly Quinn And Maleficent

Celebrity Juices Holly Quinn And Maleficent

by imorol
20 min read
4.9 (2600 views)
adultfiction
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Celebrity Juices: Holly Quinn & Maleficent

By Imorol

Disclaimer: This is a fictional story for adult entertainment purposes.

Now, to the story...

Standing in her private dressing room at the ITV studios, Holly Willoughby was preparing to record the annual Halloween episode of Celebrity Juice. After the recent release of the Suicide Squad movie, she'd made the decision to dress as Harley Quinn. Having seen the film, she'd loved how sexy Margot Robbie looked, and was excited to dress in the same way tonight.

Hair gathered in twin bunches, the ends were dyed red and blue. Matching eye makeup had been applied as well as a rich red lipstick, enhancing an already beautiful face. Getting dressed, the TV presenter had put on a thong of red satin, the tiny underwear pulled tight over an already damp twat. Cradling the impressive bust was a matching bra, pushing the feminine charms together and up. Covering her legs was a pair of fishnet tights. Crotchless, they perfectly framed the thong.

Over the top a "Daddy's Lil Monster" t-shirt had been donned. One size too small, it clung tightly to Holly's chest, enhancing their voluptuous form. Disappointed she couldn't find a pair of shorts just like those in the movie, the former model had chosen a pair of denim shorts, dyed one half red the other blue to match her inspiration. However, they were exceptionally tight, figure-hugging. As the short lacing in the front had been pulled closed, they'd drawn the shorts tight to the woman's crotch, forming a salacious camel toe. They also clung to her shapely backside, pulling taut over the wonderful buttocks, especially whenever she bent down.

Although she really wanted to wear high heels, the reality of playing games on the show meant she'd had to put on a pair of black Sketchers. Around each wrist were wide purple bracelets and circling her neck was a large choker, the word "Puddin" displayed. A studded belt sat on her hips.

'Fuck, I feel fucking sexy,' the blonde said, a little slurred, as she admired herself in a full-length mirror. Every way she turned, the outfit hugged her womanly form, exaggerating her curves. In her hand was a glass a vodka. Something of a routine now, Holly enjoyed a tipple or three before recording Celebrity Juice; a little Dutch courage to loosen her up for the suggestive show. Alcohol combining with a growing arousal, Ms Willoughby had a good buzz going.

Downing the remainder of her drink, she was fascinated by the movement of her bosom. Shoulders pulling back, she giggled as the mirror showed her boobs rising higher, jutting forward against the restraining t-shirt.

'Daddy's lil slut, more like,' she giggled again to herself.

Dropping the strong vodka onto a table, nearly knocking it onto the floor in the process, Holly continued to admire her reflection. Slowly twisting and turning before the mirror, one hand cupped a full breast, fingers gently digging into the pliant flesh beneath. The other made its way to her crotch, a finger tracing the route of the camel toe. Back and forth, the digit slid along the grove, stimulating the moistening slit with increasing pressure.

'Ooh, that feels nice,' she murmured, letting out a hot gasp as the long manicured finger curled against her covered clity.

Suddenly the door burst open. Standing in the portal was Fearne Cotton, Holly's best friend and captain of the show's opposing team. Seeing what was going on, the daintier blonde quickly stepped into the room, hurriedly shutting the door behind.

Dressed for the Halloween episode, Fearne was also wearing a movie inspired outfit: Maleficent. From neck to ankle she wore a long black dress of faux leather featuring pairs of oversized twin lapels and large bell sleeves. Cinched at the waist it positively emphasised her smaller hips and bust, the former peaking from a plunging neckline. Atop slicked back hair was a skullcap in black sporting two long horns. Strappy heels shod her feet. Cosmetics had been applied to make her fair skin appear paler, the effect enhanced by dark eyes and luscious red lipstick.

'Jesus, Holly, you don't have time for that,' she proclaimed, watching her friend play with herself. 'Come on, we're wanted on stage.'

'Fearne!' exclaimed Holly. Spinning away from the mirror and turning to the visitor, she wrapped the flaxen beauty in a warm hug, planting a kiss on her cheek. Taking a step back she took in the figure before her. 'You look amazing! Wow, you look so sexy tonight!'

'Thanks, Hols,' the radio host replied. It was clear how sauced her BFF was. When her cheek was kissed, she'd easily picked up the smell of vodka. 'You're drunk,' she added a little exasperated. Although she found "Drunk Holly" to be a great laugh and fun to be around, Fearne had readily seen in the mirror she was also feeling frisky.

Drunk Holly and Frisky Holly. Great

. Throughout the years, Fearne had found herself having to intercede when her friend was both tipsy and horny, saving her from wrecking her public image on numerous occasions.

'Yup. And I'll let you into a little secret. I'm really horny tonight,' she revealed the obvious secret. 'See?' she added. Trying to point out the stiff nipples poking through her tight clothing, her fingers actually pressed them, obscuring the hard teats. Holly giggled.

'And why are you horny?' Fearne asked in a put-upon tone.

It's going to be a long night.

'I feel so sexy! Don't you think I look hot like this?' Holly asked, drunkenly twirling around so her guest could take in the outfit stretched over her curvy body. Fearne nodded, unable to deny it. 'I've been looking forward to wearing this,' the inebriated blonde continued. 'And I've been wet all day,' she stage whispered, eyes flashing wide at the admission. Crossing to a pile of clothing carelessly left on a chair, she pulled out a pair of purple panties. Chucking them across the room, she said, 'Check those out.'

Automatically snatching the underwear out of the air, the other blonde looked at the gusset. An abundance of female fluid covered the cotton panel, the creamy-looking substance encrusting the inset.

Jesus

.

'Want to know something else?' Holly slurred.

'Go on,' Fearne replied, knowing that going along with her friend was the quickest way of getting her out of the dressing room and onto the stage for the evening's show.

Again the statuesque starlet reached down to the chair. Under the clothes sat an open bag. Reaching in, she withdrew something small and rounded. Open hand held out, she revealed what it was.

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'A love egg,' Fearne identified the white plastic object. 'They come in packs of two usually, don't they?' After a brief moment, realisation set in. 'Let me guess. You've stuffed the other one up your minge.'

'Yup. And it feels fucking amazing! Here, you take this one.' Looking at the proffered toy, the DJ wasn't sure how to reply. Despite the headaches protecting Drunk/Frisky Holly could present, she also got Fearne hot. Under her dress, inside the black latex panties she'd chosen to wear tonight, a low throbbing made its presence felt, partnered with a sexual warmth. Shifting on her heels, she also felt a certain dampness against the rubberised underwear.

A sudden knock rattled the door. 'Ms Willoughby? You're wanted on stage. They're ready to go.' It was the voice of the floor manager.

'Be right there,' Holly called. Attention returning to her visitor she said, 'Here, let me.'

Dropping to her knees in front of her friend, Holly grabbed the hem of the dark dress and raised it up. Despite its heavy appearance, the garment moved easily enough. Looking under the woman's skirt revealed a pair of seamed stockings, the nylon a second skin to the shapely pins, ending in lacy tops. Above a short expanse of inner thigh was a pair of black latex butterfly briefs. Fearne had rather large labia, giving her pussy a full rounded outline, an outline the tight undergarments snuggled up against and bulged around.

Slipping fingers into the briefs, the flesh of a cleanly shaven snatch teased them as Holly pulled the knickers aside. Between thumb and forefinger, the kneeling woman parted the long pussy lips, felt a slick varnish. Love egg tucked in the palm of her other hand, slowly Holly slid a finger into her friend. Giggling once more, she savoured the enwrapping clasp of the sweet tight hole, the warm moist passage welcoming the intrusion.

A few gentle pushes had the finger was buried to the third knuckle. Making tiny circles, Holly stimulated the delicate membranes, stirred up the feminine honey. Withdrawing the finger, the love egg was switched on, the little toy buzzing away as it was positioned at the glossy opening. Pressing from below, the orb slipped inside. Easing the hanging labia closed with her other hand, the tipsy model ensured the egg was well seated. Leaning forward, she planted a kiss on the fleshy lips, inhaled the sweet fragrance surrounding them.

Tugging the panties into place and pulling the dress back down, This Morning's anchor remained on her knees, looking up at her friend. Tongue moving slowly, sensuously, she licked up the juices gathered on her fingers, smouldering eyes locked on Fearne's. 'All done,' she beamed once she'd finished.

Jesus, she's horny tonight

, thought Fearne.

Dammit, I'm not far behind

, she silently added, feeling the little toy vibrating strongly inside.

'Come on, we've got a show to do,' a blushing Ms Cotton said, helping the other woman to her feet.

'Hang on,' Holly said. 'I'm not ready.' From the pile of clothes she scooped up a small jacket, half red, half blue, wide gold trim down the sleeves. Throwing the garment on, she also retrieved a single glove, red and blue just like the rest of the costume.

'Ready now?'

Looking around, Holly was searching for something. 'Ah, there you are,' she purred stepping to the end of a long white sofa pushed up against one wall. Bending over to pick the object up, the clinging shorts pulled taut over firm buttocks, camel toe deepening. Straightening up she presented a large rubber baseball bat, the final accoutrement to the evening's getup.

'That looks like one of Keith's sex toys,' Fearne burst out laughing.

Lifting the end of the large rubber toy to her face, Holly sniffed. 'Nope, he's not used it yet,' she said laughing.

'You might want to put these away,' Fearne said handing over the dirty knickers that had been thrown to her. 'If Keith gets in here he'll pinch them.'

'Wouldn't he just,' the buxom drunk laughed. Rather than tucking them in her bag, she slipped the used undies into her jacket. Hearing the noise of the audience beginning to fill the building, Holly said, 'Better go. Showtime!'

Guiding her friend out onto the Celebrity Juice stage, the BBC radio host couldn't help but admire the full backside swaying in the ever-so-tight shorts. When Holly turned to give her a smile, her breasts were perfectly outlined, their shape glorious under the clinging t-shirt. It was a sight soon enjoyed by the baying audience as Keith Lemon introduced himself, the team captains and the contestants.

For his Halloween costume, the show's presenter was dressed as the Australian singer, Sia. Wearing only a single garment, it was a large white dress. Buttoned down the front, it reached to his knobbly knees, billowing widely in the process. Perched on his head was a large wig, the bangs hanging down to cover his face. One side of the hairpiece was black, the other white. Atop this sat a ridiculously oversized white bow.

Unable to help herself, especially in her stupored condition, the faux Harley Quinn was wiggling and twisting around the stage, flinging her rubber bat around as she played up to the crowd. Obviously enjoying herself, it was clear to Fearne that Ms Willoughby was turned on by the attention, not to mention the little devil of an egg stuffed up her twat, buzzing away just like its twin was doing inside Fearne herself.

Amongst the guests lined up on the stage, she felt sexy in her dark costume. Loving the appearance the makeup had rendered of her features, she felt seductive, powerful. Although Holly was getting the lion's share of attention, Fearne wasn't without compliment. Numerous wolf whistles came her way, leering eyes roaming all over.

If they could see what I've got on under this dress

, she thought, considering the sultry stockings, slutty latex panties and the peep-hole bra, also in black latex.

Although the unusual choice of knickers was something she'd always been tempted to try, she had to admit that wearing them tonight may not have been the best idea. With the egg working its magic, Fearne's pussy was drooling, literally. Moving to take the captain's chair, she could feel hot sticky juices gathering in the briefs. With no cotton gusset to soak up the discharge, it was spreading about, coating the smooth material and Fearne's crotch, smearing against the shaved snatch. It excited her.

'Let's meet our team captains. First of all, it's Holly Willough-boozy!' Keith Lemon played to the crowd and the recording cameras.

Seated behind the team desk, the tipsy star waved at the camera. Recalling something from the Suicide Squad movie, she grabbed up the rubber baseball bat she'd brought along. Raising it to her shoulder and looking down its length as if it were a rifle, her gloved hand slid along the soft surface, like she was pumping a pump-action shotgun. Fingers moving on the rubber surface, she realised it felt like one of her dildos, but an exceptionally large one. Inside her thong womanly sap bubbled out from her twitching sex, urged on by salacious thoughts taking root in her mind, the big toy in her hand and the little vibrating egg within.

'Or should I say aka, Harley Quinn from Suicide Squad,' Keith amended.

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'No, I'm Holly Quinn,' she answered back with a sloppy salute to the camera.

'Do a split-screen. Down camera two, Holly,' the show's host said. 'I know you're pissed,' he clarified.

'I a little bit...I'm a little but...' Holly couldn't get the words out, befuddled by the vodka drunken earlier and the effects of the egg. Ripples of delight coursed through her dripping fanny. 'I'm gonna take this jacket off,' she said, feeling hot from more than just the studio lighting.

'You can take off whatever you like,' Keith declared, half joking, half lecherous.

Knowing the camera would be focused entirely on her at that moment, the beautiful model pulled the jacket from her shoulders. In doing so, Holly made sure to thrust her chest out towards the zooming camera and the studio audience beyond.

The home audience is gonna like that as well

, she thought, pulling the jacket off and further pushing out her bosom. A twinge made her pussy contract, caused by her salacious actions.

As the other guests were introduced, Holly couldn't help but continue to play to the audience. Plenty of the male attention remained on her, as did a proportion of the females. Blatantly looking out at the stacked rows of people, eyes looked back at her hungrily. It was like something out of a survival movie, the eyes of predators peering at a lone victim from the dark. An exciting tingle ran down her spine, causing her back to arch.

I'm really fucking horny tonight

.

The first game was called and involved fly-tipping. One of the contestants on Fearne's team was tasked with dragging a dirty mattress outside the studio. He had to find a wall and throw the bedding over it. Appearing from behind the studio cameras came the stage manager.

'Holly, could you move your bat? The cameras are catching it,' he said, leaning over to speak to her. As he did so, it was obvious he was taking a good look at her chest, enjoying the view even without the usual cleavage.

'Of course, not a problem,' she replied with a deliberate jiggle.

Atop the table were her jacket and the bat. Picking up the red and blue garment, it was quickly draped over the back of her seat. Bat in hand, she wondered what to do with it. Dropping it under the desk was the only real option. Gripping the thicker end, she was once more came to the realisation that it greatly resembled a large dildo.

A very large dildo

.

Teammates distracted by the action on their monitor, watching the contestant playing outside the studio, Holly moved her sports bat under the desk. Bracing the small end against the bottom of the privacy panel, she positioned the thicker cap at her crotch. Scooching her seat closer, the rubber implement impacted her tightly clothed fanny. 'Ooh,' the blonde mumbled, managing to make it appear to be a reaction to the activity on the screen.

Adjusting her position settled the bat against her heated cunny, the wide end pressuring her sweltering cleft and stiff clitoris. Wriggling about in her chair enabled Holly to grind against the toy. Delicious frissons of pleasure encompassed her female groove, sending sparkles racing along her spine and limbs. Standing proud against her tight t-shirt, her nipples were hard. Thighs closing around the rubber shaft, the sexpot could control where the rougher edge of the bat touched her, allowing Ms Willoughby to masturbate on national TV without anyone being any the wiser.

As the evening drew on it became harder for the broadcaster to concentrate on the games. Arousal and drunkenness was a powerful concoction, loosening inhibitions as well as her ability to play. Usually a gamer intent on winning, Holly quickly crashed out of the next game, "Don't Show Keith Your Teeth". Grinding against the rubber pole under the desk, humping her aching little bud against it, Holly was creaming her knickers. A rich gush of scented honey soaked the satin thong. When Keith called her name, the team captain accidentally flashed her white teeth, bright against her red lipstick.

Ooh, it doesn't matter

, she thought as a small orgasm stole over her.

Cumming is always better than winning anyhow

. Reaching under the table her fingers wrapped around the rubber toy as much as they could. Holding it at the right angle allowed her to grind the harder edge directly against her clit, drawing out the climax. Convulsions rippled along her birth canal, forcing another trickle of cum into sodden panties.

"Haunted Corridor" was the next game for the teams to have a go at. After a contestant from Fearne's team had a turn, Keith called on Holly. Believing she hated the dark, was scared of being alone when everything was pitch black or spooky, he thought it would be a good laugh. Stepping off the Celebrity Juice stage, the comely vixen made her way backstage to a corridor darkly lit in red. The hallway was full of shadows, cobwebs strung from the ceiling. Doorways were darkened, where anything could be hiding. Only a single cameraman accompanied the team captain.

'Ah shit! Hold up, Ms Willoughby,' the camera operator said. 'There's an issue with the cabling. Caught up somewhere. We'll need to run a new one.'

'Tim,' greeted the voice of the floor manager, a spool of cable in his hands. 'Ms Willoughby,' he added with a nod. 'Tim, plug this into your camera, would you,' he said, handing off the reel. As he spoke his eyes remained on the British star, once more drinking in the curves of her luscious body.

Eyes of a predator

, thought the TV host. A delicious tingle of frightened excitement made its way along her spine. To her disappointment, the floor manager retook the spool and walked off, reeling it out as he went.

'Shouldn't be long,' the cameraman reassured, putting the bulky recording equipment on the corridor floor. 'You look hot tonight, Ms Willoughby. Very sexy,' he said abruptly.

Casually reaching out, he placed his large hand on the buxom chest. Fingers pressing into the pliant female mound, he groped the celebrity through the stretched t-shirt. While his hand switched to the other tit, his free hand slapped her rounded ass, the clap of the sudden contact resounding down the enclosed passage of the corridor. It was well known on the production that Holly Willoughby was a "good time girl", and would let you get away with all sorts of things. All you had to do was catch her when she was in the mood which usually involved her being sauced. Just like now. There was a reason why the woman's dressing room was always well stocked with booze.

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