Continental Confidential

This story is entirely fictional and is in no way connected with the subject. This story contains adult material and is only suitable for people over the age of 18. If you are under 18 please stop reading now. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living, dead, or undead, is purely coincidental. All characters portrayed in this story are over 18. Do not use this without my permission. (c) Copyright Viper_Noj 2002 onwards. Now, on with the story!

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Kylie Minogue looked up and out the window of the expensive restaurant she was in. She could afford it and her fame made paying for exclusive places part of the deal if she wanted to get any peace from her fans. It was brilliant having so many dedicated people that loved her but sometimes she just needed to get away from it.

She was sat in the bar area with a drink in front of her, complete in a stemmed glass with a couple of shots in it that she was sure would hit her when she stood up from the stool she was on. Her eyes gazed out from behind her dark glasses at the bright blue sky, panning across the skyline of the city to the famous point of the Eiffel Tower.

She was in Paris for the fashion show, a huge glamourous event, and after a morning session she'd taken a walk to get herself a drink and think a little. It was kind of early for a cocktail but she figured it didn't matter, she could do what she wanted and she was feeling rather low. She'd ordered a Dirty Martini with bourbon, the almost sweet almond flavour hiding the raw alcoholic kick beneath that hit her empty stomach. Her eyes panned down to the street again and all she seemed to see were couples walking along hand-in-hand, in that private, personal joy one got from sharing themselves with another.

It stung a little bit and she sipped at her drink. She was recently single -- again -- and couldn't help but feel depressed as she watched other happy couples passing by while she felt painfully alone. The feeling nagged at her that she'd never managed to find someone special to settle down with, or had let them pass her by when she was younger, and as a result was getting older and still single. She really thought she'd have it all worked out by her mid-fifties but somehow had never made the time for it despite promising herself.

She was still hot of course, she knew that and worked hard for it, evidenced by the attention she still got from men though it wasn't what she wanted. So far while in Paris she'd had a few significantly younger guys trying to get into her pants and she could tell that was all they wanted, a fuck so they could call her a conquest and that hardly interested her. One had to be only in his early twenties, full of overconfidence as he'd made his play for her only to be met with a roll of her eyes. Oh she was sure he would fuck her energetically but she doubted it would really satisfy her, it just wasn't what she wanted, to be a notch on someone's bedpost. Well...someone else's.

On the other hand, she had older men with plenty of money making offers, promising a healthy pay day if she fancied joining them for an evening, basically wanting her to whore herself out for lack of a better description. She'd had more than one business card handed to her with "think about it" whispered to her. One had even grabbed her ass. It was ridiculous frankly when her own net worth was nine figures so she hardly needed their money and it was just an indecent proposal. Sadly it was more common than anyone realised.

The tragic thing for them was that if they just approached her normally and offered a drink she might take them up on it, meaning they might get her on her back if they charmed her. She wasn't above sex on a first date though she didn't make a habit of it. Still that hardly mattered when all she'd had was young lads wanting to fuck her or businessmen wanting to own her. She gave a sigh and wondered why she couldn't get lucky and just meet the right kind of man for once.

Still, despite her gloom she was enjoying the Paris fashion show and it was a welcome break from studio work or planning the next tour. She loved those things but a change was always welcome and a trip to the City of Love made for an ideal getaway, so she'd taken the time to immerse herself. Accordingly she was all dressed up for it, knowing she couldn't be seen in anything less than the most expensive and opulent clothing lest the media inevitably call her out on it.

She was wearing a knee length black satin dress with a pencil skirt that wrapped perfectly around her body to accentuate her feminine shape with her pinched waist and curvy hips. There was a short black jacket that went around her shoulders and barely reached her waist, mostly she had it draped over her rather than actually wearing it. Underneath it she'd gone all out with the lingerie, wanting to feel naughty and sexy despite nobody seeing it and as a result had bought the sexiest set of Agent Provocateur she could find.

The hundreds of pounds she'd spent was gratuitous for what she got but she loved it. It was black, a mix of exquisite lacy designs and sheer mesh and left little to the imagination for anybody who got her clothes off. The bra had strong black straps and mesh half-cups to support her humble breasts, with a lacy edge that barely covered her nipples. The panties were sheer mesh with a beautifully embroidered lace design that hinted at hiding her dark strip of pubic hair and pulled tightly up her round ass, not a thong but not really full panties either which she loved.

They were paired with a matching suspender belt, the strap style matching the bra and highlighted with lace again before the straps led down over her smooth thighs and round ass to the top of her seamed stockings, thin and black with a wide lace top that the suspenders held up perfectly. The tension just peaked and pulled at them as she moved, especially as she sat down as she was on the stool, loving the feel of the stockings pulled up by the suspenders as she bent her legs up. The seams ran down the back of her shapely legs into a pair of black leather ankle boots, somehow sexier than normal heels because they hid more and were just that little bit different.

It wasn't enough, it seemed, to get her anything other than positive media praise since despite the outfit no decent guy had approached her. Her mind ran over the reasons why, wanting to figure it out, knowing the world was different and guys weren't so game to approach any more, or maybe she had more of a reputation than she thought and they simply weren't wasting their time on her. Worse still, maybe they just didn't fancy her. Kylie shook her head of the notion, knowing she had to stay confident and that it was just another rough patch as she sipped her refreshing but quietly effective cocktail deeply.

However wishing herself to be a certain way didn't make it so, and out of loneliness and low self esteem she'd made a phone call that had stirred conflict within her as it always did. It was a number she knew well yet rarely dialled, but her hunger and frank need for attention made her call it. It was a guy she knew, a man named David, who was younger than her and a friend. Well, far more than a friend as she'd been screwing him on and off for years. He was just under forty, which was about how old she was when she met him in 2008 as she approached her milestone birthday.

She'd been recently single again at that point and looking to do something wild for her fortieth, wanting to just break out and have some crazy fun, to act like she never normally would and throw caution to the wind. Somehow in her quest for that she'd met David, who'd only been twenty four at the time and a good fifteen years her junior but they'd just clicked. It was at some event or party, she couldn't really remember now through the haze of time but that didn't matter. They'd chatted, danced, flirted and then at the end of the evening he'd propositioned her.

It had been direct and pretty blunt, with little in the way of grey area but he obviously thought he had a chance when he'd done it. Normally Kylie would have said no, seeing his bluntness as disrespectful, not to mention his age which was not her usual fare. She went for older men typically, or at least those much closer to her own age. But on that occasion she'd taken a moment, realised it'd be a great way to just go for it and act out so she'd said yes and he'd taken her home.

It had been just before her fortieth birthday when she'd fucked him for the first time, letting him take her back to his apartment before their hunger and passion took over. She'd been expecting an exciting, fun but relatively by-the-numbers hook up with him for some brief entertainment. What she'd received however was one of the most incredible fucks of her life; it had been passionate, patient and intimate, but also intense and hard, his energy incredible as he applied it to her petite body in every way he could.

What had been intended to be an overnight stay turned into a weekend of passionate pleasure, with Kylie forgetting her plans and staying to both their enjoyment. By the time they got to the end of it all they were exhausted and aching, Kylie having been treated to a most incredible fuck and all it had required was her taking a hedonistic chance on her birthday. She stumbled on through the rest of her break as she enjoyed her brief time off but nothing else captured her imagination like the amazing way he'd treated her, both hard and soft, not letting her have an easy ride by any means but to maximum effect.

She hadn't stayed single for long of course, but that hadn't lasted long term and Kylie found him irresistible. David had given her his number, wanting any opportunity to spend time with the petite Australian again but leaving it up to her. Over the past fifteen years she always called him the second she was single, just unable to hold herself back from what she knew would be unbridled pleasure and affection when she got into his arms.

But she wasn't sure it ever made her entirely happy. Sure it was hot, primal fun but it didn't really leave her completely fulfilled. He was just a fuck buddy to her, though she knew that wasn't quite true, but he certainly wasn't her boyfriend. David never had been, though he had been interested and now she quietly rued what she guessed was a missed opportunity. He wasn't blinded by her celebrity status or wealth, seeming very comfortable with himself and that made her wonder if he was the everyday guy that perhaps she should have taken a chance on when she was younger.

There was no point in maybes, they were in the past like everything else and she couldn't wind the clock back. His game wasn't reserved solely for her either as she'd found out he slept with other well known women, though she refused to ask the details despite her morbid curiosity. It wouldn't make her feel better to hear it, and only made her question whether his interest in her was just physical when it seemed like much more. Instead it just made her give as much effort as he showed to her, wanting to be his favourite even if he had options.

He was originally from England though he lived in Paris, with a successful career in technology behind him though she never entirely found out what. On top of that he'd done some screen writing and was an excellent amateur photographer, which she knew all about as he'd taken a lot of photographs of her over the years they'd been intimate. He was a smart guy...who also wasn't single; Kylie wasn't quite sure of the details but she knew he had a beautiful but very understanding long term girlfriend that was seemingly happy for him to see women like her.

She wasn't entirely convinced she liked that arrangement but it never once stopped her picking up the phone to him, so she guessed her conscience wasn't so righteous. Kylie figured he must just wait for her call every time he saw her latest romance fall apart in the media, knowing she'd ring for attention from him. She grumbled a little as she thought about that, a scenario she'd entirely concocted, but also comforted herself with the thought that he never, ever failed to answer her calls.

David was someone whom the rich history and atmosphere of Paris called to, especially when things like the fashion show were on and he could see all the beautiful women that turned up. He didn't always attend, but loved the bustle of the city when such big events took place and always made sure to drink it in. When Kylie had visited him once, years before, he'd taken her out to whatever event was going on, simply continuing with his plans and making her his date.

Kylie wondered if he'd jumped out of the sixties or something with how he seemed to live his life, enjoying strong black coffee and cigarettes along with beautiful women like herself. Despite all the modern pressure and pace of life he seemed contented to live his own way, which made her envy him and wonder why she couldn't do that sometimes.

She'd made the call to him the evening before, heart pumping just a little bit faster when she did. It was the fear of him saying no to her. He didn't of course, always pleased to hear her lovely voice and after some quick catching up she invited herself to his place the following day. He was fine with that, but had something to do first thing so asked her to make it around midday. She had no problem with that so took the morning enjoying a relaxing bath, shaving everything below her eyebrows and sliding into the skimpy lingerie she'd bought.

And now she was in the expensive restaurant bar, sipping her cocktail before it was even noon and just contemplating things. She'd enjoyed the morning fashion event that was going on so that had absorbed some time, and the alcohol steadied her nerves as she sipped at the straightforward drink, the almond liqueur disguising the kick it had. She didn't know why she needed steady nerves, she'd done it before -- maybe it just quieted her conscience. The part of her that told her it was seedy and cheap, that told her classy women didn't do things like that and perhaps she should reconsider.

She dragged the last of her beverage through the straw, wincing a bit at the ice cold liquid from the bottom of the glass, tasting the edge on it as she stood the it aside and checked her phone. There was nothing of importance so she people watched, taking a last minute to sit down before she got going. So many people going about their day, so many different stories, though she imagined hers might be different from many.

Standing from the stool carefully so as not to strain the dress or flash her sexy lingerie, she slid onto her heels and smoothed the black satin out, checking it was covering her properly before she pulled her little bag over her shoulder and picked up her phone, stepping away from the window to head for the door. She was given a pleasant farewell from the staff as she left, clicking onto the street as she stretched a little and started walking. His apartment wasn't too far, being relatively central in Paris, so she wanted to just get there herself rather than involve a cab.

Her diminutive size, despite the ferociously sharp heels of her ankle boots, made her stand out in the crowds of people. It was hard to disappear, which seemed ironic when she was so tiny, but luckily nobody bothered her. The fashion show was on and people were far more interested in that so thankfully all she received was a few looks and envious stares as they took in her fantastic figure and outfit.

Her heels clicked along on the pavement as she got away from the crowds a bit, away from the part of Paris everyone imagined and saw in the movies, through a few smaller streets and onto the hill as she got away from the centre. Her heels teetered on the cobbles a little as she walked on the old surfaces, glancing in windows of smaller shops selling chocolates and dresses, just window shopping as she passed.

She wasn't rushing, but wasn't dawdling either, her mind flitting between hunger to get there and trepidation at doing it yet again, unable to resist her wants. She wrestled with why she should, after all it was her life and she could do what she wanted, but it still made her doubt herself. Her eyes wandered over the people around her from behind her dark glasses, taking in the cars and motorbikes that populated the streets, the young couples on a loved up holiday, the local Parisians going about their day to day and the vendors who tried to invite her or anyone else into their cafe.

Kylie was conscious that her glamourous outfit stood out more the further away from the fashion show she got and more glances came her way as the crowds thinned. Luckily there were no paparazzi to capture her wandering away on her own or worse yet to follow her, that was something she definitely didn't need. Her pace quickened a little as she decided to get to his apartment before someone did bother her, her mind made up, completing her twenty minute or so walk to his building. He didn't have an entry phone so she went straight in, heading for the stairs.

It had a lift but that had never worked, some antiquated thing from decades previous that either nobody knew how to fix any more or simply didn't bother to. He lived on the top floor, the fifth, so Kylie got to the stairs and started up. She was fit but it made for a tiring ascent as the stairs kept going, winding round as her hand held the painted black railing. It was probably a lot smaller before it had hundreds of coats of paint, the sensation cool and smooth beneath her hand. Her heels kicked and scuffed at the worn tiled steps as she made her way up, the building old and needing some renovation...though he insisted that was part of its charm.

She got to the top and took a deep breath, calming herself and smoothing out the dress a little, making sure she was tidy before she met him. Idling on the landing for a moment, she checked her phone and wasted another moment, taking the seconds to still her mind before she surrendered her body to him. With another deep breath she stepped from the stairs to his door and tapped on the wood, her knuckles making a satisfying sound. As she patiently waited for him to answer, waiting for his footsteps, her eyes roamed over the softened splinters to the door frame and wear to the floor that he said gave it character. It wasn't really her preferred décor.

His footsteps thudded through the door as he walked to it, unlocking and opening it wide with a smile as he clapped his eyes on the petite pop princess.

"Miss Minogue."

"David," she replied with an equal smile, unable to deny how nice it was to see him.

"Please, come in," he said, standing back and offering her the doorway.

"Thank you," she said, stepping into his apartment where he closed the door behind her, locking it securely to ensure they couldn't be disturbed. He walked down the hall in her wake, checking out her ass through the tight satin of the dress, always appreciating her shape and tone as he followed her to his main room. The apartment was a somewhat odd design, with the bathroom and another bedroom off the hallway, then one main room which was almost like a studio with his living space and bed in it, then a kitchen off one end with a table.

She hardly cared and didn't have time to think it over as he immediately grabbed her, reaching round from behind for her hand to let him twirl her into his arms and pull her close, easily lifting her tiny figure off the floor as he commandingly held her, kissing her hard. Kylie murmured in surprise as he grabbed her, lost in the moment as she opened her mouth to welcome his probing tongue and kissed him back. They made out hard and hungry, two lovers lost for so long but suddenly thrown back together by her phone call.