Getting The Job Holly Willoughby 01

Getting the Job: Holly Willoughby Part 1: The Introduction

By Imorol

NOTE: This is Part 1 of a planned on-going series. As such this story helps set things up for the reader. It's longer than I originally planned but a good story series needs some setup. This particular story is fetish-based. Further stories in the series will feature more sexual activity.

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

Now, to the story...

"Sorry, Holly. As I said, the casting director says they have chosen to go in another direction."

"Okay. I thought that I had that job for sure," said Holly Willoughby. "Can't win them all, I guess."

Or any it seems

, she thought.

"Hey, keep your head up. I've no doubt that we'll score something great, and soon," the male voice said. His tone betrayed how he really felt about that.

"Alright then Darren. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Bye," she said before ending the call. She took a deep breath, let half of it out before, "Fuck!" Holly was seething with anger and frustration. Another opportunity gone!

Noticing the time, Holly saw she was due for her regular visit to the gym. She thought it would be just what she needed; a way to work out some of her frustrations. Picking up her gym bag, she headed out the door.

Holly Willoughby had once been the face of British television, a buxom blonde who presented herself as the girl-next-door with a cheeky side. Her career had started as an underwear model -- thanks to her good looks, stunning breasts and beautiful bum -- before moving into presenting children's TV shows. From there she had graduated to presenting reality TV shows and making herself even more popular by appearing on Celebrity Juice. There, she had been able to show a bit more of her real, daring personality. It also helped that she would often wear dresses and tops that highlighted her amazing cleavage and was placed in suggestive scenarios repeatedly.

But then things had taken a turn. She and her husband had been arguing and fighting a lot, always away from the public eye -- she didn't want to taint her public image. However, when she finally learnt he had been having an affair with another man, she saw no other recourse than to file for divorce. At the time, Holly had felt she couldn't disclose the reasons for the dissolution of her marriage, afraid she would be labelled a bigot. The public only saw part of the picture so she lost a lot of support from her fans.

Although quick, the divorce was acrimonious: Holly felt betrayed by the affair and being used to hide her husband's true sexuality and he felt she had used him for his connection to further her career. Both were correct but were unwilling to see the other's point of view.

Her divorce finalised, Holly looked forward to moving on with her career. She thought she would be able to move on the bigger and better things, greater fame, popularity and wealth. It wasn't long until she discovered two major stumbling blocks in her path.

Firstly, because of the apparently sudden decision to divorce and no explanation as to why, Holly's appeal to the public had withered. Secondly, her now ex-husband was still a power in the entertainment industry and was actively stalling her career. Her agent, Darren, had not proven to be much help either. Although he was able to get some auditions for her, they were not what she would call quality and even then there were not many of them. And even those jobs never materialised thanks to her ex.

She didn't know what she was going to do to get her career back on track.

Holly had been going to the gym regularly since the divorce and had gotten into the best condition she had ever been in. She enjoyed working out hard, keeping herself firm and tight all over. Looking in the mirrors all around the gym, Holly admired her own figure. Clad in tight light green lycra, her huge boobs had never looked better. Even in her workout gear she had eye catching cleavage, now covered with a sheen of sweat, heaving with each deep breath she took.

Her eyes cast downwards in the mirror, following the shape of her body from her chest down her flat stomach out to the flare of her hips. Her leggings were the same light green colour as her top. Her eyes traced from her hips following the crease in her leggings leading down between her thighs and into her crotch. She saw she had quite a camel toe, the lycra tightly hugging her vagina, clearly outlining her sex. Holly looked at the bulge of her pussy, the curves and creases highlighted by the leggings. The sexy blonde was getting hotter, suddenly taken by the desire to touch herself.

Looking over her shoulder, she admired her tight bum. It was big but not too big.

It must be hungry

she giggled to herself looking at how the leggings gripped her bum, seemingly being sucked into her arse crack. Holly wanted to run her hands over her bum, feel it, squeeze it, to touch it all over. But not in public, she had her image to consider.

Noticing her shoelace was undone, she bent over at the waist to reach down to re-tie it. Looking back into the mirrors, she had a good view now of both her camel toe crotch and hungry arse crack. Holly felt so wanton right then, wanting to touch herself, to run her fingers along those creases in her leggings, to press against her lips, her clitoris and put pressure against her anus. Seeing how the lycra was showing off and enhancing her entire crotch was really getting to her!

Wondering if anyone else was enjoying the same view, she looked around. Holly felt a flutter in her stomach and her pussy when she realised several hunks, and several not-so-hunky guys were checking her out. Even a couple of women were looking and seemed to like what they saw. Some people were trying to be discrete, some not at all. She bent her knees a little, making her bum look a little bigger and pushing her pussy out a bit more. The temptation to wiggle her sexy bum was strong.

Looking at her 'viewers' again, she saw an average looking guy, several years older than herself, definitely not one of the muscly hunks. Calling him average would be a compliment. However, Holly felt she recognised him from somewhere. Still horny but now feeling a little uncomfortable, she tied her laces and moved on to the next piece of equipment.

Holly moved throughout the gym, from exercise to exercise, conscious the entire time of guys and girls taking peeks at her as she squatted, stretched, twisted, pressed and bent over. Constantly feeling her gym clothes hugging her skin, her boobs, her arse and her pussy.

Sitting on an exercise bike, Holly was keeping up a good pace, keeping her heart rate up, and her body hot. But it wasn't just the exercise keeping her hot. Directly in front of her were a man and a woman doing their own exercises. Both were attempting to be discreet as they kept glancing at the presenter's cleavage. Enjoying being the centre of attention, Holly leaned further forward and brought her elbows in, pushing her boobs closer together and her cleavage further up and out. Her nipples pressed against the cloth. The woman smiled appreciatively, the man lost count of his reps.

While showing off her cleavage, Holly was also aware of the room behind her. Mirrors can be so very useful. Several people were openly ogling her bum. She could feel her bum moving from side to side as she peddled and nearly giggled out loud when she saw a couple of men's heads moving in the same motion, their eyes locked to her cheeks.

Shifting her hips back a bit, Holly had decided she would give her rear 'viewers' a better view as well. She immediately realised that her change in posture had another benefit: her pussy was now in contact with the hard saddle below her. Shifting position a bit more Holly was able to begin gently grinding her clit against the seat.

Continuing to cycle and grind, Holly felt herself getting wetter and it wasn't just sweat. She felt wanton, displaying her sexy charms in tight lycra, enhancing the views for her audience and all but masturbating in public. It was really turning her on. She could feel her pussy seeping juice into the thong she was wearing under her leggings, the same thong and leggings which had worked their way further into her camel toe, giving her more pleasurable sensations as she moved.

She was getting hotter, getting hornier. She began to cycle faster, allowing her to grind harder. Biting her lip as she neared release, Holly closed her eyes, ignoring everyone around her, quickly getting closer to an unexpected but now a very much desired orgasm. Her hips began to move forwards and backwards. She pressed down on the saddle, increasing the pressure. Grinding, Pushing, Breathing deeper.

She went rigid and then began to shake as her orgasm tore through her. Cumming in public, Holly Willoughby could feel the contractions in her pussy, could feel her crotch getting wetter, the juice turning to cream and flooding out of her, soaking into her thong. Her nipples ached, pressed hard into the lycra of her top, clearly visible to the couple in front of her.

Recovering from her high, Holly realised she had just had an orgasm in front of several strangers! Quickly sitting up on the exercise bike, she began rubbing her hands up and down both legs, squeezing them, trying to make it look like she had cramp. She caught the eye of the woman in front of her who smirked knowingly, causing the blush to return to Holly's face.

Getting off the bike, Holly could feel just how wet her crotch had become. Glancing in the nearest mirror, she could clearly see the wet patch formed by her leaking pussy. Although she wanted to just get out of her clothes and hit the showers, she needed to complete her routine with some light stretching and some breathing exercises to cool down.

Moving to the mats, Holly sat down cross-legged, conscious of her wet crotch. She leaned left and then right, raising each arm in turn, stretching her torso -- and also pushing her boobs forward. Then stretching forward along her right leg and then her left leg repeatedly, feeling the lingering tension of her orgasm and the tensions from her earlier exercises begin to leave her body.

Changing into a deep lunge, the presenter continued to stretch her legs and core. Using the mirrors again, Holly was aware that she was presenting a rather enticing view of her bum again, her arse crack again visible through her leggings to her audience. Changing legs, she watched those watching her.

The men and women were still watching the tight-bodied blonde, all of whom appeared to appreciate the show. Curious, Holly looked for the man who appeared familiar and nearly stopped stretching when she saw him.

Whilst everyone was either concentrating on watching Holly Willoughby stretching her sexy voluptuous body or focussed on their own routines, this one guy had moved over to the exercise bikes, to one in particular: the one Holly had been using minutes earlier. Leaning over it, his face was pushed against the saddle and Holly could clearly see his rather large nostrils flaring as he sniffed deeply. The guy was sniffing her saddle! Smelling Holly's scent, the smell of her sweat, her bum and her pussy! That man was smelling her cum! And he was rubbing his crotch.

There was nothing Holly could do or say without making a scene and revealing that she had cum on the bike. Needing to finish her routine, the TV presenter sat back down and spread her legs wide to either side and leaned forward. She knew that her audience would still be staring at her, drinking in the sight of her tight bum, her flexing cheeks. She could still see them in the mirrors looking at her. She could also see that one guy still sniffing her saddle!

With her stretches completed, Holly sat Indian-style, closed her eyes and began to concentrate on her breathing. She could feel the tension in the room relax as the men and women saw the show was over and returned their own focus to their own routines once more. Breathing deeply, Holly felt herself relaxing. The people had enjoyed watching her and that one guy had enjoyed her scent. It was a compliment really, she reasoned. No harm, no foul.

Opening her eyes she saw no one was paying her any attention now and the saddle sniffer had gone. Workout complete and tension drained, Holly headed for the changing rooms. As she was about to enter the women's changing room, she saw the sniffer come out of the men's. Seeing him up closer, Holly finally recognised who it was.

"Hey, you're Oliver Evans! The famous photographer," she exclaimed.

"Guilty as charged, Miss Willoughby," Oliver said, clearly aware of whom he was talking too.

Yes, Holly definitely recognised him now! Oliver Evans was a renowned London-based photographer. If you were famous, you had to be photographed by him. He was published in only the very best publications in the UK and beyond, had taken prize winning images of models, actors, politicians, all sorts! If Holly could be photographed by Oliver it would help raise her profile. Not only would she be photographed by such an esteemed artist, but he would also be able to get it published such was his regard. But how to make that happen...

"You know, Oliver, I saw you in there. I saw you watching me. I saw you smelling the exercise bike after I used it," Holly said, her voice making it clear she was angling for something.

"Certainly I was watching you, as was the entire gym. You are after all a very beautiful, and if I may say, sexy woman. You look absolutely fantastic in that green lycra outfit. Very tight. You are very photogenic I think," he replied, not showing any embarrassment. Holly saw his eyes quickly glance at her chest and then her crotch.

That sounds promising

thought Holly,

but I need to push

.

"And the saddle sniffing?" she asked.

"As I say, you're a sexy woman and I just couldn't resist the opportunity to partake of your scent. It's a particular kink of mine. Please don't be embarrassed. I found your scent to be highly enjoyable. Very sexy, as was watching your routine," Oliver said frankly.

Holly really wanted to be photographed by this man. A photo-shoot by Oliver Evans could do wonders for her. But could she blackmail him to get what she wanted? Could she threaten to go to the press and reveal his sordid activities? It was not how she would ever have envisioned herself acting but she was getting desperate. What if she pushed too hard and he refused and called her bluff? That wouldn't help her at all, quite the opposite in fact.

"You know, Oliver, I would love to be photographed by you. You take such wonderful images and make women look so beautiful," she began.

"And it wouldn't hurt your career either, would it?" Oliver replied, quick to her game. "I have a proposal I'd like to make to you, if you would hear me out."

Now that sounds promising

thought Holly. If he was actually willing to take her pictures it would be so much easier than trying some kind of crass blackmail.

"Please, I'd love to hear it. How about we get cleaned and dressed and we can have a late lunch and discuss it?" she said.

"Well, actually my proposal involves how you are dressed right now," he said.

Looking down at herself in her tight green lycra top and leggings, Holly was a little confused. Maybe he wanted to photograph her in sportswear? Not what she had in mind, but still...

"Certainly. Er, I'd like to hear your proposal. What did you have in mind?" she asked.

"Business negotiations, even informal ones, shouldn't really be discussed in public," he said, indicating the corridor in which they stood. "Let's adjourn to one of the executive exercise rooms," he said before walking away, not waiting for a response.

Holly didn't feel threatened by this man. Oliver had a reputation of being good to work with and no one had ever had a bad word to say about him. And she really wanted,

needed

this photo-shoot.

The former TV presenter followed the photographer down the corridor and into a private room which he opened with a swipe-card he had produced from a pocket in his loose shorts. The room had a standard set of exercise equipment and was nothing special. It was only classed as an executive exercise room because it offered privacy away from other gym members.

"Please, have a seat," Oliver said, pointing to a weight bench. He himself set opposite her on another bench.

Holly sat with her legs at an angle, her ankles crossed. It was a prim-and-proper sitting position, but it did allow Holly to cover her camel toe which she was well aware remained damp from her earlier orgasm and exercising. Her hands were in her lap.

"Let us get straight to the point, Miss Willoughby," Oliver said, "You want me to photograph you and to be featured in one of the prestigious magazines I am affiliated with. Correct?"

"Please, call me Holly. And yes, that is exactly what I would like. It would help my career. After all, I did start as a model. It worked for me before, it could work again," she said, pushing her boobs forwards a little bit.

"And which magazine would you want to be featured in?"

"Well, Glamour Magazine would be amazing exposure," the sexy blonde said.

"Not British Vogue?" Oliver asked.

"Really? You could get me featured in British Vogue?" she asked, amazed that was actually an option, and immediately desperate to secure it.

"Yes. I could actually get you into next month's book. I am aware that a feature has had to be pulled and I can guarantee you that spot. A featured photo spread all of your own in one of the most prestigious books in the country. Quite an opportunity if we can come to an agreement."

It was then it dawned on Holly just what that agreement would probably entail. Stories of the 'casting couch' from American movies came to mind. But she was desperate, could she do it? Could she trade sexual favours to help her career?

Oliver saw the look on her face and it was clear what the busty blonde was thinking. He smiled.

"No, Holly, it's not quite what you seem to be thinking," he said to her.

"Not sex then?" she asked, confused.

"No. Sexual, but not sex. That's not my kink," he said.

Remembering what he said about his kink earlier, Holly asked, "You want to smell me?"

"Correct. Let me elaborate. My particular fetish is for women's underwear -- no, not wearing them," he laughed, "but smelling them, and smelling women. I enjoy the scent of a woman, quite literally. In return for the British Vogue photo-shoot I want the underwear you are currently wearing as well as the underwear you would wear during the actual photo-shoot. I want to smell you, your crotch and bum, directly. For right now I want you to, forgive the crudity of it, but I want you to sit on my face, and do those squats and stretches for me where I can have my face in your crotch and partake of your scent. And I want to touch you, to feel you through your gym clothes, to run my hands over your thighs, bum, vagina and boobs. Grope is an uncouth term but applicable here."

Holly looked puzzled.

"Really, that's all? No sex? Not even, er, oral or a handjob? Just smelling me and feeling me up while I exercise, and my thong?"

"Correct, Holly. If you agree we would begin now as you have just finished your exercise and had an orgasm on that exercise bike," Oliver said. He smiled gently at the look of embarrassment that had appeared on Holly's face. "Yes, I noticed and the smell on the saddle confirmed it. This is the perfect time for me to smell you and indulge my kink. Obviously discretion is paramount."

Holly didn't think it over for long. It was a harmless thing for her, and she had done far more with her husband and previous lovers and gotten a lot less from it. Oliver wasn't particularly attractive but not ugly either. He had been upfront and honest and his reputation was impeccable. And a little embarrassment now could result in a great pay-off later.