Getting The Job Holly Willoughby 05

Getting the Job: Holly Willoughby Part 5: The Xtra Factor: Auditions

By Imorol

NOTE: This story is inspired by the 2008 season of The Xtra Factor.

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

Now, to the story...

As a member of the X Factor team, Holly Willoughby had been travelling all over the country for The Auditions. It had been so much fun, meeting such a variety of interesting, funny and talented people. And of course many deluded ones who thought they could sing. Simon and Louis had been cheeky and very funny; Cheryl Cole and Dannii Minogue had been friendly enough. Dermot O'Leary had always been a great friend and...well, that's another story. The crew had been full of energy and laughter, as well as being top notch in their production. And the producer...

Martin Archer, the shows new producer, had a lot of work to do in London and so was not available for much of the audition process. At first Holly had been surprised and a little relieved by how little he had been around, but his absence had allowed her to concentrate on her work. Judging by the reviews and audience feedback, she had done well. Her popularity had bounced back and she had received some interesting offers of work.

Although there had been reservations about the route she had taken, it was proving to be a beneficial choice. True to his word, the pictures Martin had taken remained private, and so the viewing public retained the image of Holly Willoughby as the sweet innocent girl-next-door type.

That's not to say the producer had been completely absent. Ensuring the smooth running of the show had necessitated he visit the production when it was on the road occasionally. Even when he was around though, he didn't always seek out Holly for his 'satisfaction'.

It had not taken the presenter long to realise her clothes influenced when the producer wanted to be satisfied.

Currently filming in Cardiff, it was cold outside. Holly was doing interviews with the wannabe pop stars that lined up in the long queues. She was wearing a long tawny-coloured coat over a casual outfit of a loose white top, comfy jeans and ankle boots. A stagehand ran up and informed her that the producer wanted to see her. Hugging her long coat around her, Holly was glad to get inside and hurried off.

"Ah, Holly, it's good to see you again! Having a fun time?" Martin Archer asked when she entered his working office.

"Hi Martin! It's a little cold out there," she said, pointing to her coat, "But I'm having such a wonderful time. The energy here is unbelievable."

After an awkward pause, she continued, "You wanted to see me?"

"I do indeed want to

see

you," he said, looking her up and down in her coat.

Since the auditions had started filming, this wasn't the first time he had called upon her. Although the first time had felt awkward, Holly Willoughby knew that her career depended on her sexually satisfying the producer.

Without hesitation she removed her coat, throwing it on a nearby chair. He looked her up and down in her top and jeans and his smile faltered briefly. It was obvious to Holly that he didn't find her outfit appealing, but she didn't get to choose her wardrobe.

"How can I satisfy you today, sir?" she asked.

Martin seemed to think for a minute then reached for his camera on a table behind him. His finger tapped on a small number pad attached to it. As reassurance, he had shown Holly that the camera required a pin code to be accessed and used. Considering the images it captured, she was grateful.

"Let's add a couple of shots to our visual diary," he said, referring to his growing collection of photographs documenting her wardrobe...and other things. "You know the routine," he said.

Standing with feet together and hands on hips, Holly gave a sexy smile as the camera clicked. Turning to the side, she made sure to thrust her chest out, realising that the loose top was not enhancing the view. Now with her back to her boss, she heard the camera click again.

Hmm, these jeans aren't tight. He won't be satisfied

, she thought. Turning and presenting another side view, she again knew the top wasn't highlighting her attributes.

Oh crap!

When she faced him again, Martin saw her looking apologetic.

"It's ok, Holly. Don't worry about the outfit. I know you don't have a say on your wardrobe."

Relieved, she smiled gratefully.

"Maybe you could have a word with them? Get them to choose something you prefer?" she suggested.

"No. We don't want the people in wardrobe questioning why I'm picking your outfits. Besides, I like the idea of taking a gamble that I like what you're wearing."

"Ok," she smiled.

"Now, lift your top and drop your jeans." When the jeans were down to her knees, "Actually, leave those there."

Jeans around her knees, she had revealed a lacy pair of yellow panties. Raising the baggy top, Holly exposed her large boobs encased in a lacy white bra.

Click

. Pressing in with her forearms, she pushed her tits closer together, making her cleavage look bigger.

Click

. She turned to her side, keeping her hands and arms out of the way.

At least my boobs and bum will look good this time

, she thought.

Click

. Turning her back, Holly pushed her arse out to emphasise her curves.

Click

. Another turn and another

click

.

And that had been it for that particular run-in. He'd made his excuses and left. A little perturbed, Holly had gotten dressed again and went back to work. Later that afternoon she'd had a quiet word with wardrobe about their choices. Despite the producer's reassurances, Holly was concerned that the clothes she was being put in would bore him and he'd lose interest. If that happened, would it affect her career?

Standing on a private landing strip, Holly Willoughby had just finished filming a skit with Simon Cowell. Holding a black umbrella, the hot blonde was wearing a plain beige coat over a pink single-shoulder dress and wedge heels. The skit finished with Simon being driven away in 'his' Rolls Royce. But once the cameras finished filming he exited the luxury car before being taken away in a Mercedes.

After finishing the second part of the skit involving a comically small red car, Holly noticed the producer, Martin Archer. The Rolls Royce was actually his car, loaned for the shoot.

"Miss Willoughby, would you care to take a seat in my car and get out of this rain?" he asked.

"Oh yes. Thank you," she replied, grateful to get out of the drizzle.

Climbing into the back of the opulent dark blue car, the presenter was not at all surprised when he joined her. Closing the door, he pressed a button on a control panel and the already tinted windows turned opaque. From the outside nothing at all was visible within. Inside, Holly could look out and see the film crew beginning the process of moving their equipment for filming elsewhere at the airstrip.

"Coat and shoes, please," Martin said, taking his camera from the parcel shelf.

Removing the items, she turned to look at her boss and raised her eyebrows, awaiting directions.

Leaning against the passenger door, Holly smiled sexily as she was photographed, focus on her chest. She used her hands to lift her tits up, eliciting a pleased smile from Martin. Raising her dress she flashed her bright pink panties at the photographer, getting another grin.

"Leg up on the seat... spread your legs wide for me," he said, clearly getting excited. His trousers were starting to bulge.

Holly continued to smile brightly as the camera moved closer, focusing between her open legs. Despite herself, she could feel her pussy starting to moisten. Martin was enjoying the view, the great big grin on his face as evidence.

"Hands and knees, let me see that sexy arse!" he commanded.

Flipping over and raising the back of her dress, she wiggled her bum as the camera clicked away. Looking forward, she could see a crewmember walking past, three feet away, separated by the car's door and dark windows.

What would he think if he could see me now?

She giggled.

"Arch your back, push that arse to me," Martin said. And she did, feeling her panties pulling a little tighter against her crotch. "Oh yeah," he groaned. "Pull your knickers down!"

Holly Willoughby, in the back of a luxury car, on all fours, knickers at her knees, cunt and arse being photographed by her lecherous boss

, she thought. She was feeling so wanton and hot right now! She felt her pussy wetten on his next instruction.

"Spread that pussy. Open that arse!"

Outside the crewmember glanced at the car whilst inside Holly braced her chin on the window sill, reached behind, fingers moving over her naked round bum. Grasping her cheeks, she pulled, exposing her little pink arsehole to the camera.

Click

.

Click

.

Click

. Reaching further, the celebrity presented her coral pink dripping pussy, pulling the lips wide apart.

Click

.

Click

.

Click

.

Bet you wish you could see this right now

, she thought, looking at the crewmember as he picked up a piece of equipment and walked off.

Hearing a groan behind her, Holly felt her producer moving closer, then a finger pushed into her cunt. The kneeling blonde moaned as the thick finger went deep before being thrust in and out roughly. A pause, movement as the man moved closer than a tongue trying to push straight up her arsehole! Holly squealed!

"Eat me, Martin. Lick me out! Eat my arse and my pussy!" she moaned, continuing to hold herself wide open.

Leaning forward, Martin drove his tongue harder, burrowing into the beautiful blonde's quivering butt hole. He circled her ring before trailing his tongue down to her sodden pussy, his chin already wet. He licked her up and down, stuck his tongue inside, sucked her clit and drew her lips into his mouth.

"Hmm, French my kitty," Holly moaned. She loved being eaten like this. After a few minutes, he pulled back, leaving Holly panting, wanting to cum.

"Turn around," Martin said as he moved back, licking the pussy juice from his lips.

Turning, Holly watched as the producer undid his fly and started fishing around inside. She was a bit confused. Knowing the size of the monster down there, there was no way it was coming out that way in its currently rigid state. Seeing her expression, Martin smiled.

"Something I like," he said, finally pulling his testicles out of his trousers. He sat there, just his huge balls hanging out of his fly.

Instinctively knowing what he wanted, Holly Willoughby leaned down. Little pink tongue poking out of her mouth, she began licking his sweaty balls. Coating his scrotum with her saliva, she chased his balls, trying to move them around with just her tongue. The smell of his sweaty sack filled her nostrils, heightening her own desire. Closing her lips on the loose skin she began to suck, tasting the skin, the sweat. Tugging with her teeth gently, eliciting a groan from the man above her.

"Oh, Jesus! Suck them. Suck them!" he demanded.

Nuzzling into the wrinkled pouch, she chased a huge bollock, her wet pink tongue trying to manoeuvre it. Her lips closed, her mouth sucked. Her boss moaned and trembled. Holly kept sucking his ball, desperately trying to get the entire thing in her mouth. Moving to the other she tried again, this time managing to get it all. Her hand moved forward and began pinching and twisting the scrotum, hearing more moans.

"That feels fantastic, keep going," Martin said, his face sweaty.

Holly Willoughby kept sucking her employer's balls, smelling and tasting his sweaty nut sack, pushing her face into the soft wrinkled skin. Her lips and tongue were everywhere, licking and sucking.

Reaching down, the man pulled desperately at his trousers, yanking them open and releasing his straining cock. Grabbing the back of Holly's head he pulled her away from his saliva soaked balls. Pointing his cock at her open, gasping mouth, he pulled her down on it, groaning as the warmth enveloped the head.

Wrapping her hands around the huge thick shaft, the sexy blonde dressed in pink began sucking her boss' cock. Her head bobbing, saliva dripping, she went down further and further.

Glock

.

Glock

.

Glock

. Taking in more, the cock going deeper.

Glock

.

Glock

.

Glock

. She reached down and started scratching the wet balls. Her mouth kept sucking, her tongue kept moving.

It became too much for Martin. Holding her head, he let out a deep groan and blasted his cum into Holly's mouth. Shot after shot of hot salty sperm hit the back of her throat, causing the woman to swallow again and again. The sound of her working throat was loud in the car.

Holly Willoughby, on her knees sucking her boss' cock and swallowing his spunk. Britain's favourite cum drinker

, she thought. With her hand covered in her saliva and the sweat from the man's meaty balls, she reached between her legs and began rubbing her clit frantically, chasing her own climax.

Martin panted as the last of his cum erupted, drawn out by the vibrations of Holly's mouth as she moaned her own orgasm. He watched her arse wiggling around erratically as the sexy woman brought herself off.

After tidying themselves up they exited the car and went about their day's work.

Sometimes their work schedule didn't permit much to happen. For instance, Holly was wearing an open-backed dress, light grey with an animal print. The rear strap of her black bra was clearly visible, the slit of the dress wide. Walking into an empty room, she was followed by Martin close on her heels. As soon as the door was locked, he reached for Holly, his fingers quickly unclasping her bra. His hands pushed inside her dress, reaching round and pushing the cups away from her tits. He then spent the next few minutes groping her bangers, pinching her nipples and grinding his crotch against her arse. Holly pushed her boobs into his hands, wiggled her arse against the lump behind her.

But a telephone call resulted in Martin having to rush off to deal with something. Holly was left to put her bra on before returning to her own duties. Later in the day Martin captured his usual set of photographs of Holly.

Holly had also noted that not only did her wardrobe influence when she was molested but also influenced what Martin wanted to do. Although he hadn't really been a fan of Holly in comfy jeans, he certainly seemed to like her in tight trousers.

Holly was wearing a thin black blouse with a white flower print, black trousers and bright blue heels. Currently another talentless couple were in front of the judges, Simon being his usual vicious self. As the diatribe continued, Holly turned to the camera and defended them, saying Simon was being harsh, that the couple hadn't been

that

bad.

Over the cameraman's shoulder she noticed Martin Archer standing in the shadows. This was one of the times where the producer was 'on set' most of the day. When the production was running smoothly, a rarity, he enjoyed sitting in on the auditions.

In her earpiece, the director was instructing her cameraman to capture some B-roll footage. Almost as if he had somehow overhead what was said, her producer caught Holly's eye and nodded his head, calling her over.

Moving through the crew, she joined him at the back of the room in the shadows. Both were leaning against the wall, facing the on-going auditions and made small talk about the show, the contestants, etc.

As they chatted, Martin slowly reached over, his fingers running up and down the side of her bum. Nervous, Holly glanced around but no one was paying them any attention. They were both wearing dark clothes and were in the shadows. No one saw the producer push her hand behind the beautiful blonde presenter, forcing his hand between her sexy big bum and the wall.

Continuing their chat as if nothing untoward was happening, Holly Willoughby was fully conscious of her boss' hand groping her bum. He was squeezing her cheeks, fingers trying to work their way to the crack of her arse. A bit of pressure indicated for Holly to take a step forward which she did. Now free to move, the hand began groping her other cheek.

Holly felt herself blushing as she was felt up, the hand running over her big bum, squeezing, while in front of them were the cast and crew of the X Factor. This was dangerous. This was naughty. This was exciting! Barely stifling a gasp, she felt thick fingers clawing at her bum crack, pressing in. Fingers and hand continued to molest her for several minutes, the entire time she was blushing but keeping up a steady stream of chit-chat.

When the hand finally released her, she watched as Martin raised it to his face and casually sniffed his fingers, trying to inhale the smell of her arse. Holly knew there wouldn't really be anything to smell apart from body heat, but it was nasty and it was sexy. Shortly after Holly was called for and returned to work.

Throughout the day the producer found further opportunities to grope her. Whenever the two crossed paths and no one was looking, his hands would be all over Holly's arse. But when it was safe to do so, his hands also travelled down between her legs, his fingers pushing roughly against her crotch. Holly was sure he was trying to press her trousers and panties into her admittedly wet fanny, attempting to give her a camel toe. And he succeeded. Several times after being molested in the shadows, in empty corridors, spare rooms and behind the audition set, Holly had to reach down herself to rearrange her clothes, lest anyone take any undue attention of her.

During a break in shooting, Martin followed her into an empty makeup room. The blonde presenter placed her hands on the makeup table, leaning forward, legs straight, shoulder width apart, bum pushed back. Looking over her shoulder with a sexy grin on her face, she saw her producer staring hungrily at her arse.

Dropping to his knees behind her, he grabbed with both hands, groping her again. Within what felt like seconds, Martin had pushed his face against her, trying to bury his face into her crack. Holly pushed back as he ground his face against her, sniffing her bum, sniffing her cunt, inhaling her scent and her heat.

Adjusting his position, the TV executive forced his flushed face against the woman's pussy. He was in heaven. On his face and neck he could feel the body heat of his prize, coming in waves from her thighs and her crotch. His nostrils were full of that same heat but mixed with the pleasant, musky smell her Holly's hot cunt, the faint aroma of her clean butt hole.

"Get your trousers down!" he ordered, his pulse racing.

Seconds later Holly Willoughby was looking at herself in the mirror, eyes bright with arousal. Over her shoulder she saw her boss' red face, eyes wide with lust as he shoved his huge cock up her sopping wet cunt. The fuck was short but hard, rough. Martin was desperate to shoot his cum, to release the spunk which had become pent up after grouping the presenter all day.

The hot blonde watched in the mirror as the man thrust again and again into her, shoving her body forward, pulling her back, thrusting deep and hard. Watched as her body juddered with each impact, felt the cock deep inside her. Martin was not gentle, desperate in his need to cum. Holly Willoughby didn't care it was a rough fuck. She wanted it, needed it, needed her climax has much as the man taking her hard.

With a grunting final thrust, the producer buried himself as deep as he could inside Holly Willoughby. Hands gripping her hips he kept himself deep inside her, stuffing the blonde goddess completely. Spunk rushed out of the man and into her, forced its way through her cervix and deep into her womb. Blast followed blast, filling the not-so-innocent looking TV presenter.