Appleby Blush

Chapter 5: Wilson receives an invitation

The soft pressure between Carmella's legs slowly brought her out of her sleep. Half conscious, she opened her legs wider so that the tongue running down the length of her labial lips had more room to continue its exquisite explorations. Arching her back, she thrust her hips forward to meet the lapping contact on her deliciously sensitive clit.

"Mmmm, yes, baby," she murmured, her lips parting as the pleasure shot through her. Her hands found the head between her thighs and she stroked her lover's ponytail.

"You like?" Donald Appleby murmured, pausing momentarily to stare up into her face.

"Oh yes, baby," she purred, luxuriating in on the sensations radiating around her sex. Her body arched higher and her hips pushed upwards. "Don't stop..."

She felt his fingers dig more tightly into her thighs as he held them apart, shuffling to make himself more comfortable on the oversized bed now that she was awake. Carmela rewarded him with another moan. Being brought out of her sleep like this was one of her greatest pleasures in life.

They both had lots of lovers, but Donald was easily the most inventive.

"I take it we're celebrating the deal," she groaned sexily, yanking hard enough on his pony tail to bring his head away from her wetness. Instantly, she pushed it down into her wet folds again. "Did I say stop?"

Appleby responded by reaching up and puling one of her legs over his shoulder. Carmella lazily curled her foot around his neck and jerked his hair again. He obediently worked his stiff and slippery tongue inside her and then began to thrust back and forward like a little cock. With each jerk of his head and pump of her hips, she could feel his morning stubble scrape across her skin.

The Columbian beauty moaned again. "Oh yes..."

Today was going to be such a good day, she hazily thought through the pleasure. Daly would fuck the brunette cop and that would complete her initiation into the Appleby world. There'd be no turning back from there. Marcia would deal with the blonde, too, though with her father being a cop they needed to take that one a little more slowly.

Then there was her plan for Sandra Wilson...

When Donald jabbed his tongue harder, faster, she moaned again. "Yes, there... just there..."

Her other leg bent at the knee as she planted the sole of her foot on the mattress and pushed her body even higher. Only her shoulders remained on the black bed linen. Her hands left his head and stretched out either side of her to claw at the sheets still crumpled from last night's lovemaking. Fortunately Donald's jet had brought him back home from Edinburgh in sufficient time for them to spend a good portion of the night fucking.

"Ah!" she cried as he rapidly shifted his focus to her clit.

Her palms were damp as they clung on to the sheets and her lover held her thrashing body more firmly as she began to hump his face. She loved being submissive like this and sent out a series of approving growls as he slid his mouth across her wetness and sucked up her hot uices.

"Yes... fuck, yes..."

Teetering on the edge, she felt his tongue go flat. God, she loved this moment. He knew just how to play her and he was so in control. She gripped his ponytail again with one hand, tighter this time, and whimpered like an animal on heat.

He lapped over her swollen button again and again and she couldn't take it any longer. The foot around his neck pressed down to drag his head even closer. One clawing hand gripped the sheets and the other held his hair, keeping him there.

Just there...

Squeezing his perspiring, juice stained face between her thighs one final time, she grunted in her native tongue as the orgasmic damn finally overwhelmed her.

***

"Still no sign?" Kirsten asked, swinging around to look at Goodwin as his head appeared in the doorway.

"She's still with Turner."

"It looks like the meeting's cancelled, then," Alice chimed in, glancing at the small clock on Sandra Wilson's wall. Ten o'clock. They'd been hanging around on and off for a couple of hours now. "What time are you due back at the agency?"

"Just after lunch," Kirsten answered, pulling a face. "I have an hour before I need to sort myself out." She glanced back at Goodwin. "Could they really still be talking about last night's do? For two hours?"

The barrel chested man leant against the doorframe. "No, the rest of Turner's reports left an hour ago. There's only Sandra in his office now."

The two women exchanged a nervous glance and then Alice turned to her dad. "D'you think Turner knows about our operation?"

Goodwin shook his head. They'd have heard by now if that was the case. Besides, he was pretty sure they'd be talking about the budgetary cuts Turner wanted, not that he could confide that to the others.

"I doubt it," he contented himself by saying. "I'm sure they have a million and one things to talk about."

"Doesn't sound like its good news, though," Alice persisted. "We all know how Sandra feels about that man."

"Half the force feels that way," Goodwin replied, pushing off the doorframe. "Well, I for one have some work to do..."

"Good," Kirsten grinned at him. "Close the door so that Alice and I can have a girly chat."

She ignored the grumpy look he sent her and waited until they were alone before turning back to Alice. "I thought it might be useful to compare notes."

"Sure," Alice replied, shuffling in her chair. "Good idea."

Kirsten's eyes narrowed a little. Was Alice feeling uncomfortable? If she was, there could only be one answer and that was that Tony Daly had done the same with her. Maybe that's what this was about? The agency lured unsuspecting women to an audition and ended up by dragging them into some sort of illegal sexual activity. Was that why Daly had come on to her yesterday?

The thought of being just another woman on his list hurt her more than it should.

"Can I ask you something, Alice?" she tentatively began.

"Of course."

Kirsten disguised her concern with a smile. There it was again, a flicker of nervousness across Alice's face. "Did Tony Daly come on to you yesterday?"

There was no other way to ask the question other than just to come out with it. She'd made up with Matt last night after they'd returned home and later, in bed, their lovemaking had been gentler. But she still knew that the man behind her closed eyes wasn't her boyfriend. In the early hours, when she'd lain awake, the same question had gone through her mind a thousand times.

For an excruciating second, she thought it was true. But after a momentary widening of those sea-blue eyes, her young colleague burst out laughing. "Come on to me? Heavens, no! I didn't even see Tony Daly yesterday."

"You didn't?" The brunette sat back, slightly shocked. How could she have got that so wrong? "I thought you were auditioning?"

"So did I." Alice turned squarer in her chair so they could face one another. "But Marcia told me I'd done enough the first time and that I was to meet Carmella."

"You met Carmella?"

"Well, no, not exactly. She was delayed somewhere."

Kirsten shook the cobwebs out of her head, trying to understand what Alice was telling her. "So what happened?"

"Marcia and I spent quite a while... chatting... and then I signed some pre-contract stuff."

"Good for you," Kirsten said, running a hand through her shiny, brown hair and laughing aloud. "You're making good progress, Alice."

As the two women grinned at one another, Kirsten gave a sigh of relief. Why did that conversation make her feel so much better? Was it because she wasn't just one of a number? That Daly just hadn't been able to resist coming on to her yesterday? That he fancied her? She had to admit that the thought did actually feel good. It was like having Wesley Snipes come on to you.

What girl would be able to resist?

***

Alice let out a sigh of relief. For a moment she thought the game was up, that Kirsten knew about what had happened between her and Marcia yesterday. That would have been embarrassing, especially after her chat with her dad.

She'd reflected on his words last night and come to the conclusion that the sexual turn of events should remain her secret. All they were interested in was results and no one cared how she achieved those. Okay, Marcia had shaved her, given her coke and finger fucked her...

But that's what went with undercover work, wasn't it?

"You're making good progress," Kirsten told her, smiling warmly at her younger colleague. "I've hardly seen Marcia since I first went to the studio."

"She said she'd bring me up to date with the workings of the agency," Alice gushed, seeing a chance to justify what had happened in her quest for information. She'd earn her stripes if she could make a breakthrough and intended to hold onto that thought. "If I can find out what goes on in there, that'll give us something to focus on."

"Good girl. You're not back there today?"

Alice shook her head and then blew a stand of blonde hair away from her face. "No, they said they'd let me know. But Marcia suggested she and I hit the town one night. That'll give us the opportunity to have a long chat."

"You two hit the town while I'm slaving away at another photoshoot today," Kirsten quipped, her dark eyes dancing. "It's okay for you youngsters..."

Alice laughed with her. "Yeah, it must be tough at your age. Anyway, they're definitely happy with you if they're already getting you involved in things. Is it Tony Daly that you mainly deal with?"

When Kirsten nodded but blushed, suddenly it all made sense to Alice. "He's come onto you," she half shouted, then giggled as she covered her mouth and glanced at the door. The last thing they needed was anyone walking in on the conversation. "He has, hasn't he," she continued, theatrically lowering her voice. "That's why you asked me."

"Look..."

"Go on," Alice chuckled, turning right around in her chair so that she could peer into her friend's deep brown eyes. "You can tell me. He's asked you out on a date, hasn't he?"

Kirsten laughed nervously. "No, Alice... he hasn't."

"Well, there's something there, I can tell," the young blonde murmured, her eyes gleaming with delight. "This is great, Kirsten. You get what you can from Daly and I'll do the same with Marcia. There's only one thing..."

The brunette gave her a quizzical look. "Which is?"

"You've got a boyfriend, girl," Alice laughed. "So no kissing on the first date."

***

"Brendan, I trust you slept well?"

The Detective practically jumped up from his seat at the sound of the voice. Shifting the phone from one ear to the other, he glanced around him. None of the other cops seemed to have noticed his sudden reaction.

"Can I call you back?" he softly asked, stifling his voice by turning to the wall beside his desk.

"Two minutes. No more."

"Hey Bren—" a voice shouted as he made his way across the room.

He turned. It was Flowers. "Give me five," he shouted back, waving his hand. "I have to make an urgent phone call. Something I shudda done but forgot earlier. Okay?"

"Your bookie?" the fair-haired Sergeant called after him.

Kaminski ignored the laughter that broke out. They were the schmucks not him. All putting their lives on the line for the pittance the Met paid. He was the smart one...

He took the stairs three at a time, heading down to the emergency exit beside the back loading bay. That's where he usually sneaked out for a quiet smoke. If the couple of others who also used that area were there, he was in big trouble.

To his relief, other than a couple of police vans parked at the far side, the place was empty. He lit a cigarette and called the private number. It was untraceable, but this morning Donald Appleby would be on the other end of the call.

"Five minutes, Brendan" the businessman smoothly observed. "You said two."

No, you said two, Kaminski thought. "Yes, I know. I'm sorry, Mr. Appleby. It's not easy to get some privacy in here."

"You have some now?"

"Yes, I'm outside in—"

"Good, good. I've been pondering on our meeting, Brendan. I trust the bonus arrived?"

"Yes, sir. Most unexpected and I really appreciate it." The timing of the unexpected money was ideal. There were two horses—absolute certainties—running in the next few days.

"I reward my employees, Brendan. Would you like to know what you have to do to earn it?"

"Yes, Mr. Appleby. Anything."

"You told this Goodwin you had someone on the inside."

"Yes, sir. He's been pushing me for something to help their investigation. I'm not sure I can keep—"

"Let me help, Brendan. Go straight to see Goodwin when we've finished this call. Tell him there's an open night at Appleby Modelling this evening. It's aimed at aspiring models over the age of thirty five."

"Yes, Mr. Appleby?"

"Think about it Brendan. How old is Sandra Wilson?"

"Er... around thirty five, I guess? You mean—"

"Indeed. There's no specific formula to the evening, just the opportunity to look around the premises, enjoy a glass of wine, and ask any questions that might be on their minds."

"Yes..."

"Ideal for someone who wants to see for herself what happens in enemy territory, don't you think?"

Kaminski smiled as the penny dropped. "I see, Mr. Appleby. And you want me to—"

"I want you to make sure Wilson attends, Brendan. For example, it could be that although attendance is strictly by invitation, Homicide had secured such an invite for one of its operatives. Unfortunately, they've now pulled that particular mission—I don't care why—and you can make the appointment available to Goodwin. He in turn should pass it on to Sandra Wilson."

"She might have other arrangements tonight..."

"She may, Brendan. In which case, we'll come up with something else. But think about it. She's investigating me and we're giving her an opportunity to check things out personally. Wouldn't you rearrange any prior appointments?"

***

Kirsten couldn't hide her disappointment. Why wasn't he there?

It was Marcia who'd met her at reception and escorted her to the dressing rooms. That wasn't how she'd pictured it all morning. The wavy haired cop had expected Tony Daly to meet her with the same hug he'd given her when she'd left the studios last night. She'd anticipated the same kiss on the cheek and for him to lead the way to the dressing rooms, with her eyes on that cute butt.

The curvy woman had handed her the usual drink when she'd entered the changing area and had told her that she'd have her outfit available after her shower.

"Drink up first," Marcia had told her in a way that suggested it was a requirement not a suggestion. "And then shower."

That had been ten minutes ago. Now she was in the shower and the water cascading across her body made her think of last night. Matt couldn't understand what had got into her and neither could she. When they'd got back to her flat, she'd ignored his questions and taken him to bed. Their lovemaking had been gentler, but she and hadn't let up until early morning.

Yet here she was, still horny...

She heard the door to the dressing rooms open and wondered what outfit Marcia would be leaving for her. One thing was for sure—whatever it was would cover more than yesterday. That skimpy thong had left nothing to the imagination and she was sure it was the way she'd flaunted her semi naked body at the photographer all afternoon that had kick started her arousal again.

Would it be the same today? And what would she be wearing? Maybe lingerie?

She'd like to dress up in underwear for Daly -- something black and sexy, with stockings. The brunette gave a little giggle as she imagined the look on his face. She was getting to know from certain expression when he was feeling 'it' too, and knowing she had that effect was a real turn on.

And Alice's admission that she hadn't seen the photographer yesterday made her feel much happier in herself.

"Hey."

The voice took her aback and her turn to look at him was almost in slow motion. For a few seconds, she couldn't decide if it was his nakedness that shocked her more than the fact he was there at all.

Whichever, Tony Daly's muscular naked body was even more impressive than she'd imagined.

His rich, ebony skin gleamed in the bright light of the shower room and his well defined muscular torso reminder her of one of the Olympic swimmers she'd watched on television. Then there was his cock. It was huge and swung provocatively as he walked towards her.

Just like she was, he was shaved clean—she'd never seen a man that way. The smooth effect was erotically surreal. So was the casual way he approached the shower and stepped inside, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

"Let me," he said, picking up the gel and pouring some onto his palms.

Kirsten put a hand against the wall to steady herself as she watched him, stunned into silence both by his nakedness and his amazingly calm demeanour. He gave her that wide smile that displayed all his white teeth and she found herself wondering if this was normal activity in a modelling agency.

It can't be, her puzzled mind argued with itself. But then he was stepping behind her and when she nervously swung her head around to follow his movement, his warm eyes seemed to be telling her it was okay

His touch seemed much lighter than yesterday and pin pricks of heat found their way around her body when he slowly spread the gel across her shoulders and back. When his hands covered her buttocks, caressing the soapy liquid into her hard globes with a languid ease, the pin pricks turned into a furnace.

Just as she felt the dizzy haze about to envelop her he was turning her body around. Her sex began to overheat at the thought of his hands on her breasts again and those wonderful fingers slithering down her stomach.

Instead, he surprised her again.

"Now me..." he simply said, handing her the gel.

Kirsten mechanically took it from him, aware that she hadn't yet spoken a word. Should she have objected when he appeared? Should she have said something to stop him entering the shower? It all felt too late now and the casual way he was acting as if this was normal almost made her belief that it was.

His hands took the gel back as she stared at him, unable to move. He tipped the bottle so that the liquid covered her palms and then placed them on his broad chest. "Wash me," he instructed, dropping his hands to his hips.

His skin was so smooth, Kirsten thought, as her hands began to move. She made a point of staying away from his huge cock—though all she wanted to do was touch him—even though it rose impressively with each sweep of her hands across his pecs. When he held the bottle out again she cupped her palms, allowing him to squeeze more of the liquid for her to apply to his muscular body.

"My back," he told her, although he made no effort to move position.

It seemed he wanted her to reach around him and Kirsten obliged. His semi erect cock brushed against her as she caressed the liquid into his skin and she knew then there was only one outcome. Her hands flirted with the top of his ass and then, as if they had a mind of their own, dropped to his hard buttocks. When she worked the gel into the crevice, she couldn't contain herself.

She wanted this man, she needed this man and she was going to have this man.

Both hands slid back around his body, one cupping his shaved balls and the other his huge cock. His grunts of approval set off a heat wave between her legs and, leaning forward, she ran her tongue around his right nipple.

Kirsten indulged herself for a few moments, switching nipples while slowly jerking his shaft. Then she was slithering downwards, his impressive hardness pushing against her body as she licked her way down his torso and dropped to her knees. The water cascaded over her like a waterfall, reminding her again of last night but this time the black man in her fantasy was real.