Lucille Nailed It Ch 06

The Aussie trio (Lucille posing as an honorary Aussie)on arriving in New York on a short business visit didn't have to go past Melanie Fergus of

Eureka! Fashion

magazine.

Lucille met Mel at a bar, dressed in jeans, heels and top, looking like thousands of other nondescript New Yorker babes in bars and Mel agreed to give Lucille the opportunity to present a formal presentation for a sister relationship between the two magazines.

"All of your senior executives?"

"Agreed."

"Great, we'll put on a fashion show for you guys to set the ball rolling. But enough of business - how's your sex life?" Lucille said to her old friend who'd also been a Mrs Graham's protégé.

Because of the show being staged, Mel switched the usual meeting place from the board room to the salon and invited all company staff to attend.

When the three young women from Australia strutted into her office wearing their finest she'd been quite over-come and ordered one of her editors to interview the trio later and to have the mini show filmed and photographed.

Over two days the trio had rehearsed in their hotel suite, with Mo being groomed to present the commentary. They hired two male models to join Ashleigh and Lucille on the catwalk.

The Americans loved everything - the clothes, the modeling and Mo's laconic commentary, interspersed with Aussie slang... 'This thingummy-jig was designed by a tight-ass Aussie sheila with a couple of tinnies over her limit but stone the crows, isn't it a corker?' Or pure invention such as 'This Outback shirt for a fashion-conscious Jill wanting to have a hump in the saddle on the four-day camel ride to the nearest watering hole has no shelf bra, in fact no bra at all because it has built in guttering to siphon off the sweat and dust. Notice the curved deep zip like a man's fly to allow her to pee standing up like one of the guys'.

At the end of the show the team received a standing ovation and then Ashleigh gave the America's a brilliant résumé of Australia's attitudes to fashion, areas of the world that influenced its designers and areas where Australia was uniquely making its mark.

She concluded: "Mel, we're not taking these show garments back with us. I'm donating them to you and suggest you make your selection then auction off the remainder to staff and donate the money raised to a charitable organization. Or else burn them as rubbish."

"Auction, auction!" yelled many of the women and Mel said an auction would be held.

That afternoon the company's editorial board adopted a sister-publication arrangement that allowed the swapping (with copyright issues resolved) of up to thirty pages per issue of editorial features between each magazine.

Until their flight home Lucille worked alongside Mel looking at material, meeting personnel and ensuring the 'sisterhood' publishing relationship became bedded in.

On the visitors' last night in New York they were guests of Mel and her husband, a financier, who had no difficulty arranging three acceptable 'buddies' to escort the visitors to bars, restaurants, shows and a glorious final evening at the Met.

After the opera and supper, when Mel and husband departed, the visitors took their male partners back to their hotel suite, the intention being to wander off to their bedrooms with their respective guy. Only it didn't happen like that. Under pressure from the guys they engage in a full scale groupie.

Lucille later remembered, almost in shock, at having her Ross slamming into her doggy style deep into her pussy and roaring his head off while she had her tongue entwined with Ashleigh's while Mo was sucking Lucille's breast their guys worked on their dates' very wet pussies.

Two hours later the guys were shooed off home and the three women showered and then climbed into bed together and went at it until they fell asleep.

"God, I haven't had that much sex since I was in a gang bang at university," Ashleigh said next morning, bringing in coffee for the three of them. Mo just stirring said, "I doubt if I can walk."

"Sex is one of the uneven things about life," Mo smiled, yawning. "One either gets not enough of it or two much though I do believe some women get it on call."

"I'm one of those lucky ones," Ashleigh said, hopping back into bed. "Yuk, this bed smells like a brothel."

"Only you would know that," Lucille said, stretching and at the same time receiving a smack across the face by a pillow swung by giggling Ashleigh.

"Children, come now - no pillow fighting," Mo clucked. "If you have excess energy to burn have more sex; I'd love to watch America versus Australia lick and finger their way for the ultimate title."

Ashleigh went off to shower.

Mo seized the moment. "Lucille do you get more sex than you can comfortably handle?"

"No but I wish."

"But... you and my randy brother."

"We've only done it on three occasions and then that was it. There is something I just won't do."

"Oh God my brother is a three orifice man."

"I didn't say that Mo."

"That's true and I'll keep that unexpected revelation to myself. Digger and I, um, did some experimenting when we were in our late teens but he didn't know about the back door in those days."

"Yes," Ashleigh smiled coming in to get her make-up kit and joining the conversation.

"Digger was a randy sod when we were around twenty. He used to finger me at the drop of a hat and we had a few full on sessions when he was home from university until he confined his interest to older woman, including my mum and her sister Val. I caught the three of them at it one afternoon on Christmas Eve. I had a great Christmas that year because the three of them were so lovely to me and treated me generously with presents when I promised to keep my mouth shut."

"Your mother?" Mo said weakly.

"Yes and my two older sisters and I daresay any other woman in the vicinity who was game.

Lucille asked, "What was he like at it in those days?"

"Very accomplished," Ashleigh said, blushing as she left for the bathroom at speed.

Lucille thought she needed a regular man and resolved to do something about it.

Later after going with Mo for the signing of the legal documentation for the sister-partnership, they went to the airport for their flight to LA.

Mo reviewed their achievements and they agreed it had been very worthwhile. Ashleigh revealed she'd appointed two agents to market her clothing to distributors. The larger agency was licensed to service all States along the eastern seaboard and swinging into the Gulf of Mexico to include Texas, New Mexico and Arizona; the other agent would service all other American states.

"That's wonderful - it's more than made this trip worthwhile for you," Mo said, hugging her. Lucille also congratulated her and Ashleigh agreed that it would cost her big money as it would mean increasing factory production considerably.

"I had been thinking of marketing to the world through resorts but the sheer size of building up the contacts and resources rather overwhelmed me, so I backed off. Once this American initiative settles down I'll be better-placed to build up to global marketing."

Ashleigh went to the restroom with Lucille, Mo electing to look after their carry bags.

"I couldn't bring this up in front of Mo but Lucille, I want you to join my board - a vacancy occurs at the next month. I also want a closer association with you working one 12-hour Saturday a month as a marketing consultant to our strategic planning group - there are just five of us."

"Me?"

"And why not?"

"For starters, I'm not an administrator so appear unsuited to sit on a board and you know as much about fashion and planning as I do and so..."

"Lucille and I say everyone in that planning group lacks global vision and experience, Lucille. I rather think you are unaware of what a huge resource you are. Just do it...please! You can resign either or both postings if you don't find satisfaction in those roles. Please!"

"You're not just making these wild suggestions so you can have me on hand to rub pussies when you get the urge."

"You filthy bitch," Ashleigh laughed. "Now that's the kind of thinking that places you in the A-team."

A toilet flushed in one of the booths and an elderly woman emerged. "My dears, what wonderful conversations you young women have these days. You must lead very exciting lives. Women were not sexually liberated in my day."

She walked away, leaving two red-faced women in her wake.

"Well?"

"Yes."

"That's a yes to both appointments?"

Lucille nodded and they hugged, breaking apart hastily when the main door began to open.

That informal meeting in the restroom established depth to Lucille's business career; it was the beginning of her branching out in business activity.

Lucille met Ashleigh's husband Martin at the airport when they arrived just after 9:15 in the morning.

Martin, a former Footballer of the Year, still looked in great shape and during his football career had managed to complete a degree in business studies and was now chief executive of Ashleigh's business. Out of earshot of Mo he welcomed Lucille to the company and invited her to attend her first group meeting on Saturday week, always held at a five-star hotel and partners joined the team for drinks at 8:00 and then late dinner.

"We start the meeting at 7:00 in the morning and stay in the hotel overnight."

"I don't have a partner so will it be okay to be odd person out?"

"Not at all, but I'll tell Bob Song who our consultant and session team leader will not be bringing his lady and that evens up numbers."

"Oh I couldn't impose on him like that."

"Ha he's married so ought to be accompanied by his wife, not his girlfriend; he won't mind."

They spotted Digger waving, running with a very young woman in tow.

"Christ he's cradle snatches," Mo laughed. "That Chrissie McKeon, daughter of the media mogul. She's not much over twenty. Budge McKeon used to be our neighbor when we lived with our parents in Elizabeth Bay in the days when dad ran our publishing company. As a young kid she was dotty on Digger."

Lucille felt no resentment watching Digger approach with her casual sex replacement.

The young woman looking at Lucille, Mo and Ashleigh thoughtfully probably was marveling that three such attractive women could jet off internationally without the company of men.

Digger kissed Lucille on the cheek and had just introduced her to Chrissie when a news team from Channel 7 arrived for a spot interview.

"How did you know we were arriving back on this flight?" Lucille asked the interviewer as the three women were combing their hair and attending to make-up.

"Bob Song sung your praises," the young interviewer giggled.

Right Dingo Bob, she owed him one, Lucille decided.

"Paula interview us about the fashion show we put on for a New York fashion mag and then hit Ashleigh,"

Lucille briefed the interviewer in a whisper. "She's just signed up two agents who'll promote her offerings of Aussie Beachwear and Outback wear throughout America. This is a colossal coup, believe me. And asked her about how part funding by a Government agency of this business enterprise trip gave her this great opportunity and then finish with Mo. Ashleigh and I modeled Ashleigh's female garments and Mo commentated - ask her to give her commentary in Australian idiom of the women wearing Outback shirts with no bra and why the woman's pant zip is so long. It's hilarious."

Crowds in the terminal gather round to watch the three attractive 'Aussie' women being interviewed - Ashleigh being recognized by many and Lucille as well.

Within minutes Mo became an instant TV celebrity when she gave the résumé of her modeling commentary, everyone laughing unrestrained, the cameraman catching their reaction.

"I bet America loved you lovelies," said the interviewer, winding up. She phoned the studio and said she'd captured a great interview with which to end the evening's news bulletin.

"It's magic and it ends in a scream," she gushed.

Driving away from the airport Digger asked casually, "We have an early lunch meeting - but if you girls are tired after more than twenty-five hours since leaving New York we can cancel."

"No we slept like lambs," Mo said. I'm okay - what about you Lucille?"

"I'm a little jaded but can hold up. What kind of business meeting Digger?"

"Big time, I have to say and this directly affects you Lucille. Chrissie's father and his associates want to buy us out."

Mo said she didn't much like the sound of that. She liked the way things were.

Lucille said, "Drop me off at my apartment Digger as this is no business of mine except tell them if

Fashion Up

is to be propped up to prosper, then I'm willing to continue on present terms and conditions. But if the magazine is for the chop Digger, then I want you guys to sell it to me company, lock, stock and barrel including all debts and receivables."

Mo was indignant. "They wouldn't dare, not after what we've been through to resuscitate the mag."

"They would and I think they will, as soon as they see the bottom line," Lucille said. "Do they possess that info Digger?"

"Yes."

Chrissie piped up. "Listen to Lucille, guys. She's talking sense. The nickname for my father and his business aides is 'The Barracudas'. Making big bucks is the name of their game - none of them is a publisher's asshole, I'd say."

That description broke the tension and they all laughed loudly.

Lucille said, "They've offered you a lucrative executive position, haven't they Digger?"

"Yes."

"What about Mo?"

Digger said, "They're thinking about that."

"And Andrew?"

"He wants the money as he aims to start up his own business, to be closer to home and doing something Debs can be involved in."

"Fair enough. Well Mo, if they don't want you or you don't want them I'll have you as my minority business partner and chief executive. I mean that and really want you so choose carefully."

"If you want the mag you should be at this meeting fighting for it," Digger said.

"Why bother? If they don't want it, they don't want it. I'm going home to plan my house warming. Then later Debs is taking me to an immigration expert she knows to win me Australian citizenship."

"Lucille may I come with you?" Chrissie said. "You have a sleep and I'll stock up your pantry."

"Yes of course Chrissie - but don't you have studies or a job to go to?"

"I have no job because nobody wants me and I do graphic art studies at night. Once I graduate at the end of this year I guess someone will want me but once they learn who my father is they'll be like all the others, thinking daddy's little rich kid won't need to hold down a job and will come doped up to the eyeballs and spend every afternoon at the hair salon."

"Chrissie you promise not to come to work doped up to the eyeballs and spend every afternoon at the hair salon, I'll find you a place in my company when I get organized if I get my hands on the magazine," Lucille smiled. "You don't appear to be a deadbeat to me."

Lucille awoke four hours later, stretched and went out to pour herself a fruit juice.

"Oh, sorry," she apologize walking into the combined kitchen-living room starkers, where Chrissie was stretched out on the wood polished floors surrounded by fashion magazines. "I forgot you were here" and darted behind the kitchen bench.

"It's fine - I attended boarding school and swim a great deal - always surrounded by nude bodies. I noticed you shave. Is that really big in New York?"

"I don't believe so. New Yorkers appear brash but privately they're quite conservative. I picked up the practice after observing Italian and French models. The only hair they have is on their head. Coffee?"

"Yes please."

"Chrissie kindly fetch my gown hanging behind my bedroom door."

Lucille put the coffee tray on the floor and lay down beside Chrissie.

"It's lovely lying in the sun flicking through great magazines," Chrissie said. "Girl to girl sex was rife at boarding school."

"Um should we be talking about that?"

"I was letting you know should you ever be interested. You have an amazing body."

"Chrissie we've only just met."

"So?"

"So nothing. And if you don't mind me saying so you don't fit a chubby body."

"What do you mean?"

"Your body type is similar to mine - it doesn't have to be chubby."

"Say it, go on say fat."

"Yes, fat, fat, fat and there's no need for it being there."

"You're cruel."

"Oh really, almost everyone seems to think I'm lovely. You invited me to say fat so I rubbed it in, getting you use to the idea that I know your agony."

"My what?"

"You crave to be thinner."

Looking rattled, Chrissie thrust out her jaw, "Be cruel, I don't care and you're not going to upset me."

"Don't be so melodramatic Chrissie. Your thinner body wants out but you won't allow it."

"What!"

Lucille stroked Chrissie's back and told her to calm down. "Where do you live?"

"With my parents why?"

"Are they plump?"

Chrissie, looking defensive, said her father was and her mother was also a big eater and periodically went on a dieting binge.

"Then you ate what they ate?"

"Yes, but there's no crime in that and anyway I meant my real mother; she's now married to someone else."

Lucille told Chrissie to hold tight, that she was about to be told something she may not like.

"If you reduce you food intake - possibly down to a quarter of what you are consuming at present - and walk and exercise, within a few weeks you'll find the excess weight melting from your body and providing you keep to your slimming and exercise routine you'll stay in model shape."

"I've been told that often but I lack motivation."

"Well Chrissie it's up to you; neither option is palatable, if you'll excuse the pun."

"I like you Lucille," Chrissie said, sipping her coffee and looking at Lucille with admiration.

Lucille told her visitor she often had visions coming out of sleep.

"Just now I have this great thought about you and it had nothing to do with sex," she giggled, Chrissie joining her.

"Tell me, tell me."

"First, you tell me something. What do you draw?"

"At present we are on to technical drawing - actually drawing the engine of a Holden car in exact detail. There are only two women in our class so we were outvoted on this project."

"Do you sketch?"

"Yes I love sketching - I began drawing birds as a young girl and then branched out into trees."

They giggled, happy to be talking so freely while sitting on the floor in the sun.

Lucille's voice tightened: "Have you ever sketched clothes?"

"Oh yes, I have cartons full of them at home. Why?"

"In my vision I saw you, head bowed over a drawing board sketching for me. Are you aware of the term conceptual imaging?"

"Of course and it means converting someone's visualization on to paper. Oh God, you can't draw, can you? You have these ideas in your head and just like my slimmer body they can't get out."

Lucille nodded, eyes glistening and Chrissie reached over and rubbed between the shoulders, just as Lucille had done to her a few minutes earlier.

"I've had designers working alongside me attempting to draw my ideas but the end result, though good, never quite matches what's in my head. I'm really excited about you, Chrissie - if you have the necessary talent you could be my dream person. You are young, still impressionable and flexible and if we can fuse you'll be capable of visualizing what's in my head."

"You really believe that?"

"Yes, depending on our compatibility. Look, I eat and exercise to a regime - why don't you move in here with me and come under my influence to help you eat and drink better. If it works, in your gratitude it may spark the relationship to bond us closely."