Disclaimer: The following story contains sex scenes and rude words. The decency laws in most states would require it not be read by persons under 18, or, in some places, 21. Also, if you're offended by adult themes, you should probably leave now. More importantly, this tale features women presented as sexual objects. There is nothing wrong with this, as they are only fictional characters. I urge readers, especially young males, to not regard real women in this way.
This work is © 2001 the author.
There is no Nicola. All characters are fictitious. The situations are made-up. This is only a fantasy, so any similarity to real persons and events is pure coincidence.
*****
Typically, the phone rang as Nicola was in the shower. She answered it, her tanned body glistening with water.
"Hi Knickers, it's Scott Keen."
"Scott, hi!" Nicola replied warmly. "It's great to hear from you. Especially since I'm wet and naked."
Scott Keen was a casting agent. Not just any lowly, B movie casting director- he cast for big Hollywood features. Nicola had just wrapped on Bikini Stewardesses 2, and while the B biz was good to her, Nicola wouldn't say no to a part in a major motion picture.
"Listen," said Scott, "I just had a real interesting conversation with your agent. He said it'd be cool if you come work one of my parties this weekend."
"A party?" Nicola asked. Scott's parties were legendary wild. He'd hire a couple of aspiring actresses to come along and serve as hostesses for the evening. It was extra money, and a great way to do some networking. Nobody really knew for sure what went on at these soirees, though. To protect Scott's reputation, neither the guests nor the girls talked about them. But there were rumors, stories of naked starlets waiting hand and foot on Hollywood bigshots, willing to do anything to land even a bit part in a movie. Nicola's heart skipped at the thought. Since arriving in Hollywood from Melbourne, she'd experienced the hedonism of the town. Every adventure brought her one step closer to her goal of stardom, and gave her pleasures she'd never known before. "And just what would be expected of me?" she asked, coyly.
Scott laughed. "Oh, nothing much. You'll be serving the guests. Food, drinks... that sort of thing."
Nicola could almost hear the inverted commas around 'that sort of thing'. "Wow, I'm so glad you thought of me. I'd love to be a hostess at your party," she replied.
"OK, sweetheart, it's 8 o'clock Saturday night. I'll send a car to pick you up. Wear your sexiest evening gown, and be prepared for the most fun you've ever had."
Nicola thanked Scott again, and put the phone down. A Hollywood party hostess! She thought of the doors this would open for her. And just imagine what goes on in one of those things! Nicola shivered with delight. Or maybe she was shivering because she was still wet and naked?
At almost seemed like Saturday would never come. Nicola hadn't been this excited since she was a little girl, waiting for Christmas morning. She went shopping to pick out just the right dress to wear. She settled on a slinky, low-cut red dress that clung to her body. Nicola also decided upon matching red panties as well, though no bra. The short skirt showed off her gorgeous tanned legs, while the plunging neckline precluded anything from being worn underneath, presenting Nicola's juicy breasts for all to see. As she got dressed, Nicola realised that if she bent over too much, she'd be in grave danger of popping out. Given that she was going to be serving drinks, there was a pretty good chance she'd be putting on a show for her guests. Oh well, Nicola thought with a naughty smirk. As Jennifer Aniston once said, who cares, I've got great boobs.
Saturday night found Nicola dressed in her new gown, being carried through the city in the limo Scott had sent for her. It was a typically cool, dry LA evening, and as Nicola looked out the tinted windows with night gathering, she felt like a movie star on her way to a premier. She closed her eyes, indulging in her favourite fantasy- being chauffeur driven to the Chinese Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard, wearing nothing but a fur coat, diamonds, and a great big smile.
They stopped outside Plaza Hotel. The driver stepped out and opened to door for Nicola. A little lost in her movie-star fantasy, Nicola stepped out, imagining a red carpet lay at her feet, surrounded by dozens of photographers calling her name. She smiled at them, blowing them imaginary kisses. The doorman looked her up with a leer. Nicola flashed the elderly gent her warmest smile as she breezed inside.
It wasn't a fantasy that, as she crossed the lobby, everyone turned to look at her. Everyone wanted to see who this supermodel brunette was, with the slim, tanned body packed into the tiny red dress. Every step made Nicola's boobs jiggle delightfully within the confines of her red dress. Nicola felt them undressing her with her eyes, and gave a proud toss of her hair as she strode past them and into the elevator. The operator, a young black man, eyed her up with a smirk, enjoying the view. "The penthouse suite, please," Nicola said. Still grinning, he replied, "Yes ma'am," and punched up the top floor. On the ride up, Nicola again felt butterflies in her stomach. A little anxious, she ran her fingers down the exposed part of her cleavage. What would it be like? What debauchery awaited her? Nicola could hardly wait to find out.
Scott Keen met her at the door. He was a devastatingly handsome man in his late 20s, with brown hair, blue eyes, and a smile that made Nicola want to drop her knickers on the spot. In her career, Nicola was often required to fuck unattractive men, but Scott Keen was one man she was more than happy to oblige. They kissed passionately, Scott slipping his tongue inside Nicola's mouth and swirling it around her own. He slid his hands down her waist to her ass, and gently massaged each cheek. Nicola moaned into his mouth, and pulled his thigh against her crotch. They continued to make out for a little longer, Nicola rubbing her pussy against his leg. Finally they broke apart.
"God, Knickers," Scott breathed, "you're sure horny tonight."
"Oooh, yes," she whispered, running her hands across his chest. Scott laughed in reply. "Come on in and meet your co-hostesses." Scott took her by the arm and led her into the suite. "Knickers, meet Angel and Dizzy."
Nicola's face fell. Angela "Angel" Monroe. The slim, raven-haired beauty eyed Nicola up with a contemptuous smirk. They'd met before, been up for some of the same parts, and had quickly become bitter rivals. To have her here too, on what was to be the greatest night of her career, was a terrible blow. Nicola forced a smile, trying to be polite. Angela was dressed in a jet-black minidress, slit so high on the leg that most of that side of her body was bare. She had a fairly small bust, so her short skirt was designed to accent her creamy thighs, and perhaps a flash of something more.
The other girl Nicola barely knew. Her name was Darci "Dizzy" Clay, a bubbly blonde with (by all accounts real) 44-inch boobs. She was dressed in a strapless white gown that showed off generous amounts of her upper chest. Nicola had only ever seen her once, at a barbecue, dressed in a tight, beer-soaked t-shirt that read "I wish these were brains", giggling inanely as two guys stuffed hotdog weiners down the front of her cut-off denim shorts.
Nicola was appalled to see Angela here, but was determined not to let is spoil her night. She greeted both her fellow hostesses, careful not to betray the animosity she felt for Angela. She had to admit, despite her icy exterior, Angela was very, very hot. Her chest was smaller than Nicola's, but she was a little taller and slimmer. If their last encounter was anything to go by, Angela was just as willing as Nicola to do whatever it took to advance her career.
"OK, girls," said Scott, "Our guests will be here soon, so let's finish getting everything ready."
In a low voice, Angela hissed to Nicola, "I saw you dry humping Scott's leg. You were like a bitch in heat. If you're going to act like that tonight, just stay away from me, slut."
Nicola blushed, and tried to think of a witty comeback. Unfortunately, "Shut up!" in a whiney voice was the best she could manage.
