Disclaimer: This story is purely a fantasy, and does not represent the celebrities involved. Do not try this at home, you WILL end up in jail. If you are under 18, stop reading NOW.
Please send any feedback or suggestions to firstname.lastname@example.org
I’ve fudged a few aspects of the lovely Mylene’s career and condition for the sake of the fantasy. Hopefully the story justifies these minor liberties!
As she glided down the red carpet, Mylene Klass wished she hadn’t agreed to come along. However, the classical music industry had given her the chance to restart her career after the reality TV show-formed band Hear’Say had predictably tanked. It had allowed her to reinvent herself, leading to her current successful career as a model and general media personality, making her very wealthy. So when an old friend from EMI had asked her to turn up and add a bit of glamour to a drab awards show, she had felt obliged to, despite now being 8 months pregnant.
It wasn’t her impressive bump that made her feel awkward – she, quite understandably, felt she looked fantastic even at this stage of her pregnancy. Her breasts were bothering her a bit – Mylene’s black designer dress had only been fitted at the start of the week, but her already impressive chest felt like it had gone up another cup size in the intervening days. It felt like her dress would explode from the pressure her milk-filled mammaries were putting it under. She smiled to herself as cameras flashed at the entrance to the ceremony – Mylene had refused various discrete six-figure offers to bare her hormone-boosted tits for various magazines, it would be ironic if they popped out now.
However, they weren’t the real problem. The real problem was between her legs. Mylene had a very high sex drive most of the time, but during pregnancy she had the appetite of a fourteen year old boy. This generally wasn’t a problem as her husband was usually around and more than happy to pleasure her, but he had been away for nearly a fortnight on family business with her daughter. Mylene hadn’t masturbated since they’d been together, she always felt like it was cheating somehow. Instead she saved up her horniness for a good hard fucking. Too late she was realising she should have relieved her frustrations in the privacy of her home before attending the ceremony, but it was too late now and her pussy felt like an inferno. Fuck loyalty, she thought, as soon as I’m home I’m going to stuff everything I can lay my hands on up myself.
As an usher led her towards her seat at the ceremony, she wished she hadn’t thought about it at all. She could feel herself becoming more aroused by the second. The more she tried to think of something other than her desperately-needed release, the more she was unable to think of anything else. A parade of phallic objects she knew were waiting for her pleasure paraded before her eyes. Mylene didn’t own a dildo, but she could improvise. The cucumber in the fridge. The shampoo bottle next to the bath. The TV remote in the living room. The rounded, ornate post of her expensive bed. Even the objects on the table seemed to be taunting her – fat, red candles were tantalisingly close. Mylene’s eyes rested on a magnum of champagne in a bucket of ice on the middle of the table. She envisioned herself lying on the carpet, legs spread and dress hitched up as she crammed the bottle mercilessly into her greedy, aching cunt while her high-class fellow guests looked on in shock. More realistic was the cutlery – it all had thick, round metal handles. The fattest ends were close to an inch thick, with three inches of cool, engraved metal silver. She felt a bead of juice escape from between her burning lips and dribble into her panties.
Mylene glanced around furtively. As a pregnant woman, she had been lead straight into the auditorium so she could take the weight off her feet. Aside from a few waiters and waitresses buzzing around tables closer to the stage she was alone, the rest of the guests still milling in the foyer. She grabbed one of the spoons, whipped it under the table and opened her legs a little. She wasn’t going to have a wank, just slip the thing in The smell of bubbling hot cunt – her bubbling hot cunt – wafted up to her nostrils. She slipped the now damp crotch of her panties to one side, shuffled her bum forward a few inches for a better angle and slid the handle home. With great disappointment she could barely feel it. Then she heard voices as other guests began to filter in. Mylene was suddenly overcome with panic – what the Hell was she doing, sitting here in the middle of the Classic FM Annual Awards Dinner with a spoon in her cunt? If she took it out, someone would surely notice the smell even if they didn’t notice the thick white pussy-cream she knew would be all over the handle. She clamped her legs shut as people began to fill the table she was sitting at. They introduced themselves, but she didn’t really take it all in. She was torn between embarrassment and sexual desire. Every man she saw made her imagine what his cock would feel like in place of the spoon. Every woman made her imagine what their fists would be like inside her. Mylene generally had little attraction to other females, aside from a couple of mutual exploration sessions with one of her school-friends when she was 13. After a few nervous greetings and short answers, the others on the table basically ignored her. They were a snobby bunch in the industry, and having correctly deduced that Mylene had largely been invited to ensure a bit more media coverage had little time for her. If the knocked-up cow didn’t want to make small talk, fine, they weren’t going to bother. Mylene was deeply grateful that most of them weren’t paying attention.
After what felt like an eternity, the ceremony finally began. Mylene desperately tried to concentrate on the compère and award winners were saying, but all she could think of was the white heat in her crotch. At least the show on the stage meant her companions weren’t even looking at her – she felt like she had “I have a spoon in my vagina” tattooed on her forehead. Her cheeks reached the same temperature as her desperate, oozing cunt when a beautiful black waitress had come to replenish the champagne, her pretty nose wrinkling for a brief but unmistakable second as she leant past Mylene to take the empty bottle. Mylene herself had stuck to water, both for the health of her unborn child and to avoid her mind becoming even more clouded. She had to face it – this wasn’t going to go away. Leaving an awards ceremony partway through was seriously frowned upon, but Mylene was a pregnant woman and could easily contrive a desperate need for the toilet. Clenching her cunt muscles around the spoon handle as best she could, with some effort she lifted her expectant body from the seat. One of the women on the table glanced around, but only for long enough to glance down her nose at the stunning model and pointedly look back to the raconteur on stage banging on about Vivaldi.
She staggered towards the foyer and the ladies’ room, her journey made agonisingly slow by the twin burdens of her bloated belly and the effort to keep the spoon held firmly inside her pussy. Mylene also made it, but the black waitress intercepted her on foyer carpet.
“Are you feeling okay, Ms. Klass?” The girl asked.
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” Mylene smiled. The girl really was stunning. “The call of nature can’t be ignored in my condition.”
Her concentration slipped, and so did the spoon. Her eyes flashed wide in horror as she felt the textured metal slide out of her soaking hole, rubbing her inflamed lips in a tantalising, taunting fashion as it went. Her inflamed vagina hung open like a split melon, saturating her thin panties with her arousal. It landed softly and silently on the thick carpet, hidden under the billowing black dress. She recovered her composure, and realised the least ostentatious thing to do was to just carry on to the toilet.
“Excuse me.” She smiled and carried on, not daring to look back and see whether the girl would notice her jilted silver lover.
It was another agonising minute before she reached the women’s toilets. She staggered up and down the line of stalls, and happy that they were empty moved as fast as she could to the large disabled cubicle on the end. Lots of space, lots of space. Her cunt-cream was now coming out like a waterfall. Mylene lifted her dress, and with some effort and quickening breath managed to drop the things to her ankles. She dropped back carefully onto the lid of the closed toilet, spread her legs as wide as she could, reached around her belly and drove her hands into her sticky minge with abandon. Within seconds of her savage ministrations it felt like her orgasm was coming, but it stayed just out of reach. It felt good, but she just wasn’t getting herself off. She removed her cunt-smelling fingers from her crotch with a sucking noise and frustratedly emptied her handbag onto the floor. Lipstick? Too small. A fountain pen? Too small. Her mobile phone? Her husband had shown her a video of a girl inserting a phone in her cunt on the internet, but she really wasn’t sure it was safe, and besides, she was sure it was too small. And that was about it. Mylene’s desperation for sexual pleasure was reaching a fever pitch. She couldn’t think about anything else except getting off by any means necessary. Her eyes rested on the toilet brush next to the cistern. It was every bit as classy as the cutlery, a thick metal handle with a rounded tip, the brush itself hidden in a heavy base. She have it an experimental pull. The base was heavy and it needed a little strength to actually lift the brush clear. It was perfect, the answer to her prayers.
She dragged the thing into the centre of the spacious cubicle, stepping out of her drenched underwear and stood over the handle, her legs as wide apart as she could. Mylene’s pussy, now doing all her thinking, was already gaping in anticipation. Her breath short, she closed her eyes and carefully lowered herself down on the handle, biting her lip. The cold stainless steel was easily enveloped by her wanton cunt, giving her the penetration she needed. She squatted down until she felt the end of the handle hit the wall of her vagina. It wasn’t easy on her legs, but it was helping her pussy immensely. Summoning up all the strength she could she then raised herself until only an inch or so of the handle remained inside her. As Mylene had hoped, the brush didn’t come lose from the holder. Satisfied she had an idea of how much she could move up and down the handle without falling off or wrecking her cunt, she did the same again, but a little faster. Then a little faster again. Then a little faster again. Soon she was riding up and down on the toilet brush like a bronco rider, but still she just couldn’t cum. Mylene would have signed over her entire fortune to cum then and there. She would have loved for some thug to kick the door down and rape her. She would happily have been teleported to Brazil and let a horse fuck her. If there had been a fire extinguisher in the cubicle she’d have tried to insert it in herself. Urgently searching for something to tip her over the edge, she tore open the front of her designer dress as she moved up and down, pulling her stifling bra down to free her heaving tits and began pinching and mauling her erect nipples. This elicited a couple of trickles of milk, and felt fantastic, so she pinched them harder. Her white motherly liquid began squirting out in short slugs, staining the front of her dress, but she didn’t care. Still she couldn’t cum.
Then, the cubicle door swung open.
Standing there with an astonished look was the black waitress holding the master key to the cubicle. Mylene made quite a sight, impaled on a toilet brush, her dress torn and covered with flecks of milk, her pussy-cream beginning to pool at the base of the brush handle, a thin trickle of blood coming from the edge of her mouth where she’d bitten into her lip. She looked up at the waitress. Any embarrassment she felt was overridden by her desire.
“Are.. are… you okay?” The girl managed. She was stunning, early twenties by Mylene’s guess, her long black hair swept back in a professional pony tail, wearing black trousers and waistcoat, a white shirt and a purple tie.
“Please help me come…” Mylene begged. The girl might have ran out and told everyone, but right now it was a gamble Mylene was willing to take. Unbeknown to her, the girl had almost immediately followed her in silently after picking up the sticky spoon, locking the main door to the toilet and kneeling on the cold floor next to the cubicle, a hand down her panties as she listened to Mylene’s self abuse while smelling and sucking the spoon handle. Having cum herself, she had then became worried when she heard the tearing noise of Mylene ripping the dress. The waitress had hoped to open the door to find Mylene desperate for attention and begging her to help, but was still taken aback when it actually happened.
“Pleeeeease…” Mylene wailed pathetically. “You can do anything to me, I’ll pay anything, just help me come…”
The waitress licked her lips nervously, nodded and dropped to her knees in front of Mylene.
“I’ve locked the main door from the inside.” She said softly, and a little nervously. “No-one’s going to disturb us.”
Mylene nodded. She felt like an animal, but she didn’t care. The girl knelt down in front of her and fished in the pocket of her waistcoat.
“You dropped this.” The waitress said, producing the spoon growing in confidence as her fantasy came true. Mylene nodded again, helplessly. She was completely in the girl’s power.
“I’ll get you off, but I need to wet this a bit more first. I licked all your naughty juices off it already.” Mylene wished she could see past her bulging stomach as the girl’s thin black hand disappeared from her view and slid the spoon handle into her cunt alongside the brush handle. It was enough to fill her pussy, but she just about hand enough give in her pussy to resume fucking the toilet utensil. The girl then took her impressive left tit in both hands and began to bite and suck on the nipple, looking up at Mylene with her gorgeous wide brown eyes. After a couple of seconds, she recoiled and pulled away, Mylene’s white milk trickling down her ebony chin.
“Sorry… I can’t help it…” Mylene panted apologetically.
The girl wiped her chin with a finger and then sucked Mylene’s produce from it.
“No, no…” She said hurriedly. “It’s great, it’s really hot. I just wasn’t expecting it…”
Mylene laughed shortly as she fought for breath. “I’m at eight months… It… it happens. Please don’t stop, it feels so good, and there’s plenty where that came from.”
The girl didn’t need asking twice, and quickly returned to sucking on Mylene’s tits, alternating frantically. Mylene stroked her hair, purring for the girl to bite harder. The waitress’s hands once again disappeared from Mylene’s view and she sighed with disappointment as the spoon was removed from her sloppy minge. She felt the girl reach around behind her, and was about to protest that she’d never had anything in her rear entrance when her pouting anus easily took the slippery spoon handle inside. The extra stimulation felt great, the black girl fucking the thing gently in and out of her arsehole as while feasting on Mylene’s tits as she kept thrusting on the no longer cold brush handle. She was so close to the orgasm she needed, but her legs were killing her. She began to sob in frustration. The black girl stopped her ministrations immediately.
“Oh my God, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” She babbled.
“No, no…” Mylene replied, as soothingly as she could manage through her disappointment. “I’m just too big to keep this up. Oh God, I’m never going to get off.”
The waitress plucked the spoon from her arse. “Sit up on the toilet, Ms. Klass. I’ll get you there.” She leant across and have Mylene a milky French kiss.
Nodding, Mylene did as she was told, with some effort standing all the way back up, her cunt slurping with dissatisfaction as the handle came all the way out of her. She sat back on the toilet seat.
“Lift your legs up as far as you can.” The girl instructed. “I need to get at both your holes.”
Mylene nodded. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“Michelle, Ms. Klass. Now spread your legs and open your holes. Keep squeezing those big tits too, I want that milk squirting down on me while I’m working.” Mylene obeyed, though when she lifted her legs up both her red wanton pussy and her crinkled down arsehole were open already, aching to be filled. Because of her pregnant belly she couldn’t really see what the girl was doing, but she soon felt something big being pushed steadily into her cunt.
“What are you doing?” She asked between gasps. She had never felt so full, it was fantastic – her husband’s cock was going to feel like a pencil after this.
“It’s my hand, Ms Klass. Now milk those tits while I fist-fuck you.” Mylene did as she was told as the girl’s fist came to a brief rest before Michelle began gently twisting and flexing her hand inside her hole. She really wanted something in her arse to really make her feel packed, and just as she was about to ask she felt a finger violate her recently-virgin anus, sinking easily in up to the second knuckle and begin to wriggle around. Within seconds it was joined by another. Mylene began to buck against the double-penetration, groaning in pleasure and assaulting her own tits. Spats of milk were caught enthusiastically by Michelle when they got that far, though some just added to the messy ruin of her two thousand pound dress.
“You like that, Ms. Klass?” Michelle purred.
Mylene nodded and managed to groan “Uh… huh…” in affirmation.
“Other white girls like big black guys with big black cocks, but you prefer having a little black girl fisting and fingering your dirty holes, don’t you?”
Mylene nodded. She was sweating heavily now.
“Ms. Klass, you should see what I can see…” Michelle continued. “My little black hand’s been swallowed up to the wrist by your greedy white pussy, and your arsehole can’t get enough of my fingers…”
The dirty talk was finally enough to tip Mylene over the edge, and her hips began to rock violently as her long-awaited orgasm rocked through her body. Her vaginal muscles contracted spasmodically on Michelle’s hand, her arsehole clamping around the girl’s fingers like a vice as she let out a long, low primal moan of satisfaction. After a minute she began to regain some sort of control of her lower body, allowing Michelle to remove her digits. The girl began lustily sucking on both sets of fingers before descending on Mylene’s splayed minge to lick up the copious juices pouring out now Michelle’s fist was no longer blocking them. Mylene threw her head back against the wall, finally feeling relieved. She relaxed too much, however, and a little arc of golden urine sprang from her distended cunt, splashing on Michelle’s dark face. She jolted forwards and was about to apologise when Michelle positioned herself with her mouth open inches from Mylene’s pussy.
“Please don’t stop.” She asked quietly. “I drank your milk and a I drank your pussy juice, please let me drink your piss, Ms. Klass.”
Why not? Mylene thought. She leant back and relaxed her bladder. Once again she was denied the sight of the black beauty’s depravity, but she could hear her liquid gold splashing into the girl’s mouth as she swallowed thirstily. Her flow exhausted, she leant back towards Michelle’s glistening face. As her flow had diminished it had splashed down the girl’s chest, staining her shirt yellow, though Michelle didn’t seem to mind. Michelle stood and met her with another kiss, flavoured with the taste of Mylene’s cunt, arse, urine and milk. The taste made her feel horny all over again.
There was a bang at the door.
“Come on,” said Michelle, “We’ll go out the fire exit and I’ll give you a lift home. You can tell the press you felt sick. I’ll probably get the sack, but fuck it, it was worth it.”
Mylene smiled. “I can give you a job, I’ve got a couple of things that need doing around the house.”
Michelle raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Like what?”
“Well, for a start I need someone to shove a shampoo bottle up my arse while I fuck myself with a cucumber whenever my husband’s not around.”
“Oh yeh?” Said Michelle, playfully. “What’s the pay like?”
“Twice whatever they’re paying you here, plus all the pussy you can eat and all milk and piss you can drink.”
“Sounds fair enough to me.”
The banging at the door intensified. It sounded like someone was trying to batter it down. Mylene took Michelle’s sticky hand in her own messy palm and the pair walked unsteadily through the fire exit into the car park in their wrecked, stained clothes as they began to plan what they were going to do when they got back to Mylene’s house. The night was young, after all.