Around The World In 80 Babes Chapter 21 – Review My Kisses

Around the World in 80 Babes

by: TRL

Chapter 21: Review My Kisses

Disclaimer: The Following is a complete work of
fiction. It’s a shame that it’s a work of fiction,
because it’s really hot. However, it IS fiction, and
it should be treated as such. If you are under the
legal age to read these things in your area, you’re
out of luck. If you’re opposed to sex in any form,
you’re crazy. If you don’t find LeAnn Rimes
Attractive, you’re Blind AND crazy. If none of the
above qualifies to you, go ahead and read.

May 16th, 2005

The New York Radisson

New York, NY, USA

“Wow,
nice digs boss,” Tom Lambert said as he entered the penthouse suite of the New York Radisson hotel, his laptop computer under one arm and a bag of donuts in the other.

“Glad you like them,” Richard Stall said, motioning his computer expert/chemist towards the coffee table in the middle of the room. There sat Marissa Call and Michael Burke, both looking barely awake this early in the morning, and neither one looking particularly happy to be awake.

“So, now that we’re all here,” Burke spoke up, “Care to tell us why, Boss?”

“Absolutely,” Stall said, smiling. “But first,” he said, holding out his hand to Lambert. “Breakfast.”

“Donuts,” Lambert said, handing the bag to Stall. “Hope everyone likes Krispe Kremes.”

“Never had one before,” Stall said, pulling out one of the sugar coated monsters.

“You clearly aren’t from NYC,” Marissa said, digging in on one.

“I also brought some entertainment,” Lambert said.

“Entertainment?” Stall asked.

“The other day someone moved into the hotel room we vacated from the Hilton. My people haven’t had a chance to remove the cameras yet, and so when they got busy last night, I got it on tape.”

“Oh, random porn,” Marissa said. “That’s quite a bit different for us.”

“Not so random,” Lambert said, opening up his laptop. “You forget you guys had the penthouse suite. Random nobodies need not apply.”

“Who moved in?” Stall asked.

“LeAnn Rimes.”

“You’re kidding,” Burke said. In response, Lambert hit a button on his laptop, and suddenly the image of country superstar LeAnn Rimes shedding her clothes in the bathroom appeared before the crowd.

“She had sex?” Stall asked.

“Actually, she masturbates in the shower – WITH the shower head – and then engages in what sounds like phone sex with her husband in the middle of the night.”

“Horny girl,” Marissa commented around bites of donut. Sure enough, right there on the screen, LeAnn Rimes had stepped into the shower and was currently rubbing her breasts under the hot water. Considering she hadn’t even lathered up yet, it was clear that she wasn’t ready to stop being dirty just yet.

“Fantastic, Lambert. Just fantastic,” Stall said. “What does that bring our total up to now?”

“Counting Miss Rimes here, we’re up to Thirty-One, with Forty-Nine to go.”

“Hmmm. And we’re halfway to June. We need to pick things up a bit,” Stall muttered. On the screen, LeAnn had soaked her body, and was now eagerly finger-fucking herself, one hand against the wall acting as support. From the way her face was contorting, it was clear she was enjoying herself.

“So is this why we’re here,” Burke asked. “To take a count and realize we need to get moving on getting these tapes?”

“Not entirely,” Stall said. “Sit down, Lambert. We need to review what we’ve got.”

“Sure,” Lambert said, not taking his eyes off the screen as LeAnn inserted a second finger into her slit.

“All right, as you all know, I am a member of what’s called the Timekeeper’s Club. While the club started out as a rather private organization determined to set the political ways of England in the early days of the House of Commons, it has in the last century or so, become little more than an ultra-exclusive organization for 25 of the top 100 most wealthy individuals in England, if not the world. And, naturally as any group of extremely wealthy men are like to do when relaxing, our intentions turned towards sex. In my father’s day, the club was little more than an extremely expensive gentlemen’s club. As it has evolved, we moved away from just having sex at the club to discussing it, exploring it, and recording it. For the last twenty years, pictures of us having sex with women have been the order of the day. Famous women are given more prominence, especially when we pick our leadership for the year, but any set of tits will do.

“I,” Stall went on, “Am in the process of trying to change things so that video will replace photographs in our meetings. I do this in part to spice things up, but I do have two ulterior motives. The first is that I desire the rank of Staff-Holder – essentially the leader of the Timekeeper’s Club. Currently, the leader is a man named William Neal, a man I detest thoroughly, and with good reason.”

Burke nodded, munching on his second donut. Marissa paid more attention, not having been around for the first part of this grand scheme. Lambert’s eyes were glued to the screen, where LeAnn Rimes was taking the removable showerhead off and positioning the hot water flow on to her tits. That shot made even Stall stop for just a second or two, until the magical sight of LeAnn’s impressive breasts being beaten red by streams of hot water pulsating over her nipples broke.

“The other reason,” Stall said, getting back on topic, “Is that I made a bet with the members of the club – if I win, they all give me one million pounds, with Mr. Neal giving me two million as club leader. Should I loose, though, I owe every member of the club twice what they would’ve paid me, bringing my losses for the year up to a staggering fifty million pounds, not counting the business expenses I’ve already accrued. All I need to do is bring footage of eighty hot female celebs having sex or masturbating to the club before the end of the year.”

“Fifty Million Pounds,” Marissa said, sounding impressed. “Damn, boss, if you can afford to bet that, can I get a loan?”

“Funny,” Stall said. “Part of the problem with this bet is that I need to travel the world to pull this off. I need women from all six continents, both in origin and in actual location. In other words, I can fuck an Asian woman here in America, but I do need to fuck someone somewhere on the Asian continent.”

“Nothing like splitting hairs there, huh boss?” Burke said.

“So far, we’ve had women in Europe, Africa, and North America,” Stall said.

“Halfway there in that regard anyway,” Lambert said, watching intently as LeAnn Rimes lowered her shower spray onto her pussy, and bucking her hips as the water cascaded over her clit.

“So, let’s move on to another continent,” Marissa said. “We’ve been here in New York for quite a while now – especially considering that month you lost dealing with the South African authorities.”

Stall frowned at that. Shortly after the group had left South Africa, where they’d been involved in some serious trouble, the South African government had called Stall back, keeping him and his lawyers more or less occupied for the entire month of April. It had given Lambert and his crew time to bug several New York based celebrities houses and bedrooms, but for the most part, those hadn’t started paying off until the start of May.

“Let’s rewind a minute here,” Burke said. “Maybe we can work out where we’re going wrong.”

“Are we going wrong?” Lambert asked, motioning towards the screen. LeAnn was clearly in the throws of orgasm as her knees wobbled, the shower spray pulsating over her clit endlessly. The young blonde singer grabbed the edge of the shower with her free hand as ultimate pleasure washed over her body. “I mean, look at this – we’re getting the tapes. We’re getting the job done.”

“But what about our other problems?” Burke said. “Someone’s trying to kill the Boss here.”

“Again, we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Stall said. “Thanks indeed to Lambert’s cameras and his uncanny female aphrodisiac, we’ve been able to nab shots of, what, Thirty-One women engaging in sex, either with myself, Marissa, Michael, their significant others, or just masturbating. And while this is certainly what we’re trying to do, we’re almost halfway through the year, and we’re far from halfway through the number of celebs we need.

“So, what can we do?” Marissa asked. “We’re moving as fast as we can.”

“Perhaps, and perhaps not,” Stall said. “Lambert, any luck increasing the number of places you can record at the same time?”

“None at all,” Lambert said. “I could string together another half dozen hard drives, but considering how little luck we’ve had with these taps, I’m thinking it’s not worth the extra effort. We’ve gotten a lot more from just you and Marissa than we have from the room taps.”

“Maybe we’re just not in the right place,” Marissa said. “I mean, we’ve got three more continents to go, right? Asia, Australia, and South America?”

“That’s them,” Stall said.

“Why don’t we go to those continents and start working them?”

“We will, and soon. In fact, I’ve got business in Colombia next month. I think a South American vacation may be on order then.”

“So what do we do between now and then?” Lambert asked.

“Perhaps Marissa is right,” Stall said. “Maybe we’re in the wrong place. New York is filled with beautiful women, but we may have tapped it out. We need another location, somewhere we haven’t been yet.”

“Why not L.A.?” Burke asked. “I mean, if we’re looking for celebs, why not go right to the hub? Hollywood’s got to be over-loaded with hot babes looking for a fuck.”

“I’m saving Los Angeles for later,” Stall said, matter-of-factly. “For exactly the reasons you mentioned – best to save the sure-bet stuff incase we get desperate.”

“What do we consider desperate?” Marissa asked. “I mean, are we going to be fucking D-List celebrities before we’re done?”

Burke laughed. “You get to seduce Kathy Griffin,” he said, pointing at Marissa.

“Fine,” Marissa said, throwing her napkin at him, “But you’re stuck screwing Omarosa.”

“Ouch,” Burke said, feigning pain in his chest. “If we’re that desperate, I think I’d rather just help the boss pay off his bet.”

“Carefully, Burke,” Stall said. “I might just hold you to that.” Stall sighed, and sank into his chair. “I honestly hope it doesn’t come to that, Marissa, but it might. You could argue we’ve already done some rather low-level women.”

“Yeah, but at least Jordan’s hot,” Burke put in. “If we move into the ‘famous for being ugly’ category, I want out.”

“You and me both,” Stall replied. “Should it come to that, we’ll go back to England – at least our D-List female celebrities have hot bodies and are willing to get naked.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Marissa said. “But we still haven’t covered the guys who’re a trying to kill you, boss.”

“No, we haven’t,” Stall agreed. “But seeing as how we know next to nothing about them, what more can we do?”

“I’ve put out some feelers with my contacts,” Lambert said as he fiddled with his laptop. “No news yet, but as soon as I know who they are, you’ll be the first to know, Boss.”

“Meanwhile, I suggest we stay on our toes,” Stall said. “And Burke? Keep your gun on you always from now on.”

“Already been doing that,” Burke said. “But I still suggest we get the hell out of NYC – the guy was willing to off you in a hotel lobby, Boss. Next he’ll start trying to blow up your limo.”

“Glad I’m not the limo driver,” Lambert muttered. Burke chucked a napkin at him in response.

“Well, that’s two good reasons to leave New York. Now, where do we go next?” Stall asked.

“Well, if we’re eventually going to be going to South America next,” Marissa said, “Maybe we should head that way, and make a stop somewhere before we leave the country.”

“You have a suggestion?” Burke asked.

“Well, it’s almost summer time here in the States, and when the weather’s nice, people hit the beach in very little clothing,” she said, smiling. “Why not head to the place with the most warm weather and the least clothing to take off?”

“Where are you going with this?” Stall asked.

Marissa smiled. “I’m surprised at you, Boss. I thought a man with the money you have would know that all the celebrities are flocking to Miami this time of year.”

Stall smiled. “Miami. It’s perfect.”

“Lost of sun, lots of skin, lots of alcohol,” Burke said, smiling.

“And Marissa’s right,” Lambert said over his shoulder. “More and more celebrities are making Miami at least a vacation spot of choice, if not out-right home.”

“We could stay there for a week or two,” Stall said, mulling the idea over. “And then move on towards Colombia and Brazil. It’s perfect.”

“I’ll pack my tiniest bikini,” Marissa said.

“You have a bikini that’s not tiny?” Burke asked.

“Nope, they’re all small,” Marissa said, standing up. “But I have one that literally just covers what legally needs to be covered. In Miami, it’ll probably be considered conservative, but I’ll make due.” With that, she left the room.

“Lambert,” Stall said. “Can you get signals from Miami here in the New York Pit?”

“Oh, sure,” Lambert said, still fiddling with the laptop. “I can get everything on the East Coast of the U.S. without an issue. If we head to L.A., I’ll need time to set up another Pit there.”

“We won’t be going to L.A. any time soon,” Stall promised him. “When you get the chance, book the tickets to Miami for the rest of us. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here.”

“No prob,” Lambert said. “I figured I’d be here a while anyway – Aha!”

“Aha what?” Burke asked.

“I found the rest of the LeAnn Rimes tape. Care to watch?”

“Sure,” Burke said.

“This part’s got sound, though we won’t be able to hear what her husband’s saying on the other end of the line.”

“Too bad,” Stall said. “But I suspect we’ll make due.” Lambert pressed play, and the three men sat around the laptop to watch.

“I miss you, too,” LeAnn said into the phone. She was lying on the bed – the very same one Stall had spent a number of nights on, he realized, before he’d left the room after the last abortive attempt on his life. She wore a pink nighty that was cut low – dramatically low, in fact, exposing skin between her breasts and almost all the way down to her belly-button. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and she held the phone in one hand and a book in the other. Clearly, she was expecting to be done with this phone conversation soon.

“No, I’m fine. Been a long day,” LeAnn went on. “I’m not looking forward to the meeting tomorrow.”

“How long before we get to the good stuff?” Burke asked.

“Hang on,” Lambert said, fast-forwarding a bit. He stopped it mere seconds later. The only difference Stall could see at this point was the LeAnn had put the book down.

“What am I wearing?” LeAnn asked the phone, smiling. “Well, I’m wearing that pink nighty you got me last year – yes, your favorite. No, nothing under it – it’s too hot to sleep with panties on tonight. Yes, the room has air-conditioning, but- You what?” LeAnn giggled, shifting on the bed slightly, the edge of her nighty riding up on her legs a bit.

“You want to touch me where?” LeAnn gasped playfully a second later. “I don’t know, I mean, I was just going to go to bed. Your hand is where?” Suddenly, LeAnn’s nipples became very evident in her nighty. She giggled again. “I’m not saying that. I’m not. I don’t care if I’ve done it at home, I’m not at home-. Fine, fine, I’ll say it.

“I want to suck your balls,” LeAnn said huskily into the phone. “Oh, yeah, baby, you like that? You like it when I suck your balls? You like it when I twist my tongue around them. And you like it when I kiss the head of your cock, right? Yeah, I’m doing that right now. You like that, don’t you? You want me to do it again? I knew you would.” At that, LeAnn made an exaggerated kissing sound into the phone.

She shifted again on the bed, then sat up a bit, smiling. With one hand, she pulled down one side of her nighty, exposing one perfect tit. “Yeah,” She said into the phone as she switched hands. “Yeah, I’ve got my tit out for you. You want to suck it? You want to kiss my tit, do you? You want to suck my titties for a while?” She pulled down the other shoulder strap, exposing the other wonderful breast. “They’re both out for you now, baby, what are you going to do?”

LeAnn cooed as she listened to whatever her husband’s response was, and suddenly, her free hand was on her right nipple, stroking and teasing it while listening to the phone. Her legs started shifting in response, and she cooed again, clearly enjoying what she was hearing.

“Oh, you want me to suck your cock?” LeAnn asked suddenly. “Well, you did suck my titties. Lay back and let me taste you, baby.” With that, LeAnn took her thumb and sucked it into her mouth loudly. She sucked on it for several brief moments, before pulling it out, making sure to smack her lips as she did so. “Oh, yeah, baby,” she said. “You’re so BIG! I love sucking on your giant cock.”

“Who knew she was such a little slut,” Burke said.

“I think I’m in love,” Lambert said, staring at the screen.

“Hush,” Stall said.

“What’s the matter, baby?” LeAnn said as she withdrew her thumb. “Am I not swallowing your rock hard cock fast enough for you?” LeAnn listened for a long moment before giggling again. “Oh, I see. You want to fuck me. Who said I want to fuck you? No, I never did. Oh, I’m all wet. I’m gushing, baby. I’m ready to burst.” As she spoke, LeAnn lifted up the bottom of her nighty, exposing her neatly-trimmed crotch.

“You want to fuck me, baby?” LeAnn asked, her free fingers finding her slit and slowly circling it. “You really want to fuck me? Tell me how bad you want to fuck me. Tell me how hot I’m making you. How much you want to slide yourself into my hot, wet cunt. Tell me how you want it. Tell me.”

As she spoke, LeAnn’s fingers started working herself over faster and faster, clearly getting into the spirit of things now.

“That’s it, say it. Say you want to fuck me! C’mon, say it! Oh, yeah, baby, fuck me! Fuck me hard and nasty. Stick it in me and fuck me like you mean it!”

“Damn, girl’s got a dirty mind alright,” Burke said, leaning forward to watch as LeAnn started jabbing three fingers in and out of her cunt at a rapid pace. This time, Stall didn’t even bother to tell him to shut up.

“Oooh, baby, you’re so big! You’re filling me up so good,” LeAnn said, moaning slightly as she started to rub her thumb over her clit. “I love the feeling of your big, hard cock inside me. Am I tight enough for you? Am I wet enough? Tell me I’m wet enough for you. Fuck, yeah, I’m the best. I’m the best you’ve ever had. I’m the best little slut you’re ever going to have.”

Suddenly, LeAnn went rigid, clearly hitting a nerve that felt particularly good.

“Oh, you’re making me so wet. Am I coating your thick cock with enough juice, baby? Is my pussy tight enough for your hard rod? Oh, you’re fucking me deep are you baby? Oh, yeah, you’re in me so deep! Fuck me, baby, fuck me hard!”

As Stall, Lambert, and Burke watched, LeAnn’s fingers became a blur as they worked their way in and out of her snatch – which was now coated with her girl cum. A large wet spot had developed on the bed just below her crotch, and the fingers clutching the phone had turned white, she was gripping it so tightly.
“Amazing,” Stall whispered.

LeAnn was clearly heading towards climax fast now, half her hand now buried deep within her folds, and her eyes screwed shut.

“Fuck me baby,” she moaned into the phone. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmeeeee-”

Suddenly, LeAnn went rigid, her entire body shaking in delight. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, and her toes curled into the sheets, nearly ripping them.

She lay there in the aftermath of orgasm for several long moments, her naked breasts heaving and her pussy slowly dripping. She still clutched the phone in her hand, though her other hand had finally collapsed on the bed beside her, her fingers shining in the light from above. For a long moment, Stall wondered if she’d hung up on her husband, until she stirred and smiled.

“Mmmm,” LeAnn moaned. “ That was wonderful baby. Did you cum for me?” she asked. “Did you shoot your load all over the place? You did? Was it a big load? Oooh, I wish I was there, baby, I’d lick it off you. You were fantastic. Yes, I love you, too. I’ll be back in town next week. Will I call you again? Maybe if you’re good…”

The conversation, which had taken a decidedly unsexy feel, droned on for a bit.

“I think that’s all we’re going to get today,” Lambert said, finally, breaking the silence in the room.

“It’s more than enough,” Stall said. “Get it edited together and get it sent to the Timekeeper’s Club. I’m certain this one will be a hit.”

“How could it not be?” Burke asked. “I mean, I don’t even like country music and I’m ready to give this girl a Grammy for best voice.”

“Is that an actual category at the Grammys?” Lambert asked.

“I don’t think so,” Stall said.

“Too bad there isn’t best Phone Sex Recording,” Burke said. “LeAnn here would win hands down.”

“Hands down?” Lambert said. “Is that supposed to be a pun?”

“Uh, no,” Burke admitted. “Though I guess it makes sense somehow…”

“Lambert, go get our tickets for Miami,” Stall said. “Burke, go start packing. I need to make some business phone calls before we leave.”

“Right, Boss,” Burke and Lambert said together. They left the room, Lambert taking the laptop with him. Stall shook his head. Those two were best kept apart.

* * *

May 16th, 2005

The Mansion of William Neal

Outside London, England

“Explain to me again, Blackbird, how exactly your agents are going to kill Richard Stall?” William Neal asked, giving a frosty look towards his visitor. “Was it death through large hotel bills, or merely aggravated old age?”

“I understand your ire, William,” Blackbird replied. “But I remind you that you gave my people a time limit of right up until next year. Last I saw, we weren’t even halfway through 2005. It’s a long time until the end of December.”

“Don’t cut hairs with me, Blackbird,” Neal snapped. “You’ve had two chances to eliminate Stall already, and fucked up both bloody times!” Blackbird didn’t bother to mention that his crew had missed Stall in Africa by mere hours, technically making it three times they could’ve killed him. But Neal didn’t need to know that little tidbit of information.

“As you yourself said, Mr. Stall is extraordinarily lucky.”

“Bullshit,” Neal said. “How the fuck long does it take to set up a sniper and kill someone?”

“Much longer when the man has gone to ground,” Blackbird said. “My people will find him.”

“The next time they find him, blood better be spilt.”

“I’m certain it will be,” Blackbird said, remaining calm. He did, after all, have a sniper trained on Neal’s head – just in case…

“I’m paying you good money, Blackbird,” Neal muttered. “I want results.”

“You’ll have them,” Blackbird said. “But for now, how about a little information?”

“Information?” Neal asked.

“I know what Stall’s doing in his little ‘round-the-world jaunt.”

“I know what he’s doing,” Neal spat. “That bloody bastard is ruining my life, is what he’s doing!”

Blackbird raised an eyebrow at that. “You know what he’s doing?”

“What the hell did I just say?” Neal shot back. “I know all about Richard Stall and all his dirty secrets! You just kill him and let me worry about the details of his life.”

When Blackbird left Neal’s estate some fifteen minutes later, he found himself wondering just how much Neal knew about Richard Stall and his videotape activities. Neal might have been bluffing, or he might have thought he actually knew, but Blackbird suspected Neal really did know.

So what was the connection between Richard Stall’s growing cache of celebrity porn, and William Neal’s death mark on Stall’s head. There was a mystery here, and Blackbird intended to find out just what it was.

Picking up his phone, he hit a specific speed dial and got an nearly instant answer. “Slide,” Blackbird said into the phone without preamble. “I need you to do some hacking. There’ll be a nice retainer in it for you…”

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