Around The World In 80 Babes – Chapter 22: Home Run In Miami

Around the World in 80 Babes

by: TRL

Chapter 22: Home Run in Miami

Jennie Finch – MF, Voyeur

Warning: Don’t read if you don’t like Sex, aren’t old
enough to know what it is yet, or for some strange
reason, think video taping celebs having sex without
their permission for the purpose of winning a 25
Million Pound bet is wrong. If none of that applies to
you, then read on…

May 20th, 2005

Miami International Airport

Miami, Florida, USA

“Wow,” Marissa Call said as she exited the plane and descended down the ramp onto the tarmac. “When they said it would be hot
here, they weren’t kidding.”

Michael Burke followed her off the plane, carrying his luggage and some of hers as well. And these were just the carry-ons. “You’re hot? You’re barely wearing anything – how can you be hot?”

“When you look as good as I do, you’re always hot,” Marissa shot back at him, playfully swatting her boy-short covered ass.

“All right you two, try and wait until we’re either at the hotel or you’ve got the chance to let loose with a celeb,” Richard Stall said as he followed his two employees off the plane. He had to admit that he felt warm in his business suit. Being from England, the hot Miami weather was going to tax him more than he thought it would. He’d have to remember to keep a bottle of water on him at all times. It wouldn’t pay to collapse of dehydration while fucking some hot little Latino actress or vacationing singer.

“The limo should be waiting for us,” Burke said. “It won’t have any of Lambert’s usual amenities, but it’ll still be a limo.”

“As long as it’s air condition, I’ll be happy,” Stall said.

“Hey, Boss, can we hit the beaches while we’re here?” Marissa asked. “I mean, I’m almost criminally pale here. Ever since I left the French Riviera with you guys, my tan has all but vanished.”

“You look good pale,” Stall said.

“And you’ll be skin cancer free,” Burke put in.

“Oh shut up,” Marissa said. “I’m going to catch me some rays one way or another.”

“You’ll have plenty of time for the beach,” Stall replied. “I suspect that’s where we’ll find some of our prime targets.”

“Only if you can get us onto some of the more exclusive beaches and islands,” Marissa said. “Celebs don’t hang out with the local riffraff.”

“Peachy,” Stall muttered. This trip was going to cost him more than he thought. “I’ll see what I can do about getting us onto one of the more exclusive islands.”

“Meanwhile, I’m going to hit the public beach,” Marissa said. “You in, Mike?”

“Sure, why not,” Burke replied. “As soon as we’re squared away, we’ll head out.”

“Take a cellphone with you,” Stall said. “And your camera gear. You never know who you’ll run into.”

* * *

May 20th, 2005

South Beach

Miami, Florida, USA

“Damn,” Michael Burke muttered as a pair of latina babes walked past wearing little more than string over their bodies. “I knew clothing was more or less optional here in Miami, but this is ridiculous.”

“Don’t tell me you’re complaining,” Marissa said, walking next to him. She was wearing a slightly less revealing yellow string bikini that hugged her curves quite pleasingly. She was easily receiving plenty of attention from the rest of the crowd on the beach, all of it appreciative. Burke was all but ignored, save for the occasional envious glare from men – and women – seeing him with Marissa.

“Like I would complain about this many hotties walking around in next-to-nothing,” Burke said. “Still, it’s almost too much.”

“Too much?” Marissa asked. “Too much T&A on display?”

“Call it T&A overload,” Burke said, smiling at a trio of young Asian girls who walked past them. “A man’s head could explode down here.”

“Your little head, anyway,” Marissa joked. “There’s a spot over there.”

The two threaded their way through the crowded beach, until they hit a relatively open patch of beach not too far from the water. Burke put up their shade umbrella while Marissa laid out two towels, one outside the shade, one inside. By the time Burke was done, Marissa was down on her blanket, putting on a ton of sun block.

“Can you get my back,” she asked as she rolled over on her stomach.

“Sure,” Burke said, grabbing the sun block and applying a generous amount to her back. Carefully he spread it all over her back, making sure to get under the strings on her back. Burke was quite glad that she was lying down facing away from him, because as he spread the lotion, his cock grew rock hard in his pants. It was funny, the very first time he’d met Marissa, she’d given him a blowjob. Now, here he was several months later, getting turned on just by putting lotion on her back.

“You’ve got nice, firm hands, Michael,” Marissa said, breaking into Burke’s thoughts. “You ever think of giving massages for a living?”

“You mean on top of limo driving and bodyguarding?”

“Sure, why not,” Marissa said. “Rub some of that lotion down on the bottom of my back, just under the edge of my bottoms.”

“Excuse me?” Burke asked.

“In case I decide to lower them. I really should’ve worn a thong for tanning, but this was kind of a spur-of-the-moment trip here.”

Carefully, Burke put a little more lotion on the fingers of his right hand, and then slid it down into Marissa’s bikini bottoms. Rubbing the lotion into her skin, he tried very hard to resist the urge to rip those bottoms right off.

“Uh, Michael?” Marissa said after a moment or two.

“Yeah?” he said.

“I think I’m all set down there.”

“Sorry,” he said, pulling his hand out.”

“Damn, boy, we need to get you laid.”

“You offering?” He asked, trying to sound like he was joking.

“Maybe,” she said, turning towards him and smiling.

And suddenly that smile turned into a frown. “He, Mike, turn around a moment and check out the blonde in the Mets cap.”

Burke turned around and saw her instantly. She was cute, with perky little nipples poking through the top. Her blonde hair poked out from under the Mets cap in a long pony tail, and she actually wore a softball glove and looked to be getting ready to start throwing a game of catch.

“Cute,” Burke said. “What’s the deal?”

“She looks familiar to me,” Marissa said, reaching into her bag and pulling out the pendant with one of Lambert’s hidden cameras in it. “Lambert, can you hear me?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah, I hear you,” Lambert’s voice came back into Burke’s ear – where his hidden earpiece that connected him with Lambert’s elaborate camera system rested.

“You see the girl in the Mets cap?” Marissa asked. “She looks familiar to me. Am I just crazy, or is she someone I should know?”

“Personally,” Burke muttered, “I think you’re just crazy.”

“And here I was, just thinking of giving you have first crack at her,” Marissa said. “Now she’s mine.”

“Burke might stand a better chance,” Lambert’s voice came back. “You’re on the money this time, Marissa – that’s Jennie Finch, outstanding member of the U.S. Olympic Softball team.”

“I knew she was famous,” Marissa said with a smile. “Still, I’m sure I can get her before Burke could.”

“She’s supposed to be a rather devout Christian, and she is married,” Lambert pointed out.

“I’ve done married,” Marissa said.

“But devout Christians rarely take kindly to lesbians.”

“She’s a professional softball player,” Burke said. “If she doesn’t like lesbians, she’s in the wrong business.”

That seemed to shut Lambert up a bit.

“All right, you try first, Burke,” Marissa said. “You have half an hour, no using Lambert’s chemical. You can’t get into her pants by then, it’s my turn.”

“What do I get if I win?” Burke asked.

“You mean other than fucking a super-hot blonde?” Marissa asked.

“Yeah,” Burke said.

“Fine,” Marissa said, smiling. “You bag her, I’ll give you another blowjob when we get back to the hotel. But if I win, you have to do something for me.”

“What?” Burke asked.

Marissa thought for a long moment. “You have to give me an hour long massage using just your hands.”

“Just my hands?” Burke asked.

“I’ll be naked,” Marissa smiled at him.

“Damn,” Burke said, shaking his head. “You play dirty.”

“Get going, lover-boy,” Marissa said, motioning over towards where Jennie was playing. “You’ve got half an hour.”

* * *

May 20th, 2005

Isla Fortuna,

Off the Coast of Miami, Florida, USA

“I think you’ll find, Mr. Stall, that Isla Fortuna offers our clientele the most exclusive of vacationing options. We’re a closed community, of course, and no tourists are allowed on the island. No photographers, either. We have an impressive security screen around the entire community, and no one who’s not authorized to be here can get here.”

“Indeed,” Stall said. He was standing in an exclusive rental villa on a small, man-made island off the coast of Miami. After a good hour of searching, Lambert had discovered that Isla Fortuna was becoming a hot spot for celebs to vacation and relax while in Miami, mostly for the same reasons the young Real Estate agent showing him around the place was sprouting. The prices were exorbitant, but actually appeared worth it. Essentially, if Stall wanted to, he could rent a home for a period of time, and live there. The community provided security, housekeeping, and gardening services as part of the nasty-expensive rent and Stall would have access to all the exclusive spots on the island, including the three fancy restaurants, the “hidden” beach, and the luxury yacht club docks.

Of course, it was all just shy of being a scam. The prices were so high, even celebs would have to think twice about staying longer than a week or two. Indeed, Stall knew he could get access to all the things on the island off the island for less than what it would cost here. Still, exclusivity was worth something, and for celebs desperate to escape Miami’s particularly nasty paparazzi, the security this place offered was a god-send.

“This is the smallest place you have on the island?” He asked the young Latino woman showing him the place.

“Actually, no, we have two places a little smaller, but both are currently rented.”

“By who?” Stall asked casually. If he could get any idea who was on the island…

“One’s currently rented by the owner of a Texas Oil Conglomerate, and the other is rented by the Miami Herald – they’re throwing a party next weekend, and they wanted to do something extra special for it.”

“They needed the place that far in advance?” Stall asked.

“Our minimum rental time is two weeks,” the young lady said.

Stall frowned at that. He’d only be here ten days before he had to fly out to Colombia. If he got one of these houses today, he’d still be paying for four days he wasn’t going to be there…

He was by the window, looking out at the beachfront. This wasn’t the “hidden” beach, but there were still people on it. It was a beautiful view, and just on the horizon of Miami itself. He could see yachts and boats floating back and forth in the water, and several people walking the beach before him.

One of the people walking the beach was a stunning woman with milk chocolate colored skin, and a string bikini that hugged her curves. Familiar curves.

“Hey, boss,” Lambert’s voice filtered into his ear. “Not to alarm you, but unless she’s got an identical twin, that looks like Halle Berry out there on the beach.

Stall turned towards the young lady showing him the place. “I’ll take this one for two weeks.”

* * *

May 20th, 2005

South Beach

Miami, Florida, USA

Marissa Call could not believe her eyes. In the last twenty-five minutes, Burke had gone from talking his way into Jennie Finch’s short-handed softball game to all but making out with the blonde sports star. Indeed, his hands were all over her, and she didn’t seem to mind one bit. As Marissa watched, Jennie actually ran her hands over Burke’s bare chest, her pale white skin showing off rather well against his dark complexion.

And then, to Marissa’s eternal amazement, she pushed herself up on tip-toe and kissed Burke right on the lips. And she was MARRIED! Unbelieveable! She was all but dry humping Burke right there-

-And then it hit her. That bastard Burke had cheated.

“Lambert,” Marissa said as she watched Burke lead Jennie over to where her blankets and umbrella were set up. “Did Burke use your chemical on the Finch girl?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Lambert said. “But I haven’t really been watching.”

“What have you been watching?” Marissa asked.

“The boss has rented a house out on one of those exclusive resort islands for the next two weeks.”

“Cool,” Marissa muttered. There he went – Burke’s hand slipped down into Jennie’s bikini bottoms as he kissed her. Marissa was ready to spit fire. Burke had to be using the chemical. There was no way he could smooth talk a married woman out of her bikini top that fast – there it went, in fact, Jennie’s top flopped to the sand beside her rather secluded pile of blankets and umbrellas.

Actually, Jennie had her self almost a little fort going, with enough umbrellas and towels laid out to provide plenty of shade from the sun – and cover from prying eyes.

“Lambert, talk to me,” Marissa said, getting up to her knees. “What’s going on in there?”

“What, you can’t wait for the video?” Lambert asked.

“Just tell me,” Marissa snarled.

“He’s got her sucking on his cock. Damn, she’s got some perky nipples, you know that?”

“She’s giving him a blow job?” Marissa asked as she stood up and stretched. No one else was looking over at Jennie’s secluded spot – indeed, no one else seemed interested in it at all. There was only one angle to really look in, and Marissa would have to move to see it herself.

“Yeah, she’s giving him a blow,” Lambert said. “She’s actually doing a damn good job, too. She squeezing his balls and stroking his cock with her hands while she’s sucking on him. For a good little christian girl, she sure seems to know how to work some black cock.”

“You are so not helping right now,” Marissa said, slowly moving away from her own blanket and umbrella, moving closer to the water with the hopes of being able to peek into the Finch Fort, as she was thinking of it.

“The hell I ain’t,” Lambert shot back. “I’m recording all of this, watching as the boss heads out onto the beach to try and hook up with Halle Berry, AND I’m giving you a play-by-play as Burke fucks a softball babe. And, I might add, I’m doing all of this from New York, while you’re lounging about a beach in Miami.”

Marissa just sighed. She’d reached the edge of the beach now, and the cool water started to hit her feet. It felt oddly relaxing, despite the coldness of the water. Marissa felt her nipples go hard in response, but ignored them as she casually started to stroll down the beach, in the hope of getting just the right angle to see what Burke and Finch were up to.

“Oops,” Lambert said. “Looks like the blow job’s over. Though Burke was kind enough to give her a new pearl necklace as payment.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Marissa muttered.

“Whoa, looks like our little fastballer is up for more – she’s going to let Burke fuck her after all.”

“He MUST have used the chemical,” Marissa muttered. “There’s no other way this could be happening.”

“So what if he did – we’re getting the footage – along with some wonderful closeups. And, hey, thanks for moving around the little fort thing she’s got set up – it’ll make for some nice establishing shots when I edit this all together to send to the Timekeepers-”

“Just shut up, Lambert,” Marissa sighed.

And then she reached it – the right angle to look up into Jennie Finch’s umbrellas and towels, and see what the Olympic Softball star was doing.

And she was doing Burke.

From her angle, Marissa could see only Jennie and Burke’s bottom halves, but that was more than enough. She could actually watch as Burke shoved his hard black cock into Jennie’s wet white snatch.

Marissa snorted in anger, and then marched off. If Burke was going to play that way, fine. He could have his little blonde softball girl. Marissa would just have to score someone else. Someone even hotter. That would show that cheating bastard.

“And he damn well better not come looking for that blow job,” Marissa muttered out loud.

“What was that?” Lambert asked.

“Just. Shut. Up.”

* * *

May 20th, 2005

Isla Fortuna,

Off the Coast of Miami, Florida, USA

“I don’t know if you remember,” Stall said as he walked along the beach on Isla Fortuna, “But we met briefly in New York a couple of weeks back.”

Halle Berry looked up at Stall and smiled. “I thought you looked familiar, Mr. Stall, but I couldn’t quite place you.”

“That you even remember my face is a compliment,” Stall said. “And please, call me Richard.”

“Richard,” Halle said, smiling at him. “So, what do you think of Isla Fortuna, Richard?”

“Beautiful,” Stall said, smiling at her. “And, I might add, that the island is rather beautiful, too.”

“Oh, come on,” Halle said, swatting his arm. “You can do better than that, Richard.”

“Better than that?” Stall asked.

“That was a line,” Halle said. “I’ve heard them all before, and that was far from the best. I know your type, Richard Stall, and I know you’ve got better lines than that.”

Stall thought for a moment. “Well,” he said. “The whole island does a wonderful job of bringing out your eyes.”

Halle frowned. “Better, but not there yet. Try working it so that it doesn’t compliment just how beautiful I am.”

“But you are beautiful.”

“I know,” Halle said. “Now convince me I’m charming.”

“Charming?” Stall said. “My god, woman, you have a gift for understatement. Bewitching, enchanting, awe-inspiring – those are all good words for you. Charming makes it sound like you’re someone’s grandfather who’s had a little too much gin at Christmas time.”

Halle smiled at that. “Now that’s better. But come on, compliment me on something other than my looks.”

Stall thought for a long moment. “Your voice,” he said, slowly, making sure that he was looking at her in the eyes. “Your voice has a way of echoing in my soul in such a fashion that it’s still reverberating several minutes after you’ve stopped talking.”

“But I’ve been talking since you came up to me earlier,” Halle said.

“Indeed, and now my soul is filled with conflicting, yet complimentary echos that bounce about around each other, filling me almost perfectly with a slowly fading impression of your soul on mine.”

“Oh,” Halle said, smirking. “That’s smooth. That is smooth indeed, Mr. Stall.”

“Richard,” he insisted again.

“Richard,” Halle corrected. “Tell me, did you come up with that all by yourself, or is it from a movie I haven’t seen?”

“I don’t think it’s from a movie, but if you’d care to use it in one of yours, just remember to include me in the writing credits.”

Halle laughed. “Please, Hollywood steals lines like that every morning before breakfast. You’d be lucky if you could be my assistant on my next movie.”

“What about your Best Boy?” Stall asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

“You don’t give up, do you Richard.”

“Not until I get what I want,” Stall said, taking Halle by the hand. She didn’t resist as he pulled her to him.

“And I’m what you want?” Halle asked.

“I’m sorry, haven’t I made that clear?” Stall replied.

“I don’t know if you have or not,” Halle admitted.

“I want you,” Stall said, his voice growing slightly husky as he said that.

“I just bet you do,” Halle said leaning in towards him. Stall took the initiative and bent down to give her a kiss-

– and watched as she pulled back from him.

“No one said I wanted you, Mr. Stall,” Halle said.

“Richard,” he insisted again.

Halle broke out of his grasp, and for a long moment, Stall worried he’d have to use his watch, loaded with Lambert’s aphrodisiac.

“I’m afraid you have to work a little harder than that to get to kiss me, Richard.”

“I was afraid of that,” he said, pressing the button on his watch.

“Of course,” Halle said, turning her back on him. “No one said I wouldn’t give you the chance to get that hard work in.”

“Excuse me?” Stall asked as the watch sprayed his hand.

“Meet me at the Fortuna Tuna,” Halle said over her shoulder. “Tonight, Nine o’clock. Don’t be late, and bring me a gift.”

“A gift?” Stall asked.

“You always bring a lady a gift when you take her on a date, Mr. Stall.”

“Richard,” he corrected her as he watched her walk away down the beach.

“Nine o’clock, Richard,” Halle said. “Don’t be late.”

Stall marveled at Halle’s bikini-clad ass as she walked away. “Believe me, I won’t,” he said when she was out of ear shot.

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