Around the World in 80 Babes
by: TRL
Chapter 5: Going Down on the French Mediterranean
January 30th, 2005
Beach le’ Carnivale
South of France, on the Mediterranean
Michael Burke sighed as he eyed the three very attractive young women, clad only in bikinis, walking down the beach towards the warm, Mediterranean waters below. Considering how small said bikinis were, it wasn’t hard at all for the young, black American to visualize how luscious their bodies underneath would feel in his hands.
It had been quite a while since Burke had been with a woman himself. Several
months, at least. Perhaps even bordering on a year now. He knew that, thanks to his employer, he could have any number of willing, arousing companions for a night. But prostitutes and escorts were not his style. He preferred his women unpaid for, except, perhaps, in drinks.
His employer, one Richard Stall, didn’t need to pay for his women, either. He simply seduced them. Sometimes he had help from chemicals designed to increase the female libido, but for the most part, Stall relied on his own charm and talent for saying the right thing and the right time.
They were all talents Burke wished he himself had.
At the moment, Stall was off at a concert, something that was, in fact, rather odd. Stall preferred classical music to the French Pop music he’d be listening to at the moment. But, considering that the concert was merely a prelude to what Stall hoped would be an eventful early evening with the performer of said music, Burke could understand why he’d sit through it.
It did, however, leave Burke with very little to do himself.
As Stall’s primary driver, Burke sat in the limo he’d driven over on the ferry from England, waiting for Stall to make his move. Considering that the concert didn’t start for another twenty minutes, and was scheduled to last another two hours, it was likely that Burke would be waiting a long time.
“Hey, Mike, you read the papers lately?” a voice in Burke’s ear spoke up. Thomas Lambert, Stall’s resident computer genius/pervert’s voice echoed through the earpiece Burke wore.
“All the papers here are in French, Lambert,” Burke muttered. “Couldn’t read them if I wanted to.”
“Get this: ‘Police Investigate Kidman’s Spy. Oscar winner Nicole Kidman called police last week after discovering an intruder had planted an electronic listening device at her $9.5 million mansion in Sydney, Australia.'”
“What?” Burke said, surprised.
“Hang on, it gets better,” Lambert said. “‘ The Cold Mountain beauty flew back to Australia a day after she was told the unnamed man had bugged the security compound where her guards stay. Kidman has given footage of the mystery person, caught on her security cameras, to the police who are running tests on the device to ensure they capture the culprit. Noel McMaster, who runs the actress’ security operation, says, “Conclusive evidence has been captured on camera.” A source tells British newspaper The Sun, “Nicole was shocked and she’s determined to get to the bottom of it. It came totally out of the blue and really shook her up. It was hidden in a security compound where her guards stay and was designed to pick up their conversations.”‘”
“Tell me this wasn’t your doing,” Burke said.
“Nope. Haven’t gotten anywhere in Australia yet. However, it does provide me a window of opportunity,” Lambert replied.
“How’s that?” Burke asked.
“Simple. Nicole and other Aussie celebs are going to want to be sure they aren’t being bugged. What better cover to install bugs than as a company sweeping for them?”
“Shit,” Burke replied, shaking his head. “Think the boss will go for it?”
“Hope so,” Lambert said. “I’ve already sent a team to Sydney to get to work on it.”
“Pushing it a bit, aren’t we, Lambert?” Burke asked.
“For a chance to nab Nicole Kidman naked? I’d risk just about anything.”
“Hasn’t she been naked in, like, half her movies anyway?”
“Yeah, but this would be MY movie,” Lambert said. Burke could almost hear the smile on Lambert’s face.
And, far away, someone else could see the smile on Burke’s face.
* * *
January 30th, 2005
Hotel Clarion
South of France, on the Mediterranean
“This driver has to be the most boring person on Earth,” Raven muttered under her breath.
Crow rolled his eyes, but didn’t move from his seat at the table on the balcony. He was running an in-depth scan of all of Richard Stall’s transactions over the last year, and didn’t particularly want to move away at this point, despite his partner’s distress.
The two had been working together for a little more than a year now, having been brought together by Blackbird to do the more in-depth work he needed done. Crow was tall – six feet, three inches, to be exact – black, and muscular. Years ago, he’d been a boxer with a nasty right hook that had felled more than a few opponents. Now, he was a killer for hire, with an impressive kill count to his name.
His partner, Raven, though, was the deadlier of the two. Clocking in at five feet, four inches, with ebony black hair and porcelain white skin, the young woman was a master of at least three different forms of martial arts, and could shoot the eraser off a pencil and three hundred yards with one hand tied behind her tiny little back. But perhaps her most deadly feature were her looks. Crow had watched Raven take three of their targets into the bedroom over the last year, and not a one had come out alive.
Raven was currently clad in the tiniest of black bikinis, mere straps of fabric covering her nipples and crotch, with but the thinnest of strands running around her back and between her ample but cheeks. Any red blooded, heterosexual man could be brought to a complete halt with just a glimpse of the body Raven had.
Fortunately for Mr. Blackbird, Crow was gay. Otherwise, Raven would’ve needed a new partner long ago.
“Seriously, he’s spent the last hour just staring out at the beach, staring at the chicks as they go by. He hasn’t even made a move on any of them.”
“Maybe he’s gay,” Crow offered as he looked up another of Stall’s business deals.
“Not by that woody he’s sporting after that blonde just walked by,” Raven replied.
Crow merely sighed in response.
“So, how long are we supposed to watch this guy? I mean, he’s not even the target!” Raven muttered.
“The target’s in the middle of a pop concert,” Crow muttered. “Now’s the best time to be viewing his support staff he’s got with him. This driver could also be his bodyguard.”
Raven peered through the binoculars again and frowned. “If he is, he’s either very, very good, or very, very bad. I could ice him now in fifteen seconds flat wearing just this bikini and using just my hands.”
“Unless he’s as versed in the martial arts as you are,” Crow pointed out.
“That’s the problem,” Raven replied. “We don’t know if he’s had any training or not.”
“We really need more indepth info on this guy,” Crow said. “The target’s bad enough as it is. His help is practically impossible to find. Blackbird usually does better.”
“Give him time, he hasn’t had this assignment long,” Raven replied. Suddenly, she tensed. “Wait a second, who’s this?”
“Who’s who?” Crow asked.
“Our driver’s got some rather attractive company all of a sudden.”
* * *
January 30th, 2005
Beach le’ Carnivale
South of France, on the Mediterranean
Burke was just about to give up and see what kind of TV reception he could get in the limo when she arrived.
One minute, he’d been standing there, accepting the warm Mediterranean sun upon his face and generally wondering if the concert was over yet. Lambert was supposed to let him know when Stall made his move, but there hadn’t been a peep out of the computer nerd in a while.
The next minute, something short, blonde, and in a hurry crashed right into Burke, nearly sending him sprawling to the ground. Only because he was leaning against the limo did he manage to keep his feet beneath him.
Looking down, Burke saw a young woman who couldn’t have been a day over nineteen. Her skin was tanned richly, though probably from just hanging out here in the French Mediterranean – her blonde hair implied a fairer background. She had ruby red lips that were clearly adorned with lipstick that was a shade or two too bright, and her blue eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief.
She wore a yellow bikini top that barely held in her breasts, and a pair of cut-off jeans that hugged her shapely ass. She carried one large orange, red, and green beach bag that was almost as large as she was, and a smaller, stylish black purse that didn’t quite go with either her outfit, or her general aura. This was girl not horribly accustomed to fancy items, like said purse.
Instantly, she started jabbering at him in French – which, in retrospect, he probably should have expected, but for some reason, this bothered him.
“Slow down, girl!” Burke said in English. “I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”
“You’re American?” The girl asked, her English suddenly quite clear, with the slightest hint of a southern accent.
“Yeah, and you just about flattened me out on the street! Watch where-”
She cut him off with a question.
“This your Limo?” She asked.
“My employer’s,” Burke said cautiously.
The girl looked back the way she came, then turned towards him. “If you let me hide in your limo, I’ll give you a blowjob. No questions asked.”
“What?” Burke said.
“I haven’t got all day, buddy!” The girl said, looking more than a little agitated.
“Uh, alright,” Burke said, not knowing what else to say. He opened the back door to the limo, and the girl jumped in.
“Give me ten minutes, then come get your blow,” she said, shutting the door behind her.
Not surprisingly, not a minute later, two very out of shape French police officers went racing by – if a bent over, out-of-breath jog counted as racing. They paid no attention to Burke or the limo, and as soon as they were around the next corner, he turned back towards the car.
“They’re gone,” he said simply as he opened the driver’s door.
“Good,” the girl said. “Give me another minute or two to catch my breath, and I’ll give you that blow. I don’t back out of deals I make.” She said that last as if it was a matter of pride.
“Sure,” Burke said. He waited exactly two minutes before getting out and opening the back door, sliding in easily.
“Hi,” the girl said, sipping on one of the bottles of water Stall kept back in the mini-fridge. “I hope you don’t mind, but I really needed a drink.”
“No problem,” Burke said. “How much was in the purse?”
“About a hundred Euros,” The girl said, nonchalantly. “Not quite worth the run from the locals, but it’ll keep food on the table for a week.”
“You’re American, aren’t you?” Burke asked.
“Listen, I don’t really have time for a meet and greet. You want that blow now or what?”
“Burke?” a new voice entered the room. It was Lambert.
“Uh, okay,” Burke said. The girl shrugged and got down on her knees. It was easy for her to work her way over to Burke’s lap and start to undo his fly.
“Mike, you busy?” Lambert asked.
“Yes,” Burke hissed.
“Boy, you get into things quickly,” the girl said as she pulled out Burke’s rapidly growing cock. “Mmm, black cock. Haven’t had one of these in a while.”
“Well,” Lambert’s voice filled Burke’s ear, “The boss made it past security – my hacking skills score again. His backstage pass has him doing the meet and greet and hopefully fuck any second now. It’ll automatically show on the screen in the limo if you want to watch.”
“Thanks,” Burke muttered.
“Thanks?” The girl said. “Boy, you enjoy your blowjobs. Trust me, Mister, you’ve got one hell of a ride coming.” With that, she dropped her lips down over Burke’s impressive manhood and started bobbing her head up and down.
Behind the girl, attached to the ceiling, the small TV screen came to life. Sure enough, there was Richard Stall, already not wearing his shirt, and making out with his celeb of choice for the day.
Said celeb was French Pop Starlet Alizee Jacotet, or just Alizee for those whould couldn’t pronounce Jacotet. Burke didn’t know how Stall had managed to get alone in her dressing room, nor did he know how his employer had already proceeded to seduce the woman. Burke guessed that Stall had used Lambert’s chemicals to seal the deal faster, but was surprised the young Alizee would be willing to get naked quite so quickly. Already, she was shedding out of the tight, black, one-piece number that showed off her shapely ass during dance routines. Underneath, she wore nothing by sheer stockings and a strapless support bra. With a flick of his finger, Stall had the bra on the floor, and was latching on to the young singer’s nipple with his lips.
Normally, Burke would’ve turned the sound on and listened in – Alizee looked like she was moaning up a storm as Stall moved his hands down to her ass and squeezed the firm flesh. But, since he himself was getting a rather generous amount of head from a girl who didn’t know that the TV was even on, silent celeb porn would have to do.
“Man, look at that girl’s ass,” Lambert’s voice cut in again, making Burke roll his eyes. Did the man ever shut up?
In his crotch, the young blonde moaned as she slurped his cock, making Burke shudder in pleasure.
“Christ, look at that!” Lambert cried out again as Stall pressed Alizee down towards his own swollen crotch. “The boss is actually pushing her to her knees! Christ, you and I would never get away with that!”
The young woman pulled off Burke cock and lowered herself down enough that she could take his balls in her mouth, gently sucking on them like they were priceless jewels. On the screen above her head, Alizee was using her hands to gently massage Stall’s “family jewels” as she worked her superstar lips over his cock.
“Can you believe this?” Lambert asked.
“Oh yeah,” Burke replied breathlessly.
“That good, huh?” The girl asked, letting go of Burke’s balls and taking his cock in her hands. She slowly started to jack him off, using the saliva she’d coated it in earlier as lube. Burke was in heaven, and, from the look of his face on the TV screen, Stall was enjoying his blowjob, too.
“Dude, are you alright? You sound out of breath?” Lambert’s voice asked in Burke’s ear.
“Oh yeah,” Burke said again, feeling the spectacular sensation of the blonde’s fingers gripping his cock and milking it harder and harder. She smiled up at him and took the tip of his cock in her mouth and started to apply just a hint of tongue around the edges of his head.
“Are you sure?” Lambert asked. Then there was a long pause. “Dude, are you jacking off?”
And just as Lambert said that, the young woman used her free hand to grab Burke’s sack with a firm but gentle grip, while stroking and sucking his cock.
“Ohhhhh, God!” Burke cried out in pleasure. He was close. Very close.
Up on the screen, Stall had pulled Alizee of his cock and was now working on getting her completely naked. The instant her stockings had hit the carpet, Stall was pressing her down onto the nearby couch.
“Dude,” Lambert said. “Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to intrude. I mean, I usually wait until after I’ve finished editing these things together before I do what you’re doing. But you’ve been out on that beach all day, watching all the hotties go by – you probably need the release.”
Never in his entire life had Michael Burke wanted to tell someone to shut up more than he did just then.
On the screen, Alizee was grabbing at the back of the couch, her head rolling back and forth as Stall pressed himself into her warm and willing snatch. The young French starlet was coated with sweat now, and none of it was from the concert she’d just performed. Her tits jiggled as Stall started to hammer himself into her, and her fingers practically clawed at Stall’s back.
Burke’s own partner had all but made the driver explode. Her lips felt like the silkiest of silks, and the heat of her mouth was unmatched by anything Burke had felt around his cock in years. Her fingers danced expertly up and down his shaft, stroking and tickling with perfection, and the way she gripped his balls made him want to scream.
It was without a doubt the best blow job Michael Burke had ever had in his life.
“Dude, are you alright? Say something?” Lambert called out.
“Oh my god, I’m going to cum!” Burke rasped, his breath uneven, his voice pained.
“Dude, over-share!” Lambert’s voice came back, sounding disgusted.
“Good,” the blonde said, taking her lips off his cock for a moment. “I like to swallow.”
Burke blinked at that, which gave the young woman just enough time to engulf his member in her mouth before he shot the biggest load of his entire life right down her throat.
Burke must have blacked out for a few moments, because the next thing he knew, someone was slapping his leg.
“I asked you a question,” the young blonde said as Burke raised his still-orgasm-fogged head from the back of the car seat. “What is this?”
It took a second before Burke realized what she was pointing at.
Sure enough, the young woman was pointing at the video screen when Richard Stall was now laying on his back, Alizee riding his cock on top of him.
“Oh, shit,” Burke muttered.
“That looks like that singer,” the blonde said. “Alizee. Is it her?”
“Yeah,” Burke said, sitting up straight and putting his cock back in his pants.
“It’s amazing,” the girl said, staring openly at the screen now. “That man who’s with her – her husband?”
“No,” Burke said.
“Who is he?” she asked.
“My boss,” Burke said.
“Your boss? He filmed himself having sex with Alizee?”
“You could say that…”
“Gutsy guy,” the girl said. “Going to use it for blackmail?”
“No,” Burke said.
“Too bad,” the girl said. “Could make a lot of money.”
“He’s more interested in the film,” Burke said, instantly knowing her shouldn’t have said a word.
“What do you mean?” The girl asked.
“Uh, you should probably go now,” Burke said, reaching for the door. She stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“I think it’s hot,” she said simply.
“What?” Burke asked.
“The film,” she replied. “It’s hot. Does your boss have any more of them?”
“A few, back home in England,” Burke replied.
“So he’s been fucking Alizee for a while then?” The girl asked.
“No, he’s got other celebs at home,” Burke said, watching the girl’s face. She seemed genuinely amazed at what she was seeing. On screen, Stall had flipped Alizee back onto her back, and had whipped his cock out and was standing over her. He was rapidly jerking his cock while pointing towards Alizee’s naked breasts.
“Oh my god,” The girl said as her eyes went wide.
And as she said that, Richard Stall shot his load all over Alizee’s chest, coating her with cum.
Burke and the girl stared at the screen for several long moments, watching as Alizee rubbed the cum into her chest. They watched silently as Stall kissed the young French girl and stood up, searching for his pants. They saw Alizee kiss Stall on the cheek before he grabbed his watch, and they were still watching when Lambert shut the camera off, sending the TV screen to black.
“Your boss has more tapes like that?” the girl asked.
“Yeah.”
“Do you think he’d let me see them?”
“I-I don’t know,” Burke stammered.
“Can you let me ask him?”
“Why do you want to see them?”
“Because they turned me on,” the girl replied. “And I might be able to get him some more.”
* * *
January 30th, 2005
Outside the LaSalle Stadium
South of France, on the Mediterranean
Richard Stall felt himself smiling as he walked out towards his limo. They’d been in France only a couple of days, and he’d already bagged his first celeb. The French Riviera was, hopefully, going to prove quite a hunting ground for horny female celebs.
“Michael,” Stall said as he approached his limo. Burke was standing beside it, just as he always was. “Did you catch the show?”
“Ah, yeah, Boss, I did. Listen-”
“Fantastic. Man, that Alizee is quite the piece, isn’t she? A wonderful fuck. Once were done getting all Eighty, I may come back for another shot at her.”
“Sir, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” Burke said as Stall slid into the limo-
– and came face to face with a smiling young blonde.
“Who the hell are you?” Stall demanded.
“Mr. Stall?” The girl said, offering him her hand. “My name is Marissa Call. I understand you enjoy taping Celebrities having sex.”
“Michael!!!” Stall bellowed. “What the hell is going on here?!”
“Just listen to her, sir,” Burke said from outside the limo.
“Mr. Stall, I have a proposition for you,” Call said. “I want out of France. And I want out bad. If you can get me out of this country, I can get you footage of two very attractive, very famous women having sex. With me.”
Stall blinked hard at her for a long moment.
“Interested?” Call asked.
“Close the door, Michael,” Stall said. “What was your name again, young lady?”
“Marissa Call.”
“Miss Call, I’ll admit you’ve peaked my interest,” Stall said. “Please, go on…”
To Be Continued…