Isla and Izzy
Story Codes: FF, cons, oral, rom
Celebs: Isla Fisher, Isabelle Fuhrman
This is fiction, it did NOT happen. Fantasy is legal.
Also, if you like this story, email me at email@example.com
Note: For the sake of not every story of mine involving Hollywood and film-making, the actresses in this are basically themselves if they weren’t actresses.
Isla was a divorcee from Perth, Australia, who came to Washington, D.C. to be with her former husband, a Senator’s personal assistant from America, who she met while he was vacationing in her home city. After the marriage ended, Isla decided to go back to the job she had when they met; a hotel maid.
She worked at a couple of places before arriving at the infamous Hilton. When she got the job, her sister told her, “Crikey, that’s where Hinckley tried to kill Reagan!”
On her first day, the almost screamingly eastern European manager introduced her to his daughter, Isabelle.
“You have a few years at this job, so I thought you could show my little girl the ropes.”
Isla had worked with a few boss’ daughters in her day, and had some idea of what to expect from this one. To her surprise, though, Isabelle defied her expectations, and then some. While obviously still green, Izzy was very cooperative, and willing to do at least her fair share. There was one moment, though, that made Isla’s jaw drop.
At about two in the afternoon, they got a call about a ‘Code Brown’. Even after all these years, Isla dreaded those words. She had no idea, though, how bad it was.
The guest had gotten black-out drunk the night before, and, at one point in his bender, suffered a severe case of the trots. He was so blasted, he didn’t even flush, just stood up, shuffled over to the bed, pants around his ankles, and passed out on the bed. Those who’ve encountered an unflushed turd know where this is headed.
On opening the bathroom door, Isabelle reeled back, and even gagged a little, but then put her face mask on, and went right in.
Later, they sat in the break room, having coffee.
“Okay, I gotta admit, the thing with the bathroom was impressive. I’ve known twenty-year veterans who weren’t that professional.”
“Well, thank you.”
“Honestly, when your father stuck me with you, I wasn’t looking forward to it, but you don’t act like any boss’ daughter I’ve ever met.”
“Well, when I was younger, my dad said,” Izzy started imitating her father’s accent, “‘Isabelle, the problem with this country isn’t rich people, it’s rich people thinking money makes them superior to everyone else.'”
“That’s a good philosophy. So, he has you work like a regular employee.”
“Oh, I am a regular employee. My paycheck is my allowance. Of course, he still pays for some things. And I, uh, have access to certain things other employees don’t.”
Over the next few months, Isla and Isabelle became great friends, so much so, Izzy would always pick Isla when given the option of who to work with.
One day, the two were again on break, and Izzy decided to start grilling Isla on something.
“So, I hope you don’t mind me asking, what was your ex-husband like?”
“Oh, he was alright. We just got on each other’s nerves after a while.”
“What did he look like?”
“Oh, you know, tall, dark, and very Jewish.”
“Really? You, uh, like Jewish men?”
“Oh, yeah, the Jewish race as a whole are very sexy.” Izzy giggled at this. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason.”
“Oh, God, you’re not trying to hook me up with your dad, are you?”
Izzy full-on laughed at this. “Oh, nonononono. No.”
A couple more months later, towards the end of their shift, they were doing their rounds, when Izzy asked Isla, “Have you ever seen the presidential suite?”
“No, I don’t think I have.”
After their shift, they changed out of their uniforms, and Izzy took Isla up to the top floor.
“Of course,” Izzy said as they walked down the hall, “you gotta love the irony of a hotel having a presidential suite in the city where the president lives.”
“Well, I assume other people stay here, but I know what you mean.”
“Tell me about it. One time, a bunch of rich kids rented it for prom night, and filled the hot-tub with booze.”
“Ooh, I know where this story is headed.”
“When he confronted the parents, he said, ‘If you want to do your kids a favor, beat the shit out of them when you get home.'”
“He really said ‘shit’?”
When they entered, Isla’s mouth gaped open. “Crikey, this place is bigger than my apartment.”
“Hey, come see the bedroom.”
On entering the room, Isla saw the place set up for a small party.
“I-” Isla stammered, “what is all this?”
Izzy sighed. “It’s my birthday. I’m eighteen today.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay. Dad said I could have a party with all my friends. Problem is, I only have one friend.”
“Oh, you mean…”
“Yeah…” Izzy sat down, and Isla sat down next to her. “I know what I sound like, ‘Poor little rich girl.'”
“Nah, I don’t think anyone’d ever think that about you.”
“There’s something else. Another thing my dad said, ‘The other problem with this country, everyone wants to tell you who you can love.’ He said that to me when he figured out…”
“Wait, are you saying…”
“Yeah. You’re not freaked by this, are you?”
Isla took Izzy’s head in hand, and drew it to her shoulder. “Oh, Izzy,” Isla smiled, and even giggled a little, “You’re one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. And certainly the sweetest I’ve ever had tell me they’re in love with me. And that includes my ex-husband.” Izzy busted out laughing at this. Isla turned her head, and released Izzy’s. “What do you wanna do right now?”
“I wanna kiss you.”
“Then kiss me.” Izzy leaned in, and their lips met. The two wrapped their arms around each other, less like a lover’s embrace, and more like a warm, affectionate hug, as they lip-locked.
Isla guided Izzy down on to her back, then, unbuttoning her shirt with one hand and Izzy’s with the other, Isla whispered, “You know, this isn’t my first gay experience.”
“I went to college,” Isla smirked.
Now down to their bras, the two made out on the bed. Izzy gasped as Isla started to kiss down her neck, even nibbling on her earlobe a little, before continuing down, kissing down her chest. Isla pulled down one of Izzy’s bra straps, exposing her nipple. Izzy bit her lip when she felt Isla lick and suck on it. Isla continued kissing down Izzy’s stomach, pulling down Izzy’s jeans as she moved down.
After she got the jeans off, Isla kissed Izzy’s inner thighs, teasing closer and closer to the center, finally moving her already moist panties aside. Izzy now gasped, as she felt Isla gently licking her pussy. “Isla wasn’t lying,” Izzy thought to herself, “she really has done this before,” as Isla made love to her twat with her tongue. Izzy felt her hips jerk involuntarily when she came. After it passed, Isla came back up, and shoved her tongue in Izzy’s mouth, as if to say, “This is what you taste like.”
Moments later, both were naked, and Isla sat with her back against the headboard, as Izzy squeezed and suckled her tits. As she started to move down, Izzy whispered, “I think it goes without saying, I’ve never done this before.”
“Don’t worry,” Isla whispered back, “you’re doing fine.”
Izzy moved further down, tickling her nose on Isla’s ginger pubes. Isla’s face instantly contorted when she felt Izzy’s tongue probing her gash.
“Oh, Izzy, you’re doing better than fine.” Isla moaned, running her fingers through Izzy’s hair, and writhing on the bed, as Izzy ate her out. Isla didn’t say anything, but this was the best head she’d gotten since college. When the orgasm hit, Isla let out a high-pitched yelp. She then held Izzy’s head up to hers, and sucked Izzy’s tongue into her mouth. “Oh, God, thank you, Izzy,” she whispered, pressing their foreheads together.
Afterwards, the two lay there, holding each other close, staring at the ceiling.
“Do ya think your dad will be okay with me sleeping here tonight?”
“Yeah, I think he’ll allow it.” Isla grinned wide, and her and Izzy kissed once more.