The Francisco Seven [multiple celebrities] [complete]

[Cindylover1969]

“It's okay, give your boyfriend a fun night,” Jessica said, her tone sounding friendly and understanding. The disappointed look in her eyes, on the other hand, told a different story.

“I'm sorry, Jess, he surprised me.”

“Is there something you two need to do?” Jason asked. “It's kinda late, but if it's wedding related-”

“Nope, we were just going to hang out, have a little girl time,” Jessica said. “You're a lucky girl, JoAnna. He's cute. And that's coming from a lesbian.” With that, Jessica turned and walked back down the hall, heading towards her own room.

Jason sniffed the air. “You smell like booze,” he chided playfully.

JoAnna watched Jessica go, her eyes focused on the ass she almost got to see naked. When she turned the corner, JoAnna turned around and pushed Jason into the room. “Pants off, mister. I need you to fuck me harder than you've ever fucked me before.”

And he did. And JoAnna loved every second of it. They did all her favorites, from him taking her from behind to her her riding him cowgirl style. So wild was the sex, they broke two different condoms, though thankfully those breaks were caught before a real accident happened. But when he was finished and out cold beside her, JoAnna checked her phone. A single text from Jessica was waiting for her.

“Next time, my room.”

*   *   *

The Topless waitresses had put all the chairs up on the tables, Diego had ushered out the last of the regulars, and Charisma had paid Rose Bertram for her work for the last week, and finally the Spectacular was closed for the night. Beverley Mitchell sighed, leaned back in her seat, and winced. Her ass still hurt from all the fucking Rosie Huntington-Whiteley had given her the night before. Charisma sauntered over to the bar, shooting Beverley a look.

“Buy you a drink?” Charisma asked.

“You own the joint, go ahead,” Beverley replied. Rhona was off fucking Kristen Bell, Tammin had vanished with that hot little stripper, what was the harm?

Charisma got out a bottle of Tequila and two glasses, filling the both before sitting down next to Beverley. “To your health.”

“Whatever,” Beverley muttered, downing the shot in one gulp. “Maybe when I'm done this stupid FBI work, Rhona will give me a club.”

“She owns a few of them,” Charisma admitted. “It's tough work, but with Rhona bankrolling you, it's worth the hassles.”

[Cindylover1969]

“Plus there's all the pussy,” Beverley muttered, glancing at the still topless Emily DiDonato as she walked by with the til from the bar.

“There's that,” Charisma said. She watched Emily duck into the office. “I should do Emily again. She was fun. Unless you want her for the night.”

“Ooh, tempting, but I'm still beat. Rosie did a number on me. I still can't sit right.”

“Been there, felt that,” Charisma said, pouring Beverley another glass. “How much longer do you think you'll need to keep working? At the FBI, I mean?”

“Don't know,” Beverley admitted. “Rhona put me in to help deal with some stuff, like those San Francisco Eight girls, but Kristen takes up most of my time now.”

“The same Kristen the boss is fucking like crazy right now,” Charisma pointed out. “So your work could be done as we speak.”

“Could be,” Beverley admitted. “Though I'd like to get rid of that obnoxious BJ girl before I go.”

“She's cute. I hope you fuck her before you kill her.”

“Don't think I could stand it,” Beverley said. “Though she IS talented with those lips.” She pounded her shot, and Charisma poured her another. “And I should probably get rid of Jessica Biel, too.”

“Who's that?”

“She's the local office head up in San Fran,” Beverley said, wiping her mouth with the back of her arm. “Hot as all get out, but she's smart. Too smart. She'll probably figure out Kristen was too close and come looking for her. There'll be an investigation, and Jessica will head it personally. Can't have that.” Beverley downed another shot.

“Have you slept with her?”

“Fuck yes. You don't get promoted in San Fran without getting between those legs. I didn't mind,” Beverley snorted.

“Is there anyone at that station you haven't fucked?”

“Couple of the guys in maintenance. Maybe the lunch lady, though she's oddly cute out of the hairnet.” Charisma laughed. “Oh, and Rebel Wilson down in the Janitor's office. Haven't gotten that desperate yet.”

Charisma laughed again, then poured them each another shot. “Well, if Rhona does give you your own club, I promise you you've got the fucking the help thing down pat.”

“A girl's gotta get her rocks off somehow,” Beverley said.

[Cindylover1969]

“That she does,” Charisma said. She glanced at Beverley. “You know, I've got a few tricks that make a well-fucked ass feel better.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Charisma said, putting a hand on Beverley's knee. “If you're interested, we could go back to my place and-”

Beverley's phone cut her off, and the federal agent cursed. “Sorry, it's work.”

“Rhona-work, or-”

“Agent Mitchell,” Beverley said, answering. To her surprise, it was Jessica Biel on the phone. 

*   *   *

Kristen is just reaching into Rhona’s purse when the agent’s phone rings. It’s Jessica Biel, with important news - the San Fran 8 have escaped prison. Kristen is to pull her team immediately and return via helicopter from the LA office. Kristen stops only long enough to get dressed and release Sonja/Rhona from her handcuffs.

Kristen Bell was just starting to open the wallet when her phone rang. Kristen put the designer leather down on the table next to Sonja's clutch, then hurried over to where her own purse had ended up, in a chair next to the bed. She missed the sigh of relief Sonja let out in her hurry to get to the phone before it took the message.

“Agent Bell,” she said, catching it just in time.

“Kristen, I need you back in San Fran, immediately,” Jessica Biel told her without preamble.

“What? But we're close! We've got Rhona right where we want her! I can feel it,” she said, sitting down on the bed next to Sonja.

“Forget it,” Jessica said flatly. “There was a breakout from Remy Hadley tonight. Almost all of the San Fran Eight escaped. They managed to catch two of them, but the others are gone, along with another inmate. Kristen, this is serious. We're keeping it out of the press for now, but that won't last. Probably be all over the news before you make it back.”

“Shit!” Kristen said. “Shit shit shit!” She stood up and immediately went for her clothes. “All right, call Beverley, I'll get Tammin. It'll take hours for us to drive back, but-”

“Just go to the LA Office,” Jessica said. “I'll have a helicopter waiting for you. We can't waste time on this one. When it hits the press, the whole town is going to explode.”

“I know, I know. Alright, we're moving,” Kristen said, pulling a shirt over her head before hanging up the phone. She tosses the phone on the bed next to Sonja.

[Cindylover1969]

“What's the matter?” Sonja asked.

“Work,” Kristen said as she yanked on a pair of panties. “I'm sorry, but I have to go. Like, right now.”

“Work? FBI work?” Sonja asked, sounding curious.

Kristen winced. “I can't tell you. And no, I'm not doing this just to get out of here,” Kristen said, grabbing the key to the handcuffs.

“It's your room, it's not the smartest thing for you to do anyway,” Sonja laughed as Kristen undid the cuffs.

“I'm sorry. I really am,” Kristen said, not even glancing at Sonja as she got back off the bed and began looking for the rest of her clothes. “Maybe we can meet again next time I'm in LA.”

“You're coming back?”

“I don't know when, but I have unfinished business here,” Kristen said as she pulled on a pair of slacks.

Kristen was out the room and pounding on Tammin's door across the hall before Rhona even got off the bed. Before getting dressed, she crossed the room and opened up the designer leather wallet and smiled at her Mitra, Rhona driver's license right there in the front, complete with a picture that was only a year old. Oh, how close Kristen Bell had gotten.

Well, it was just too bad, Rhona mused as she looked around for her own clothes. She would've enjoyed fucking Kristen some more. She also would have enjoyed killing the little bitch, but perhaps another time. For now, she had to figure out what had Kristen racing to return to LA. Perhaps she'd given Beverley a quick call...

After she got dressed.

*   *   *

CODA:

The wedding goes better than expected. Dichen and Amy, while hungover, look radiant in their gowns, and the whole party is fantastic. JoAnna and Jason have to leave early, however, so that they can both go to work the next morning. That’s fine with JoAnna, who despite a lingering desire to get with her new friend, Jessica Chastain, knows things are going on up north that she wants to be closer for. They’re not home two hours before Ashley Benson breaks into the nightly TV for word that indeed, seven members of the San Fran Eight have escaped.

Tammin has to leave quickly, too, but that’s okay. Victoria has nothing left in Los Angeles except her job, and she could be a stripper in San Francisco just as easily as she could in LA. She goes to the Spectacular, gets her things, and quits before Charisma can even ask her if she can work that night. She never hears from Charisma, Adrianne, or Emmanuelle again. Victoria might never again take her clothes off for money, but she’ll never forget her time working at the club - it’s where she learned her true sexual identity, and where she met the woman she fell in love with. She goes right from the Spectacular to the bus station, and is riding north when news of the breakout hits.

Tammin, Beverley, and Kristen all meet at the LA FBI office, and sure enough get on a helicopter that flies them north. Only Beverley knows how close they came to solving the case of Kristen’s life. Kristen’s mind is on how she failed in Los Angeles. Tammin’s mind is on her new love, Victoria. Beverley spends the flight fantasizing about throwing Tammin out of the chopper. None of them know that as they approach San Francisco, they fly right over the hiding place of the women they’ll spend the next several weeks hunting again.

For the next few weeks, life in the Spectacular continues as it always has. Charisma pays the girls out of the money laundered by Rhona. Adrianne and Emmanuelle continue to sleep with each other, and pretty much anyone else. New girls come and go. Charisma sleeps with them all. But then the money goes away. The club falls on hard times, not getting the clientele needed to actually stay afloat. Charisma even resorts to stripping herself, but it’s not enough. Within six months, the club is closed, and sold to a Real Estate company in Nevada, a front for a new bunch of criminals and mobsters. A new manager is brought in, new girls are hired, new money is laundered. Oddly, the name remains the same. Long after the saga of the San Francisco Eight is over, the Spectacular goes on…

Back to the main event....

[Cindylover1969]

Right - back to the main event:

Previously on this thread - Evil Rhona Mitra brings together thief-turned-realtor Roselyn Sanchez, thief/killer Jaime Pressly, computer expert Grace Park, family crook Shay Mitchell, nude safecracker Emma Roberts, friend to all men Blake Lively and friend to all vehicles Megan Fox to successfully rob the San Francisco Union Bank (with a little present left behind in the bank’s computers), kidnapping TV reporter Hayden Panettiere, bank teller JoAnna Garcia and schoolteacher Lucy Hale in the process and taking them when they split the cash and just plain split, with FBI agents Kristen Bell and Tammin Sursok (under the eye of their boss Jessica Biel) hellbent on tracking down the gang and bringing down Rhona (while Tammin is unhappy about her job, and about how Jessica’s secretary Beverley Mitchell may have more to do with the criminals than it seems).  Lucy is seduced by some of the team while JoAnna finally gives in to her feelings for Shay and Hayden makes herself at home, unaware that her rival (and Mitra puppet) Ashley Benson has hospitalized her colleague/girlfriend Troian Bellisario and set her up to be arrested as part of the gang. Which she duly is, sentenced with the rest of the group to life imprisonment without possibility of parole. Now read on…
* * * * * * * * *
Monica Bellucci had the body of a goddess but the concerns of every other mortal being, such as having to wake up, battle traffic, and fight computers. At least she could do something about the second one by coming in very, very early.
She needed to get a jump start on work anyway; even though everyone at R.M. Housing had been just as stunned when the news broke about Roselyn as she had been, business was business – they hadn’t lost as many customers as feared, but it was still a bit tight. Monica believed in cycles, however, and as she got to the office entrance she knew that they would come out of this one sooner or later.
“Morning, Monica!”
The brunette’s mouth dropped – Roselyn Sanchez being a felon had been the biggest shock she had gotten in recent times, but Jennifer Lawrence not only being on time but actually coming in before her came a very close second. The gorgeous young receptionist had a smile as bright as her newly dyed red hair, and she was even working on transcribing a report to boot.

[Cindylover1969]

"Just wrapping this up, and then I'll have your first coffee of the day ready," Jennifer continued cheerfully.
"Uh...thank you," Monica replied, walking into her office.
Jennifer peered behind her to watch the boss walk in; she never got over how Monica couldn't help sashaying around the place even when she wasn't trying. Back to the typing...
Inside, Monica sat down to get her head into the game for the day; she would have to call back a couple of clients as soon as official opening hours started, and then she'd have to think about whether or not to look for another partner; the face of the business she may have been, but there were some people who Roselyn could handle better than her. It might be time for her to put some feelers out...
"Freshly ground!"
Coffee and two croissants were placed gently on her desk by Jennifer, leaning forward with a smile as she did. "This should perk you up," she added.
Monica had a view down Jennifer's top, but she knew she was talking about the coffee. Of course she was.
"I would be lying if I said it wouldn't help," the boss admitted as the receptionist stood by the desk. "It's been six months, and I still can't believe she did that..."
"None of us can," Jennifer said, edging a little closer. "But look on the bright side - she never robbed us."
"That's something," Monica admitted, sipping her coffee. "Ah, that's excellent."
"I do my best," Jennifer said, by now practically next to her boss. Her hand casually reached over to Monica...
"What are you doing?" Monica asked, glancing up at the girl.
"I'm... I'm just trying to get some fluff off your top," she said hastily, brushing the boss's top firmly. "See? All gone."
"There is no 'fluff' on my top," the brunette told her. "Ariana would have told me. I don't want any more liars in this office."
Jennifer nodded, deciding to risk it all.
"I did have work to catch up on, but that's not the main reason I came in early - the main reason is... you."
Monica eyed her. "Did you want a raise so badly you had to get me first thing in the morning?"
"It's nothing to do with money," Jennifer told her, trying to keep her hands from going through Monica's jet black hair. "It's just that... look, I like guys. I love guys, in fact. But there's only ever been two women to turn me on - Kim Basinger and you."

[Cindylover1969]

Monica looked the receptionist over; she was looking back at her as if she had front row seats at a Jason Derulo concert. The smile on her face was bordering on hunger, and if Monica had looked closer at Jennifer’s top she’d have seen two little bumps signalling erect and ready nipples.
“This is never going to happen again,” she told Jennifer, getting to her feet, “so cherish every moment of it.”
San Francisco could have been powered for a week on the light shining in Jennifer’s eyes as Monica, after coming in to kiss the girl, rested her hands on the receptionist’s shoulders and lightly ran them along her arms and down to the edge of her top. “I must admit I am glad to do this to someone,” she admitted, lifting off Jennifer’s top and pulling it over her head. “Ariana doesn’t like me to go first.”
Monica smiled in delight on seeing Jennifer Lawrence’s breasts; bouncy, nice and perky, not unlike their owner. “Did you leave your bra at home for this occasion?” she asked, lightly licking each of her nipples.
“Actually, I never wear a bra,” Jennifer admitted as the boss circled an arm around her waist, stroking her back and sliding down to the rear of her jeans. “I never wear panties either.”
It might have been coincidence that Monica’s hand cupped Jennifer’s ass tighter than either of them had expected, but it certainly wasn’t the reason Miss Bellucci immediately unbuckled the young woman’s jeans as Jennifer finally brought herself to touch her boss. DAMN, she really was hot – in every sense. Jennifer moaned as she felt Monica’s warm skin, finding the zipper at the back of her dress and pulling it down; within moments it slipped off her body and landed on the carpet along with Jennifer’s legwear, leaving the receptionist completely naked while Monica’s black, lacy lingerie retained what she laughingly called her modesty.
“Kim Basinger, you say?” Monica murmured, kissing Jennifer’s neck and shoulder blades as the young woman felt her breasts. “You like older women, I take it.”
“Only the hot kind,” Jennifer laughed, freeing Monica’s exquisite boobs and rubbing and squeezing them with delight. She rubbed her own rack against them, happy to hear her boss sighing when their nipples touched, before licking each of Monica Bellucci’s generous breasts. Even if the rumours that she’d had a kid or two were true, there was still plenty of milk inside her; Jennifer pressed her face between them and shook her head back and forth.
“This is the ancient ritual known as ‘motorboating,’” she giggled, ruining the attempt to add a touch of National Geographic gravitas to their fucking.
“You have beautiful legs, Miss Lawrence…”
“Thank you, but call me Jennifer.”
“…and if I give you a raise,” Monica continued, spreading her fingers into the hot, soaking bush between her receptionist’s thighs, “will you show them more often?”
“It’s a deal,” the redhead groaned as the brunette sank to her knees and gently pushed Jennifer onto her desk, lying half on and half off with Monica between her legs, lapping away with years of practice on her side. Oh boy, Monica had such a mouth on her; her tongue seemed to be everywhere at once, and with each touch of her tip Jennifer was shaking. Her hands never stopped exploring as much of the young woman’s body as she could get to, and Jennifer knew that no one – NO ONE – had given her love button the kind of pleasing sucking that Monica had. Ariana Grande was the luckiest girl in the world to have this woman in her bed at night.

[Cindylover1969]

There was only one problem – Monica’s ass. It was beautiful and it was perfect, but it was also still covered. As her cunt somehow managed to get warmer from her boss’s lip action, Jennifer vowed to do something about that the second she got off this table…
“Don’t worry,” Monica murmured between licks. “You will get to put anything up my culo you want to…”
“Not before I do.”
Underling and superior both whipped heads to the door; another young woman was standing there in a coat, holding a pouch and glaring at them. She was a total cutie and almost certainly had herself a banging body under the coat, but there was fire in her eyes that immediately told Jennifer that Monica Bellucci did not wear the pants in their house, figuratively or literally. As if the unsettled look on the face of the boss wasn’t enough proof.
“Enjoying yourself, secretary?” Ariana Grande asked Jennifer, fitting enough venom in that last word to kill an elephant.
“I’m not her-“
“And what did I tell you about snacking on other women?” the newbie continued, turning to Monica. “Okay, she’s cute but come on… I GET FIRST CRACK! ALWAYS! Remember the time in Barbados?”
“What happened there?” Jennifer asked, curiosity overriding anger; she didn’t like interruptions.
“Well-“ Monica started before wilting under Ariana’s glance as her lover flung the pouch down on the table, unintentionally missing Jennifer’s head.
“You forgot those at home,” she announced. “I came by to drop them off, but now it looks like SOMEONE needs a lesson.”
“Yes,” the Italian said meekly, starting to get up from between Jennifer’s legs. “I’m sorry, Ariana – I…”
“Stay on the floor. You’re right where I want you,” Ariana snapped, moving behind Monica. “And as for you, ho, how’d you like to get head from a real expert?”
Seeing how cowed Monica was before a girl who looked like she was still in school, Jennifer was about to say yes when the other redhead shook her head. “First YOU eat ME,” she added, her hand fondling the boss’s upraised, panty-covered rear end. “Come here.”
Jennifer got off the table and went over to Ariana, stroking Monica with pride in her eyes. “Take a look at this,” she said, pulling off Monica’s panties; Jennifer felt herself go all woozy on being exposed to her boss’s gorgeous ass.

[Cindylover1969]

“Nice, isn’t it?” Ariana said, seeing the visible drool on the receptionist’s lips. “And check this out…” She spread open Monica’s rump, allowing her and Jennifer to look up close at her open cunt and asshole; Ariana tapped them both. With a finger, in this case, which she poked into the higher entrance.
“Sometimes I fuck this one for hours. Too bad you’ll never get to know how good it feels… but you can have mine, and you better make me come.”
“She isn’t kidding,” Monica whispered.
“Ah, you love it, don’t you?” Ariana laughed as she let her coat fall. From the waist up she was still covered to Jennifer’s visible disappointment, but from below she revealed two very lovely legs and an equally nice bush, which the receptionist noticed didn’t match the curtains. “You’re the boss of this place, you can sit down all day to get over it. Now get behind me and get to work, Strawberry Shortcake. “
As Jennifer got up, she felt a stinging slap on her butt with the hand staying on the flesh long enough to have a squeeze. “Almost as nice as mine,” Ariana chuckled.
Resisting the temptation to give her a hickey deep enough to draw blood, Jennifer headed behind Miss Grande as the latter rapidly checked out the desk – she hadn’t brought anything with her so she had to improvise. PERFECT; Monica had that little paperweight shaped like an Indian, complete with the sculpted headband with a sculpted feather pointing up. Pleased that the boss hadn’t moved an inch, Ariana picked it up and licked it all over; she figured that she might as well lube it up a little this time.
Ariana might have slid the Indian into Monica’s lovely tight cheeks at the same time as Jennifer’s tongue touched the newcomer’s rear entrance, but if not it was close enough to make no difference. Monica’s loud gasp as the wooden sculpture travelled back and forth inside her cunt was matched by the urgency with which Jennifer grabbed Ariana’s thighs; no wonder Monica was so in thrall to this girl – being in slavery was worth it if she was able to eat such a sweet little ass sometimes. Jennifer’s tongue licked up and down the path between the girl’s asshole and pussy as if she couldn’t make up her mind, and honestly she really couldn’t. She had Monica Bellucci’s exquisite rear end in her mind all the time as she munched on Ariana, which wasn’t helping her pussy drip any less – Monica’s ass was one of those things you never forgot once you saw it.
In her mind Jennifer could see Monica gasping and writhing as the younger woman fucked her deep and hard; she let a hand stray between Ariana’s legs, and moved it further through the gap and reached up. Oh yes, there it was… her tongue flicked and licked harder as the receptionist’s fingers poked into Monica’s wet, warm, well-thatched cunt; she stroked and probed the boss as she munched on the boss’s wife.
“Nice going, red…” Ariana grunted. “I’ll let you play with Monica a bit more later if you make me come in the next five minutes…”
Jennifer rose to the challenge, doing her best to give Ariana her best tongue-lashing ever. On her knees she felt herself starting to soak onto the carpet as her face buried itself between Ariana’s pale, soft cushions, nothing on her mind but how deep and tender her asshole was. She found herself starting to scream into the deepest recesses of Ariana’s ass, licking and sucking away and enjoying how the woman was jerking back and forth as she ground against her boss.

[Cindylover1969]

“Ooohhh… oh yeah baby… you just keep sucking that ass, girlie...” Ariana thrashed in between Jennifer’s mouth and Monica’s mounds, as the air filled with a rising stream of lusty Italian words – what Monica was saying neither Jennifer nor Ariana could understand, but if it was the Italian for “Fuck me, Ariana! Fuck me HARDER! HARDER, DAMMIT, HARDER!” they wouldn’t have been surprised.
Feeling Monica’s pussy soaking her fingertips, Jennifer’s howls were muffled by Ariana’s seat; when her tongue made a quick return trip to Miss Grande’s cunt she was ecstatic to find it also definitely soaking, with a pleasantly musky taste. The moans Ariana was coming out with had “Mission accomplished” all over them, but Jennifer wanted to munch a little longer…
“Do you like… women in uniform…?” Ariana panted.
“Mmm… yeah…” Jennifer sighed, pulling her head back to look at how Ariana’s asshole was looking after her mouth had handled it. She’d worked on it long enough that something could pop in there without anything else required to lube it up, she’d bet – and soon she’d finally get to give Monica the treatment as she’d dreamed of ever since she joined.
“So do I…” Monica groaned.
From behind, Jennifer felt a hand resting on her shoulder. The gorgeous receptionist cracked a grin; round two was about to begin. The grin got wider when she felt another hand grab her wrist and slip a handcuff on; she loved a little RP.
“What’s the charge?” she asked demurely, turning to face the newcomer. “And is there any way I can get out of it…?”
“I’m sorry, Miss,” said the younger of the two officers standing there. “We’re straight, and you’re under arrest.”
“I know I am,” Jennifer said, playing along. She’d done the “cops saying they’re straight being turned by a hot young thing” game before. “But maybe we could… shorten the sentence?”
“Sorry, sexy,” Ariana grinned. “They’re for real.”
“Wh… what? There’s gotta be a mistake!”
“I’m sorry, Miss Lawrence…” Monica sighed, still lying on the desk. “And I won’t call you Jennifer, because no one who steals from my company is a friend.”
“I… uh… I… I DIDN’T STEAL ANYTHING!”
“Then how’d the 800 grand from RM Housing’s account end up in yours?” Ariana asked, in between shivers of delight – she may have been a thief but the girl knew how to eat ass and pussy.
“I don’t know – I swear! I was set up – I did NOT DO IT!”

[Cindylover1969]

“You have worked in a bank before, correct?” the older officer asked, both she and her friend doing a perfect job of ignoring the fanservice.
“Yeah, but I was a secretary there as well!” Jennifer protested.
“So you probably have some kind of knowledge of how their systems would work,” the younger one continued, ignoring her protests as well as the fanservice. “And if this was a mistake, why didn’t you come forward to your boss?”
“BECAUSE I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS HER MONEY, YOU FUCKING MORON!” Jennifer screamed as they took her by the arms. “Monica, I didn’t take it… you gotta believe me!”
“Why should I?” she asked, looking at her as the cops escorted her out. “You may be beautiful, but you’re also fired. I do not give second chances to thieves – I already made that mistake with my ex-partner.”
“Oh, by the way,” Ariana added with a wide smile, “I’ve had better head from guys. Work on it while you’re in jail.”
“GO TO HELL!” Jennifer snarled at Miss Grande before looking pleadingly at her boss, receding as she was dragged out still naked. “Monica, I swear to you I didn’t do it – IT’S A SET UP, PLEASE! I DIDN’T DO IT! I DIDN’T…”
* * * * * * * * * *
“…DO IT! I didn’t…” she finished plaintively as the dream ended, bringing her back to the reality of her prison cell.
Monica hadn’t believed her. She had even testified at the trial that Jennifer had had some money troubles and been turned down for a raise, both of which were true – but it was also true that Jennifer had accepted it and decided to wait until things got better. And there had been no way she could prove she had no idea how the money got there. Not for the first time, Jennifer wished she had the son or daughter of a bitch who had framed her right next to her – sometimes she imagined she’d be back in jail for murder, but at least this time she would definitely have done it.
“Hey, Lawrence – who’s this Monica? She sounds fun,” the blowsy blonde on the bunk above her said with a grin.
“Yeah,” Jennifer told Denise Welch, her cellmate for the past six months. “Yeah, she was.”
* * * * * * * * *
There were worse places for the Remy Hadley Correctional Facility for Women to be set than in the Sierra Nevada mountains; the winters weren’t that extreme, and the summers were… well, they were in California. But a prison in paradise was still a prison, even in summer, and even on a summer morning.
Shay Mitchell liked being awake early in the morning; always had been, from when she was a kid. She’d actually been awake for a few hours beforehand, out of bed long before her cellmate. Which was just the way she liked and wanted it.

[Cindylover1969]

Putting her and Blake Lively together had worked out fine for them; before lights out on the first night the blonde had admitted to Shay she was glad she’d drawn her.
“Why?” the coffee-coloured woman had asked.
“Because you were the only one of the bunch who never came on to me,” Blake had said with a relieved smile.
“I’m all about Emma,” Shay had told her.
“Yeah, I heard…”
That had been half-true; Shay was certainly in love with Emma Roberts, but both she and Emma had no problems at all with sleeping with other women. And she had let Blake take the top bunk for a reason – she rarely let a night go by without trying to take at least a little peek as the blonde climbed up to bed, and she never woke up without looking at the indentation in the mattress above her head. Sometimes she brushed a hand along the mattress, usually at around the point where Blake’s ass was, but this morning she was up, sitting by the window and letting her eyes go from the sunrise to the sleeping Blake, lying prone and slumbering.
Shay gradually spent less time on the sky and more on the lady, until finally she abandoned all pretence and walked over to the bunk, gazing on sleeping beauty. Blake was on top of the blanket, lying on her side and facing away from the wall, and her prison-issue nightdress – which was suspiciously short – was displaying a pleasing amount of leg, the better to please Remy Hadley’s male guards with. For an instant, Shay imagined she could pull off a repeat of that wonderful night last month…
No.  Even though she still had heated memories of the time she had managed to run her fingers through Blake Lively’s lovely trimmed pussy, letting the finger tips touch that perfect little lovebutton and even succeeding where Grace Park had failed by getting a close look at it, she didn’t dare go for a repeat. Shay knew her cellmate’s sleeping habits, and she knew when Blake was in a deep enough sleep that she could risk it; that, not any of the assorted excuses she’d given over the past six months, was why she liked to go to bed early.
Shay watched her chest rise and fall as she slept, wondering what or who she was dreaming about; probably dreaming of being free, like they all did at one time or another. She hoped Blake was thinking about being at a party entertaining some rich guy or other, so it would fit with what was coming up.
Brushing aside her tresses and lightly and slowly moving her hand down the blonde’s arm, Shay leaned in and gently kissed Blake’s neck and available shoulder; she knew that she had to be careful not to move her around too much. Rejoicing that it was warm, Shay caressed Blake; one hand was soon resting between her legs, the other lightly touching the blonde’s behind and wishing that it was a few hours later – the shower room was usually the only opportunity Shay, and most of the other prisoners, had to really examine Blake’s beautiful rump. If only she was sleeping on her front; Shay Mitchell had gotten the opportunity to slowly move back her cellmate’s nightdress, gently stroke the exposed cheeks and give the deep cleft between them a tender little kiss. But that had never happened again.

[Cindylover1969]

She contented herself with moving her fingers all over the sleeping blonde, probing and stroking as much of Blake’s exposed skin as she could while Miss Mitchell’s other hand reaped the benefits, fondling and fingerfucking herself. Shay noticed the swell of her breasts underneath her top, trying to lift the top up was too dangerous, but it was a lot safer to slip a hand underneath the edge of it, slide it up like a snake sloooowly….
The dusky woman sighed as her hand of choice found one of Blake’s chest-orbs, fingers fondling the nipple. She envied men, what with them having more of a chance to lick this than she ever would – unless Blake eventually got so at ease in Shay’s company that she decided to sleep in the nude, and she was under no illusions that that was EVER going to happen. Shay’s other hand sank between her legs as she explored the blonde, willing herself to keep silent – but Blake was a bit too hot for that to happen. Her breathing started to speed up as she practically bit herself to keep from giving in to the urge to throw caution to the wind and rip her cellmate’s clothes off…
Then Shay remembered that it was almost that time again. She removed her hand from Blake’s shirt as fast as she dared, her other hand soaking from her own cunt, and returned to her bed shaking and sweaty. It was not a moment too soon; she heard footsteps coming down the corridor, accompanied by someone whistling a cheerful little tune. It was Vance, one of the guards cursed with Y-chromosomes.
The whistling guard stopped outside the cell, unlocked it and went over to the table, bare but for a small jar. Shay, not bothering to pretend to sleep, watched as he took it, opened it and unzipped his pants. The dark-haired beauty wrinkled her nose as his brown, impressive-to-some-women penis came out and he covered it with the cream in the jar from tip to sac, walked over to the bunk, unzipping his pants as he climbed up to the definitely still asleep Blake.
He was out of sight but not out of vision; within seconds the top bunk started to vibrate, punctuated by Vance’s grunts as he pushed his rod in and out of the slumbering Blake’s ass. There were other, smaller sounds mixing with his own; not grunts, but little feminine gasps.
As Shay listened and tried not to feel envious, she wondered what would have happened if Blake hadn’t left the jar out for him, like she had practically every night. That was the sign for when she expected one of the guards to come in and help himself to some tasty Blake Lively dessert.
Shay waited for Blake to come/wake up with a mixture of guilt and regret; this wasn’t the first time she’d felt her cellmate, but it would be the last.
She’d told herself that before, but this time she meant it. After today she wouldn’t get a chance to break her word.
* * * * * * * * *

[Cindylover1969]

Silver-haired sixty-something lifer Helen Mirren met the eyes of dark-haired younger lifer Emma Roberts as they passed each other in the corridor towards the warden’s office, where the latter was being escorted by guard Maggie. Horny Helen, as the other prisoners dubbed her for her inability to keep from going after anything with tits (even by the place’s standards), gave the girl a knowing glance.
“Not in a million years,” Emma told her.
“I can wait,” Helen laughed. “Especially after the sneak preview you gave me.”
The now 20-year-old Emma had made the mistake of sharing a shower with Helen, and it had been the longest cleansing of her young life. Helen was watching Emma like a hawk throughout, and even though the older woman had never actually stopped cleaning herself Emma felt as if her hands were pawing her instead of rubbing the soap inside. She could practically feel Helen’s eyes panning up and down her naked body as if she was starring in a porn movie – she almost expected to hear sleazy saxophones or low-budget synths in the air.
And it wasn’t like she was the only unattractive convict in Remy Hadley who had the hots for her or the other members of the San Francisco Eight, either; Emma remembered the day they’d arrived and the way Blake Lively had visibly recoiled when someone who she later learned was called Sarah Jessica Parker commented on looking forward to sucking on the blonde’s rack. Emma also remembered cackling over Blake’s discomfort; she would never have imagined that she’d end up knowing EXACTLY what it felt like. Sympathy for the devil was one thing, but sympathy for Blake Christina Lively…?
One good thing had come out of all this, the safecracker reflected as Maggie escorted her into the warden’s office; ever since that first weekend she was basically protected property, one of the chosen few.
“Tell the big boss her Thursday regular’s in,” the Asian looker told the man behind the desk.
“Why is it always so early?” Emma asked Maggie as he did so.
“She likes to start the day right,” the guard replied. “Too bad you’re not British.”
“Oh, you like the accents?”
“No, but if you were she’d get sick of you sooner – off limits until then.”
“Awww, I’m so sorry,” Emma lied as the door opened.
The girl entered the warden’s inner sanctum, hearing the door shut and lock behind her. The second it was done, Emma turned around and rested her hands on the panelling, her legs spread as if about to be searched.
“You do that very well,” the warden said cheerfully. “But I think I do it better.”
Emma turned back to face Warden Kate Winslet, who was standing by the far wall in a similar position – only completely naked, presenting the young woman with plenty of prime pink rump.
“If it helps, you certainly do it better than Helen,” the warden continued as Emma approached her while shedding her prisoner uniform, knowing that on the other side of that lovely back were Kate’s heavy funbags. “I don’t know why I keep on with her.”

[Cindylover1969]

“Maybe you like English accents?” the girl asked as she pressed her now-freed crotch against Kate’s ass and wrapped her arms around the warden, making sure to get one forearm on the warden’s large, soft rack.
“Up to a point,” Kate smiled, turning her head to kiss Emma. “Up to a point.”
She then turned her whole body around, Emma enjoying the sensation as Kate faced her. The warden was full-figured, and a happily married mother whose husband trusted her around men, believing she’d never go near anyone who was interested in her. He was half right – she never slept with men, preferring instead to have her pick of the women and girls under her command. Whether it was because she was the warden and could make their life a living hell if they said no, or because she wasn’t the last warden (the reign of Warden Kathy Bates was not one anyone there wanted to remember), none of them had turned her down.
Emma Roberts caressed Kate Winslet’s milksacks. “I haven’t had breakfast yet,” she whispered, and bent her head, taking one of Kate’s large nipples between her lips and envying her kids (while hoping her daughter would grow up to look like her mother). The warden gently stroked Emma’s head as it lay there, slowly bobbing up and down as the young woman tasted the succulent tip, her hands roaming the warden.
Kate took Emma in her arms, lifting her off the ground and carrying her across the office to her couch. “It’s that time again,” she said, feeling Emma’s hands slipping down her back.
“I can’t believe he won’t do you in there,” the safecracker mumbled into Kate’s chest, pressing one of her fingers into the warden’s ass.
“He doesn’t like it,” she replied. “Ben’s strictly missionary. He won’t go down on me either; says he tried it once with his first girlfriend and didn’t like it.”
“Was it his fault she didn’t taste good?”
“He’s a good man, really,” Kate admitted, lowering Emma onto the couch and getting on top of her, looking at the girl’s lovely small boobs. “Just a bit… conservative.”
“The C word. Ouch,” Emma said, wrinkling her nose before they kissed.
Kate patted Emma’s side before getting up. “Make yourself comfortable and we’ll be set in a moment,” she told her, walking over to her cabinet and doing so slowly; Kate knew Emma was checking out her juicy behind, and loved it.
Emma WAS checking out her juicy behind. And loving it; the young woman’s slim digits moved between her legs, spreading her cunt lips and touching her little clit. Emma rolled it as she sat back on the couch, watching Kate open the doors of the cabinet to reveal several bookshelves, and three cameras – one on each shelf, all aimed towards the couch. The warden switched each one on checked to make sure their focuses were correct and that each had the lens zeroing in where she wanted in (one in a master shot, one closer focusing on the east half of the couch, the other going for the western side), and then strolled back to the waiting safecracker, now thrusting her fingers in and out of her pussy as her eyes went over the warden.