Cherrington Triumphs

"Oh she means how prostitution has cloaked itself in respectability over the past 100 years."

Margo, who appeared to be a rather stern person, gaped. Mike grinned and told her, "See I told you so."

* * *

Cherrington began working for Froggy Pond Independent Films the following Monday. The company, these days listed on the London Stock Exchange, was named after its founder, the late Sir Richard Marsh, who when twelve used his father's new movie camera to film frogs in a pond near his home in a housing estate in Liverpool.

Froggy's CEO, who'd been on holiday in the Swiss Alps when Cherrington had been taken around the studios at Shepherd's Bush during her induction, called her to his office to welcome her to the company.

"Hi Cherrington, lovely to see you again," smiled Conn O'Neill, a guy she'd met a couple of times at parties she'd attended with her former lover Lionel Ramsbottom.

They kissed.

"I'm glad you signed on here for the Pro Project (the prostitution doco)."

"Yes, I guess all my experience led to me being propositioned."

He grinned and said he'd heard she and Lionel had split.

"Yes I caught him asleep in bed with another woman."

Conn said that would have been a shock but perhaps not quite as bad as finding him with a bloke.

She grinned.

"Ah I can see you are over it. Perhaps I could date you from time to time?"

"You're married."

"Well yes, I continue to hang in there... there are no children and I want a couple of children. But perhaps I was not thinking sex, that I meant the occasion function mainly lunches when I'm expected to arrive with a partner."

"As you wish and I may as well say I'm not against being seen with you socially. I have to go and I have a meeting with Margo and time that's almost due to start."

"Bye Cherrington. Waggle a little for me as you walk to the door."

She waggled a little and though she was such a slut.

After the planning meeting chaired by Margo, Cherrington looked up details of Conn O'Neil on the company's website and found his family had come from Ireland some 120 years ago. He was thirty-three with a law degree and had been an outside director on the company's board and had been appointed CEO three years ago when the incumbent had been overwhelmed by difficulties in leading the restructuring of the company that included in bringing three different divisions under one roof and de-structuring them. His father was a banker, married to the younger daughter of a Baron, Lord Axton. Conn was a nephew of the company's founder, the late Sir Richard Marsh and Conn's wife Isobel was a fashion designer and they lived in Mayfair. Well everything she needed to know was there apart from the name of his dog, if he had one.

Cherrington wondered if she would accept if he did wish to date her. She thought not, because he was married. Then she thought if she were a slut she would accept and attempt to pull off his trousers.

Oh god.

She giggled and began reading the changes in the script, already made and appearing in red type, that had been agreed to at the meeting she'd just attended. Well Julie the meeting secretary was super-efficient.

The following week, after a meeting with the author, a prim and well really a rather disappointing woman to meet because she was devoid of color, Cherrington began to rewrite the script into a ''digestible and dynamic screenplay' that she'd been requested to do. Amelia Cousins, the author received each chapter as Cherrington completed reworking it and had gone through it with Margo, who of course looked at the rewritten passages as the filmmaker. Amelia then added her penny's worth but surprising she could see the changes made were mostly for dramatic effect, varying the pace of story-telling and expanding sections and even deleting other parts that to Cherrington had appeared to add little to the progress of the story.

Cherrington found that it helped that Amelia had been involved in theater in earlier days and continued to be an avid theater-goer and Amelia told her that's why she'd chosen to have the story told as a film rather than as a book.

"You could of course launch the book within days of the film being screened."

"You are very astute Cherrington," the author smiled. "This is why your studio has only film rights. Um I would appreciate..."

"It's your business Amelia, not mine. I'll not repeat with anyone what you and I have just discussed."

"Thank you sweet darling. Um I don't suppose you have um special relationships with other women?"

"No Amelia, I don't," Cherrington smiled gently. From that day the working relationship between the two women became better than ever. Cherrington had told Amelia that she knew a number of book publishers from having worked with Parker and Wallace Books and could set up meeting for Amelia when she was ready to lodge a proposal with a publisher.

Cherrington had found a pricey but roomy one bedroom flat within easy walking distance of the studios and although she had two flights of stairs to climb, the view was over a tiny park. She loved seeing children at play.

Conn O'Neill called her at home one evening.

"Hi, I'm visiting my parents this weekend. I'm inviting you to accompany me."

"What will your parents say if you arrive with me instead of your wife?"

"They could be surprised but it's been done before. My wife is busy attending fashion week and anyway doesn't get on with my parents."

"Why are you inviting me?"

"I'm attracted by your looks and style. Next question?"

She giggled and said that was sufficient. Very well I'll go with you."

"Are there any conditions?"

"No, should there be?"

He laughed and said she had style.

They drove to his parent's weekend home in Shrewsbury, Shropshire, in a red Jaguar that under questioning Conn said yes he'd purchased it off Lionel and his father had done a deal with Lionel as well.

"That guy could sell a calf to a cow."

Cherrington giggled.

"I suppose you have looked us up and are aware my mother is a daughter of Lord Axton?"

"Yes."

"Well it wasn't necessary to be that honest. This Friday afternoon traffic is a damn disgrace. Well you address her as any other woman. In fact forget that her father is a Baron.

They drove northwest almost 150 miles, through central England to the historic city close to the central border with Wales.

"I've read about Shrewsbury and seen it on film but have never visited the city," Cherrington said and Conn said he believed she'd love it, just as her parents would love her.

She made no comment.

"May I sleep with you tonight?"

"Yes."

The simplicity of the resolution over sleeping arrangements appeared to catch them both by surprise and they both remained silent for a couple of minutes.

Conn's parents greeted him lovingly and that gave Cherrington the belief that it must be his wife who was responsible for the decline in marital compatibility.

His mom said quietly when was Isobel due to appear in court and Cherrington heard Conn reply the charge had been dropped by the prosecution.

Jesus, what was that about?

They turned and Conn smile and said, "Mom, dad, this is Cherrington Vixen. These are my parents Terrence and Joanne O'Neill.

"Omigod you are the young lady who told the story about elderly couples being trapped on their family farms."

"Yes."

"And those novel book ads from a year or so ago?"

"Yes Mrs O'Neill. I love the look of your home."

"Oh do you dear? It's only our occasional weekend home but we love it dearly. In this fine home we feel a rich sense of history."

They went into a home that Cherrington felt sure was far too big for the couple and probably was four or five times the value of the homes of most London executives. How would she know that she had no idea? Intuition perhaps.

"Sleep wherever you wish dear," Mrs O'Neill said.

"Um would it upset you if I choose to share your son's bed?"

"No it would please me. He needs a new boudoir interest and to be away from that skinny drug-taking and superior-aired little bitch?"

Was that a reference about the dog? More likely Isobel the wife," Cherrington thought.

Beaming as he locked the bedroom door, Conn said, "I feel privileged you wish to spend the night with me."

"Well the truth is Conn, at our ages as relatively young adults, we do need to fuck."

He grinned and grabbed and kissed her and she melted into his arms briefly before slipping down a hand to cup his cock and balls.

"Omigod, what do we have here?"

"Take a closer look baby," he smiled and squeezed one of her breasts, expertly stopping on the brink of making her cry out.

"Do I need a condom?"

"Yes."

"Good girl. I guess we are both promiscuous people."

"Just a bit promiscuous."

"Yes and I am too. I'm used to wearing a condom because I have found I'd married a slut."

"Oh Conn."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't talk about her and am not seeking sympathy."

"Well have your way with me and be boisterous. I'm fit and prefer sex as full on action, especially the first round."

Cherrington gave a little gasp as he unzipped and pulled out his hardware. She believed it was the thickest and longest cock she'd seen. God fancy taking that up the butt!

Conn dropped his trousers and began jerking. She guessed he was waiting for her to respond. She dropped to her knees and he waddled over, his trousers still around his ankles.

She took half a pound of hot meat into her mouth, perhaps it was under a quarter pound but who cared? He bent over and ran both palms down the neck of her dress and under her bra and clamped both nipples.

They were already up but grew firmer in his almost painful squeeze.

Well that was it really, almost painful; he appeared to have the knack of going to the threshold. She felt like rolling on her back to feel his fingers take her to the threshold but she had no wish to disappoint him but not bringing him off in satisfying fellatio. She groaned and moved around a bit and sucked and dribbled and scraped with her teeth until she had the poor guy beginning to groan and he yelled "Coming" and she sucked on gamely and took the jets into her mouth and then allowed the semen to dribbled out the corners of her mouth. She looked up and saw him looking at her face in awe.

Well done Cherrington, she thought. A guy usually takes more than a passing interest in a gal who's a top cock-sucker. Well she'd been told that more than once.

"Shall we do it or do you want me to lick you?" said her red-faced and bright-eyed companion, still panting lightly.

"I'm ready to be fucked. Roll on your rubber."

He stood away and stripped and she stood and removed her clothes, noticing he stared at her firm body and was pleased she was trim with good contouring.

"Omigod."

She smiled at him, pleased that he was so pleased with her.

Cherrington leaned over the well-padded armchair, belly down, and was aware of Conn coming in behind her and felt his dick come against the now fat lips of her oozing pussy as he cupped her breasts and squeezed.

She was quite sure she'd never waited for a robust fucking quite as near-breathlessly as she was right now.

"Feed it in," he commanded.

She already had a hand resting under her belly. She lifted slightly and reached between her legs and steered the fat brute of a cock into her welcoming pussy.

Welcoming pussy? She decided under the circumstances of her high state of arousal it was an appropriate description and she expected her pussy to enclose around his thickness joyfully. Yes joyfully."

"Oh boy, am I going to love this," he said as his dick pushed in and he bent low over her and gently bit into the nape of her neck.

She convulsed into a small ejaculation but didn't worry. She was capable of delivering many more to please her man and expected him to lose steam well before she hit her limit.

* * *

Margo looked at Cherrington grimly and said, "I've heard that you have been seen socially in the company of our CEO."

"I could say damn lies but no, I am being dated by our CEO."

"I don't like this fraternization one little bit Cherrington. It could distract you."

"Okay then if I'm making you unhappy I'll resign."

"Don't you dare, we are too far down the track with this project and everything we have been doing is built around you."

"Then you are pulling your horns in about me spending time, my time, with Conn?"

"Yes."

"Thanks for being such a darling boss. You know we girls have to be fucked by someone."

"Oh god," Margo said, rolling her eyes.

A photographer caught Cherrington and Conn smooching in the early hours in a night club and the picture was splashed in one of the Sunday newspaper with the caption: 'Conn O'Neill, son of industrialist Terrence and Joanne O'Neill (former International equestrian Joanne Petrie), appears to discovering the merits of one of his company's recent recruits, the beautiful Cherrington Vixen, journalist and documentary presenter who also does the narrative. Miss Vixen is working at Froggy Films on a project still under the wraps.'

God one of her nipples was exposed, Cherrington smiled. Well that's why that grubby newspaper would have used that photograph.

Conn called her and apologize and she said it was okay and she thought it was quite a good photo.

"But it shows a nipple."

"Well I suppose that confirms you were not kissing a guy."

Conn laughed and said she was such a lovely person.

Early Monday morning Cherrington took a call.

"You stay away from my husband you slut."

The woman sounded so angry that Cherrington thought it really must be Conn's wife.

"Divorce him you cold-ass bitch," she said, and cut the call.

And hour later Conn called and said, "It appears you have been talking to my wife?"

"Yes and she sounded angry. I guess it was her reaction to that photograph in the newspaper."

"She said you bawled her out and yelled she should divorce me."

"Oh did I? Sorry. I counter-punch when attacked."

"She told me she'd sue you."

"Oh yes. She'd have a fat chance of succeeding."

"That's exactly what I told her any solicitor would tell her. Lunch today?"

"No we should keep out of the public eye for a time. Other newspapers could be on watch to try to scrape some dirt on to us."

"Then let's lunch together here in the staff café."

"Oh god, well okay. I guess you know what you are doing."

"We'll only be exhibiting our rights to associate together in public."

Cherrington was only too aware of the smirks around them as she sat with Conn at a table in the café. She'd never seen Conn in the café before. Then Conn saw Margo come from the counter with her lunch on a tray and waved her over to join them. The first thing Cherrington knew about that was when Conn stood and said, "Please join us Margo."

She froze and heard Margo say rather frostily, "Thank you Conn. So I guess this is confirmation day?"

"Yes Margo, I'm dating the adorable Cherrington and who can blame me?"

"Your wife for one and your mother for another."

Cherrington cringed.

"But mother called me yesterday and said it was a lovely photo but Cherrington was showing rather a lot. I believe it's called nipple slip."

Margo asked, sounding astonished, "Has your mother met Cherrington?"

"Yes and she and my father really approve of Cherrington and suggest I hurry along the divorce."

Cherrington looked up just in time to catch Margo gaping and Conn's impish grin.

She hurriedly changed the subject. "Have you told Conn of our revised schedule Margo?"

"What? Oh yes, what Cherrington is talking about it we are far enough advanced to begin filming in a fortnight, two weeks ahead of schedule and she suggests we make the media release about the project to newspapers this Friday because that will allow the Sunday papers to pounce and give maximum exposure on the project on a day when people have the most time to absorb information."

"What on Sunday when people go to church?"

"Conn," Cherrington smiled, "The majority of people don't regularly attend church. Margo and her contacts are already attempting to get the author Amelia and I interviewed on BBC-1 on Saturday evening as an exclusive."

"Wow if you can pull that off it will be great," he said. "I suggest get the author to remove the script and everything related to it off her computer and moved off the premises to a safe site in case of possible electronic tapping and break-ins by assholes working on behalf of newspapers."

"That won't be necessary," Margo said. "Our script is changed quite significantly from Amelia's original and anything the media would get from Amelia would be her research material of information that exists in the public domain. The value of what our filming will contribute is in the presentation, although the substance is based on Amelia's research and her script. She has nothing in her possession about our dramatization, although she has approved of what she has read here and signed off on each step of approval. We have everything here under tight security. As you well know Conn, a huge amount of company money is tied up in this investment for which the BBC has yet to decide to buy it from us."

Conn sighed.

* * *

Almost a year later the BBC was claiming its Friday and Saturday night two-hour feature in two parts titled, 'Prostitution Gains Respectability' would be hailed as a dramatic historic blockbuster and would probably stun viewers.

All the pre-publicity showed illustrations depicting sluttish-looking Elizabethan court wenches, plump Victorian women of the night or gaunt street prostitutes of the late 1940s with the word 'Superseded' red-stamped across their bodies. Below was printed the teaser, 'A film to screen on BBC that updates you on today's image of an ancient industry employing women that continues to update and enrich itself magnificently'.

The two nights of beautifully crafted cinema photography and powerful narration unfolded a dynamic story. Restaurants had many empty tables and cinemas reported reduced patronage during the two nights of screening.

Conn, who was keen to celebrate the divorce being granted, pursued by his wife who became keen to get a big wad of money, wanted to go to Spain to celebrate. Cherrington, however, wished to stay in Britain that weekend to deal with any media inquiries on the screening of the studio's epic film. They settled for staying four days in luxury in the famous seaside resort of Brighton.

They watched the Friday night screening in their hotel suite with another couple. Conn and the guy had been together at university and they'd met in the hotel bar. Graham, a merchant banker, was married to a celebrated musician but was having a dirty weekend away with actress girlfriend, Gayle Winslow.

The opening shot, devised by Cherrington, showed eight beautifully dressed and sophisticated women at a race track posing for a group photograph.

Cherrington in a voice-over challenged viewers, "Which of these women is a professional prostitute?"

The stunning answer was all of them.

They looked like the girl next door through to high society beauties who are always in the media, according to Cherrington, and she said that's what they were but they were still prostitutes of the modern kind.

She said the two-night series would follow their stories along with other personalities associated with prostitution but few used their real names. The camera suddenly zoomed in on a close-up of the first gorgeous woman.

Cherrington: Hi and may I ask you to identify yourself.

Woman No. 1: Hi Cherrington, I call myself Nina Owens and consider myself a professional companion to the rich and famous. But I guess, put crudely, that means I'm a prostitute because I rarely say no to being groped and I believe in being generously rewarded with cash when we're finished.