Models and Super Spies Ch. 06

"What's up there?" Trey asked, glancing in the direction Sarah and her man had gone.

"Ah, that's where the guests can go for some more… privacy."

"Ah, that's where the real action is," Trenton inferred, bouncing his eyebrows suggestively. "Honey, we should take a tour."

Liz rolled her eyes. "I'm going to get a refill. Want another?"

"Sure thing, Lizzy. Jack and Coke, but you can hold the Coke this time."

He watched Liz go, wondering who she was wiggling her little ass at. "She's gorgeous," Erin commented.

"So are you," he smiled, turning to the older woman. He knew from her profile that she was 35, but she was a very youthful 35. Only the small wrinkles around her sharp blue eyes betrayed her.

"Mmm, a charmer. I like that." She took a sip of her martini. "Do you really want a tour of upstairs? I can arrange that."

Trey laughed. "No offense, Erin, but no matter how nice this place is, our suite at the Four Seasons is far superior."

Erin nodded slightly, but added, "I'm sure, but I wasn't just thinking about you and your wife." She plucked an olive from her glass, rolling it on her tongue before crushing it between her teeth. Trey felt his cock flex.

"Actually, I've heard some things about you…"

"Yes?" she asked, cocking a strawberry blonde brow in interest.

"Yes. That you're the woman to talk to when it comes to finding beautiful… companionship."

Erin laughed. "Really? And a man like you, with a wife like that, needs help?"

He suppressed his blush. That wouldn't do. "When time is short," he winked. "Tomorrow night, for example. Elizabeth is flying home, but business is holding me here one more day. I was thinking…"

"Yes?" Erin asked innocently.

"A friend of mine mentioned a woman named Kelly. I was hoping you could help me find her."

Erin's smile grew even wider. "Ah, Kelly. Yes…"

"What?"

"She's a popular girl. Tomorrow night, you say? I think I may be able to find her… I assume you're not worried about rates and costs and such?"

"That's what I pay my people for," Trey big-timed. "My only concern is about having fun."

"I don't imagine that's much of a problem…"

"Not in the company of a woman like you."

Erin rolled her eyes. "You're staying at the Four Seasons under Dean?" Trey nodded. "When are you free? And were you thinking dinner, or just… straight up to your place."

"Would I be a gentleman if I didn't offer dinner?"

"Are you a gentleman, Mr. Dean?"

"Good point. How about my room, around 9."

"All night?"

"Always."

Erin giggled. "You won't regret it. Now, please excuse me. Time to be a hostess again. It was a pleasure talking to you, Trenton Dean." She placed a soft hand on his shoulder. Trey shivered, once again feeling a reaction between his legs. "And if you or your wife would like to see upstairs, find me."

As LA's infamous madam moved on, Liz's voice whispered over the comms, "You did good, kid. She ate it up."

"I think that's not the only thing she'd like to eat up."

Liz walked back into sight, holding their drinks before her. "You're a pig," she said when she was in earshot, winking.

***

Alexander Mishin sat at the bar, brooding over his glass of Scotch. Something was going on. He just couldn't put his finger on what. The feeling was in his gut; it was the same feeling he got when he uncovered the next cover girl, when he found the next diamond-in-the-rough. Something about Gabrielle. Gabrielle and Erin? Isobel?

A warm hand behind him drew him back to his surroundings. The bass of Condo's dance floor once again enveloped him. The din of the beautiful people around him returned. "Drinking alone?"

"I guess so," the Russian replied, swirling his glass on the bar top. The hand belonged to Michelle Park, whose fifteen minutes of fame still hadn't worn off.

He gave her a quick once-over. The Korean American was certainly hot, he admitted, particularly clad in the tight black tube-dress that stretched along her hard body. But she was no supermodel, despite the title she'd earned. She didn't have that… diamond quality.

"Mind if I drink alone beside you?" she asked, raising a playful eyebrow in his direction.

"I do," he said, signaling to the bartender. "But I wouldn't mind the company." He'd fucked her once, during a threesome with Gabrielle, and while she wasn't supermodel quality in his book, she certainly was fuckable. Besides, maybe he could do something about that nagging feeling he'd developed since he'd been with Isobel. Maybe she could give him a few clues.

"I'll have a vodka tonic then," she smiled, slipping up against him.

"How about having one upstairs with me?"

"Mmm… even better."

***

"What's upstairs?" Alicia asked Isobel as she took a breather from the dance floor. That last guy had his hands all over her and wouldn't take a hint, no matter how many times she moved them.

"Why do you ask?" the Spanish woman asked in amusement.

"Mr. Party Shirt asked if I wanted to check it out."

Isobel laughed at the name they'd come up with for the last round of gentlemanly suitors. The two of them had been there for close to an hour and had already gone through three sets of guys.

"That's where you can go if you find Mr. Right-for-Tonight."

"You mean…"

"…condos have bedrooms, too, you know."

"That's disgusting!" Alicia exclaimed, thinking of how many people must share the same, used bed. It felt worse than cheap. It felt out of place here, with all these celebrities around.

"Not everyone can get in. I seriously doubt your Mr. Party Shirt would have had a chance. I think he was in some soap in the 90s? But if you really wanted a go, I'm sure we could talk to Erin…"

"Talk to me about what?" an attractive, older woman asked, appearing out of the crowd. To Alicia, she looked oddly familiar, although she couldn't place her.

"Erin! There you are. I'd like you to meet Alicia Kennedy, Alex's latest model."

"Alicia, so nice to meet you again," the woman said, her smile showing a row of perfect, white teeth. "I believe we met briefly at the Green Fairy Lounge…"

The memory was still vague, but it seemed plausible. She tried not to dwell too much on that evening, and anything that came before the drugs and sex seemed hardly worth remembering.

"You've caught the eye of Gabrielle Dubois, in case you don't already know." Did she know something? Had she heard them in the VIP room? What was that sparkle in her eye?

"She's been shooting for Gabrielle's new scent, so I think she's got an idea." The brunette turned to Alicia. "Erin runs this club, the Green Fairy downtown, and a few others around LA."

She runs it? She runs the Green Fairy? Then she must know what happened there…

"It's nice to meet you," she said bashfully, quickly adding, "again."

"Would you like to see upstairs?" The woman laughed at Alicia's startled look. "A quick tour. Come on, it's my favorite thing about this club."

Isobel nodded her head to Alicia, urging her to go along with it. Reluctantly, the blonde followed Erin Small into the back. She looked back, surprised that Isobel was staying behind…

***

Alexander used Erin's suites whenever he pleased. That was one of the many perks she gave him. In exchange, he looked the other way when it came to her other… business excursions.

"Vodka tonic?" he asked, crossing the contemporarily furnished living room to the fully stocked bar. Michelle didn't respond immediately, and when he turned back, he discovered why.

"A vodka tonic would be lovely," she said, posing for him in nothing but a g-string and her platform heels. She'd discarded her small black dress on the cherry, hardwood floors. "Although I think I'd rather drink your cum."

Alex laughed at her forwardness. "A girl who likes to get right down to business. I can get behind that." He leaned against the counter, watching the olive-hued Asian saunter across the room. Half-way there, she hooked her thumbs into her panties and stepped out of them.

"I hope you can… get behind that…"

The girl's naked body was even better than he'd remembered. Her full breasts still sat high and perky with all the grace of youth, and her velvety smooth pussy was already wet with anticipation.

Michelle dropped to her knees before him without so much as a kiss on the lips, quickly unzipping his trousers and fishing out his up-turning cock. With one quick glance -- the kind a sculptor gives when sizing up an unformed block of clay -- she practically lunged forward, taking the engorged member deep into her throat.

Alex had to grip the edges of the bar behind him as her skilled mouth glided away. The probing could wait a little, Alex reasoned. For now, he'd have a little fun.

***

"'Upstairs' is our version of the VIP lounge. Lounges, I guess," Erin explained on their way up the stairs. "Condo is all about intimacy. And sometimes, a celebrity or a high profile guest wants an even more intimate setting than the public rooms. A home away from home. You know?"

At the top of the stairs was a wide hall, lined with alternating, beveled doors. Each were numbered as though this were a true condo complex, although one that Alicia could never afford. At least not yet…

"That one there is the Lohans'," Erin said as they walked down the hall. "That's Paris's, although they sometimes share." She pointed to one that didn't have a number but a little bunny head. "That's Hugh's, but he's rarely there. It's mainly for his girls." Alicia nodded, still a little shocked as she thought about what all these celebrities must do behind the doors. Were they doing it now?

"And this one's mine," she said, stopping at the last door on the hall. Number 01. "I'll readily admit that I chose the biggest suite, but why shouldn't I?" She winked at the blonde, fishing out a silver key and opening it quietly. "Hope no one's home…"

The door opened into an enormous living room -- two times the size of her own. The floors were glossy cherry wood. The rich looking furniture was dark wood, stunning against its white upholstery. It was like a page out of a Crate & Barrel catalog -- although Alicia got the impression that this room cost a whole lot more.

"Well, well, looks like someone's been sleeping in my bed," Erin whispered, reaching down and picking up a discarded black dress. The blonde's breath caught. She quickly searched the room, but it was empty. A tiny g-string sat on the floor in the middle of the room. It looked like whoever was there had begun to fix a drink at the bar, but had left that behind, too.

Erin quietly crossed the room, nudging the panties with her toe. She put a finger to her lips for quiet, then pointed to the bar once again. In addition to the open bottle of Stoli, there was a round mirror, an unrolled bill, and a credit card. A pink baggy sat just off the mirror.

"Looks like we're crashing someone's party," the older woman murmured, stepping up to the counter. She picked up the credit card, reading, "Alexander Mishin," for Alicia's benefit.

The blonde felt her cheeks go red and her heart flutter. He was here? She glanced toward the closed doors that led to… bedrooms? Was he in one of those? As if in answer, the two heard a loud cry pierce the stillness of the room -- the unmistakable sound of feminine pleasure.

Erin poured some of the powdery contents of the pink baggy out onto the plate and carved them into two rows. Alicia felt her mouth go dry. Her entire body was tingling. Get out, get out, get out! a voice cried. This isn't you, this isn't right.

The strawberry blonde woman re-rolled the bill and quickly did a line. She sniffed sharply, rubbing her nose and licking her lips. She handed the bill to Alicia, who took it in her unsteady hand.

This time, Alicia didn't have a choice. Erin wasn't some bimbo model. And she wasn't some silly slut like Michelle Park. She didn't want to see that judgment in Erin's blue eyes. This time, she took the bill, leaned over the mirror, and snorted her first line of cocaine.

Life would never be the same.

"Come on, let me show you another reason I love this place," Erin whispered, grabbing the blonde's hand even before the chemical buzz hit her. When it did, the older woman was unlocking one of the doors, pulling her into a dark room without any windows.

Fuck, she felt good. It was like all her insecurity, all her doubt, was washed away. In the darkness, she felt empowered. "This is the viewing room," Erin said, no longer whispering. "Don't worry, it's sound-proofed."

She pulled open a black curtain. Alicia's breath caught once again. This time, however, the overwhelming feeling was jealousy, not nervousness. "That bitch," she muttered.

On the bed, facing the two-way mirror, were Alex and Michelle. Erin flipped a switch and the room was filled with the couple's loud fucking. The Asian model was dewy with exertion, her sinuous muscles dancing as she flexed and gyrated in Alex's lap.

"Don't like her?" Erin asked, turning her amused look away from the show before them.

"I can't believe he'd fall for a skank like her," Alicia whined, aware that she was saying things she normally reserved for her inner dialog.

"Well, Alex isn't the most selective of men," Erin said, strolling back to Alicia's side. "But, if you'd like to get back at her, I know one way…"

Alicia shivered as she felt the other woman's soft fingers trace down her bare back. She wasn't suggesting… and how could that be a way of getting her back…

"You're so beautiful, Alicia." The compliment hung in the air between them. The blonde didn't dare move, instead focusing on Michelle's full breasts as they bounced with each thrust. She licked her lips as her eyes fell lower, to the way Alex's swollen balls hung and the way his cock sliced into the Asian's hairless cunt.

"She has a boyfriend, you know," Erin whispered. "A guy named Tony… who's about as discriminating as Alexander there. Catch my meaning?"

Alicia licked her lips. A revenge fuck. But could she do that? Her skin formed goose bumps at Erin's touch. "Want me to set it up? He's just a phone call away…"

"I…" She wanted to do it. Especially if the Tony was the one at the party. If this bitch thought she could fuck her Alexander, isn't turn-about fair play? Her Alexander?

"You need to get fucked, sweetheart."

"OK. Yes. Why not?" Saying it felt good. Not right, exactly, but good. Like the drugs. Good enough that it didn't matter if it was right or not.

Erin had her cell phone out immediately. "Hey, Tony. This is Erin… Yes, you, too," she laughed. "Listen, I've got a friend that could use a little help… Yes, of course she's hot! Can you meet us in the disco room? Great!"

She snapped the phone shut. "Come on, let's go!"

***

Trey and Liz were doing their final rounds, making sure that Erin saw them once again. Trey stirred in his pants every time the blue eyes of the hostess looked his direction. Tonight would be yet another night of jerking one out. He was so wound up he felt like he could punch through a wall.

"A water please," he said, leaning against the bar. They'd danced a few numbers, but Trey wasn't much for dancing. Even in the "Trenton" persona, he couldn't get beyond that. They'd been standing all night, though, and with the long plane ride earlier that day, he felt stiff.

"You've really impressed me, Trenton," Liz said, leaning next to him on the bar, but facing out. He glanced at her, sneaking a peak into her freckled cleavage. Yeah, he could definitely punch through a wall. "You've gone above and beyond."

"Well thank you, Elizabeth." He gulped down the plastic bottle of water, offering her the last half.

"Thanks," she said, wiping the sweat from her brow. Her strange dark hair stuck to her forehead. "It's definitely hot in here…" The way her voice trailed off didn't sound right. If he didn't know better, that was the closest thing to a choke he'd ever heard from the espionage expert.

"What?"

"Don't move. Stay where you are. And… try not to react…"

"What is it, Liz—abeth…" He did as he was told, although forcing himself not to look was excruciating. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the short girl's eyes locked onto something.

"Barkeep, two shots of tequila!" the guy next to him asked. Trey could smell his sweat beneath the heavy waft of cologne. "And none of that lime, salt shit."

Trey laughed at the guy's machismo. He turned to say something in passing, a friendly guy-to-guy comment, but the words died on his lips. There, standing not three feet from him, was his wife.

At least, he thought it was. She sure wasn't acting the part! Trey had never seen the outfit she wore, and in any other situation he would have to pick his jaw up off the floor if she walked out of the bedroom like that. Instead, the feeling was more akin to being punched in the stomach.

The black apron halter-top didn't leave much to the imagination -- including the precise location of her erect nipples or the flatness of her washboard stomach. And those jeans… if she had any pubic hair, it would have been showing over the extremely low waistline.

Yet it was the way she practically hung off the young, handsome guy with the cologne that really added mustard to the blow. The way she looked at him, her warm brown eyes swimming with need. And the way his hand rested on her ass like it belonged there.

Liz touched his hand, bringing him out of his staring match. He felt his fist clench as the two shots arrived. "To an unforgettable night," the guy toasted, slamming the potent liquor back. Alicia followed him, shooting it quickly, although with less practice.

The stranger collected Trey's wife in his arms and pulled her against him, their lips meeting in a flagrant, passionate kiss. Trey felt bile rise in his throat, but willed it down.

"Let's go," Liz whispered. If they stayed any longer, it wouldn't be a wall Trey would be punching through. The redhead had to pull him back before he could raise his fist.

"Let's go upstairs," the guy said to Alicia. Trey chanced a look back, seeing his wife blush. Did she hesitate? She glanced around the bar, seeing if anyone heard. His heart froze as her eyes skipped right by him. His disguise held. If only for a moment.

He watched her nod her head. He watched the man take her hand and lead her into the back. Towards "upstairs." Again, he felt ill. Again, he held back the vomit. The tears.

Composed, the two made it into the night air. Once again, Trey was a changed man.

***

Michelle Park was flying high. Really high. She had no idea how many orgasms she'd had, but who the fuck was counting anymore? Why bother when she had this beautiful man's cock filling her.

She was on her back now, her legs pinched up over Alexander's shoulders as he drilled into her pussy. She growled as she felt another climax well up. Sucking him off had been brilliant, but so were most of the things she did in life, right? He was able to last so much longer now. Take her so much harder.

"Fuck me, baby. Fuck my hot pussy," she moaned. Michelle loved to talk dirty. She knew what it did for guys like Alex. Stroke their ego and they'll stroke you back.

She ran her fingers through the man's tussled blonde hair. He was nearly there. She could tell. Could see it in his sparkling blue eyes. His heavy balls slapped harder against her tender sex, forcing a heavy grunt with each thrust. "You're close?" she begged, hysterical.

"Yesss," he hissed, his face tightening into a cringe.

"Do it!" she snarled, crossing her ankles behind his head and yanking. The weight of his body compressed her even more, driving his cock deep into her cunt.