Written by (in order of appearance) Rawballz, Evil, TRL and Victor Field
* * * * * * * * * *
You know, we really have to get the definitions of “chain story” (which these things technically aren’t) and “collaboration” (which these things really are) sorted out. This is the first of a four-part miniseries about a ragtag group of ladies pulling a caper, and the consequences thereof – it was basically Rawballz’s idea, hence Roselyn Sanchez. So even though circumstances mean his contributions don’t extend much beyond the basic premise and introducing Miss Sanchez, Rhona Mitra and Jaime Pressly, this story likely wouldn’t even exist without him.
It goes without saying that the ladies in this story, though real, are here in AU versions – and they’re all fictional. They don’t really indulge in webcams or rob banks, and they certainly don’t kill people. And what with it featuring violence, sexual themes (well, duh) and strong languages, it’s not intended for under-18s or those over-18s with sensitive feelings (in which case why are you even here?), or for anyone who can’t stand the cast of “Pretty Little Liars.”
You can put your praise or complaints on the boards; you can even send praise or complaints to the authors themselves, if you so desire, although since there are four of them involved and their email addresses aren’t included this time it might be tough. Anyway, enough preamble, time for our feature presentation…
* * * * * * * * * *
There could not be a better place to be. Roselyn looked around in complete astonishment at her surroundings. The grass was greener, the cloudless sky was bluer than she had ever seen before. The beautiful songs sung by the birds sounded sweeter than ever. Every single flower’s pedals opened up to greet her as she walked by. The light breeze gently flowed through her long, black hair. There seemed to be not another soul around as she followed the narrow trail deeper and deeper into this magical land. She was naked as the day she was born, but it seemed okay. It felt like it would be a disservice to this lovely land to hide your own beauty from it. She had nothing to hide, and who would hide from this heaven?
The winding trail soon opened up to a clearing with a dreamlike brook cutting through the earth. Roselyn sauntered her way over to a large, smooth rock, sat down, and dangled her feet into the water. The cooling sensations of the brook ran pleasant shivers all over her bronze body. Her eyes slowly shut, and her she began to drift off into a deep slumber. Suddenly, she felt a few raindrops falling onto her. Her eyes opened again, and as the rain gained tremendous momentum, she saw that the rain was red. Startled, she maneuvered to escape off the rock to seek shelter. A hand from the bloody river suddenly grabbed her around her right ankle. She tried to scream, but her voice was paralyzed in complete fear. The man raised completely out of the creek, and glared at Roselyn. She recognized the man, she thought just before a pair of arms nabbed her from behind.
Roselyn awoke in her bed with the bed sheets twisted around her legs, and her wife-beater t-shirt covered with sweat. Her heartbeat began to slow down to a normal pace again. Back to reality, and back to the adobe home she shared with her partner, Alicia. Back to Albuquerque, New Mexico, and back to her life. It wasn’t quite like the heaven she dreamt of, but neither the hell that it had quickly turned into. She heard the water running in the shower, and the sound of brushing teeth, as she sat on the side of the bed trying to gather her thoughts. “Finally awake?” Alicia asked with a smile, and her lips coated with toothpaste foam.
Roselyn arose from the bed, and walked into the bathroom where Alicia continued to brush her teeth. “Are you okay, Popi?” Alicia asked.
“I’m fine, just a strange dream,” she responded, as she bent over to drink from the faucet.
“You want to talk about it?” Alicia asked as she wrapped up her teeth scrubbing.
“How’s Joshua?” Roselyn asked, completely dismissing Alicia’s inquiry.
“He’s good. Ate like a bandit, and now he’s fast asleep back in his crib.”
Roselyn stood in front of the sink, blankly looking at her reflection in the mirror. Alicia slowly sauntered up behind her, and gently wrapped her arms around her abdomen. “Are we okay?” Alicia whispered into her ear.
Roselyn smiled, and rubbed her hands over Alicia’s encompassing arms. “We’re great.” Roselyn paused. “I’m sorry, I just feel grimy.”
“Care to join me in the shower?” Alicia smiled slyly at Roselyn in the mirror.
“You get it warmed up. I’ll be in there after I brush my teeth.”
“I’ll get it hot and steamy,” Alicia giggled and kissed her on the neck.
Alicia dropped her robe, and headed into the shower. Roselyn stared at her nude body as she walked behind her, and disappeared behind the curtain. It was hard to believe that only six months had passed since Alicia gave birth to her son, Joshua. It was even harder to believe that her body looked as good as it does after that process, Roselyn thought. The two of them met only another six months before the birth. While their relationship was not based upon pity, Roselyn couldn’t help but feel a little for her. Alicia was over three months pregnant when they met. Having been dumped by the father, alone, and confused, Roselyn really admired Alicia’s strength to possibly raise a baby on her own. Alicia had never been with a woman before Roselyn, and that was one thought that gnawed at the back of her mind. Did Alicia really love her like she professes she does? Was she only with her because she was a helping hand in her troubled state? Too many questions,
but not serious enough to bring up in conversation. Maybe it was just in Roselyn’s state of mind about not being able to fully trust another person. Maybe it was because of the secret life she has hidden from Alicia, and was projecting the mistrusts onto her mate. These were thoughts she would have to work out on her own, she knew that.
Roselyn peeled off her damp undershirt and pulled down her black panties before stepping into the shower with Alicia. “Are you working today?” Alicia asked with her back turned toward Roselyn.
“Yeah, I need to get something done before the mortgage payment is due again,” Roselyn replied while soaping up Alicia’s back.
“You know, I can always double on my piano students,” Alicia spoke as she turned to face her, while letting the hot water rush down through her hair.
“That won’t be necessary. I have plenty of worked backed up for me to rifle through.”
Alicia smiled, “Your investments, huh?”
“Yeah, I have some good leads,” Roselyn replied without making eye contact.
“Well, what kind of investments?”
“The usual: Beachfront properties, mango farms, soap production…” Roselyn began to trail off as she rubbed the soap over Alicia’s breasts and stomach. “Vaginal stimulation,” she added as her soap-filled hand found its way between Alicia’s legs to her honey pot.
“Mmmmmmmmm. I like the sound of that last one.” Alicia whispered and lightly bit her bottom lip. “Can you show me how to invest in that?”
“You already are,” Roselyn responded with a wicked smile.
Alicia leaned over and kissed Roselyn on her awaiting mouth, as her hands cradled her breasts. Roselyn continued to soap her dripping wet pussy ever so gently with the bar of Zest, with the tips of her fingers massaging her outer labia, and occasionally tickling her anus. A quick wave of pleasure rolled through Alicia’s body, as she worked her busy lips down Roselyn’s neck and toward her chest. Alicia circled Roselyn’s areolas with her feisty tongue and lightly bit at her nipples. Roselyn quickly returned the playful biting by squeezing her teeth down on the left side of Alicia’s neck. A low groan escaped her lips, as Roselyn licked her way down to her bare shoulder. Roselyn’s hands soothed their way around massaging Alicia’s hips, and her fingernails lightly scraped around them to her tight ass. With a hand on each cheek, Roselyn spread them apart, leaving her open asshole vulnerable to the warm, falling water. Instinctively, Alicia knew
what this meant and followed accordingly. She turned around with her back facing Roselyn again and bent to a ninety degree angle, placing her hands on the sides of the tub for support. Roselyn grabbed the removable shower head and ran the hot water down her back until it reached Alicia’s fully displayed ass. Roselyn knelt down behind her and watched closely as the waterfall caressed over her light brown cheeks and puckered asshole. Alicia bit onto her bottom lip in anticipation.
Roselyn’s magic fingers massaged and kneaded Alicia’s ass cheeks firmly, grabbing up handfuls of the wet, rounded skin. She briskly backhanded the inside of Alicia’s right thigh with her right hand. “Up!” Roselyn demanded. Like a good newbie just learning the ropes of the submissive lesbian, Alicia promptly lifter her right leg and placed her foot on the edge of the bathtub. “Good girl,” Roselyn smiled. Alicia was now completely open for business. She placed the shower head on Alicia’s back, with its head pointed back at her so the water continued to flow down her awaiting ass. Roselyn reached forward through Alicia’s wide opened legs all the way to her dangling breasts. She pinched and flicked at her fully erect nipples, then slowly retracted her hand down her nude, soaked body. Over her abdomen and down to her pelvis, then stopping at her clitoris where her long fingers began to apply just the right amount of pressure. Alicia moaned
as the thoroughbreds of pleasure galloped through her body. Roselyn then pushed her left index finger carefully into Alicia’s asshole. Her ass muscles tightened instantly, but then relaxed. Roselyn buried her face into her backside, and hungrily lapped at her quivering pussy. “Gyyyuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Alicia bellowed into the four by four inch bath tiles in front of her face. Her arms and legs shook feverishly, as she came quick and hard onto Roselyn’s tongue and mouth. Alicia tried to catch her breath, as Roselyn helped her back to her feet. She tenderly held the shaking beauty in her arms, kissed her on her trembling lips, and whispered to her, “Now it’s my turn, mi hermosa flor.” Roselyn spread her legs, and pushed Alicia down on her knees.
An hour later in downtown Albuquerque, Roselyn walked out of the bank after making a much needed transaction. She could feel her pulse race and her blood pressure soar every time she came here, or any banking establishment for that matter. The old days; although the jobs were extraordinarily stressful and uncertain at times, there was no other time that her mind was more clear. It just came naturally for her to rob, especially banks. Roselyn could feel the thrill of it still deep inside her, although it had been three years since that botched job in Omaha. The demons still chased her about that those fateful minutes that she had to take the life of that man. Roselyn had always made it a rule not to kill unless it was completely necessary and there was no other alternative, but she knows that he didn’t have to die. If only Jaime would have…
Roselyn’s train of thought suddenly derailed as she saw a person leaning next to her F-150. Like a ghost from her past, Rhona Mitra was there before her very eyes. “Surely, this must be trouble,” Roselyn thought to herself and made the sign of the cross.
“You lost?” Roselyn asked her, avoiding eye contact.
“Oh my dear Popi,” Rhona smirked. “I told you that you wouldn’t see me again until I found the perfect job.”
Roselyn stared at her, and although she could sense the uncertainty, the itch of the thrill filled her very soul.
* * * * * * * * * *
Chicago, later that night. In the master bedroom of an upper-class house in a upper-class neighborhood, a man in his mid-forties, and his wife in her late thirties both lay on their bed side by side, blindfolded and naked with their hands bound together behind their respective backs. The man’s right foot was tied to one bedpost, while his left foot was bound to his wife’s right, and her left was tied to the other bedpost. Both of them were gagged properly as only a professional could do. Both of them laid there in fear, not knowing what would become of them next. The entire house was in a state of complete chaos. Drawers had been gone through, closets emptied and the safe’s door opened. Jaime Pressly walked back into the dimly lit bedroom wearing nothing but her tight-fitting black lace bra and panties, and her I-Pod headphones on with the device tucked neatly into the side of her underwear. She playfully danced her way over to the bed with Barry
White singing in her ears.
Jaime stopped wiggling her hips and stood at the foot of the bed, just staring at the couple. The brightness on her face, turned suddenly into a disapproving glare. “Y’all, I’m really sorry about the position y’all are in, but you did kinda force my hand a little bit, y’know? I mean, I pride myself on stealin’ from rich yuppies like yourselves. I’m certainly not sorry about that, but like, I know it must be humiliating and all to be naked and tied up like this. At least you can be thankful that I didn’t go ahead with my original plan of hog-tying y’all, right? That’s very uncomfortable right there, speaking from experience.”
Jaime giggled at herself and hopped up on the bed on her knees between the husband’s legs. She then unhooked and then shrugged off her bra. “Here’s what’s gonna happen next though. I gotta tell you, I get real famished after an event like this. Y’know, just so hungry, and I got to admit, it gets me just a little horny as well.” Jaime looked over at the bound wife. “I’m gonna suck your husband’s cock, little Mrs. Housewife, m’kay? I don’t really dig on the beaver that much, but don’t you worry. I may throw you something a little special too now.”
As much as the man wanted to fight it, he couldn’t help but achieve a half erection at the words that so easily poured out of his captor’s mouth. Jaime laughed, “Ma’am, I think he’s already looking forward to this.”
After the words exited her face, Jaime wrapped her entire mouth around the man’s cock. Her lips pressed up around the base of his manhood, and her tongue swirled circles around the shaft and head of his dick for about thirty seconds. The man grunted loudly into his gag, as Jaime lifted her head and mouth off of his lap. His cock was fully erect now, and even pulsating with hot blood inside. Jaime smiled, “You about to shoot your load already?” She cupped the man’s tight scrotum and massaged it with one hand, and began masturbating his penis with the other. He moaned louder and louder until the stroking of his cock became too much to bear, and he came into Jaime’s well-timed and open mouth.
“Lookit you, Quick Draw McGraw!” she barely uttered with the cum hot in her mouth. Jaime shuffled off the bed and walked over to the side where the wife laid. She pulled the gag out of her mouth and forced her mouth open. Jaime leaned over and with her lips just hovering an inch over hers, she spit the cum into the wife’s mouth. She was a good sport and let her swallow before giving her a deep kiss, and replacing her gag.
Already thirty miles outside of Chicago, Jaime’s Mustang zoomed down the interstate heading now to God knows where. The familiar ringtone was barely audible over the country music playing on the radio. Jaime quickly turned the music down and answered. “Yeah!” she shouted in her usual way.
“Blondie, I have a job for you.” Rhona spoke.
“Hell, girl just point me in the right direction!”
Jaime chatted with her just a few moments longer, before looking at her fingernails and knowing it was going to be a bitch to remove the blood that was coated underneath them.
* * * * * * * * * *
Shay Mitchell stood in the center of the campus of the University of Southern California. She outstretched her arms and took a deep breath of southern California air. She sighed and looked up at the stature of the USC mascot, Tommy Trojan, near the center of campus. This was the perfect place to start over with a new life.
Shay walked past the floral arrangement in front of Doheny library and even stopped to admire the bushes that were cut to spell out U-S-C. As Shay stopped to take it all in she thought to herself about how exciting her new life would be.
Another reason she stopped was who was approaching her, both girls were tanned with long blonde hair and both wore tight fitting sorority t-shirts that clung to their bodies in a way that made Shay stop and admire for the briefest of moments. As both girls absent-mindedly walked past Shay, the brunette looked at them as they walked away. Her eyes went straight for their asses swaying back and forth in their skirts, Shay let out a quiet moan to herself as she turned back to Doheny.
Shay knew she had to control her lusts, she didn’t want her sexuality getting out on her first day. Never mind what would happen if her family found out. Shay’s beeping cell phone brought her out of her haze, she had to meet with her faculty advisor. She closed her cell phone and made her way toward Popovich Hall. Economics and business was something that always fascinated Shay and she hoped that she could make a go of it here at USC.
As she entered her faculty advisor’s office and pulled off her light sweater, it was hot enough in SoCal she mused, she didn’t need to be any hotter.
And hot was exactly what Shay was as she looked herself over in a mirror, her exotic features, her long dark hair and bronze skin would make her very popular on campus. Shay smoothed out her short skirt and pulled it down her shapely legs a bit more to be more presentable for her first meeting with her advisor. She had been on campus for nearly a week now and had yet to plan out her future studies with her advisor.
She took a breath and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” came the voice from the other side.
Shay entered the room and smiled.
“Ah, Miss… Fields. Emily Fields is it?” asked the beautiful counselor.
“Yes, Emily Fields.” Shay said with a smile on her face as she sat down.
“Rhona Mitra,” the woman said by way of introduction. “Now, your file says you’re here at USC to study… economics?”
“Yes, economics. My family are all engineers so I didn’t want to go into the family business. I wnted to try my own thing.” Shay said nervously smiling. She marveled at Rhona’s beauty, her long dark hair and striking features. Shay quivered slightly in her seat.
“Your family, Miss Fields…I wonder how your family would react to this?” Rhona pulled out a picture from the file and showed it to Shay. Shay’s blood ran cold and she turned white. Rhona smiled at the girl’s predicament.
“Your name isn’t really Emily Fields, is it?” Rhona said, putting the picture down on the desk and leaning back in her chair. Shay looked away from the photo, it showed her at a strip club sliding up a pole with her back to it.
“In fact, your name is actully Shay Mitchell, youngest daughter of Canada’s Mitchell family, The most notorious family of thieves in Canada. You, however, chose not to go into the family business now why is that?” Rhona asked, a wicked smile forming on her face.
“I….um…my family…doesn’t want me…um…treading on their name.” Shay said hanging her head.
Rhona pulled out a packet and slammed it on the desk.
“You pull off this job, they will be treading on your name.” Rhona said.
“I’m not in that business, I can’t…” Shay said, shaking her head back and forth.
“Give it a chance darling.” Rhona said standing up, Shay’s eyes went straight to Rhona’s legs. Her body reacted instantly, she crossed her own legs and squeezed them together tightly trying to stifle her arousal. Rhona sat on the edge of her desk and crossed her legs in front of Shay.
“I know full well what not only your family is capable of, but you as well.” Rhona said, reaching back for her file. Looking through it she held up ‘Emily’s’ high school transcripts.
“These forgeries are very well done. Your family must have taught you well, wonder why they don’t want you in the family business.” Rhona said as she read through the file. Shay sat nervously in her chair, trying to process the fact that her past had been found out as well as controlling her own lusts. Shay’s panties were soaked.
“W-what do you want with me?” Shay asked as she crossed her legs again, tightly. Rhona smiled and flipped her hair back.
“You have two skills that are quite valuable to me Miss Mitchell. You are already an expert document forger, and you also have a photographic memory. Which is the main skill I need you for.” Rhona said flipping through the file again.
“I’m trying to start over…” Shay said with a bit of fire in her voice. A fire that was quickly put out when Rhona waved a couple more surveillance photos in front of her.
Shay’s blood ran cold when she saw them, they were even worse then her grinding on a pole. The first one had her in a passionate liplock with a random blonde girl, the second one had the same blonde sliding two fingers up Shay’s short skirt, the look on her face in the photo could not be explained away were anyone else to see it.
“Now, I know you want a fresh start away from the criminal lifestyle. I can offer you that in spades if you do this job for me. If you dont…” Rhona said sitting on the couch next to a nervous Shay. “…your family finds these pictures on their doorstep.” Shay’s eyes went wide as she moved back on the couch, she swallowed. Her fate was sealed.
“I’ll do it.”
Rhona smiled. “I thought you might.”
Rhona sat down on the couch and ran her hand up Shay’s leg and slightly up her skirt, eliciting a moan from the younger girl.
“Now to seal our deal.” Rhona said as she kissed Shay on the lips.
Shay’s hands reached up and cupped the other woman’s breasts, where she started massaging them without thinking. Rhona’s tongue invaded Shay’s mouth a moment later, working it’s way right down Shay’s throat.
Rhona grabbed the bottom of Shay’s skirt and pulled it down. Shay lifted her ass up off the couch so she could slide it off.
Rhona smiled as it became clear Shay hadn’t worn panties.
“My, what a naughty little fake-student-slash-stripper you are, Miss Emily Fields. Not wearing panties under such a short skirt? That’s positively slutty.”
Rhona licked her finger seductively and slid it into Shay’s wet opening, eliciting a moan from the student. Rhona pumped the fingers into Shay repeatedly as the girl’s moans got louder.
Rhona’s finger ficking pace slowed as she leaned in and whispered to Shay “I’m going to fuck your pussy raw and I am going to make you love it.”
“Oh yeah,” Shay groaned. “Oh yeah!!! That’s it!! Lick me!!! Lick me there!!!”
Shay moaned as she let this woman fuck her. Shay had to worry what this woman might do if she resisted. Shay was in the closet with her sexuality and she knew she had been careless when she fucked that blonde in the club that night…’What was her name? Ashley?’ Shay wondered idly as she squirmed under Rhona’s touch.
Those pictures would sever her ties with her family forever. They may have been gypsies, tramps, liars and thieves but for some reason the thought of their daughter being with another girl would have ashamed them.
Rhona smiled and moved in and engulfed Shay’s pussy with one lick as she pumped a finger in and out along with her tongue. Shay’s moaning was almost instinctive, her moans were almost loud enough to alert people outside to what was going on.
“Oh fuck!!!” Shay moaned and as Rhona paused, denying Shay the sensations for a moment. “Oh fu-u-u-uck-k-k-k!!!”
Rhona knew what was happening and smiled as she slid her fingers in and out of Shay faster and faster. She loved the fact that when Shay had climaxed, Rhona would make her return the favor, whether Shay wanted to or not.
Rhona slid her fingers in deep and nibbled on Shay’s ultra sensitive clit and she let out a massive moan as she came all over the couch and Rhona’s fingers. Rhona put her fingers by Shay’s mouth and instinctively the girl sucked them clean, Rhona smiled as she saw Shay move her fingers down her body to rub her pussy while she sucked.
Rhona pulled her fingers out of Shay’s mouth and she smacked Shay on the ass, eliciting a yelp from the young woman. Shay’s big brown eyes looked directly at Rhona as she sat down next to the bottomless girl.
“It’s your turn Shay.” Rhona said as she slid her skirt and panties down her shapely legs. Rhona pulled Shay in for a deep kiss, lowered the younger woman to her knees and sat back down.
Once again Shay and Rhona locked lips. Shay ripped open Rhona’s blouse exposing her bra-clad tits to the room. Shay made her way to Rhona’s bra covered breasts and got to work pleasing her with her various licking and sucking. The raven-haired beauty loved the feel of Shay’s sweet tongue massaging her hard nipples, Rhona moaned in enjoyment. Rhona smiled seductively as she felt Shay kissing and licking down her washboard stomach.
Shay took one finger and gently put it deep in Rhona’s pussy, pushing it in and out. She pulled the finger out and sucked it clean as she looked Rhona in the eyes. Rhona smiled.
“Well, get to it then.” Rhona said smiling.
Shay continued to finger and tongue Rhona’s sopping wet slit, starting slowly, but escalating her efforts as Rhona’s body reacted. The older woman humped Shay’s face, the effort making her a bit breathless, yet somehow empasising each and every one of Rhona’s moans.
“Yes, that’s good” Rhona moaned as Shay’s tongue work continued.
Shay, in pure lesbian fashion, tongued and fingered Rhona’s womanhood like there was no tomorrow. Now sliding one of her free fingers in Rhona’s ass, her licking continued as the older woman’s legs quivered, almost ready for her orgasm. Gaining this knowledge, Shay had doubled her efforts to please her. She could already feel it coming.
“Oh, that’s incredible Shay.” Rhona moaned as she held Shay’s head between her legs.
Shay’s head was nearly squashed due to Rhona wrapping her legs around it. The sensation was too great for her, and Rhona immediately squirted out her mass amount of cum right on her face and in her mouth. Shay was more than happy to savor the luscious juices and did just that. After Rhona’s orgasm ended, the weakened Shay simply gazed at her. Rhona’s thighs nearly made Shay black out but she gazed up at her, admiring her sexy, nearly naked body as she tasted the remainder of Rhona’s cum. Shay decided that this was worth what she was about to do for Rhona.
Shay stood up to put her skirt back on, as she turned her back to Rhona she felt a sharp stinging slap on her ass which made her jump in surprise. She turned to see Rhona standing there with a packet.
“This packet explains the entire job and everything you will need to do.” Rhona said as she handed Shay the packet and buttoned up her blouse. Rhona passed Shay and opened the door.
“You might want to get dressed before the real counselor shows up, Miss Fields,” Rhona said, emphasising Shay’s fake name. She grabbed the still-confused Shay and kissed her deeply on the lips, and walked out of the office. She paused in the doorway, glancing back at the young woman still half-naked on the floor. “Oh, and you’ll need a new wardrobe for your next job. Try to do better than stripper-chic, would you?”
* * * * * * * * * *
When Emma Roberts was on a job, she wasn’t put off by the target having a pussy instead of a prick. All that mattered was getting onto the premises where the target was; this time she’d lucked out.
In her bedroom Mrs. Ernestine Delacroix pinned the young woman under her, licking out her snatch and kissing her clit as Emma moaned and writhed; as far as Mrs. Delacroix was concerned, Emma was a prostitute on call and she was a married woman who liked having the odd munch – the younger the better – without her husband knowing. Emma’s lithe, nubile body bucked as she fondled the woman’s head, telling her not to stop EVER…
“See you later?” Mrs. Delacroix asked, seeing her out.
“Count on it. I live around here,” Emma laughed, lying on both counts.
“Best $300 I ever spent.”
”We said $250.”
”Your pussy tastes too nice to not leave a tip.”
With one last kiss, Emma left her customer – she’d only had a bag on her. But this bag had everything she needed. And once she got onto the roof, it was showtime…
Emma had always gotten a thrill out of breaking and entering, even more so than actually stealing. She liked to take risks on her jobs, and since she never worked with a gang the only way to heighten the rush she got was to… well, to work naked. Thrill aside, it helped her out going through airvents – her already slim body had no need to worry about clothes snagging against anything, and the bag she took with her was only big enough to carry whatever she needed. It also served as a distraction if she was ever interrupted – Emma still chuckled whenever she remembered the guard who’d seen her in the gallery; her beautiful bareness had distracted him only briefly, but it had been long enough for Emma to send him to the Land of Nod.
With the oily contents of the bottle in her bag freshly depleted all over her lovely tight body, and with her few clothes safely inside that bag, Emma manoeuvred herself into the airvents using the passageway on the roof, always the easiest way in. Five floors later she reached her destination; like all the rooms in this apartment building, it was a well-decorated place – but her research had shown the floor in the room she was aiming for had a weight-sensitive detector activated whenever the owner went to bed, which went off the SECOND anyone touched the floor. So she’d have to do it hanging in midair. And avoiding the sensors whose invisible lights were throughout the room and around the picture behind which lay the safe, so she’d have to do it upside down.
This was one time Emma was glad she didn’t have a rack like Christina Hendricks – even if those enormous jugs wouldn’t have been a drawback to squirreling through tight spaces, having them hanging down and slapping onto her face could have been fatal at a time like this. As it was, Emma’s more average melons were no impediment as she connected the rope to the grille she’d placed on the wall secured by her extremely strong plastic adhesive (tested up to 300 lbs) and lowered herself, pushing the picture aside.
Yep, there it was – none of those pressed ear/knob turnings here; it was one of those screen-and-keypad jobs. Of course, she could have just blown the safe, but she didn’t like to do that unless it was a last resort; the fewer traces left behind, the bigger the surprise for the owners. From her bag of tricks, Emma withdrew what looked like an mp3 player, but what when put against the safe started to read it electronically… it wouldn’t be long before she got the combination.
“We’re in,” she said as the seven figures came up. “Come to mama…” She keyed in the numbers, and the safe silently slid open, revealing…
But Emma was used to that; why would people as rich as her target keep their actual cash in the safe? The money might be somewhere else, but the KEY to the money was almost certainly right here. Emma reached for the envelopes, wondering what was in there… security details? Cards? Account numbers?
”You’ve got a beautiful bum on you, Emma. I’d hate to have to put a bullet through it.”
Emma’s hand froze. SonofaBITCH! And the woman knew her name…
As the lights came on, Emma swivelled around to get a look at Rhona Mitra, standing in the room with a gun pointed at her. A gun that looked as if it could leave her all over this room if she moved wrong.
“I don’t suppose I could tell you it’s not what you think?” she asked sheepishly.
“You could,” the British brunette answered. “Or I could bring in the police and have them take care of it. Or I could just shoot you and then call the police. Killing a cat burglar in the act? Especially one who’s wanted in several cities? No one would possibly blame me.”
Emma wasn’t liking this at all. Not only was Rhona holding all the cards, but if any more blood went to her head it might explode.
“Or we could come to some kind of… arrangement,” Rhona continued, striding towards the inverted American lass. “Only one other person has ever come close to stealing from me as you have, and she used to work for me.”
”Let’s just say her ability to judge distances between rooftops left something to be desired. In addition to your more obvious attributes, you also know how to get into just about any secure facility on the planet.”
”Except for the Jonas brothers’ pants,” Emma cracked.
Rhona allowed a second smile to flit across her face. “That’s one reason why I’m going to let you stay out of jail. Another is… you can stop pretending to be Spider-Man, by the way.”
Emma gratefully put herself right side up and lowered herself to the floor, shaking herself to bring the blood back to its proper places. “What’s the other?” she asked her prospective employer.
“I told you, you have a very lovely backside. And front. Before we get down to business, I’m going to play with it a little.” Rhona let her nightgown drop to the ground, showing Emma her lovely nude form and not missing the way the girl’s eyes lit up. “As you have already slept with one of my employees, you may as well get a promotion.”
”One of your… wait a minute. Delacroix?”
”Exactly. You see, your reputation precedes you…”
“Look who’s talking.”
”Yes. Anyway, on finding you were in this city and knowing you like to research your quarry, I had Mrs. Delacroix get in touch with you and make herself available. Once she had brought you to her – to MY – building, the rest was easy.”
”Does she really like girls?”
”Actually, yes. Unlike her husband.”
Rhona was still holding the gun on Emma, but the girl was at ease when the metal touched her flesh; the older woman started stroking her with the gun barrel, moving it through her hair, along her left cheek and down across her breasts. Rhona’s free hand was massaging Emma’s tender rump as she knelt to give the burglar a kiss on the lips. Emma had no trouble returning the kiss as she rested her hands on Rhona’s breasts, slowly stroking the heavy orbs.
Emma’s nerves were holding up until she felt the long gun barrel slipping into her tight little snatch.
Rhona felt Emma’s body tensing up. “Don’t worry, I was never going to shoot,” Rhona assured her. “The safety’s on.”
Emma relaxed a little as Rhona slid the gun in and around her pussy, accompanying each thrust and twist with little kisses over her body. Emma tasted Rhona’s nipples, her hand straying down between the woman’s legs and slipping a finger inside; Rhona was what she called a rainforest down there, because she was hot and wet. Just how she liked it. She groaned as Rhona’s gun thrust up her, teasing and pushing.
“Turn around,” Rhona said. Emma obeyed, obligingly spreading her taut tush. Her boss studied the glistening gun barrel for a moment, all lubed with Emma’s own cunt, before she pressed the tip to Emma’s asshole and pushed forward. Fast. The girl wanted to yell, but she gritted her teeth – she had a feeling that Rhona Mitra was not the kind to tolerate wimps. She held her ground, feeling Rhona pumping the gun with one hand and returning the favour Emma’s fingers had given her with the other, fondling and pushing fingers up the girl’s pussy. Emma started to gasp as the boss let her have it at both entrances, twisting the weapon inside her stretching anus with every pant.
Emma’s body started to quiver as Rhona’s gun moved faster, the girl’s mind on her lover’s magnificent body – oooh, if only they were reversed…Emma’s image of Rhona’s luscious rump was soon replaced by the sensations of heat through her body as her silence was broken by a series of rapidly louder cries as she shook under Rhona’s moves. Emma wailed in joy as her cunt soaked Rhona’s fingers; with one last thrust her body quaked in orgasm, as Rhona slid her gun out of the girl.
The sweating, shaking burglar sank to the floor in relief as Rhona strode to the still-open safe and took out the envelope. “This is what you came for,” she said as calmly as if she hadn’t just fucked Emma Roberts in the ass with a gun. “I must admit that if you hadn’t found it, I would have been very upset. Here,” she added, giving the girl the envelope. “This contains the information for the main job I’ve hired you for. Read it, commit it to memory, and destroy it. I will contact you when it’s time. Now leave.”
Emma pointed to her butt.
“All right, when you’ve recovered…”
* * * * * * * * * *
As soon as Emma had departed, the same way she arrived, Rhona studied the gun she had used on her.
Without clicking the safety button, she fired three shots into the nearest cushion.
“Oh yes, Emma Roberts,” Rhona said softly. “I would have been VERY upset.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Hidden deep inside the warehouse district of Los Angeles, Bago’s Chop Shop was a busy little hive of criminal activity. A converted old storage space that was now a happening garage that no one on the right side of the law had been able to find in almost two years, Bago’s was THE place to go for stolen, chopped, and cleaned parts for cars. Brian “Bago” Stone – no one knew where he got the nickname, but it had stuck anyway – had made his illegal business stealing cars, but had graduated to the much safer business of stripping said stolen cars, and selling their parts. These days, he let other people do his thieving for him.
“Hot one, comin’ in!”
Bago looked up from where he was watching Rashawn and Chippi strip the Lexus that had come in last night of it’s fancier features. Ricky was waving from the top ring of the catwalks above, where he could see out the small window, and see who was coming. A moment later, the garage door started sliding up, and sure enough, a pair of headlights could be seen outside, swinging into Bago’s faster than anyone should be driving in this neighborhood.
“Oh no,” Bago said, a huge smile on his face. “Oh, hell no! Girl, you did NOT!” The car came to a screeching stop all of two feet in front of Bago, and he drank in the sweet lines of the black Ferrari California Grand Touring sports car. “Where on EARTH did you find this?”
The door swung open, and a long, leather-clad leg stepped out. A moment later, a tattooed body followed it. Covered only with a halter top with a very small back and skin-tight leather pants, Megan Fox shook out her dark hair and smiled sweetly at Bago.
“Stole it from the RCA records lot – don’t ask me who it belongs to, I don’t know. Yours now, for the right price.”
“Fox, girl, you are the BEST,” Bago said, taking her by the arm and guiding her back towards his office – basically a room with a chair, a safe, a table, and a couch he often slept on.
“And don’t you forget it,” Megan said as she closed the door behind them. “I had to outrun 12 state trooper, and 3 choppers.” As the door clicked shut, she reached behind her back and undid the small tie that kept her top wrapped around her ample breasts. Releasing her tits, she turned to find Bago already yanking down his pants and pulling out his stiff cock.
“Get on the couch, let me give you your payment,” he said, smiling as Megan shimmied out of her pants. By the time she turned around, Bago was on her, pushing her down onto his couch, his rock-hard cock jabbing towards her crotch.
“Mmmm, you don’t waste any time, do you, babe?” Megan asked as Bago’s cock slid into her wet little snatch. Megan felt his manhood filling her as he plunged as deep as he could – though not as deep as Megan would’ve liked; Bago was not a large man in the penis department. Still, fucking him kept the more disreputable members of his garage from trying to get with Megan, and that was all she really cared about. Well, that and the money Bago paid her to bring him hot little cars.
“God, you feel so tight!” Bago said, moving back and forth inside her. Megan moaned, not really feeling what Bago was doing. Megan hated to admit it, but she was in a bit of a rut, sexually, and Bago was doing nothing to break her out of it, what with his constant hopping on top of her, jabbing his cock inside her, and rutting like a pig until he got off. Shame, really – he was rather cute, though not anyone Megan would consider her type. If she even had a type when it came to men.
“Mmmm, god! You are SO hot! Almost as hot as that Ferrari!” Bago cried out, shoving himself even harder into Megan. He wasn’t that far off – why did he always have to have such a hair-trigger sometimes? It was times like this Megan wished she could be with girls – they, at least, didn’t blow their load before Megan could even get worked up. Stupid boys and their stupid penises.
Well, Megan had a nice little vibrator in her purse that’d get her through this mess, once Bago was done and had paid her for the car. Megan didn’t know where Bago got all that cash, but she was damn glad he could – Megan had expensive tastes.
Bago was really getting into it now, his mouth dropping down to one of Megan’s tits and sucking away like mad. One of his hands dove down between the cushions of the couch and groped Megan’s bare ass. Megan repressed a sigh. Was that even five minutes? Was it even 2? God, someone needed to teach Bago some self control. Well, it was no wonder the washed up has been didn’t have a real girlfriend. Maybe it WAS time Megan moved on, found better grounds. If she ever got caught, she’d have quite the rap sheet already. She forced out another sexy moan, and hoped Bago WOULD finish quickly. She had the sudden desire to start looking into other cities she could start hitting up.
“Well, this is quite the scene,” a smooth, sophisticated voice suddenly echoed in the small office, breaking Megan‘s train of thought. Bago jumped up off of Megan, his not-yet-spent cock twitching despite himself. Standing before him was a gorgeous woman, maybe in her mid-thirties. She was clad in a charcoal-colored business suit with a painfully short skirt that did nothing to hide her impressive curves. Bago would’ve kept his erection, had she not been flanked by a pair of burly thugs, each with a pistol drawn.
“Who the fuck-”
“Shut up, Bago,” the woman said. “Miss Fox, I presume?”
“Yeah,” Megan said, sitting up without bothering to cross her arms over her naked breasts, though she did cross her legs.
“You’re the best car thief this side of the Mississippi,” the woman said without preamble. “And an even better getaway driver.”
“What’s it to you?” Megan asked.
“I need you.”
“I’ve sorta got a good thing going here,” Megan said, motioning back towards the chop shop. “And Bago’s been good to me, in more ways than one,” she lied. He hadn’t, really.
The woman nodded once. One of the two men stepped forward, raised his gun, and put a single round into Bago’s head. He fell to the floor, a shocked look on his face.
“Now you don’t,” the woman said simply, never taking her eyes off Fox. “Care to listen to my offer?”
Megan took one look at Bago’s dead body, shrugged, and stood up, reaching down for her pants as she did so. “Sure. Bago was a lousy lay anyway. What’d you say your name was?”
“Rhona,” the woman smiled. “Rhona Mitra.”
* * * * * * * * * *
HotKorPark69: Mmmm, baby, u make me so hot. I wish I was there right now, I would totally lick ur pussy until u creamed all over my face.
BlondeSlut6: Wish u were here, too, HKP69 – your tongue feels so good, I bet. U want a private show, baby? Only $25.99
Grace Park smiled down at the computer screen, rolled her eyes a bit, and pulled out one of the four dozen or so stolen credit card numbers she had on file. She loved these cam show whores – so desperate to make a buck, and so happy to have a real girl to chat with. Like that somehow made what they were doing better. She put in the credit card number, bought the show, and leaned back in her chair, pulled aside her pink Hello Kitty panties, and started in fingering herself.
Grace sat in her dark room, most of the light generated from the 7 different computer monitors around her. As a “More Than Competent” Hacker, Grace always had several computers running, usually on various illegal opportunities. She always had a credit-card-number stealing program running on one computer, and had three more dedicated entirely to scouring the internet for identities. She had two more that she used for “fun hacking” – right now, she was breaking into the FBI’s main website, just for the heck of it.
Her seventh and final computer – in this room anyway – was dedicated entirely to porn, almost all of it lesbian related. Grace wasn’t opposed to men, but she’d never really been attracted to one, either. She’d fucked a few guys in college, but after her first girl, she’d gone over, and considered herself about as happy a lesbian computer hacker as she could be.
She’d be happier if Tricia – BlondeSlut6’s real name – was there in the room with her, but you couldn’t have EVERYTHING, could you?
BlondeSlut6: MMMmmmm, thanks for buying a show, baby – what do u want me to do?
HotKorPark69: Show me ur tits, and leave the top off.
Grace fingered herself furiously as the statuesque blonde undid the very tiny bikini top she’d been wearing, revealing her impressively perky tits. “Mmmmm,” Grace moaned aloud. Yeah, Tricia was spectacular to look at, even if Grace suspected she was a fake lesbian – lot of these cam whores were. Not that Grace minded. A fantasy was a fantasy.
Suddenly, there was a beep on one of her side computers. Pulling her slippery fingers away from her cunt, Grace quickly sucked the juices off before reaching for a wireless mouse and clicking on the offending computer.
Instantly, a video chat screen popped up. Grace frowned, but made no effort to cover up – she was only naked from the waist down, though her nipples were erect enough to be plenty visible through her tank-top. It’s not like the person on the other end hadn’t seen her half naked before, anyway
BlondeSlut6: What are u going to do to me now, babe?
“This better be important,” Grace muttered as she reached for her porn computer to start typing a response to Tricia.
“You know very well it’s important when I contact you, Grace,” a stern voice replied.
HotKorPark69: Bend over and finger ur slit from behind, baby.
“Yeah, yeah. What is it this time, Mitra?” Grace muttered, trying very hard to concentrate on the way the blonde on her screen followed her directions, showing a very lovely rear end to the camera.
“That’s MISS Mitra to you, Grace. Less you forget I am your employer.”
“Sorry, MISS Mitra,” Grace replied snarkily. She made more money in a day hacking stolen credit card numbers than Rhona Mitra had ever paid her, but Rhona was kinda scary, and she usually provided interesting challenges. “Still, can this wait? I’m trying to rub one out here, and-”
“It cannot wait. I need you on the move by the end of the day. Your flight is already booked.”
BlondeSlut6: What now, baby?
Grace growled. She SO wanted to ignore Rhona right now.
“What could possibly be so important?” Grace asked. “I mean, you didn’t even ask if I was available!”
BlondeSlut6: Babe? HotKorPark69, you there?
“You’re ALWAYS available to me,” Rhona said. Grace scowled. That was, sadly, correct.
“What’s in it for me?” Grace asked sullenly. God, other people could be SUCH a pain sometimes.
“A guaranteed cut of 8 million dollars, the chance to hack a live bank security feed, and a little something extra, just for me. Plus, all the extra cash your team can pull out at the same time.”
“What is this, some kind of bank robbery?” Grace asked. She hated to admit it, but that did sound like fun.
BlondeSlut6: If u don’t want me to do anything, I can get another show.
“Some kind,” Rhona admitted. “Pack your bags.” The video chat screen vanished.
Grace sighed. She really didn’t like traveling. WiFi connections were so much more shaky than a good land-line. Oh well, at least she could finish getting off before she started packing.
Except when she turned back to her porn computer, Tricia was gone, and the show was still charging Grace’s stolen credit card.
“Damn cam whores. Just can’t trust them,” Grace muttered.
* * * * * * * * *
All she ever needed to know, Blake Lively had learned in kindergarten. That was when she learned that if she was nice to people, more often than not they were nice back. That philosophy got her through school, and through her first year of college – there probably wouldn’t have been a second anyway, but if her grades hadn’t resulted in an early departure getting caught with the cock of the Dean’s son in her mouth by the Dean herself certainly would have. If she had caught them.
Luckily Blake had figured out something else early in life – not to get caught, whether it was a little snuggle with Mr. Reece next door or a proper orgy. In her line of work, which she always called “customer services” to anyone who asked, she couldn’t afford to. As great as she was at using her lovely face, tanned skin, shampoo-commercial hair, buoyant rack, endless legs and perfect ass to get what she wanted from guys, in her 23 summers she’d never been nabbed by the police or by the numerous outraged girlfriends and wives (and in some cases boyfriends and husbands) she’d left behind. Which was why even as she sat poolside at the Standard Bar sipping her first drink of the evening and thinking/hoping/knowing that at least half the customers were checking out her long, tanned legs, she herself was checking out the customers. Anyone who even looked as if they were getting away from the wife… was a candidate, really.
“Hi there,” came a voice from right next to her.
Blake turned her head and smiled at the young man on the next lounger. Target acquired…
“Hi yourself,” she replied.
”I’m Jason,” he said, putting his own teeth on display. “Someone like you shouldn’t be here alone.”
”I’m Lara,” Blake lied. “And I never am. Now that you’re here… I have a confession to make. I almost had company tonight, but he stood me up.”
”What, a business meeting?”
”Well, for a MEETING…” Blake’s eyes narrowed. Jason knew what was coming.
“He just can’t appreciate what he had,” the guy said, eyeing Blake’s figure-hugging dress and preparing to ask her if she wanted a refill. Work towards the conquest, that was the key…
“Want me to get my mind off him somewhere else?” Blake asked.
Wow, this girl could read minds. “It would be my pleasure,” Jason replied, as his eyes dropped down her body.
Blake knew just where he was looking; she casually crossed her legs, exposing a bit more thigh and liking what she saw in his eyes.
* * * * * * * * * *
One hour and three more drinks later, Jason was liking what he saw even more as he stroked Blake’s legs all the way up and down, sucking on each of her feet as the blonde sighed on the edge of their bed. He gently licked each toe, sucking the tips as he glanced up at Blake. She was absolutely perfect… if those breasts weren’t real, he didn’t care. He had a good view of her box, and she was just about encouraging him to keep looking. He kept his eyes focused there as he tasted her legs, sliding his cock along each of her feet and stroking and kissing the inside of her thighs.
Blake closed her feet around his shaft. “Want to thrust, or should I do it?” she asked him.
* * * * * * * * * *
Half an hour later, Blake pressed her hands down on his torso, furrowing through his chest mat and rubbing him as he writhed around on his bed. Jason’s large pole was filling her cunt as she rode him; Blake’s beautiful blonde head thrust back and forth, enjoying his hands over her body.
“Oooh… oh yeah Blake… you’re so TIIIGHT…” Jason gasped, watching her jugs jiggle and squeezing her butt. She folded forward onto him and they kissed, her hair everywhere as he slapped her in delight. Blake rubbed his body and ground onto him, waiting for when he wasn’t able to hold on any more. As her well-oiled box tightened around his meat, she moved herself up and down a couple more times, watching his face – she knew he was about to spurt…
With a speed brought from a decade of practice Blake slipped up from him, releasing his prick. It stood there exposed with her pussy oils making the long rod shint as she shot her face down above it, grabbing the stalk hard enough to get a grip but not hard enough for him to yell. An instant later, Blake’s lovely face received the full load of his white cum, as more semen than he had produced in a long time shot out and out and out. Through the white storm, Blake smiled down at him and licked her lips, swallowing the drops that had gotten onto her mouth.
“Whatever you’re eating, keep it up,” she told Jason, sitting there with a perfect mixture of delight and smugness on his face. “And now time for dessert.” Still holding his dick and tracing a couple of fingers along the head, she turned around and gave Jason a perfect, porno magazine centrefold-worthy view of her waiting cunt and asshole.
From the first teacher who’d made a deal with her in school onwards, Blake had never met a man who didn’t enjoy the sight of her back door. She figured he’d spend about four seconds looking at it, before he started to… Not even that long; with his hands gripping her full asscheeks, he thrust his tongue into her pussy, tasting and licking her out and sucking her little clit. Jason sucked and licked for what seemed like hours, soaking up the taste of Blake’s well-oiled box, before his tongue slid out and licked up, kissing the area between one hole and the other.
Sighing, Blake relished feeling his tongue starting to probe her asshole. Leg man he may have been, but they all loved the butt…
* * * * * * * * * *
Four hours later, Blake and Jason lay against each other, the room heavy with the scent of their fucking. Jason had a deeply contented look on his face, and it was a tribute to Blake that even asleep he was still sporting an erection as if he was ready for another go as soon as he woke up.
The first thing Blake did when she cracked an eye open was to scan downwards and study his stiffy. She slithered down his body between his legs and she took his length down her throat, “Mmm”-ing in satisfaction as Jason slept; she was enjoying the weight of his dick along her tongue and taking quick little gasps of air when she could – she was actually glad when she could do this, because Blake Lively was and always had been a size queen. Not that she ever told any of her clients this; ultimately the bottom line was what mattered.
Blake sucked and licked, gently fondling Jason’s balls until, satisfied (meaning until most of his come was down her throat, with the remainder making it look as if he had had a wet dream), the blonde slid off the bed and disproved all male stereotypes about women by dressing smoothly and quickly; even though the slow-acting sedative she had slipped into his post-sex drink would keep him out for hours, she never liked to take chances – unlike the contents of men’s wallets and their car keys, the former of which nestled deep inside the handbag over her shoulder as she casually stepped out of the elevator several minutes later dangling the latter from a finger, en route to the space in the street where Jason had parked.
With no real name or any genuine information to go on, Jason would normally have as hard a time finding her when he woke up as all the other men she’d ensnared. Except that he too had a nasty habit; Blake Lively’s one mistake was not taking his cellphone. The cellphone on which there were many pictures of women, women that he had very carefully put into naked poses while they were sleeping – including Blake.
* * * * * * * * * *
That had been two months before. Now Blake was having a quiet little drink in a bar, by herself, off the clock. No work for her tonight, or for a couple of weeks…
“Is this seat taken?”
At the sound of the English accent, Blake looked up from her pina colada into the eyes of a dark-haired woman in her ’30s, holding an envelope and smiling. “I’ll be surprised if you’re not expecting anybody…”
“Actually, I’m not,” the blonde answered. “Just a working girl on a night off, that’s me.”
“That makes two of us,” the brunette said, sitting down and indicating for the barman to get over here. She looked at Blake amiably… but her hand was moving close to Blake’s exposed thigh.
“A working girl, you say…?” she said more quietly.
Blake’s free hand gently moved the brunette’s away. “I’m sorry, no girls allowed.”
“A man’s woman, eh?” the brunette replied, with a wry smile.
“I like men, men like me. If I do say so myself,” Blake giggled. “It’s a big city. You’ll find someone.”
“I already did,” she said, handing Blake the envelope. “Relax, no one’s serving you with anything… have a look inside.”
Blake opened the large envelope, and took out a sheaf of colour printouts. And was glad she had finished her drink, otherwise she’d have spat it out all over the counter when she saw they were pictures of herself, fast asleep – and completely naked. Her mouth agape, Blake gazed at the calm brunette next to her, sipping her Jack Daniel’s as casually as if she was in her own home.
“You’re right, men do like you. Rather a lot of men. Unfortunately for you, one of those men happens to be my brother,” Rhona continued as Blake riffled through the pictures in disbelief. There she was, the cover model and centerfold for “Narcoleptic Whores” magazine – he’d even gotten a couple of spread shots! What the FUCK…?
“He’s very good, isn’t he? Moving you around and posing you like a doll without waking you up… years of practice there. He’s almost as good as you are; he may be a pervert, but if it hadn’t been for his little peccadillos I never would have found you.”
“Say what now?”
“It’s very clear that you know how to use what your mother gave you… or your plastic surgeon.”
“Hi pot, I’m kettle,” Blake countered. “I know store-bought tits when I see them.”
“I could kill you on the spot for that, you know…”
“My, we’re a little insecure today, aren’t we?”
“…but as you said, you like men and men like you, and I need a woman of your… talents.” The woman took another sip. “Even minus your expenses–”
“The money you stole from my brother, and the cost of a new car, will be returned to him out of your share of the proceedings. But even with that bite, at the end of this job you will be a very, very wealthy woman, Miss Lively.”
“Wait… I never told you my name,” Blake stammered. “How’d you–”
“You kept your background very well hidden, but not well enough that we couldn’t find it. I’m Rhona,” she added, putting the money for their drinks on the table. “Come on, let’s leave this smokehole.”
As they left the bar, Blake asked “Who’s we?”
* * * * * * * * * *
“And Five makes $150,” JoAnna Garcia smiled as she handed over a fair sized wad of cash to the elderly woman on the other side of the counter. “Is there anything else I can do for you today, Mrs. Baker?”
“No darling, you’ve done more than enough,” the old woman said, turning around and shuffling out of the bank. JoAnna kept her smile on until Mrs. Baker closed the door behind her, and then let out a sigh. What was it with old women at banks, always having to talk to the Tellers like there was nothing else going on?
It was still early, and the San Francisco fog had yet to quite clear out, so the San Francisco Union Bank was far from the rush crowd it would see around Noon and again towards the later afternoon. And yet, JoAnna was already exhausted, and she’d only dealt with two or three customers so far.
Her exhaustion probably had something to do with the fact she’d been up having sex most of the night, which had seemed like such a great idea at the time. But JoAnna wasn’t 22 anymore, and her fiance wasn’t, either. Jason had looked hung over in the morning, but had still made a noble attempt to get into the shower with JoAnna none-the-less. She’d shoved him off and ordered him to make some coffee, and promised to make it up to him later – she hoped he’d settle for a hand job or maybe even just her cooking, because she was NOT going to have sex with him again for a few days. Not until she’d caught up on her rest.
“JoAnna, you busy?” Peggy, the Assistant Bank Manager asked, coming up behind JoAnna’s station.
“Nope,” JoAnna said, spinning about on her stool to smile at the middle-aged, dumpy-looking woman.
“We’ve got a new teller today, and I’ve got that conference call with Boston I need to be on in ten minutes. Can you show her around?”
“Absolutely,” JoAnna said.
“Great. Shay?” Peggy called out.
JoAnna felt her jaw drop a bit as a gorgeous brunette in a short but professional skirt appeared next to Peggy. She was young, but her bronze skin gave her an exotic, not-quite-Asian look that would make every man in the bank drool over her. She wore a rather conservatively cut blouse and jacket, a little more formal than the rest of the bankers, but that skirt – it showed enough of her legs that JoAnna thought if she bent over far enough, the newcomer would be flashing her panties to the room.
“JoAnna, this is Shay Mitchell,” Peggy said. “Our newest hire – fresh from USC and with impeccable recommendations.”
“Nice to meet you,” JoAnna said, extending her hand to Shay. “I’m JoAnna Garcia.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Shay said. “I love your hair.”
“Thank you!” JoAnna beamed, absentmindedly running a hand through her red locks.
“Okay, I’ll check on you both later,” Peggy said, running off towards the conference room.
“So, where do we go first?” Shay asked.
“No place better to start than the beginning,” JoAnna said, trying very hard not to stare at Shay’s legs.
* * * * * * * * * *
Shay felt awful. It had been child’s play for that Mitra woman to come up with all the paperwork needed to fake Shay’s way into the San Francisco Union Bank – the fake information was so complete and official looking, Shay couldn’t tell the difference. There was a chance it was completely legitimate, but Shay didn’t want to think about it.
Rhona had somehow had enough pull with USC that Shay was granted a three week leave from her classes, completely excused, and if she pulled off her role in this caper, Rhona assured Shay she could go right back and not be missed. Somehow, Shay doubted that, but she didn’t really have a choice.
Still, the information was impeccable, and Shay’s age actually worked to her advantage. Because of her family’s shady past, she’d been a few years late getting into USC, but according to Rhona’s records, she’d graduated already. In fact, she was only a Junior, but Shay was a few years older than most college students, so she was about the right age for someone just entering the workforce like this.
Shay was supposed to act like a Teller, and spend a few days – she wasn’t sure how many – learning the layout of the bank. But this JoAnna cutie was happily showing Shay everything she needed right here on the first day.
“…And these are our security guards, Mike and John,” JoAnna said, showing Shay into the small office just off the front door. The two guards were polar opposites. Mike was older – white hair, a round belly, and a wrinkled face, while John was younger, taller, thinner, and almost good looking – for a man. They both smiled happily as JoAnna showed Shay in, and Shay shook both their hands, but her attention was on the bank of monitors behind them, showing off the feed from every single camera in the bank. Every Teller station was cover, as were both of the doors, the main safe, and the stairwell leading down to the primary vault, which had a camera both on it’s door and inside it. The real valuable stuff would be down there. There was also, Shay noticed, a small individual door that had it’s own camera. There were no signs on the door, and no one seemed to be coming in and out of it. That struck her as odd.
What wasn’t odd was how the two guards practically drooled over Shay. Clearly they didn’t get to see beautiful women all that often – though JoAnna here was no slouch in the hotness department. Shay would happily bed the gorgeous redhead.
“Well, we’ll let you boys get back to work,” JoAnna said, gently pulling Shay out of the security office. Shay could feel the guards’ eyes on her ass the whole way out, and smiled about it. Men were so easy to manipulate. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so hard after all.
* * * * * * * * * *
“I’m sorry about the way the guards acted,” JoAnna said to Shay once they were away from the office. “They’re a pair of little horn dogs, and you’re right up their ally – young, hot, and new. They’ll drool over you for a few months or until someone new comes along, whichever comes first.”
Shay smiled sweetly at JoAnna. “You clearly speak from experience,” she said, giving JoAnna’s body a very clear once-over with her eyes.
JoAnna felt her cheeks burn. Was Shay hitting on her? No, couldn’t be. It was JoAnna’s imagination. No doubt some residue from all the sex she’d had the night before.
Besides, JoAnna was straight. Outside of one crazy night in college, she’d never even thought about being with a girl before. Of course, the girl she fooled around with in college had been cute and curvy like Shay…
No, JoAnna shook her head. No, she wasn’t going to go there, not with a co-worker. Besides, she was engaged to be married. Everything in her life was going exactly according to plan, and she wasn’t going to let that slip, just for some passing, flirtatious look from a girl she just met. JoAnna wasn’t that kind of girl.
“Come on,” she said aloud. “Let me show you the vault.”
* * * * * * * * * *
“It’s fairly standard bank vault,” JoAnna said to Shay as the two women walked down the stairs into the main vault. Complete with a classic large safe door. “We do have an advanced combination lock that’s generally on a timer, though in case of emergency, the combination can be put in and the door opened at any time, though doing so will alert the police. We have to call them ahead of time if we REALLY need to get into it.”
“Wow,” Shay said, and meant it. Shay couldn’t imagine anyone being able to break into something like this. Whoever was going to do it would have to be one of the best – she hoped Rhona had someone expert lined up, because Shay knew she couldn’t do it.
“Who has the combination?” She asked.
“Good question. Not Peggy, that’s for sure,” JoAnna said. “Possibly David, the Branch Manager, but he’s almost never in – he covers 4 other banks in town, and spends maybe an hour or two in each.”
“Guess it’d REALLY have to be an emergency, then,” Shay muttered. There went any plan for her to steal the combo before the heist. Too bad. Rhona might have paid extra for that.
“Come on, I’ll show you the safe deposit boxes and the break room, and then get you set up at a teller station,” the redhead said, leading Shay out of the room and back towards the stairs.
As they went back upstairs, Shay noticed they passed the unmarked door that had a security camera on it. Unable to resist, she spoke up about it.
“What’s in here?” she said, trying to sound as casual and unconcerned as possible.
“Huh?” JoAnna said, turning to look at the door Shay was indicating. “Oh, that’s David’s office, where he goes to meet with major clients. He’s got the most secure computer in the place, with all the access codes and whatnot needed to get at their private accounts. No one but him is allowed in there. See the camera?” JoAnna said, pointing up.
“I do now,” Shay lied. “Wow, guess I want to stay out of there.”
“Come on, I’ll show you the break room. This time of morning, the Coffee’s still somewhat drinkable,” JoAnna said.
* * * * * * * * * *
Even considering it was fairly fresh, the coffee JoAnna poured Shay wasn’t all that great – the Bank’s Coffee machine was ten years old and had been on it’s last legs for four of those years. The mud it spewed out was caffeinated, however, and that always helped.
“Sorry we couldn’t do better. Some of us bring our own coffee in, but that can get expensive,” JoAnna apologized when Shay grimaced after her first sip.
“I’m not that much of a coffee drinker anyway,” Shay said.
“How on earth do you wake up, then?” JoAnna asked. “I’m no good without at least a full cup in me in the morning.”
“Sex,” Shay said with a wicked little smile. “A good orgasm always gets me moving better than anything else.”
JoAnna nearly spit her coffee out of her mouth when she heard that. “R-really?” she stammered, swallowing hard first. “So you have a boyfriend, then?”
“Oh, no,” Shay replied. “I… well, I sorta had a one night stand last night,” Shay said, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It was this barista that’s been making eyes at me when I get my lattes for the last couple of weeks, and I finally broke down and brought her home last night.”
“Her?” JoAnna asked. “So you’re…”
“I don’t brag about it, but yeah – I’m into girls,” Shay said. “This IS San Francisco, after all.”
JoAnna chuckled “Yeah, that’s true. You should see some of the people who come in here on certain days.”
“I’m so glad I can tell you stuff like this,” Shay said, placing a hand on JoAnna’s knee. “I always worry when I go someplace new that people will react badly.”
“Well, no worries here,” JoAnna said, her leg suddenly feeling VERY warm. “My college roommate was a lesbian, and I adore her to pieces.”
“Oh, so do you have a ‘One Night At College…’ story?” Shay asked.
“A ‘One Night At College…’ story – you know, where a straight coed, maybe a little drunk, gives in and makes out with her lesbian roommate.”
“There’s a name for that?” JoAnna said, surprised.
“Oh yeah – I’ve got three of them in my belt – three straight roommates, made out with all three of them. If you count suitemates my freshman year, that number goes up to seven, and dormmates the number hit’s the mid double-digits by the end of my sophomore year,” Shay said with a twinkle of pride in her eyes.
“Wow,” was all JoAnna could manage to eek out. All the while Shay had been talking, her hand had slid up JoAnna’s leg, until it was brushing the hem of her skirt. JoAnna was certain it was burning through the fabric, from the heat of it all.
“So, what’s your story?” Shay asked, staring into JoAnna’s eyes.
“One night, my roommate and I both came back hammered from a bar,” JoAnna said, her voice as low as she could make it. “We were a little drunk, and… I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”
“It’s okay,” Shay said. “Believe me, I’m sure I’ve done worse.”
“Well, she used to always make passes at me when we were drunk, but that night… oh god,” JoAnna said, foggy images of that night flooding her brain. “That night, I made a pass on her. We totally ended up making out, and I… I sorta kissed her breasts.”
“Mmm, kinky,” Shay said, leaning closer to JoAnna. “Did she do anything to you?”
JoAnna could feel her face beating bright red. “She did all sorts of things to me,” she whispered, shocking herself that she would admit that to someone who was basically a total stranger. A very attractive total strange, but a total stranger none-the-less.
“My my, and here I was thinking you were all sweet and innocent,” Shay said, leaning in very close to JoAnna on the couch. “I should’ve known better. Hot redheaded college girls are always hiding something.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” JoAnna said.
“So then you won’t mind if I do this?” Shay asked, leaning in and kissing JoAnna full on the lips.
JoAnna’s heart leapt in her throat. She’d not even thought of kissing another woman since that night with her roommate all those years ago, and now here she was, on a couch in the break room, this gorgeous, dark-haired, youthful temptress making a move on her.
And JoAnna wasn’t doing a thing to stop her.
Shay was just starting to get aggressive, pushing JoAnna back into a laying position on the couch, and shoving her tongue into the older woman’s mouth, when JoAnna dropped her coffee cup, spilling it all over the floor.
“OHMYGOSH!” JoAnna said, pushing Shay of her and jumping up off the couch. “We need to clean this up and get back to work.”
“I-I’m sorry. I thought you were-”
“Don’t be sorry – grab some paper towels over there, please – It’s just – thank you – I’m engaged, and I really shouldn’t be doing that with anyone – oh, these just won’t work. Where’s the mop? – with someone other than my fiance and-” JoAnna prattled on like that for several long moments, as she and Shay cleaned up the spilled coffee. By then, their break had ended, and the late morning/early afternoon crowd was starting to show up. The two girls didn’t see each other alone the rest of the day.
But one thing was for sure. JoAnna Garcia was as horny as she’d ever been in her life, and it was all thanks to Shay Mitchell.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Same stuff, different day.” That was the dominating thought coursing through Lucy Hale’s mind.
Every day had been the exactly the same for her. It was routine, wakeup, shower, dress, go to work, try to keep 25 screaming brats under control, clean her classroom, go home, eat dinner, grade papers, have a couple glasses of wine, watch the evening news, go to bed, get up the next morning and do it all over again.
It wasn’t as though the tiny brunette hated her life, quite the opposite, she loved the job. She has just gotten herself stuck in a rut, it was the same thing every day. Her life had become monotonous, almost boring. Lucy sighed as she sat back at her desk and kicked up her heeled boots up on her desk, the kids in her class at Golden Gate Elementary School were at recess at the moment so she could finally catch her breath.
“Tiring isn’t it?” came a voice from the doorway.
“It’s kindergarten, what do you think?” Lucy asked with a giggle as she took her feet off of her desk and stood up.
“I wouldn’t know, the little ones aren’t my style. I prefer to be the one teaching them on their way out.” said her co-worker.
“You always know how to make me laugh Brandon.” Lucy said giggling as she leaned on her desk. Brandon Walters was the 6th grade teacher at GG and was very popular among the impressionable students. Standing over Lucy’s 5’2″ frame and his shoulder length black hair framing his pale face. “He certinately doesn’t look like a teacher” Lucy mused to herself.
“So what’s bothering you, that kinda sigh says there’s something on your mind.” Brandon said as he crossed his arms and leaned on the desk next to Lucy, absent-mindedly knocking away one of the toys on the floor.
“I don’t know. I just feel like I’m stuck, ya know? Like I was meant for something more then just being a kindergarten teacher…” Lucy said as she began to pace. She ran her hands though her hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “…I just feel, like, I need something. Some form of excitement to let me know I’m alive.”
“If I were you, sweetheart, I’d suggest you get out of San Francisco. Take a vacation, go visit your family or something, or go to a place you’ve never been before.” Brandon suggested running one hand through his hair.
“That’s a good idea, but we just got back from summer vacation a few weeks ago, and I did go visit my family. It didn’t help.” Lucy said sighing and watching the kids on the playground. Lucy adjusted her skirt and turned back to the towering 6th grade teacher.
“I don’t know what to tell you then Luce, I stand by what I said maybe you just need to get out of San Francisco.” Brandon said as he patted Lucy on the shoulder and headed out.
Lucy sighed as she turned back toward the playground and pulled out her iPhone and began a search. “A vacation does sound like a good idea” Lucy thought to herself as she went to several travel websites. Lucy kept scrolling through various locations until one caught her eye.
“OOH, Cancun.” Lucy said as she went through all the details on her phone to book this vacation. She knew it was impulsive but maybe, just maybe she’d meet someone on her vacation that would make her feel alive again.
Booking the actual trip would have to wait as she heard the familiar ringing of a bell as her students began filing back into the room. Lucy sighed as she took one last look at the picture of the Cancun beach and put her phone back in her drawer and turned back to her students.
* * * * * * * * * *
“…so if Disneyland’s ever looking for a designer, Bethany just might be getting a call!” the perky blonde finished, standing in front of an enormous sandy recreation of Sleeping Beauty’s castle. “From the Sands Sculpture Contest here at Drakes Beach, I’m–”
Hayden Panettiere snapped off the set and flung away the remote before yelling “GAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” to the ceiling. “That – is – IT! Seriously, that’s IT! I – T IT!”
“Come on, that wasn’t so bad,” Troian Bellisario said as she tried to lie calm next to her in their bed. “It looked like fun on that beach…”
“That’s just it,” the blonde sighed, facing her darker friend. “They all look like fun. Fluffy airy end-of-show-good-night-see-you-tomorrow fun. I’ve been doing the happy nothing stories on Channel 7 ever since I got hired, and I swear if I have to stick on a smile one more time–”
“Hayden, you know they hired you for the whole package. You’re a good reporter, you know that, I know that – hell, even the news director knows that,” Troian said, telling herself not to edge her hands towards the girl. “But they also hired you because – let’s face it – you’re hot.”
Hayden couldn’t deny that; she’d seen the letters Channel 7 had been getting since she started two years ago. Some of them actually praised her work, and once the marriage proposals were taken away some of what was left was even readable on air. Hayden didn’t really mind – it was certainly preferable to being told she was an ugly air-stealing ho (and she got a fair bit of mail along those lines as well, almost entirely from jealous teenage girls and bitter housewives) – and she knew she wasn’t about to be promoted to anchor any time soon, but…
“It’s just every time Ashley Benson talks about bought senators or mass murderers… she just reminds me what I’m stuck with. Sometimes I wish that George Blaine wasn’t married…” Hayden trailed off.
“Think you could use that sweet mouth to talk him into throwing you a bone?” Troian asked. “Mr. News Anchor is a happy husband and you know it. Besides, you got this far without sleeping with anyone on the job.”
“Except you,” Hayden reminded her camerawoman.
“Except me,” Troian laughed, kissing Hayden’s neck. Both had seen a few of the letters and fantasies detailed therein and laughed at how suggestions that Hayden do it with the writers’ girlfriends were closer to the truth than they thought, but unlike Hayden Troian had come out at work; Hayden wanted to as well, but she was part of the on-camera team and Ashley, unlike George, wasn’t a GLAAD supporter. At all.
Troian had warmed to Hayden from the moment she joined, and had suspected she was keeping something secret when they’d been out on a fluffy airy end-of-show-good-night-see-you-tomorrow piece and she’d spotted the blonde eyeing a passing jogger; a passing female jogger. Hayden had quickly realised Troian had caught her checking the girl out, and was about to try and cover herself when she saw the brunette’s understanding expression… Troian had been looking at the girl that way too. And Hayden, though it wasn’t until a few days later and an after work drink that Miss Panettiere confessed that she’d been checking out Miss Bellisario. That wasn’t the only reason the two clicked on work duties, but it didn’t hurt.
“Anyway, it’s Saturday,” the brunette continued, kissing Hayden again as she moved on top of her. “You need to loosen up…”
“Got any ideas?” Hayden kissed Troian back and began stroking her lover, who answered by fondling the blonde’s small but nicely formed breasts. She kissed each one, running the tip of her tongue along Hayden’s nipples as a hand travelled down the girl’s body. Troian moaned with happiness as she felt Miss Panettiere’s pussy; she was gorgeously fuzzy below, and she was always wet and ready for action. Always.
“Mmmm…” Hayden murmured as Troian kissed her stomach. She closed her eyes, waiting to feel Miss B’s tongue moving around inside her, making her feel all safe and happy like she always did. Soon Troian’s soft lips were on her box, nuzzling the tender flesh and tasting the sweet pussy inside. She started to writhe on the bed under the brunette’s mouth and hands, breathing harder as Troian worked.
“Give me a paintjob…” she whispered. Troian slid back up Hayden’s body and brought herself up so that she was kneeling over the blonde, before carefully lowering her supple form down. Hayden watched in delight as Troian’s pussy slowly moved down onto her left nipple; both women trembled as they made contact. Crouched above her lover, Troian brushed her cunt along Hayden’s breasts, feeling the hardened nipples touching her clit as she moved. She moved down as low as she could over the right breast, and relished Hayden’s nipple inside her, getting the flavour of her snatch.
Hayden gently stroked Troian’s ass and kissed her beloved as the brunette disengaged herself and bent down to return the kiss. “Want it front or back?” Hayden asked.
Troian’s face fell. “We’re out of oil…”
Hayden made a snipping motion. “Front it is.”
Because Troian towered over Hayden, being on top wasn’t always that comfortable even though neither ever complained. But as the two lasses moved away from each other to lie on their sides, legs spread, they were glad this was an option. Both took a moment to study each other; small blonde Hayden, somewhat taller brunette Troian, each blessed with a great body and a gorgeous open pussy. Hayden edged forward and clamped her legs on Troian, feeling their boxes together; the two began to move, each massaging the other with their cunt.
Troian rotated her hips as Hayden thrust to and fro; not for the first time the brunette was amazed at how much passion the tiny girl threw into this. Clutching the mattress and rubbing her soaking blonde box against Troian’s darker one, Hayden’s body was breaking out in sweat as she groaned, making herself feel almost as good as she was making Troian. Her feet rubbed Troian’s body as Miss B herself began to scream and cream, bucking against the bed and begging Hayden not to stop.
“Anytime you want, Hayden…” Troian gasped as Miss Panettiere started to come. “ANYTIME…”
* * * * * * * * *
Monday morning around 10 AM, Hayden got up from her desk in a downer mood for three reasons. One, it was freaking MONDAY.
Two, she hadn’t gotten to bang Troian’s head against the bedstead last night. Normally that wouldn’t have been a problem, but Hayden had been seriously horny for the second night in a row and Troian… she was a girl of her word. Her family knew she liked girls and they were a lot more religious than she was, but they all lived and let live and Troian had promised them that she would never have sex on Sundays. Even though Hayden knew this, her body wasn’t always ruled by her head, so she’d been forced to spend last night digging her fingers into the mattress to keep them off her beloved.
Three, she’d just been told that Zucker wanted to see her. Wonderful – being called in to see the boss a few hours into the worst working day of the week. Okay, Hayden had been a little late, but…
“Cheer up, kid,” weatherman Joseph Park told her, seeing her worried face as she passed his desk. “He can’t eat you – he just looks like he could.”
“So that’s what happened to Katy Bailey,” Hayden chuckled, and immediately regretted bringing up a fellow reporter who’d suddenly been fired. She put her out of her mind and summoned up a smile as she knocked on the door of news director Roger Zucker.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Hayden asked as she entered.
“That’s kind of why I called you, Hayden,” the ample, slightly balding man behind the desk replied in between swigs of that horrible coffee someone on the staff insisted on buying. “You’ve been here… a year or two, right?”
“Closing in on two years.”
“And people like you. Even my own son likes you – says he only watches the news in case you do a story. Whatever works…”
“Thanks!” Hayden said with a bit more relief than she’d planned on – this couldn’t be leading up to an axing.
“However,” Zucker continued, “you also sound as if you actually understand what you’re saying. I know you do fluff pieces, but I also know you work hard and you keep your eyes open. And I know you can write on a higher evolutionary level than some of the reporters I’ve had…”
“Wow… this is a-”
“Surprise? Thought I was going to fire you? Rather than ask you if you’d like to sit next to Ashley for a day or two?”
Hayden Panettiere’s legs suddenly turned to water as she lost the ability to speak for a few seconds. “Uhhhh……” She sought for words as Zucker grinned.
“George goes on vacation next week and we usually have Tony Romano spelling for him all week. He’ll be on the hot seat for three days, but for Tuesday and Thursday we want to try having two women reading the news.”
“Why not? The viewers like you, the staff here like you, Mr. Franco likes you…”
The station owner liked her? Hayden Panettiere’s Best Monday Ever. Only the fact that she was wearing a dress kept her from doing somersaults all the way out of Zucker’s office.
* * * * * * * * * *
“For reals?” Troian said as the mobile unit headed to today’s assignment.
“For reals!” Hayden laughed, not even minding that they were heading to a red light.
“Finally get to TiVo the news for a good reason instead of bitching about camerawork.”
“Come on, your work’s perfect.” Hayden’s eyes softened as she looked at the camerawoman/driver and lowered her voice. “You’re perfect…”
“Wait till tonight,” Troian replied. “Celebrate then.”
“Count on it,” the reporter said, squeezing Troian’s hand in what she thought their sound engineer would note as a friendly way.
* * * * * * * * * *
“So I’m going to be working with the new girl?” Ashley Benson asked.
“Hayden’s been here long enough so you can stop calling her that. Louise Minchin’s the new girl,” Zucker pointed out.
“She’s also just an intern; Hayden’s new to the hosting gig… it might be fun to have someone new to spar with. Looking forward to it,” she lied as she left the office.
Ashley simply could not stand competition, which was why she had had no qualms about getting the rising Katy Bailey fired on discovering she liked the odd bit of wacky tobaccy. Though truth be told, it wasn’t the marijuana that had done it for her (heck, Ashley smoked the odd joint herself) – it was learning Katy was a regular at a lesbian hangout that did it.
The sound man who’d gone out with that bull dyke Bellisario had told her the way she and Panettiere held hands was NOT the way friends did it. And now she was supposed to work next to another dyke? One who was taking fans away from her?
“Not going to happen, Pantyliner,” Ashley muttered. “Not. Going. To happen.”
* * * * * * * * * *
As hideouts went, Roselyn Sanchez had hidden in worse. Rhona Mitra had given Roselyn specific directions, by way of a cellphone voice mail, that lead her to what appeared to be a closed Victoria’s Secret in San Francisco – and the equally abandoned apartment above it. The whole place seemed utterly non-descript, and the last place anyone would look for a gang of criminals and bank robbers.
So, of course, Roselyn suspected it at once. She’d hunted for safe houses all over the southern US, back before she met Alicia. Back before…
Roselyn would’ve chosen this place in a heartbeat. Shaking off old memories, she headed around back, found the old rickety wooden stairwell leading upstairs. Roselyn’s nose crinkled a bit at the smell of sawdust and cement, and she realized that while the place looked old, there’d been some construction done recently, within the last day or two, no more.
The stairs weren’t what had just been built, that much was certain – every other one seemed to creak and groan under Roselyn’s feet, and part of the railing felt particularly loose as she scaled her way up to the second floor. There she found a singular unlocked door, and a hidden security camera in a nail-hole in the slight roof over-hang – so well hidden, only her experienced eye spotted it. 99% of people would never have noticed.
THAT, no doubt, was new.
Roselyn knocked twice, then stood back, hands at her sides, looking pointedly at the camera. A few seconds passed, and then the door clicked and swung open.
Roselyn entered slowly, willing her eyes to adjust to the indoor gloom as quickly as possible. It took only a second or two, but in that time, she was certain every eye in the place was on her.
“You’re good,” a cheerful voice called out. “You spotted the security camera right away. Most people don’t.”
“I’m not most people,” Roselyn said. She glanced towards the voice and wasn’t at all surprised to find it coming from a woman sitting in front of a bank of computer monitors. Roselyn was certain those had been put in sometime in the last 24-36 hours, no doubt to accommodate the woman now running them. Roselyn gave a quick look to what little she could see of the cute Asian woman behind the computer screens before turning to scan the rest of the room.
She wasn’t the first to arrive, or even the second. Two more girls waited on a couch in the middle of the room. One was maybe in her early twenties, while the other one was clearly still a teenager. The older one had long, flowing dark hair with a rather exotic look that spoke to Roselyn in ways no one but Alicia had in a while. She leaned back on the couch, looking at Roselyn nervously.
The teenager was going over some photos and documents on the coffee table before her, pretty much ignoring Roselyn all together. Roselyn couldn’t imagine what the girl was doing here, but then again, she hadn’t been much older herself when she’d robbed her first bank. Certainly Roselyn had lifted more than her fair share of purses and even a few cars before she was legally old enough to drive. This girl was a few years older than that, but from the way she was looking at the documents in front of her, she took her job a lot more seriously than Roselyn did at that age.
“Rhona here?” Roselyn asked carefully as she came in.
“Not yet,” the far-too-cheery computer girl said. “Go ahead and have a seat. She should be here soon.”
“Fantastic,” Roselyn muttered. She walked over to the couch and sat down next to the long-haired, quiet girl. Her butt barely touched the cushions before the door swung open and another woman entered. Roselyn’s eyebrow shot up, and her nipples went a bit hard as the leather-clad, tattooed beauty marched in like she owned the place, her dark hair falling down around her shoulders, and her ample cleavage well on display.
“This all of us?” the woman asked without preamble.
“Nope, team’s supposed to be seven, not including Rhona,” the computer girl said.
“How long are we supposed to wait for her?” Roselyn asked.
“Not long – she’s picking up the last two girls herself.”
“Peachy. Anyone got any cards?” the leather-clad girl asked as she plopped down in a chair across from the couch. “Or better yet, some beer?”
“No drinking on Rhona’s dime until the job’s done,” the computer girl said simply.
“Are we even ON her dime, or are we getting paid from the spoils of the job?” the teenager asked, still running over the photographs.
“You’re getting paid?” the exotic, dark-haired woman on the couch asked. “I was pretty much threatened.”
“Me, too,” Roselyn, the teenager, and the girl in leather all said at once.
“Oh, this just keeps getting better and better,” the leather girl sighed.
“Cheer up, Megan – things are about to get moving.” Roselyn looked up to see Rhona Mitra walking in. The dark-haired temptress wore a conservatively-cut business suit with a painfully short skirt that showed off Rhona’s impressive legs. Behind her, swathed in a flowing, low-cut red dress came a gorgeous blonde who must have caught the teenager’s attention, because she went stiff upon glancing at her. She made certain parts of Roselyn go stiff, too – namely her nipples and clit. The blonde was THAT gorgeous.
And then one more person came in behind Rhona, and Roselyn shot up out of her seat.
“What the fuck is SHE doing here?” the second blonde to come in behind Rhona said, spotting Roselyn at once.
“Me? What are YOU doing here, you whore!” Roselyn snarled as Jaime Pressly walked in.
“Jaime’s worked for me in the past, Roselyn,” Rhona said. “I know you two have a history, and-”
“Forget it,” Roselyn said, heading towards the door. “Forget it. I will NOT work with this psycho ever again.”
“Missed you too, Caliente Buns,” Jaime quipped. “See you in another 5 years.”
“Go to hell,” Roselyn said, storming past Jaime. She got one step onto the stairs, fully intent on leaving this place once and for all, when Rhona called her back.
“If you leave now, Roselyn, Alicia and Joshua will be dead by the time you get home.”
Roselyn froze on the steps. Not for one second did she doubt that Rhona Mitra not only knew who Alicia and Joshua were, but how to find them quickly, and how to kill them as painfully as possible in the time it would take Roselyn to so much as get on the phone with them. Roselyn had seen just how vindictive Rhona could be.
She closed her eyes for a moment and whispered and tiny prayer, then turned around and walked back in.
“Fine, but she does what I say, or I’ll put a bullet in her head first chance I get,” Roselyn said, storming past Rhona and Jaime and the other blonde.
“Gee, Roselyn, why don’t we work together more often?” Pressly asked. “Oh, right, it’s because you’re a hormonal BITCH all the time.”
“Jaime, be quiet,” Rhona said. “You’re both here to be part of this team and part of this job. And since I own you both, you don’t have a choice.”
“Small world, eh Caliente Buns,” Jaime said. “So, this everyone?”
“Yes, I suppose I should introduce you to the team,” Rhona said.
“Roselyn Sanchez, you were once the leader and chief architect of the legendary Black Panty Gang, a team of all-women bank robbers who went on a torrid spree of heists through southern Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and New Mexico. Your gang was collectively #6 on the FBI Most Wanted list until you botched a heist in Santa Fe, and 5 of your crew were killed in a prolonged shoot-out with the police. Only you and one other escaped, a testament to your ability to think on your feet.”
“Funny, I always thought Caliente Buns here thought better on her back,” Pressly muttered quietly.
“Jaime Pressly here,” Rhona muttered, looking over her shoulder at the short-haired blonde, “was the only other member of the original Black Panty Gang to survive. She has since cut a murderous swath up the central United States, working mostly as muscle, though also finding work as a killer-for-hire and has the police department in Jefferson City convinced they have a serial killer on the loose.”
Jaime actually giggled at that. “Just because I was hired to cut the heads off six people, they got all in a fluster.”
“You cut the heads off six people?” the exotic brunette with the long hair asked, her eyes going wide with fear.
“I got paid good money, girlie,” Jaime said. “And, you know, maybe I fooled around with a couple of the guys before I decapitated them – you don’t see them calling me a serial rapist, do you?”
“That would be a bit more your style,” Roselyn hissed under her breath.
“Shay Mitchell here,” Rhona said, indicating the exotic brunette who still looked quite fearful of Jaime, “is our inside girl. An expert at becoming different people, she has been inside the target bank for a full week now, and has confirmed the layout and security status. She’ll still be posing as a teller when you hit the bank, so be prepared to extract her when you leave,” Mitra warned Roselyn.
“You’re sure about all of this information?” the teenager asked Shay directly.
“Yes,” Shay said, still eyeing Jaime. “Every camera, every lock, every employee – they were all exactly as they are in these papers and pictures.”
“I could’ve told you that,” the Asian girl by the computer spoke up. “After all, I hacked most of that information myself.”
“Grace Park is our computer expert,” Rhona said, nodding towards Grace, who waved from where she sat, but didn’t get up. “She’s been my personal hacker for a few years now, and is worth every penny. She specializes in security systems and a few other little tricks that we’ll make use of.”
“Can she hack the safe?” Roselyn asked.
“Nope – it’s rather old-fashioned that way,” Grace said, spinning all the way around once in her chair. “It’s not connected to any sort of computer signal, wireless or landline. Going to need a safe cracker for that.”
“That’s where Emma Roberts comes in,” Rhona said, nodding towards the teenager. “A regular prodigy when it comes to getting in and out of places she shouldn’t be, Emma is more than capable of getting into the bank vault in record time. All you have to do is buy her that time.”
“The kid?” the girl in leather said. “Really?”
“Really,” Emma said. “Why, you think you can do it?”
“Hey, don’t look at me, sweetie – I just drive the car.”
“This is Megan Fox,” Rhona said, nodding towards the leather girl. “And she does more than just drive the car. She’s the leading car thief here in California, is perhaps the best wheelman in the country, and has spent the last few days familiarizing herself with the backstreets and byways of San Francisco. When the crime is done, if you can get to Megan’s vehicle, she will get you and the loot back here safely.”
“What are you driving?” Jaime asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Megan said, looking pointedly at Rhona. Mitra ignored her.
“That just leaves our expert distraction-” she started to say, motioning towards the gorgeous, long-haired blonde who’d come in with her, but Emma cut her off.
“Blake Lively,” Roberts said with a sour tone.
“Hello, Emma,” Blake said. “Long time.”
“Not long enough,” Emma replied.
“You two know each other?” Rhona asked.
“You could say that,” Emma replied.
* * * * * * * * * *
They’d known each other one year before.
Peter Shore was the CEO of one of the larger corporations on the planet. He was also having a lengthy business meeting with his partners that would keep him from his wife for the whole weekend, or so he’d told his wife. The weekend did in fact involve partners, but it also involved other business – Blake Lively’s business.
She was his companion for the weekend; he had given her the old “My wife doesn’t understand me” line (unaware that Blake understood men like him perfectly) and he would be in for a shock when she was gone by Monday with nothing for him to track her down with. And with about ten thousand dollars missing, but he’d offered it to her straight off just to sweeten the deal (Blake liked to make things easy, so she said yes). The house he was staying in was empty that Saturday afternoon, except for Blake, who was having herself a shower before she got ready for Peter to come back from the day’s wheeling and dealing.
And for Emma, who having gotten the details had chosen that weekend to pay the place a visit. With the upstairs safe opened, relieved of a few odds and ends (gems, watches, some actual currency) and closed back again, the nudest burglar was about to check out downstairs when she heard someone coming – she’d slid under the bed and planned to leave when whoever it was had left.
And that would have been how it played out had “it” not been a tall, well-built blonde with a little mole on the side of her face striding casually into the room, undressing and slipping out towards the bathroom humming a cheerful tune. Under the bed, Emma couldn’t see everything, but she could see her legs (and the blonde’s face reflected in the mirror), and once the lady was in the shower it was all clear for Emma Roberts to escape.
But her snatch was sending her another message, and her head was in agreement when it realised this could work to her advantage…
Fifteen minutes later, a newly cleaned Blake Lively came back in the room and almost leaped out of the towel and her skin on seeing Emma lying on the bed, wearing nothing but a smile.
“WHA-?!? Wait… who the–”
“Relax, I’m not his kid,” Emma said reassuringly.
“Of fucking course you’re not! Peter doesn’t have a kid!”
“But he does have a wife,” Emma pointed out. “And unless she went to the greatest plastic surgeon ever, I’m pretty sure it isn’t you. Like they say in Britain, I’ve got you by the short and curlies.”
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Blake huffed, dripping on the carpet.
“Polishing the furniture, what do you think?!” the younger woman snapped, at which point Blake noticed the small bag lying next to her and it all became clear – no way was that just her makeup in there. This time SHE smiled.
“Oh yeah, caught in the act… I got you.”
“And *I* got YOU. I’d like to see you and Mr. Hoity-Toity CEO Peter Shore explain what you’re doing here, and I get the feeling you’re the kind of girl who doesn’t like to be in one place too long.”
Checkmate. Blake fumed, heading to the dresser as Emma smirked. “How much more do you want…?”
“To keep quiet? C’mon, blondie, we’re in the same boat! All I want is a clean getaway with what I got.”
Blake visibly relaxed…
“And you,” Emma added.
…and tensed up again. “You what?”
“There are only two things Shore and I agree on – we hate the Yankees, and we both get turned on by tall bubble-butt blondes,” Emma continued, loving the shock shuddering across Blake’s face. “Honestly I could have been gone by now, but I got a look at you while I was hiding – I know you don’t belong here, and I couldn’t let all that go to waste…”
Blake struggled to regain the power of speech.
“Hey, I’m not asking you to play Russian roulette! Come on, you seem like the kind of girl to try anything once…”
“I don’t do girls,” Blake snapped. “Ever. This,” she added, pointing to her body, “is for guys only.”
“Sorry, girlie. Either I go down… or we both go down.”
Ever since she’d been a teen Blake had been happy to take part in lineups where she was the only girl, but she had never, ever been bi-curious. Not even now, with Emma’s nubile body all naked and ready before her – but she knew that the girl meant it. As she undid the towel, she looked for a way out of this… “You know, we could wait for Peter to come back – I could say you’re a friend of mine who I called up; what’s wrong with letting him have two for the price of one?”
“What’s wrong with that is that I like guys as people and they’ve got their uses, but that thing between their legs? E” Emma’s spirits shot up an instant later as the towel fell to the floor, exposing Blake’s freshly cleaned nudity. The burglar surveyed Blake from tip to toe; damn, she was PERFECT. The legs, the snatch, the jugs, the little mole on her face – Emma almost licked her lips.
“Can you turn around for a bit? I like to get an idea of the whole package.”
Resisting the urge to hit her, Blake turned around and tried to not feel flattered at Emma’s whistle. The girl had a sweet ass… plump and beautiful, best one she’d seen up close since that Australian redhead who’d stayed with her family one year (plus she let Emma play with it any time she wanted – Emma missed her).
She could have looked at it all day and all night, but she had stuff to do; as Blake turned forward again the girl rested her hands on the blonde’s arms, stretched herself up and planted a kiss on her lips. She expected Blake to pull back a little, but that didn’t take away from how soft they were; Emma flicked her tongue inside Blake’s mouth for a little bonus before moving back, ignoring the murderous look in her eyes.
“When’s sugar daddy coming back?” she asked, caressing the blonde’s face.
“He said around six,” Blake managed to reply calmly.
“We got plenty of time… not enough to do your ass ’cause he might wonder why you can’t walk, but…”
Blake was thankful for small mercies as Emma began to kiss her face and shoulders, stroking her hair and licking the skin. “You just stand there, hot stuff – I’ll do all the work…”
There wasn’t a sound other than Blake’s heavy breathing as she stood there, wishing she could just grab this… this GIRL and throw her out the window. And now Emma was cupping Blake’s breasts, both of them swamping her small hands; Emma spent what seemed like eight weeks gently suckling each of her perfect nipples, but what was really only about five or ten minutes. Blake rolled her eyes as Miss Roberts rested her head against them and actually let out a blissful sigh.
“You know, if I looked like you I’d skip clothes all the time. Seriously.”
She climbed off the bed and slowly sank to her knees, caressing the blonde’s long body as she did. Spreading her hands on Blake’s cheeks, she began to squeeze and stroke the soft flesh while gazing on her ready pussy. Emma mentally tossed a coin – heads she’d go for the front entrance, tails she’d enter the rear.
It was heads. But first she kissed the inside of Blake’s right thigh, and began to slowly lick down, pausing every now and then to leave a little kiss as her fingers enjoyed the warm flesh. She glanced upwards every now and then, eyeing the blonde’s open and waiting cunt. Kissing Blake’s feet, Emma moved up with her hands stroking her legs, wishing she could stretch this out longer. But it was dinner time…
Blake normally loved looking down on whoever was having a munch, but in her mind it was not a 19-year-old girl sliding her tongue up the blonde’s cunt. It was a boy. A boy with very slim fingers that were busy stroking her ass and slipping deep into her asshole, but a boy. She kept staring straight ahead, into the mirror on the other side of the room, looking directly at herself. She didn’t dare let her eyes go any lower than her breasts, otherwise she’d have seen Emma Roberts’s long-tressed head pressed against her crotch, moving from side to side as she became the first female ever to taste what she had there.
Blake found herself getting warmer; despite herself she started to shudder with… no, it wasn’t delight. No. No, Emma’s mouth and caresses were not making her want to touch this girl. She took her mind back to every boy in class she’d let look up her skirts – every teacher who’d given her a break in school in exchange for some fun – that man across the road from her house who watched her undress before bed – the boy she’d babysat who she’d given his best birthday present ever… anyone to get… away from how this girl was… making… her…
As Blake’s hands slammed on Emma’s shoulders and the tall woman groaned, Emma felt the discharge on her lips. Blake tasted SO good; she’d picked a good one for her first straight woman. The delighted brunette removed her lips from the disgusted blonde and lay back.
“Fantastic,” Emma smiled, slapping Blake’s ass as she walked over to get dressed. “By the way, I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours… fucking strangers is cool, but nameless strangers? Like Sicky Vicky always says, not cool.”
“Fine,” Blake muttered as she opened the wardrobe. “Devon.”
“Your *real* name.”
“Blake,” she said, gritting her teeth. “Blake Lively.”
“I just bet you are,” Emma chuckled as she got up, grabbing her haul. “Emma Roberts. Nice doing business with you, and your secret’s safe with me…”
Wishing she could stay to watch Blake get dressed, Emma left the regular way – she would usually have slipped out through the window, but since Blake knew she was there she could have just strolled down the stairs, walked out through the front door and headed for the woods where her clothes were. Thus she was whistling a happy little tune as she walked downstairs… perfect. No harm, no foul, a safe clean getaway, and fucking one of the hottest girls she’d ever met – this was her smoothest job ever.
Except for the two powerful security guards and their Dobermans waiting just outside the door when she opened it.
A split second later, Emma Roberts slammed the door and ran for the side entrance, knowing they’d likely be heading towards the back and mentally cursing that lying blonde ho. Safe passage her frequently cored ass…
Upstairs, Blake Lively heard the sound of plate glass crashing (as Emma leaped through the glass doors on the side without opening them first) and the snarls of the Dobermans pursuing the teenager (who, annoyingly, would escape – but she’d had to abandon her loot for the first and only time in her career). Fondling the phone she’d called the guards with as soon as that dyke robber left, she smiled.
“I told you,” she cooed to the absent Emma. “This is for guys only.”
* * * * * * * * * *
“So, yeah, I had to break through one of the plate-glass doors on the side of the house, and then SOMEONE,” Emma said, glaring at Blake, “let loose some Dobermans on my tail. I had to run naked through the woods for two hours, and one of the dogs bit my ass! Left a scar and everything!”
“Ooh, can we see?” Grace Park asked hopefully. Everyone ignored her.
“You blackmailed me, you dyke,” Blake said. “You tried to rob my employer-”
“You mean the guy who paid you for sex?” Emma cut in. Blake kept right on ranting.
“I had every right to send security after you,” Blake said. “After all, you molested me.”
“And you sent man-eating monsters after me,” Emma shot back. “I’d say we’re even.”
“Are you two going to be able to work together?” Rhona asked as Emma and Blake looked at each other, neither one looking ready to back down.
“Of course,” Blake said, with a forced air of cheeriness after a moment. “So long as she sleeps in a different room at night.”
“Emma?” Rhona asked, her voice taking on a school-marm-ish tone.
“Don’t really have a choice, do we?” Emma sighed. “I can work with Blondie here, and I won’t even try to slip into her bed at night.”
“Excellent, then let’s go over the plan,” Rhona said, before Blake could start complaining about Emma‘s comment. “Grace, the slides, if you would be so kind.”
“One slide show, coming up,” Grace said, clicking her wireless mouse. The TV screen on the far wall came to life, and the girls all turned to face it.
“This is the San Francisco Union Bank, where the lovely Miss Shay Mitchell has been hiding out,” Grace said as an image of the outside of the bank came up. “The nearest police station is exactly 17 minutes away, and on any given Tuesday, SFUB happens to hold the cash deposits of some 13 local businesses, generally totally something around 15 million dollars in cash.”
“If we can hit the bank before noon, most of that cash won’t yet be in the safe itself,” Shay spoke up. “Though there’s a lot more cash in the safe.”
“Which is why you’ll be taking both.” Rhona said. “Next slide, Grace.”
“Shay’s gone over all the various cameras and the security guards – two guys, neither of them particularly impressive.”
“But they’re both men who are easily distracted by a pretty face,” Rhona said. “Blake, your job will be to distract and disable the guards.”
“I’ll have to wear something low-cut,” Blake said.
“Hope they don’t have any female temps working that day,” Emma grumbled under her breath.
“Grace will be out in the van with Megan,” Rhona continued, shooting nasty looks at the two feuding babes. “When Blake enters the bank, Grace will shut down the security systems, including the cameras. Once Blake has disabled the guards, Roselyn, Jaime, and Emma will enter and help Blake start the hold up.”
“What kind of weapons will we have?” Jaime asked.
“Emma and Blake will have Berretta 9mm pistols, while you and Roselyn will have MP5 submachine guns.”
“Ooh, a personal favorite.”
“Wait a second,” Emma said. “I know Blake will need to keep her gun hidden in whatever slinky seduction dress she’s wearing, but why do I get the pop gun?”
“Because you will have to crack the safe open,” Rhona said. “And you’ll need both hands to do that.”
“So four of us rob a bank, and I’ve gotta crack the safe all by myself?” Emma said, mentally reviewing the photos she’d been looking at earlier. She could do it, but it wouldn’t be easy; the thickness of the door aside, autodial wouldn’t be her friend on this one (like the info said, putting in the combo ahead of time would bring in the police). And it didn’t just have one lock; it had TWO, and she knew with this model that if they weren’t opened at EXACTLY the same time, the safe would stay shut.
“You won’t be quite alone,” Rhona said. “Once you have control of all the customers and tellers, you will take Shay down to the safe room. Shay will act like she’s being forced, but once you’re both out of sight of the rest of the civilians, Shay can assist you in your safe cracking efforts.”
“Good, I’ll need a third hand for a few things,” Emma said. “Especially with two locks. And the door.”
“Okay,” Shay replied with a smile towards the teenager. “I’ve done a little bit of safecracking myself – nothing like this, but I’ve got steady hands.”
“You two should spend some time together,” Rhona said. “Learn how each other works before the heist.”
“So, teenie-bopper here cracks the safe, and she and leggy take what they can from inside,” Jaime spoke up. “The rest of us grab what we can of the money out front, and then we hot-foot it to the car?”
“Not exactly,” Rhona said. “There’s one more thing that needs to be done first, and that’s a job I’m intrusting to you, Roselyn.”
“Me?” Roselyn asked.
“There’s an unmarked office that has a security camera over it,” Rhona continued. “When you’re gathering up the hostages, I want you to check that room to make sure no one’s in it.”
“Of course,” Roselyn said. You always made sure there wasn’t anyone hiding with a cellphone, calling the cops.
“While you’re in the office, you will put this USB drive into the computer you’ll find on the desk,” Grace said, holding up a small black thumb drive.
“Why?” Shay asked.
“Let’s just say that computer has information on it, and this drive will allow Grace here to access it,” Rhona said.
“You’re not going to tell the rest of us?” Megan asked.
“No. You seven will split whatever cash you can get out of the bank – and by all means, take however much you possibly can. All I want is for that drive to be inserted into that computer for two minutes. After that, you’re making your own profit.”
“And providing a distraction for your real goal,” Roselyn said.
“I knew you were the brains of this group, Papi,” Rhona said, smiling seductively at the Latina.
“So, after we get the cash, then we get to the car and run for it, right?” Jaime asked.
“No. You’ll have to get past the cops, first,” Rhona said, almost too casually.
“The cops?!” Roselyn, Jaime, Emma, Blake and Shay all exclaimed at once.
“The nearest police station is 17 miles away, but the nearest cop CAR is no more than five – it’s a set patrol,” Grace said.
“I need more than five minutes to crack this safe,” Emma said at once. “Even if I bring some nitro to speed it up it won’t help that much.”
“Exactly. That’s why you’ll take hostages,” Rhona said. “I have certain… connections within the SFPD that’ll help ease matters a bit, but you’ll need to take a couple of civilians hostage on your way out – Emma, you use Shay as your cover, as that will help maintain her cover.”
“So, wait, all seven of us, plus three hostages and all of nerdy-girl’s computer stuff?” Megan said. “What am I driving, a school bus?”
“A cargo van,” Rhona said. “I’m sorry if that doesn’t live up to your usual expensive tastes.”
“I’m just thinking I might have to outrun the cops,” Megan replied. “Not easy in a cargo van.”
“Again, I have connections that will make that a bit easier,” Rhona reminded them. “But we will require your particular skill with motor vehicles, Megan.”
“Guess I don’t really have a choice,” Megan said.
“None of you do,” Rhona reminded them. “I’ve got information on all of you, and trying to back out now will only get you all killed or worse.”
“And when we’re done with all this, you’ll have even more on us,” Roselyn pointed out.
“What’s that old saying?” Rhona asked. “‘Ain’t life a bitch?’”
“Someone around here certainly is,” Roselyn said defiantly.
“Yes, well, this bitch can have your family killed, so be good, Miss Sanchez,” Rhona said darkly. “The heist happens on Tuesday, which means you have two days. Don’t go far, girls. And if you do, believe me, I’ll know.”
“Gee, Mom, are we not supposed to drink, either?” Megan asked sarcastically.
“Today and tomorrow? Go right ahead – there’s a rather… colorful bar just down the street,” Rhona said. “But no drinking on the day of the heist, or I’ll skin you alive.”
“Right, right – don’t drink and drive the getaway vehicle, Megan,” Fox muttered. “Not like I haven’t heard THAT line before.”
* * * * * * * * * *
The City by the Bay, the city that rocks, the city that never sleeps… the city that Shay Mitchell had decided not to take advantage of right now. She wasn’t as familiar with San Francisco as some of her colleagues, and if this job went as well as everyone hoped she wouldn’t get much time to know the place better. But Shay wasn’t the only member of the group who hadn’t gone out in search of wine, woman/man and song; one and only one other member had elected to stay on base.
“Sure you don’t want to go out with the others?” Shay asked Emma Roberts as they sat side by side on the sofa.
“Dead sure,” laughed Emma. “If I have to spend too much time next to Blake one of us – by which I mean the world’s biggest slut – might end up taking a dip off the Golden Gate. Plus I could use a night in.”
“Running around naked all the time – I couldn’t do your job like you,” Miss Mitchell admitted.
“Well, I couldn’t do YOURS,” Miss Roberts replied with a smile. “Keeping your head down, staying quiet, working in an office… drive me nuts.”
“We’ll make a good team in the vault.” They shook hands, Shay’s eyes lighting up on contact.
“So are you up for some Guitar Hero or something? Or whatever you want to do to pass the time… poker? Parcheesi?”
“Parcheesi?! Well, I could think of something,” Emma chuckled, as Shay scanned her, really wanting to ask what kind of something she had in mind, but afraid she might get the wrong answer. Ever since Emma had told the departing women that she was just going to chill out around the place Shay had been dancing inside, and she wanted Emma to keep sending that smile her way, the way she had the moment she’d seen the young safecracker (young? Shay was only a few years older than Emma) curled up going over the plans, from the waves of her hair to the legs tucked under her.
“Can I see your hands?”
“Sure,” Shay answered, proferring them to Emma. Her fingers were long and slim, and steady as Emma felt them – although inside Shay was shaking as the teenager studied the hands, nodding.
“You said you’ve done some break-ins?”
“One or two. Pretty simple jobs.”
“You’ve got good hands,” Emma said, probing them. “Feel strong, but don’t look that way…”
No longer maintaining a professional interest, Emma’s hands slowly moved along Shay’s wrists and up her arms. The other girl smiled demurely without resisting – not that she would have…
“Is this what you were thinking?”
Emma’s eyes did the real answering. “We’ve got to work together,” her mouth said. “If I’m making you nervous, you can just say no.”
“I’m not Blake,” Shay said quietly.
Emma leant in and kissed Shay on the lips. “You taste nice.”
“Thank you,” she replied, feeling her heart racing. Shay would never, ever, in a million years, have made the first move; until she’d looked in her eyes the idea that this beautiful young girl wanted her too would never have occurred to her. Sighing blissfully, she returned the kiss as Emma moved her hands down, getting the bottom of Shay’s shirt and lifting it off her, revealing her bra-covered torso. Her hands finally starting to tremble a little, Shay undid Emma’s shirt as her bra was unclipped by the safecracker, and both pairs of breasts were unveiled at the same time.
“Wow,” both said together, admiring the other’s chest. Shay lowered her head and flicked her tongue over Emma’s smallish rack, liking how it felt almost as much as she liked the way Emma’s fingers were stroking her own larger chest. Shay wished she was telepathic, then she could ask Emma to start sucking on her jugs…
Emma ran her hands down Shay’s warm body, patting her backside. So nice… folding the girl into her arms as Shay continued to taste her breasts, Emma sank back onto the sofa. “Wanna see the scar?”
“What scar…?” Shay murmured.
“The one Grace Park wanted to see. The one on my butt.”
“As long as it’s not too gross. Not that it would put me off…” Shay added, nuzzling Emma’s stomach before rolling off her. Emma was up at once, slipping off her jeans; Shay, undoing her own pants, considered asking her if she always went around without underwear. Then as she finished disrobing she didn’t consider anything, studying Emma’s pale and interesting butt cheeks; there was definitely a scar on the left one – Emma had been lucky the Doberman hadn’t torn out a piece. The little mark ran down about an inch or two, standing out on her skin, and it ruined the rump not at all. No wonder Grace wanted to see.
“It’s beautiful,” Shay murmured, caressing it.
“The scar, the ass… your whole body.” Shay lightly kissed the scar and moved her tongue along its length, feeling the flesh of Emma’s ass before she pressed her face on the cleft. Emma’s smile got even wider, along with her eyes, as the quiet young Shay smoothly moved around to the front, her tongue tracing a path as she did. “I always do the front first,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“I’d mind if you didn’t do anything,” Emma replied, resting her hands on Shay’s head as she arrived at her box; Shay kissed and licked her friend’s button and lips eagerly, inhaling and tasting her snatch and going as deep inside as she could while fondling Emma’s thighs and ass. Mmmm… it was so sweet and wet; Shay didn’t want to stop, and from the way Emma was gripping her head she could tell the feeling was mutual. But duty called; Shay gently removed Emma’s hands and movied back behind her.
She slid her tongue inside her back passage and began to eat, her fingers moving around the front and probing Emma’s box. Emma moaned softly as she enjoyed Shay’s mouth and the way her fingers dipped into her cunt, stroking and probing and revving her up. For someone so quiet, Shay was really working it back there; her mouth was tasting and sucking Emma’s rear entrance like it was another pussy. Which was just how Emma liked it; some girls were tentative and half-hearted with their dabbling, but Shay was eager to please. And she was succeeding…
Way too little time later, Shay moved back up around Emma and kissed her, their breasts pressed together and Emma getting an idea of what her ass and cunt tasted like. As Shay embraced Emma, the latter reached inside the bag on the table next to them and rummaged around – she couldn’t see what was in there but she knew what she was looking for, and if she could locate stuff in the dark finding what she needed like this would be a piece of cake. When the kiss broke, Emma brandished what she was looking for; her portable friend. Not her cellphone, the other one; the sizeable dildo that had come in hand with targets on more than one occasion.
Eyes and smile widening, Shay slid back and lay down, her legs slightly apart as Emma wielded the happy generator, smiling down at her lover, and made a revolving motion – and almost reconsidered when Shay hesitated.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she said nervously. “I mean, I’ve thought about it. It’s just that…”
“You’ve never had it back there before,” Emma finished, nodding sympathetically. “What if I gave you my word it wouldn’t hurt much?”
Shay studied the length of the dildo as Emma clicked it; moving silently into action, tiny holes opened on its surface, releasing lotion over it. “Self-lubricating,” she explained. “Amazing what technology can do. And if it hurts at all, tell me and it’s over right there.”
“Well… okay,” Shay replied, turning over and presenting Emma with her behind, and causing her to think this should be called the Perfect Ass Collective. Megan, Grace, even (damn her hide) Blake… not a pancake among the lot, and Shay’s silken cheeks were no exception. Almost – ALMOST – as nice as her tits.
Not for the first time, Emma regretted the lack of straps – having two hands free to stroke that ass would have been a plus, but when life gives you lemons, and so on. She placed the tip of the dildo on Shay’s little starfish, running it around the rim slowly before starting to push it in. Shay gave a little cry out as it entered, and Emma started to pull back.
“No… keep going…”
Emma pushed it forward and back slowly, each time venturing a little deeper inside, rubbing one of Shay’s buns with each thrust and listening to her partner’s groans. She had to put some effort into each movement, which Emma liked – some sluts she had been with had such gaping holes you could fit a bus inside them lengthways, but Shay’s was tighter than her mother’s wallet. It was times like this that Emma almost – ALMOST – wished she had a cock so she could really feel herself sliding back and forth inside Shay’s asshole…
Shay’s groans and gasps increased as she pumped, gradually going deeper and speeding up. The young woman was starting to claw at the cushions, finding herself liking the device boring up her as she started sweating and steaming. She didn’t want Emma to stop… she didn’t know her butt could feel so good. “Uhhhh…. oh yes Emma… fuck me, Emma Roberts!” she found herself shouting as the safecracker shoved harder, her ass hurting her blissfully. Shay screamed up to the ceiling as her body shoved back against the device and against Emma, who felt the woman shaking as she came with cries of joy.
Emma held the quivering, sweaty Shay as she delicately removed the dildo, and put in into her mouth like a popsicle. This was another thing she liked to do when she took someone’s backdoor cherry; as Shay lay there panting and coming down, she couldn’t see Emma sucking off the residue of her asshole. But from the contented “Um”s and slurping sounds, she had an idea; and from the free hand caressing her back, Shay had a feeling Emma liked what she was sucking.
“All done,” Emma said way too little time later, handing it over to Shay as she gingerly turned over.
“I’m… not sure I’m ready for *that* yet.”
“No rush; you can leave that bit out when it’s your turn.”
“Front or back?” Shay asked, smiling.
“Front. I want to see your eyes… when you’re ready.”
Emma and Shay embraced, petting each other and waiting for the dusky young woman to recover from her first anal. Shay was right; they’d make a great team in the vault.
* * * * * * * * * *
When Rhona Mitra had claimed the bar down the street was “colorful,” Blake had rather mistakenly believed she meant it was just outside of trendy, some undiscovered little San Francisco gem that any second now would bubble over into the local consciousness and become the hippest, hottest place in town, filled with local celebrities, high rollers, and all the money they brought with them.
Instead, the place was a dive.
Well, to be fair, it had all its lights working, the music in the juke box wasn’t more than 5 years out-of-date, and the regulars didn’t look like their last bath had been in the FIRST Bush administration, so it wasn’t the worst place Blake had ever ducked into to get a drink. But she certainly wasn’t going to get rich on any targets in this place.
“Oh, this is perfect,” Jaime Pressly said, her eyes going wide at the place. “I bet they’ve got dollar draft specials and a condom machine in the ladies room, too.”
“If you think I’m using the ladies room here-” Blake started to say, but Megan Fox just brushed past her on her way in, catching the Blonde’s arm and dragging her inside.
“Come on, Legs McBlondie,” Jaime said, helping Megan drag Blake in. “It’s come drink with us, or go back to the hideout and have a really awkward night with the teenager who took your cherry.”
“That’s not funny-” Blake started to protest, but by then she was down the three steps and into the bar, which smelled faintly of stale beer and watermelon, for some strange reason.
“Or you could go with Roselyn and Grace – I think they were going to look for a gay bar or something.”
“In San Francisco? That’ll take all of ten seconds,” Jaime snorted.
“Actually, I think Grace was going to try and find an internet connection away from Rhona’s stuff, and Roselyn was going to call home or something,” Blake said as Jaime sat the three women down at the bar. Despite the hour, the place wasn’t exactly hopping.
“Ladies,” the bartender nodded towards them. He was a man in his mid-to-late thirties, clearly a bit of a muscle freak, as his tight black t-shirt clung to his biceps. He looked both too old and too young to be tending bar in a place like this, and Blake found herself wondering, if just for a moment, if he owned the place or just worked here. “What can I get you?” he asked.
“Beer me,” Jaime said.
“Ditto,” Megan added.
“And you?” the bartender asked Blake.
“Uh, how’s the wine selection?”
“Boxed,” the bartender said, straight-faced.
“Oh,” Blake replied. “Uh, I guess I’ll have a rum and coke then.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said, heading down the bar and leaving the girls alone for a moment.
“What’s the matter, you too good for beer?” Jaime asked.
“Never really got a taste for it. Too sour, and it doesn’t get the job done fast enough,” Blake said, reaching into her purse for her mirror.
“Too sour? What the fuck beer have you been drinking?” Jaime asked.
“Lay off,” Megan warned.
“Or what, Tatts?” Jaime asked. “You going to defend Legs McBlondie’s honor?”
“No, but I won’t help you get laid tonight,” Megan shot back.
“Whoa, whoa – who says I need help getting laid?” Jaime demanded as their drinks arrived.
“When was the last time you got laid?”
“When I was in Chicago, right before I got the call for this gig,” Jaime said.
“And let me guess, the guy totally wanted to bang you?”
“He did,” Jaime said. “He got all hot and bothered when I tied him and his wife to that bed and I-”
“Wait, you tied him AND his wife to his bed?” Blake asked, nearly spitting out her drink in the process.
“Well, yeah – I was robbing the place at the time.”
“Wait, wait – did this guy REALLY want to fuck you?” Megan asked.
“Well, he did. And then his wife totally creamed herself over me, too,” Jaime said nonchalantly.
“So, wait, you’re into girls?” Blake asked, feeling even more confused.
“Nah, not really,” Jaime said. “I mean, yeah, I’ll finger a few girls here and there, to get them to give up the goods. Or, you know, when there isn’t a good cock around. Or if she’s got expensive looking clit jewelry. Or-”
“Okay, Overshare!” Blake said quickly.
“I think my point stands,” Megan said. “You need help getting laid without forcing yourself on a guy – or a girl.”
“Oh, like you do much better?” Jaime asked.
“I do alright,” Megan said, taking a long pull on her beer. “Never had to force a guy, that’s for sure.”
“Maybe I like forcing guys,” Jaime said.
“Maybe you do,” Megan agreed. “But can you get a guy without forcing him?”
“I’m sure I can,” Jaime said confidently. “That’s if there was a cock in this entire place worth banging.” Blake saw the older blonde scowl as both she and Megan scanned the room. The bar was a collection of overweight losers, biker wannabes, not-quite-as-closeted-as-they-think-they-are gays, and married men looking to get away from their wives. It wasn’t the most promising of selections, Blake had to admit.
“Okay, if this doesn’t improve by our next drink, I’m going to start daring you two to pick up losers,” Megan said with a sigh, taking a long pull on her beer.
“Fuck that, I’ll tap your ass before I take a bet on fucking some of the guys in here,” Jaime snorted.
“Don’t tempt me,” Megan said. “I see a guy in the corner who’s gotta weigh over 300 with your name all over him.”
“Fuck off, Tatts. I’ll go find a guy on the street,” Jaime shot back.
Blake rolled her eyes. These two clearly weren’t the brains of the operation. “You two are incorrigible,” she muttered, glancing around the bar one more time. With that she smiled, undid two buttons on her blouse, and hiked up her skirt a bit more. “Make yourselves pretty and come with me.” With that, Blake hopped off her stool and started walking towards the far end of the room.
There were five of them, all in business casual, their ties either severely loosened or discarded altogether. They were no doubt in town for a business meeting or a convention or something, and were clearly trying their best to blow off some steam with a game of pool in a dive joint like this. Blake had already seen all five of them check out the ass of a passing waitress, so San Francisco’s dubious reputation for homosexuality wouldn’t be an issue, and judging by the number of empties the waitress had taken away from them, Blake wouldn’t have to work TOO hard.
“Hello,” Blake said, trying to sound as innocent and charming as she could as she approached the men.
“Hello!” two of them said at once, their eyes locked on the cleavage spilling out of Blake’s blouse.
“My name’s Serena, and these are my friends Mikaela and Joy,” she said, pointing to Megan and Jaime in that order. “We’re in town for a couple of days, and we were hoping to find someone who’d show us a good time. Are you boys locals?”
“Uh, no, we’re in town for the Regional Sales Convention,” one the guys said, which quickly earned him a slap to the back of head from one of his companions.
“Oh, too bad,” Blake said. “Joy, Mikaela, what do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Megan said. “Can you guys still show a couple of girls a good time?”
“I think we can,” one of the guys said. “Have any of you ever played pool?”
“A little,” Blake said. “But I’m not very good.”
“We’ll teach you,” a third guy said, handing her the cue while two of the others rushed to re-rack the balls.
“Well, good. I’m sure I need lessons,” Blake said, bending over the table until her back was parallel with the table, her ass sticking out well behind her and distracting anyone on that side of the table – anyone in the front would be distracted by her tits practically falling out onto the table as she lined up her shot.
Ten minutes later, Blake had run the table and won 80 bucks from the guys. Twenty minutes after that, all three girls were being ushered into a hotel room a couple of blocks away, three VERY eager boys more than ready to get into their panties.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Mmmm… I think I’ve got a craving for brunette tonight.”
“Say what?” Roselyn Sanchez ask as she and Grace Park stopped in the doorway to The G-String, an all-too-trendy lesbian bar that was trying hard to be as loud and colorful as possible while milking every woman in the place for drinks. Not wanting to spend any more time with Jaime, Roselyn had happily agreed to go searching for a more Gay-friendly place. In San Francisco, it shouldn’t have taken long, but they’d already skipped past three joints that were decidedly Gay MEN only.
“Why is it that gay tolerance only extends to men?” Roselyn smiled, hearing her beloved’s voice in her mind. Nothing pissed Alicia Keys off more than the rapidly increasing gender divide in Gay Rights. Alicia could rant for hours on how Gay Men were becoming third class citizens in the country, while lesbians were rapidly being shoved down to fourth or even fifth-class. Of course, Alicia had written her College Thesis on how Lesbians were ignored in media outside of porn.
Roselyn would’ve agreed with Alicia more, but every time Alicia got worked up on the subject, and her nose started to scrunch up, Roselyn got turned on something awful, and they ended up fucking for a couple of hours.
A pair of gorgeous black women wearing little more than bras and panties walked past Roselyn, making the Latina’s blood boil just a little bit more.
“Oh, fantastic – this place has WiFi,” Grace said, her eyes swapping between her smart phone and the lovely ladies that crowded the joint.
“Can I help you two?”
Roselyn and Grace turned around to see a short, petite brunette wearing a nearly see-through shirt, sans bra, standing behind them, holding an empty serving tray and clearly running her eyes hungrily up and down the two new arrivals.
“You work here?” Roselyn asked. The girl didn’t look much over 20 years old, but had the eyes of a far older soul – one who knew all sorts of dirty things she could do with a pair of hot lesbians like Roselyn and Grace.
“Yes ma’am,” the girl said, eyeing Roselyn’s tits openly. “My name is Alessandra. Alessandra Torresani, and for you two, the first round is on me.”
“Ooh, fun,” Grace said as Alessandra lead them into the press of hot, half-naked bodies towards a booth. Grace’s eyes were locked on Alessanra’s ass – which was hugged by her skirt tight enough to be a second skin. Soon the two criminals were seated, their sexy waitress gone off into the crowd to fetch their drinks.
“So, you wanna flip for her?” Grace asked, her eyes locked on her phone.
“The hot waitress?” Grace said, not looking up. “I think she likes you more than me, so if you want her, go for it. But if not, I’m totally getting into those panties.”
“You go ahead,” Roselyn said with a sigh. “I’m in a committed relationship.”
“You sure?” Grace said.
“I’m sure,” Roselyn said, looking about the place again. “Say, can I borrow your phone?”
“Sure, what for?” Grace asked, still not looking up from the device.
“To make a phone call?”
“Really? People still make phone calls?” That actually got Grace to look up at Roselyn.
“Of course they do. That’s why they call them phones.”
“I do most of my communicating through text message,” Grace said, handing over the phone. “Here you go, talk all you want – it’s hacked, so the bill doesn’t go to me anyway. Just don’t be surprised if I’m putting the moves on our hot waitress by the time you get back.”
“Good luck to you then,” Roselyn said, taking the phone and looking for the nearest quiet corner.
* * * * * * * * * *
Megan Fox didn’t know which of the boys’ hotel room this was, but she already wished it belonged to someone else – or that they’d at least brought a third bed with them. The room barely held the two twin beds, a small desk, and a loveseat that was covered with his suitcase and at least a day’s worth of dirty clothes. And now all three couples were sliding into this same room, intent on using it for their own sexual needs, and Megan was quite certain she wasn’t going to get one of the beds.
For one thing, Jaime practically pushed the sandy-haired man she’d chosen onto the nearest bed, where she began to rip his pants off, literally breaking his zipper in the process. The older blonde was clearly in need, and intended to use the poor boy for her own needs. He seemed eager, his cock tenting the boxers Jaime shredded with her bare hands next, but Megan had a feeling he wouldn’t be enough for Jaime tonight.
Blake’s boy, on the other hand, seemed almost too much of a perfect gentleman, cupping her long blonde locks in one of his hands as he gently lowered her to the other bed, whispering sweet nothings in her ear as his free hand began to run up Blake’s leg. Megan suspected the blonde was playing the ingénue for her toy for the night – she certainly hadn’t seemed as innocent earlier in the day, when she’d been complaining about what Emma Roberts had done to her. But she was totally letting her boy control the action, all the way to seeming shy and hesitant when he pulled her panties down off her legs from under her skirt.
Megan turned back to the handsome, dark-haired boy she’d chosen from the travelers they’d met at the bar, who was feverishly clearing the crap off the love seat. Megan sighed to herself, realizing that her last sex had taken place on a couch, too – of course, Rhona Mitra had come along to ruin that particular event, and Megan wouldn’t be that surprised if the sexy mastermind managed to ruin this one, too.
Still, there weren’t a lot of other options, and from the way the others in the room were shedding their clothes and getting all hot and nasty, Megan could either fuck on the couch or the floor, and the couch had some cushions on it at the very least.
“You are so hot,” Megan’s boy said, turning to face her. “You are so, so hot.”
“Okay, you can shut up and get naked now,” Megan told him, sliding out of her leather jacket. She didn’t have much on underneath, just a leather bustier that shoved her already impressive breasts out far enough to draw every man’s eyes, and leather pants that clung to her legs and ass like the second skin Megan often thought they were. Getting out of the bustier wasn’t a problem, as Megan could just reach for the zipper under her left arm. The pants were a bit more of a challenge since they clung so tightly to her, but she usually managed without too much trouble.
Of course, in the time it took Megan to undo the zipper on her bustier, her companion for the evening had shed his shirt and pants, and was tenting his boxers in a not-unappealing way. With her tits swinging free, happy to feel the cool air upon her skin, Megan dropped to her knees in front of the boy – what WAS his name? – and started fishing around for his still-hidden cock.
“Mmmm, someone’s excited,” Megan said, finding his throbbing member right away – it was hard to hide something that big inside boxers anyway, but still, boys liked to hear that kind of thing. “I can’t wait to feel this inside me.”
“Oh yeah,” Megan’s boy said, clearly enjoying the sensation of Megan’s hands upon his shaft.
“Mmmm, I can’t wait. I’m going to have to taste this,” Megan said, going through some of the lines she used on boys all the time. She yanked his boxers down enough to expose his shaft, and almost immediately wrapped her lips around it.
As Megan began to feast upon her boy’s cock, she could hear the other girls behind her, starting to go at it with their companions. Or rather, she could hear Jaime, anyway. The bossy older blonde was ordering her man around like he was a slave or something – which, knowing Jaime even as little as Megan did, wasn’t all that surprising.
“On you knees, boy,” Jaime demanded. “Let’s see if you can eat pussy like a good little slut, or if I’m going to have to teach you.”
“Uh, yeah. Okay,” Megan heard the guy said, but Jaime snapped at him.
“NOW!” There was a small thump as the guy hit the ground, and Megan thought she heard him gasp in pain, no doubt as Jaime grabbed his hair and shoved his face between her legs. Oddly enough, the guy Megan was sucking on seemed to react to that, growing harder in Megan’s mouth. Indeed, his hands came down to gently hold Megan’s head and guide her back and forth upon his shaft, perhaps in time with whatever Jaime was doing.
Megan tried not to think about that and instead focused on the warm, hard meat between her lips. It wasn’t easy, as even with Jaime’s voice dropping into a series of semi-satisfied grunts, Blake’s voice started to filter into Megan’s ears.
“Wow, you are SO big,” Megan heard Blake say, in a soft but impressed voice that Megan was certain was a fake. Blake was an expert seductress, and she was laying it on thick for the guy she was with.
“Mmmm…” Blake moaned. “Oh, baby, I can’t wait to feel this inside me. Just – just be gentle, okay?
“Why – it’s not your first time, is it?” the guy responded, almost making Megan laugh aloud – she probably would have if she didn’t have a cock in her mouth.
“No, baby, but it’s been a while,” Blake said reassuringly. “Just go slow and I’ll let you know what to do.”
The room degenerated into a series of grunts and groans for a while, and Megan was able to work her attention back onto the throbbing meat between her mouth. Usually, Megan enjoyed sucking on a guy’s cock. There was nothing more primal, more personal, more base than taking a man’s most personal part of his body and lathering it with attention by way of her mouth.
But right now, with the sounds of more impressive sex going on behind her, she needed to feel her own private areas receiving some attention. It wasn’t the feel of the man’s cock between her lips that was making her wet, it was the moans and groans from Jaime and Blake behind her. And Megan wanted to get in on the moaning action herself.
Without warning, Megan pulled off the guy’s cock and stood up, glancing over her shoulder at the other two girls. The image of Jaime sitting on her bed, legs spread wide while she shoved her boy’s head into her crotch, and with Blake naked on her bed, her legs wrapped around the back of her companion for the evening, taking all of him inside her slowly while her ample tits jiggled with each thrust was almost more than Megan could take. She needed a cock in her, and she needed it in her now.
But she wanted to watch the other girls get fucked, too.
With a shove, Megan pushed the guy onto the loveseat, his eyes going wide in surprise as he fell. By the time he’d landed, Megan was already shucking her leather pants and the small thong she wore underneath.
“Whoa, nice-” was all the guy managed to eek out before Megan spun around and practically fell into his lap. She beat him back against the back of the seat with her butt, and reached between her legs, easily finding his hard shaft, still wet from her mouth work just moments ago. With practiced ease, Megan impaled herself upon his cock, and sank almost all the way down upon it in one swift, sure move.
The sensation of hot meat sliding between her wet folds was just what Megan needed, and she actually purred a bit as she leveled off. For a moment, she could do nothing but sit there, throbbing cock within her, eyes shut as she reveled in the pleasure that one single insertion had given her.
Then Jaime started yelling, and Megan had to open her eyes to see what was going on.
“God, you’re worthless as a pussy eater!” She said, physically throwing her guy away from her crotch. He landed on his ass, looking up at her with a face filled with girl cum and confusion. “I’ve had horses lick my cunt better than you, boy!” Jaime snarled, getting up on her knees on the bed.
“Horses?” Blake and Megan said at the same time. Jaime ignored them, though all four other people in the room were now watching the older blonde, even while they continued to have their own sexual encounters.
“Get your cock on this bed, now, boy, before I decide to chop it off and steal one of the other studs in this room,” Jaime said, clearly upset, even though the copious amount of pussy juice coating her crotch and inner thighs might argue how much she’d enjoyed her partner’s efforts.
The boy knew what was best for him, and rushed to get on the bed, his cock bobbing as he got next to Jaime. Jaime ran her hands down his semi-chiseled chest once, then shoved him onto his back. He bounced once on the bed, and then Jaime was atop him, impaling herself on his rock-hard shaft. Just jumping atop him seemed to knock the breath out of Jaime’s boy toy, and never really got a chance to recover, as Jaime started to ride him like a champion bull rider.
“Yeah, baby, there you go!” Jaime shouted. “Finally giving me something to feel!”
“Holy shit,” Megan’s boy muttered.
“Shut up and fuck me harder,” Megan hissed back at him, glancing over at Blake on the closer bed.
Blake still lay entangled with her boy, though her eyes were locked on what Jaime and her lover were doing. The younger blonde might have had some problems with lesbian sex, but she certainly didn’t seem to mind watching a woman dominate a man. Blake’s boy was watching the other bed, too, and he seemed to be try to match his thrusts to Jaime’s movements. Megan wondered how Blake felt about that.
Megan wondered if Blake even noticed, her eyes locked on Jaime’s every move.
Megan’s boy must have fallen under Jaime’s spell, too, because Megan felt him shift behind her, and then he, too, started to thrust in time with Jaime’s humping. He reared back as Jaime did, and shoved forward as Jaime came down upon her boy’s cock. It took Megan a second or two to get use to the new pattern, but she didn’t mind.
Now it was almost like Jaime was fucking Megan – at least, if she let herself imagine it.
“God, boy, you ain’t keeping up, are you?!” Jaime shouted down at her boy. “Do I need to get my strap-on and show you how a REAL man fucks?”
“N-no!” the guy said, clearly alarmed at the thought. Blake didn’t look much happier about the idea, but Megan felt herself get even wetter at the thought of Jaime strapping one on and having her way with everyone in the room. Just imaging that made Megan’s knees weak, and she stumbled forward.
She landed with a bounce upon Blake’s bed, her elbow just missing the Blonde’s head. “Hey!” Blake shouted in surprise, her eyes finally tearing away from Jaime.
“Sorry,” Megan said, trying to get up. But her boy was faster than she was, and practically landed atop her, his cock finding Megan’s ass and sliding inside with ease.
“Oh, FUCK!” Megan gasped as his throbbing member penetrated her backdoor, sliding a good third of the way in before Megan’s natural tightness finally stopped the girmcum lubricated prick.
“Sorry, wrong hole,” he said, pulling out.
“No, RIGHT hole!” Megan shouted. “Fuck my ass! Fuck my ass! Fuck it!” she insisted, actually drawing Jaime’s attention from her poor boy. It clearly took a moment for Megan’s fuck buddy to catch on, as he hesitated, as if not believing what Megan had just told him. His cock was still pressed into Megan’s back door, and the tattooed getaway driver decided to take maters into her own hands, so to speak, and shoved herself back upon his prick. Both of the cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure, but the boy got the message, and started fucking Megan’s tight little asshole.
“Now see that?” Jaime said, slapping her boy’s face. “THAT is how you please a woman!” She started pounding away at his crotch, her eyes locked on Megan. Blake’s attention was swapped now, too, and she had a much closer view of Megan’s face as the pleasure shooting through Megan’s body began to register in earnest upon her face. The harder the guy fucking Megan’s ass pounded, the more Megan’s lips pursed, the more her eyes fluttered, the more her breath brushed against Blake’s forehead.
Megan was barely aware of the effect she was having on the other girls in the room. Every thrust of cock into her ass was like ringing a bell in Megan’s head, and each ring marked her orgasm racing closer and closer. “Harder!” she gasped, and her boy responded at once, now driving his entire shaft in and out of Megan like a man possessed.
“Yes, harder!” Megan vaguely heard Blake say, and the bed started shaking as Blake’s guy started to mimic Megan’s fucktoy, thrust for thrust. Megan glanced over at Blake’s face, and was surprised to see the Blonde staring back at her, an impressive “o” forming out of her lips. Something about seeing that on Blake’s face made Megan even hotter, and she tried to crane her neck out to kiss the blonde, but was pulled back as her boy redoubled his grip upon her waist and started slamming her harder and harder.
Megan’s orgasm was building faster and faster now, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. Her ass was on fire, but it was the kind of fire she craved – that pleasure that was so close to pain it was exhilarating, like driving too fast down a crowded highway, the cops nipping at her heels. It was the good kind of sexy pain she felt when a lover slapped her face before licking her cunt, or pulled her hair hard to get her to deep-throat a cock. Megan could give out that pain as good as she got, but she didn’t care right now. She just wanted to cum, and cum hard.
“Fuck that bitch! Fuck her hard!” Megan heard Jaime practically screaming from across the room. The bossy blonde was still riding her boy like an old Harley on a particularly rough road, gripping and pulling on her own nipples, but she was watching Megan get it from behind. Blake was doing the same from where she lay, so close but just out of reach, clearly about to break through her own climax, too.
And then Megan just lost control, her orgasm blasting through what few defenses she had left. Her entire body seemed to just drop out from under her, sending her spiraling down into sexual bliss. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head until all she could see was images of Blake and Jaime’s faces.
Megan had a funny feeling she was going to have a craving for blondes for a while after this.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Popi! I didn’t expect to hear from you!” Roselyn Sanchez nearly shed a tear as she heard the sound of Alicia Keys voice through her borrowed phone. “You just missed Joshua – he was up for another feeding, but is back down now.”
“Don’t wake him – you should be sleeping, too,” Roselyn said. She was standing in the back alley behind The G-String, unable to find even a moderately quiet corner to make a phone call inside. She hoped Grace didn’t need her phone back soon, because now that she head Alicia’s voice, Roselyn wasn’t so sure she could hang up.
“You know I don’t sleep well without you, Popi,” Alicia replied. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. This is going to take a few more days to complete, but I’ll come home to you as soon as I can. To both of you.”
“Where are you?”
“Outside some lesbian bar in San Francisco,” Roselyn said. She figured if Grace had thought this phone safe enough to text from, she could probably talk to her beloved from. Though knowing Rhona Mitra, the phone was probably tapped on Alicia’s side. Still, she wasn’t telling Alicia what they were doing, and Rhona hadn’t said they couldn’t call home anyway.
“A lesbian bar? Are you so lonely you’d go to someone else to slate your thirsts, Popi?” Alicia asked, teasing Roselyn even if there was a kernel of jealousy in there somewhere.
“Hardly. I was barely inside long enough to get a table with one of my… co-workers.”
“Let me guess – all women again?” Alicia asked in that same tone.
“Aye, Alicia, all women – though at least one of them is straight.”
“Is she now? Well, don’t take that as a challenge for Mistress Delgado, Popi. I may let you get away with murder, but turning some other straight girl into your love slave is off the list.”
“If Mistress Delgado takes a new student, Miss Sykes, it is NOT your place to object,” Roselyn said, her voice a mix of playfulness, authority, and that inherent sultriness that came with her accent anyway. “But don’t you worry, she’s not my type.”
“She has a penis then?” Alicia joked.
“No, tall, blonde, leggy, utterly gorgeous,” Roselyn said. “Nothing I like at all.”
“You liar,” Alicia laughed. “I bet you’re thinking about getting between her legs as we speak.”
“Only because your legs aren’t here for me to get between, my love,” Roselyn said, leaning against the brick of the building. The rough surface against her back did little to dissuade her from thinking of the softness of Alicia’s skin. “I wish I could taste your juices right now, my love.”
“Mmmm, careful there, Popi, or I may have to start touching myself while you say things like that to me.”
Roselyn groaned aloud. She’d often had Alicia masturbate in front of her, and the sight never failed to turn Roselyn on something fierce. Now, just by saying that, Alicia had sent a hundred images of her masturbatory efforts flooding out of Roselyn’s memory, and it was all the gorgeous Puerto Rican could do not to slam her own fingers between her legs.
“Mmmm, do not tempt me, mi hermosa flor,” Roselyn pleaded quietly into the phone. She didn’t mean that at all -she wanted – NEEDED – Alicia to tease her over the phone. There was some commotion at the end of the alley as two girls came giggling out of the bar’s back entrance, but Roselyn ignored them. “I do not need to hear how your fingers and tracing circles around your sopping wet clit.”
“Oh, they aren’t doing that at all, Popi,” Alicia assured her. “My tiny pink panties are blocking them from doing that.”
“Oh, you bad girl – you know I don’t like you to wear panties to bed.”
“Mmmm, yes I’m a bad little girl who wishes her Mistress was here to spank her good for breaking all the rules.”
“All the rules?” Roselyn asked, noticing out of the corner of her eye that the two girls were quickly stripping each other right there in the alley, completely ignoring Roselyn or the security camera above the door.
“Well, maybe not ALL of them,” Alicia said. “I haven’t eaten all the strawberries we got before you left.”
“You might as well,” Roselyn said, edging closer to the two girls, both of who were now topless, one of them sucking on the other’s impressive tits. Roselyn could only make them out in silhouette, but they were a sight to behold. “They’ll go bad before I get home at this rate.”
“Too bad,” Alicia said. “I wanted to make you strawberry shortcake, and use it to cover my tits.”
“What did I tell you about not tempting me,” Roselyn said.
“Is something going on there?”
“Yes, I’m no longer alone in this alley – two girls are having sex right here in front of me.”
“That’s San Francisco for you,” Alicia said with an almost audible roll of her eyes. “I guess you’re just lucky it’s not two dudes.”
“Is that-” Roselyn whispered, edging closer to the two girls. One of them looked familiar in profile. In fact, both of them did, the closer Roselyn got.
“You know them?” Alicia asked.
Roselyn did, and when she realized it, she almost laughed aloud. On her knees, sucking on sexy Alessandra Torresani’s surprisingly ample tit-flesh was none other than Grace Park.
“Oh, I know them,” Roselyn said with a chuckle. “Well, one them. She’s one of my partners now.”
“And she eats pussy?” Alicia asked, a questioning tone in her voice. “Should I be worried, Popi?”
“Never, my love,” Roselyn said, eyes locked on Grace’s head bobbing between Alessandra’s legs like crazy.
“Good,” Alicia said. “Then do me a favor.”
“Anything,” Roselyn said, turning her back to Grace’s conquest of the sexy waitress. If Alicia wanted her to leave, she would, no questions asked. Roselyn might have played the dominatrix in their games, but they both knew her heart belonged to Alicia.
“Tell me what they’re doing to each other, Popi,” Alicia said, surprising Roselyn. “Describe to me what your sexy little friend is doing to her little waitress.”
Roselyn stopped dead, and slowly turned back towards Grace and Alessandra. “Why, my dear Alicia, are you not wearing pants right now?” Roselyn asked, a touch of humor in her voice.
“Mmmm, no Popi – I took them off the minute you called, because I’m so hot and wet,” Alicia said. “I was hoping you would help me out with some sweet nothings in my ear.”
“If you want sweet nothings, I can go somewhere else, love,” Roselyn said. “I don’t need to tell you how my friend Grace is sliding her finger into Alessandra’s sopping wet pussy while she licks her clit.”
“Mmmm, forget the sweet nothings. This is so much better. Give me the play-by-plays, Popi. And if you have to touch yourself along the way…” Alicia’s voice trailed off into a moan, and Roselyn could see her lover’s face contorting with pleasure in her mind’s eye.
“Mmmm,” Roselyn moaned, feeling her crotch practically drip at Alicia’s tone. “Alright,” she said slowly. “Well, right now Grace is on her knees, sucking at Alessandra’s kitty like crazy. I think she might have a finger slid upside her pussy, too.”
“You mean like how I have one slid up mine?” Alicia asked playfully, though Roselyn knew she was telling the truth.
“Exactly like that.”
“Oooh, Popi, tell me more!”
Roselyn looked over at the two other girls, who were now trading places, Grace standing up, with Alessandra dropping to her knees. The feisty little waitress wasted no time getting at Grace’s snatch, penetrating her with three fingers – Roselyn suspected they only slid in so quickly because Grace was already dripping wet.
“The waitress, she’s now licking my friend’s pussy. From the way my friend’s face is lighting up, I can tell she’s doing a fantastic job.”
“MMmmm, Oh, Popi, I wish you were here to lick my pussy like that,” Alicia moaned through the phone.
“Me too, my love, me too,” Roselyn sighed. “Now the waitress is – oh my! She’s sticking a finger up my friend’s butt!”
“Oooh, that’s so dirty! Right there in the alley?”
“I’m watching it happen,” Roselyn said, feeling her juices starting to drip down the inside of her legs. Watching as Alessandra used two hands to pump her fingers in and out of both Grace’s pussy and ass, all while licking the hot Asian’s clit, was enough to drive even the straightest girl gay, and Roselyn was already there.
“Are you touching yourself, Popi?” Alicia asked.
“No,” Roselyn replied, her eyes locked on the two girls down the alley.
“Touch yourself. For me, Popi. Touch yourself, and make yourself feel good.”
“Oooh, Alicia,” Roselyn moaned, her hand sinking past the waistband of her skirt and rubbing her monds through her silky panties.
“No no, watch them,” Alicia demanded. “Tell me what they’re doing, and what you’re doing to yourself.” Alicia’s voice was husky and demanding, and Roselyn could just imagine her beloved’s fingers working over her pussy at a fevered pace.
Grace was grabbing her own breasts through her shirt, writhing against the wall as Alessandra pumped both of Grace’s holes like a machine. The computer hacker clearly approved, her mouth in an open O shape, her eyes squeezed shut, her fingers gripping at the fabric of her top like she was going to rip it open to get at her own breasts. As Roselyn described the scene to Alicia, she could hear her beloved on the other end, her breath growing increasingly ragged and desperate. Roselyn could see Alicia’s fingers flying over her clit, driving the mocha-skined beauty to higher and higher states of arousal.
That thought, along with the images of Alessandra and Grace before her were enough to drive Roselyn to stroke her own clit faster and faster, too. Her pulse was racing, and a part a part of her – the part that lusted after all sexy women – wanted nothing more than to rip off her clothes, race over to the two girls, and get between them, demanding they play with her body until she came again and again. But the part of her the loved and cherished Alicia still held control over Roselyn’s feet, and she didn’t move, save to spread her legs a bit wider, giving herself more access to her own dripping wet slit.
Grace was moaning loudly now, loud enough that Roselyn was beginning to wonder if people inside the bar could hear her. Alessandra didn’t seem to worry, so intent was she on sucking on Grace’s clit while finger banging both of the computer hacker’s holes like mad.
“I can hear your friend, Popi,” Alicia moaned over the phone. “I can hear her crying out in passion, but I can’t hear YOU.”
“I don’t want to be heard,” Roselyn said, her voice cracking with desire.
“Moan for me, Popi. Let me hear how hot you are.”
“Gaaahhhh,” Roselyn groaned, the heat between her legs literally dripping out over her fingers. She was fairly certain Grace’s cries of passion would drown her out, but she still felt like she could be discovered at any moment.
And somehow, that made it a little more exciting.
“I wish you were here, Alicia,” Roselyn whispered into her phone. “I wish it was your fingers on me.”
“They are, Popi,” Alicia said. “Your fingers are mine. And they’re going to make you cum!”
“OH! OHHH! OHHHHH!! OOOOOHHHHHHHHH!” Roselyn gasped aloud as orgasm over took her, rattling around in her brain back and forth like a pinball. Her long, luscious legs almost gave out, and she had to lean back against the wall of the alley to keep from collapsing to the ground.
She might have worried that her cries of passion had been too loud, but down the alleyway, Grace and Alessandra were both cumming as well, their half-naked bodies laying about on the ground in a mess of tangled limbs and hair that was somehow both enticing and alarming at the same time.
Roselyn didn’t really care. She’d gotten off, which helped, but she was still more homesick than anything. The sooner this job was over, the better.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ashley Benson liked to boast that she could have a man any time she wanted. This was true, mainly because she was always willing to pay for them.
Like the naked fellow who was on his knees before her, her dress around her legs and his face between them, licking her blonde snatch out and roaming his hands up and down her relatively clothed body (Ashley liked to have the man undressed first, and the customer was always right). His tongue probed and flicked inside her box, tasting her and spurring her on to joy the way only a professional could; Ashley dug her hands into his shoulders and shook against the wall, feeling the day melt away down her body and out of her pussy into this beautiful man’s mouth. She begged him to keep going and make her come right there…
Her latest houseguest soon had her pinned to the bed in her house. By now Ashley too was nude, her legs up in the air and kicking as she bucked underneath him, knowing he liked watching her breasts jiggling (she figured the guy deserved a little tip for his trouble). Under normal circumstances, nine inches of cock thrusting in and out of her would have been enough to get her mind off the day – but these weren’t normal circumstances; she was thinking about a girl. A tiny blonde girl. A tiny blonde girl who she’d have to smile cordially next to tomorrow evening.
She had tried not to think about her, but as anyone who saw “Inception” (and anyone who hadn’t) could have told her the more you try not to think about something, the harder it is not to. So while Ashley saw a tall, handsome, muscular Brazilian man rhythmically pumping her with her actual eyes, in her mind’s eye she saw Hayden Motherfucking Panettiere stealing her limelight…
Groaning at how great he felt, Ashley started to yell as she was pounded into the mattress; she was good enough at sex to not let on that she was going through the motions, and the boy would be getting his (financial) tip for sure, but she was looking forward to doing to Hayden Panettiere what the boy was doing to her. It might not be that first day, but it would happen. And then Hayden would be the one who wouldn’t love it…
* * * * * * * * * *
“I love it…” Hayden groaned.
“Two minds with but a single thought,” Troian replied, her gel-covered hands lathering Hayden’s breasts as the blonde returned the favour, the warm shower water cascading over both of them. They didn’t do this every day – just on special occasions, like on birthdays. Or when they really wanted to.
“This really helps,” Hayden added, massaging Troian’s rack and watching her nipples standing out before stretching up to give the freshly-cleaned breasts a kiss. Man, her jugs were *beautiful*… “I’m still a little freaked out about tonight.”
“Think about the crew naked,” Troian suggested, rubbing the soap substitute into Hayden’s sides.
“You HAVE seen the crew, right?”
“Okay, think about *me* naked…”
“What, you want me to come live on air?” Hayden had managed to finish rubbing down Troian’s front first because while she was smaller, Troian was going slower as if she wanted to take her time moving over the blonde. Gazing down to look at the way the water was dripping down from the brunette’s squeeze box, Hayden’s eyes became dreamy.
“I’ve got to do the other side,” she reminded the brunette, who found herself wishing she hadn’t already done Hayden’s ass already. Turning over, Troian spread her cheeks to make it easier for the girl; Hayden was soon squeezing the shower gel all around, slathering it up and working it inside her girlfriend’s ass. Hayden sent it in deep, probing her lubed fingers in as far as she could, a smile spreading wider on her face.
Troian didn’t need to be asked twice; she bent herself forward, opening her back entrance wider for her beloved. Hayden scanned the stall as she fondled Troian’s round, tight tush, looking for something to use… problem: everything was too big, or in the case of the toothbrushes too small (she cursed the fact that they didn’t have any electric ones – the handles would have been just right). There was only one thing for it; she covered her left hand with the gel, and squeezed it into as small a fist as she could. Resting her right hand on Troian’s back, she put the fist against the brunette’s rear entrance and slowly twisted. Very slowly.
Just as slowly as Troian’s mouth started to open as she felt Hayden’s hand gradually, carefully working into her anus. Suddenly she was glad that it was still about 4 in the morning; this was going to be a while. Troian gasped and groaned as the blonde’s hand slid slowly into her, filling her back door and going almost imperceptibly from side to side; this was the first time she had had this happen to her (she’d seen it, but she had always figured it would be some kind of really butch woman to try it on her, not a bubbly little blonde flirt like Hayden…).
With the hand inside her up to the wrist, Hayden delicately moved it back and forth, slowly and lovingly trying it get as far as up Troian as she could; truth be told, both women were impressed Miss Panettiere had made it this far up. Hayden moved her other hand along Troian’s back and down her side, over her stomach and between her legs, through the soft silk of her box. Moaning with satisfaction, Hayden began to fondle Troian’s pussy as she continued coring her.
Troian pressed harder against the tiles as if she was being searched by the kindest, horniest cop on the planet, one whose fingers were rolling her surprisingly fat lovebutton and slipping between her pussy lips, almost doing as good a job of frigging her as she herself did. Hayden’s other hand had developed a definite rhythm now that her asshole had stretched enough to accomodate it – that was another good thing about being with someone so small; their hands were almost the size of an actual dildo – and she was managing to thrust deeper up her, going back and forth like a piston. A slow piston, but a gradually speeding up piston. Breathing in time to Hayden’s pumping, Troian bit her lip; it did hurt a little, but it was the best kind of hurt – one she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to stop.
Hayden’s eyes were closed as she kept on the handwork, sensing nothing but the water still flowing over their bodies, the feel of Troian’s snug asshole around her clenched forearm, the hot, dripping cunt reacting to her fingers, and the increasing cries of Troian as she began to give in to Hayden – who herself was starting to cream from Miss Bellisario’s holes. The two started to moan almost in unison as the room filled with the scent of musk from Troian and yells of passion; Troian’s body trembled with delight as she thrust back against Hayden.
A quaking and sighing Troian edged a hand to the shower tap, and as Hayden delicately began the long extraction route she turned the water off.
* * * * * * * * * *
If there was one stereotype that Ashley Benson demolished, it was the one about women taking ages to get ready; she was pulling on her shoes with plenty of time to spare when the cellphone rang. Ashley snatched the phone up; she would have ignored it, but she was the kind of person to have ringtones assigned to each caller. And this was one ringtone she never ignored.
“Hello?” she said, answering it before the first ring ended.
“Good morning, Ashley. I shall need your services today,” said Rhona Mitra.
“If this goes wrong, I assure you I will.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Hayden usually loved seeing Troian Bellisario lying on their bed naked, and she always hated leaving her that way. Especially now.
“Relax, Hayden, you’ll be fine…” Troian winced a little.
“I am SO sorry about this… I just got carried away!” Hayden’s eyes instinctively drifted to Troian’s rump, the reason her girlfriend was lying on the bed instead of dressed for work.
“Sorry? You should be *proud*, girl!” the brunette said in between sighs. “I always wanted someone to fuck me so hard I can’t walk… ‘sides, if I’m going to have a pain in my ass I’d rather it was from your pumping than that Ashley Benson…”
“Well, is it your fault you have such a fantastic ass?”
“Praise from Caesar,” Troian smiled. “I should be able to get up around… I dunno, noon?”
“I’ll be thinking of you at 6.” Hayden kissed Troian’s forehead. “You stay good, ‘kay?”
“You are going to OWN the news tonight,” the brunette told her blonde lover as she left.
Stepping outside, Hayden allowed herself a half-smile. “So hard she can’t walk?… I can live with that.”
There was a definite swagger in her walk to the car.
* * * * * * * * * *
Ashley Benson had arrived at around the same time as Hayden, and waved at her colleague. “We are gonna set this town on FIRE at 6!”
“I’d wish you luck, but you probably won’t need it,” Hayden said as they headed inside.
“Good luck anyway,” Ashley replied, and bit her tongue to keep from adding “You will.”
* * * * * * * * * *
The sun wasn’t quite up on Tuesday morning when JoAnna Garcia awoke to something hard pressing against the side of her leg. She knew what it was, knew what it meant, and wanted to ignore it, just roll over, and wait for her alarm clock to go off at a more reasonable time. But JoAnna was one of those people who, once awake, had a hard time falling back asleep quickly, especially if she knew she had to get up anyway before too much longer. Unable to resist, JoAnna peeked over at the red lights of her alarm clock and groaned slightly under her breath. 5:27 am. Her alarm would ring at 6.
With a light sigh, JoAnna rolled away from the clock, towards the hard thing jabbing her in the thigh. Sure enough, Jason, her Fiancé, was dead asleep next to her, laying on his side as he always did. And, as they always did, the thin, silk boxers he wore to bed – a gift from JoAnna last Christmas – had failed again to keep him inside, and his cock had escaped during the night. JoAnna didn’t know what it was Jason dreamed about that gave him such impressive morning wood, but she knew there were only two ways to deal with it.
Either Jason would have to jack off when he woke up, or JoAnna would have to get him off. Most mornings, JoAnna let him handle himself – literally – while she got in her shower and started getting ready for work. But today she was up early, and their schedules hadn’t let the two of them do much more than kiss all weekend. JoAnna had some needs of her own that hadn’t been met lately.
“Why waste a perfectly good erection?” JoAnna thought to herself, reaching down and yanking her ratty old “Enter Around Back” panties off, feeling a bit of relief as slightly cooler air brushed against her snatch. Yes, JoAnna had needs of her own, and she was going to get them met right now.
She reached over and started to stroke Jason’s cock, feeling it’s firmness between her fingers, the hot sting of his flesh against her palm as she slowly worked back and forth. He was still asleep, but moaned pleasurably, his hips shifting forward towards JoAnna. She kept her pace deliberately slow – she didn’t want him going off before she’d had her chance to use his morning wood to meet her own desires.
“Mmmm…” Jason moaned, still asleep – though no doubt moving closer and closer to waking up with each stroke. JoAnna kinda loved watching him slowly come awake as she slowly, gently pleasured his cock with just her hand and the warmth of the bed they shared.
Still, a woman could only wait so long. “Baby?” she said quietly, trying not to wake him up too harshly. “Baby, you awake?”
“Mmmmm… no,” he said, thrusting his hips into her hand. “I’m dreamin’.”
“Smoking hot redhead bank teller and all the dirty things she wants to do to me,” Jason replied, a huge smile breaking over his face.
“Yeah, well, if you don’t wake up right now,” JoAnna said, releasing his cock and gently shoving him onto his back, “That hot redhead bank teller isn’t going to do a damn thing to you.”
“In that case, I’m wide awake,” Jason said, opening his eyes with that same mischievous smile on his face he’d had since they started talking.
“Remind me to never let you play poker,” JoAnna said. “You can’t bluff to save your life.”
“Who cares about poker?” Jason said as JoAnna straddled his hips, resting her steaming hot box resting just above his eager cock. “I just want to Poke Her.”
“Okay, no more puns before you ruin the mood,” JoAnna said, rolling her eyes before impaling herself upon his shaft. They both gasped in mutual delight as the sensations of her slit enveloping his cock hit them both.
Jason grunted as JoAnna moaned, finally feeling some of the relief she sought. Slowly, carefully, she began riding him, sliding up and down upon his shaft, his hands resting lazily on her hips, letting her do all the work. She didn’t mind at all, and as pleasure finally began to work it’s way through her body, burning away the last of her morning sleepiness, she ran her hands up over her tits, thrilling a bit at the sensation.
“Mmmm,” she moaned. Yes, JoAnna liked morning sex. So much better than coffee or some energy drink. No, a good stiff cock and a solid orgasm beat any other way to wake up.
She sped up her pace, bouncing upon him faster and faster, clearly waking him up, too. He now held on to her hips tightly, and thrust up to meet her, that cocky grin on his face he couldn’t help but get when he was getting laid.
She loved that grin – it usually meant she was getting laid, too.
JoAnna began to really work at it, matching Jason for every thrust. “Grab my boobs, Babe!” she called out. He responded at once, reaching up to grab her chest, one in each hand, gripping them for dear life, letting JoAnna buck like wild. It did the trick, as the redhead began to really feel her body reacting. She knew she wouldn’t last much longer, and neither would he.
Suddenly, unbidden, a new image appeared in JoAnna’s head. Shay Mitchell, clad in a simple spaghetti-strap sundress, her ample cleavage spilling out, her long legs on fully display, and a come-hither look upon her face. In JoAnna’s mind, Shay leaned forward and kissed JoAnna, and started to reach for JoAnna’s naked breast-
Orgasm shook through the redhead’s body, shattering the image and replacing it with a swirl of colors and heat, ecstasy radiating out from between her legs until it engulfed her entire body. JoAnna moaned aloud, thrilling at the sensation of Jason pounding away inside her through every convulsion of her climax.
She lost track of things after that. She knew she’d collapsed on the bed, and that Jason, still looking for release, had simply rolled over and kept thrusting into her – he didn’t last long, and soon enough he was blasting his hot load inside her, before any post-orgasm sensitivity could rouse JoAnna from her stupor. He landed on the bed next to her, muttering something about the best way to wake up, and soon rolled off the bed to hit the shower and get his day going.
It wasn’t until much later when JoAnna herself had showered, that she realized she might have slipped up.
“By the way, babe, I know you’re not so big on swearing, but you can say shit during sex,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek as he passed her in the bathroom. “You don’t need to scream out nonsense like ‘Shaaaaaaayyyy’ or whatever it was you were crying when you came.”
* * * * * * * * * *
The morning of the heist came far too quickly for Roselyn Sanchez. A couple of lonely nights, with only the phone and her pocket vibrator to remind her of Alicia had the lovely Latina quite homesick, and the fact that today was likely to be a very long day.
Or, if things went wrong, possibly Roselyn’s last.
Most of the crew was already there when Roselyn entered, with only Blake Lively and Jaime Pressly missing. Roselyn reverently hoped they weren’t together. Jaime had been known to force herself on straight women on more than one occasion in just the limited time Roselyn had known her. And Blake was hot enough that Roselyn wasn’t sure she could keep her hands off her, and she had a loving companion and baby at home. Jaime didn’t have any of those connections, and ever fewer scruples.
“Morning, boss,” Megan Fox said, stretching her arms above her head so that her short t-shirt exposed her taut stomach. “You ready for all the fun?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Roselyn muttered. “Where are the others?”
“Shay’s already hard at work at the bank, and the two blondes are missing,” Emma Roberts said, loading a few tools into her backpack. The teenager was already dressed in all-black clothing that seemed to cling to her budding body in most impressive ways. Roselyn saw two more similar outfits hanging on the wall – no doubt for her and Jaime, should the rough blonde ever show up.
“We’re supposed to hear from Rhona before we go,” Grace Park said, humming some nameless tune to herself as she strutted over to her computer set-up.
“I assume she’s coming here,” Roselyn said.
“Nope – she’s going to contact us through SkyLite.”
“Sky light?” Roselyn asked, actually glancing up at the solid roof of the hideout, as if expecting a large window to be up there.
“Yeah, SkyLite,” Grace said. “Instant video conferencing. All the rage, and totally scramble-capable. Businesses all over the world are jumping onboard.”
“More computer stuff,” Emma explained when Roselyn shot the hot Asian girl a confused look.
“Hey bitches, what’s up?” Jaime Pressly spoke up, coming in the door behind Roselyn. She wore a white tank-top that hugged her tits a little too tightly and proved she wasn’t wearing any kind of bra what-so-ever.
“That’s one blonde,” Megan said. “Where’s Legs McBlondie?”
“Legs McBlondie?” Roselyn asked.
“Blake,” Megan said.
“That name fits,” Grace said, packing a laptop into a case. “Is the van downstairs?”
“Yeah, I’ve got it backed in,” Megan said. “You need help lugging everything down?”
“Nah, I’m good. Most of the work will relay from here, but I’ve got a laptop and two external drives – might take a few minutes to wire up a power supply. Do you know if the van’s got USB plugs in it?”
“No clue,” Megan replied.
“What about a cigarette lighter?”
“Yeah, I think it’s got one of those. Maybe even two.”
“Am I the last one here?” Blake Lively asked, walking into the hideout. Clad in sweatpants and a hoodie, with her hair in a ponytail, she looked far less glamorous than she usually did.
“You’re supposed to distract the guards in THAT getup?” Megan Fox asked.
“Nope,” Blake said, lifting up a garment bag. “Got my outfit for that in here.”
Roselyn was about to tell her to hurry up and change when suddenly Grace’s main computer screen flickered to life, and Rhona Mitra’s face appeared, scowling slightly at the six girls standing around in the room.
“You’re all here?” Rhona said, her voice coming in with a slight tinny quality through the speakers of the computer, but not cutting any of the venom in her voice.
“We’re all here,” Roselyn said, trying to show a little backbone to the woman who held all their fates in her hands.
“Good. I’m afraid I can’t be there to see you off, but I’ll meet you back her AFTER the heist. Do NOT leave the hideout until I show up. Is that understood?”
“Or what?” Jaime asked.
“Or I have you all hunted down and killed.” Rhona glared at Jaime directly. “You don’t doubt I can do that, do you, Jaime?”
“No, I don’t,” Jaime said, backing down.
“Good.” Rhona’s eyes looked to Blake next. “Blake, I assume you have something more appropriate to wear than THAT.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Blake said, holding up her garment bag.
“Excellent. Grace, do you have Blake’s microphone?”
“Right here,” Grace said, reaching across her desk to grab a small case, no bigger than a small MP3 player.
“Excellent. Blake, strip down so Grace can put it on.”
“W-what?” Blake stammered, surprised.
“Get undressed,” Rhona said, steel in her voice. “I want to watch as your hidden microphone is applied. NOW.”
“It’s pretty small,” Grace said with a hint of consolation in her voice. “It won’t take that long.”
“Can’t we just hook it into my shirt?” Blake asked, reluctantly lifting her sweatshirt up over her head and dropping it to the floor. Roselyn felt her nipples go hard at the sight of the very tiny, simple cotton bra holding Blake’s tits in place, the blonde’s own nipples threatening to stretch right through the fabric. From the way the room had gone silent, Roselyn suspected the other girls were feeling similar stirrings in their loins over seeing more of Blake’s bare skin.
Blake stood their, arms akimbo, letting everyone get a good look, while shooting daggers with her eyes towards the computer screen showing Rhona.
“Uh, pants, too,” Grace said, actually blushing a bit as she spoke. “The battery pack will have to be hidden in your panties.”
Blake shot Grace a concerned look. “I’m wearing a thong.”
“Then it’ll have to be hidden in the FRONT of your panties,” Grace said with an apologetic shrug. “I’m sorry, it’s the only place.”
“Can’t just throw it in my damn purse, could you?” Blake said, shucking her sweatpants and returning to her defiant pose. Roselyn didn’t have a great shot of Blake’s ass from where she was standing, but from the way Megan and Emma’s eyes went wide, it was clear they both approved of the view from behind Miss Lively.
Grace dropped down to her knees in front of Blake – Roselyn was surprised to feel a spike of jealousy shoot through her over that – and pulled the front panel of Blake’s panties down far enough to slip the small battery pack in – and to let Roselyn confirm that Blake had a small tuft of blonde hair over her crotch. Grace put the battery in and let the panties settle a little bit, readjusting them once or twice, her fingers actually dipping under the fabric more than once.
“Watch it!” Blake said at one point, clearly feeling Grace’s fingers in places Blake didn’t want them.
“Sorry – if you wore something else, something with a little back, I could attach the battery there,” Grace said. “I could lend you some cheekies, if you’re interested.”
“The thong will do, Grace,” Rhona’s stern voice interrupted. “Get on with it.”
“Right,” Grace said. The battery pack had a small, thin wire running out of it, which Grace now looped through the waistband of Blake’s panties several times, pushing Blake to turn around as she did so. Now Roselyn had a much better look at Blake’s ass, and the team leader suddenly wasn’t sure if she had more juices in her mouth or her pussy.
Grace seemed to be in a similar situation, swallowing visibly as she pulled out the string at the back of the thong and looped the wire around it one last time, her hand lingering for a long moment on one of Blake’s cheeks.
“The microphone, Grace,” Rhona reminded her, a smug smile crossing her digitized face. It seemed pretty clear to Roselyn that Rhona was enjoying the little show she was making Grace and Blake put on. Roselyn hated Rhona a bit more for that – and hated herself a little for enjoying the show just as much.
Grace ran the wire up the small of Blake’s back until she reached the back of Blake’s bra, stopping only one to apply a single piece of clear tape to hold it close to her skin.
“Front closure?” Grace asked as she reached the back of Blake’s bra.
“Yeah. That a problem?”
“I hope not,” Grace said, looping the wire around the back once. “I’ve gotta tuck this in under the bra, and run it around front,” the tech expert explained before pulling the bra out just enough to slip the wire underneath. “This would be easier with a large bra.”
“A large bra wouldn’t work with my outfit,” Blake said, glaring a bit at Grace as the Asian girl reached Blake’s side. Forcing the blonde to lift her arm, Grace continued to tuck the wire in under the small straps until she reached the right cup, where she paused for a moment.
“Is there enough wire?” Rhona asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Grace said, still hesitating a bit.
“Then get on with it. We don’t have all day.”
“Sorry,” Grace whispered to Blake as she pulled the cup away from Blake’s breast. Sure enough, Blake’s boob popped out, and every eye was on her succulent nipple until Grace replaced the cup.
“Damn Legs McBlondie,” Jaime said from where she stood watching. “You SURE you don’t like girls?”
Blake shot Jaime a nasty look, but Grace stepped between them before she could say anything, and began attaching the microphone to the clasp of the bra. Grace fiddled with it for a solid minute, earning more than a few nasty glares from Blake as she bumped, groped, and pulled on Blake’s breasts as she tried to affix the microphone in place.
“This would be easier if the clasp wasn’t in the front-” Grace started to say when suddenly the clasp gave way and Blake’s bra swung open, exposing both breasts to the room.
Jaime whistled. Grace just look flustered. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“Sure you are,” Blake snarled, making it clear she didn’t for one minute think Grace had done that accidentally. She quickly reattached her bra. “Attach it right NEXT to the damn clasp and let’s get moving!”
It took all of three seconds for Grace to get the tiny microphone in place this time – though not without was Roselyn was certain was one last deliberate groping of Blake’s left breast. “There, attached.”
“Good,” Blake said, moving to grab her clothes and get dressed again.
“Not so fast, Blake,” Rhona said. “I want someone ELSE to inspect Grace’s work.”
“I’ll do it!” Roselyn, Jaime, and Megan all said at the same time.
“Emma,” Rhona said. “You’re good at spotting small details. Will Grace’s work pass inspection?”
The teenager raised an eyebrow at her new instructions, but moved without saying anything to stand in front of Blake. They made quite the contrast, Emma’s small frame all geared up to rob a bank, Blake’s tall and lanky figure all but naked. Still, Emma walked around Blake twice, never putting so much as a finger on the blonde’s skin, but getting as close as she could with her face in both Blake’s cleavage and her crotch.
“Well?” Rhona asked when Emma stood up.
“The wire at her back is nearly impossible to hide well, but the microphone actually looks like it might be part of the clasp of her bra. The battery pack makes her crotch a tad square, but if she doesn’t wear skin-tight pants, that shouldn’t be an issue.” Emma paused next to Blake and turned to whisper in her ear.
“You look better now than you did that day we fucked,” she said, a little too loudly to be really trying to keep what she said secret.
Blake’s face went red, and she turned to slap Emma, but Megan caught her hand before she could and Roselyn stepped between them as Emma walked away, smiling.
“Good enough, then,” Rhona said. “Blake, Jaime and Roselyn, get dressed. Megan, you and Emma help Grace load her stuff in the van. You need to hit the bank just after 11am. Try to be out before 11:30.”
“What happens at 11:30?” Blake asked, still glaring at Emma.
“If we’re still in that bank a half hour after we start the robbery, the cops will be flooding outside, and even with hostages, we’ll be lucky to get away,” Roselyn said.
“I thought hostages were part of the plan,” Grace said. “Isn’t that how you’re getting Shay out?”
“It is, and they’ll also help us carry the cash out,” Roselyn said. “But they work better with fewer cops around. If the cops get the entire bank surrounded and the media shows up, we’re fucked.”
“This seems like less and less of a good idea every time we go over it,” Megan muttered.
“It’s too late to back out now, girls,” Rhona said. “I’ll see you all after the heist.” With that, the computer screen went black, leaving the six robbers to glance at each other.
“All right, girls,” Jaime said. “Let’s go rob a fucking bank!”
* * * * * * * * * *
Lucy Hale pulled her car into the bank parking lot and rushed inside before even thinking that she hadn’t locked her door. Lucy looked back before deciding to just leave it, but as she turned toward the long line staring back at her she suddenly wished she hadn’t decided to leave it be.
Lucy took a spot in line and waited. Five minutes has passed and the line had barely moved, and for Lucy those five minutes seemed like an eternity. Lucy looked at the clock anxiously and bounced slightly on the balls of her feet. She had to get back to the school before her lunch break was over.
“What is taking so long?” Lucy seethed to herself as she looked toward the front of the line. She laid eyes on the teller who appeared to be openly flirting with the man at the window. The man had to be twice her age, he had on what Lucy could only describe as a “dad” outfit.
As the man left the teller’s window with a big smile on his face Lucy again looked at the clock and only two more minutes had passed. The line finally sped up a bit more as another teller opened her window right next to the stunning brunette.
As Lucy finally made it to the teller’s window she looked up at the beautiful redhead and smiled.
“Hey JoAnna, whose the new girl?” Lucy asked. JoAnna blushed slightly as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Um, that’s Shay, college intern from L.A. What can I do for you Luce?” JoAnna asked as she typed up Lucy’s info on her computer.
“Just making the withdrawl for my vacation.” Lucy said handing JoAnna her info.
“Hey yeah, I can’t believe you are doing that. Cancun for Spring Break?” JoAnna said.
“You only live once.” Lucy said as she told JoAnna the amount of money she was looking to take out, she looked over at Shay. Lucy shook her head because she could have sworn she saw Shay winking at her.
* * * * * * * * * *
Frank Sheene hated having to do errands, and he especially hated having to do errands that involved standing in line. And it didn’t help that the customer in front of him, and all the others who’d gone, were all functionally retarded… how long did it take to put money in for goodness’ sake?!
Still, at least his mother wasn’t around to tell him to stop fidgeting. Plus the teller he would eventually be dealing with was GORGEOUS – a sloe-eyed coffee-coloured honey. And looking around at some of the other customers, he could tell there were others in the same boat; sighing at numbnuts in the queue who didn’t understand the concept of “identification required,” rolling their eyes when people made hefty deposits with one-dollar bills, looking at the clock, wondering when the fuck he was going to be able to get the cash in and get out of here.
Frank’s eyes skimmed past the door as he looked around the bank floor in boredom. And they would have just kept skimming had the door not opened, letting in sunlight and a pair of long, long legs, going up and up and covered from just above the knee by some lovely silky red material that did an excellent job of clinging to the thighs. Above that was a white top, which was slit open in the front and giving some inches of awesome cleavage an airing. The owner of the legs and the chest had a lovely, slightly anxious face with an inviting little mole on it, framed with stunning blonde hair.
Frank suddenly felt A LOT less bored. And so did all the males in the bank who weren’t gay, the ones who weren’t with their wives, the ones who *were* with their wives…
…and the guards.
Whatever else was said about Mike and John, they were always alert. Nothing got by them. Especially nothing of a hot female variety (Mike was a happily married man, John on the rebound, but both had enjoyed some one-handed sex with the new teller as an inspiration). So they both noted the new customer as they did with all the new arrivals.
“Nice,” Mike said just loud enough for John to hear, as the blonde looked in her expensive-looking handbag and searched a little, a worried expression on her face.
“Might be a little high maintenance,” John pointed out.
“You gotta make the effort – eyes on the prize…”
Both guards soon had their eyes on the prize all right, when the leggy blonde hesitantly approached them; it was almost as if she was apologizing. Their standard “No trouble at all” response wouldn’t be a lie in this case.
“Welcome to the San Francisco Union Bank,” Mike said, willing himself to not look at the young woman’s breasts.
“Is there anything we can do for you, miss?” John asked, flitting back and forth between her eyes and her legs. “We’re here to help.”
“Well… yes,” the blonde replied with pleading eyes. “I came to make a withdrawal for a friend of mine, but just when I got in I found I’d forgotten to bring his ID, and I need to call him and I can’t do it from my cellphone because I need to charge it so it’s at home, so…”
“You can use mine,” both guards said together a little TOO eagerly.
“Oh, thank you!” she said, shaking each man by the hand in turn and accepting Mike’s phone. “I don’t know what I’d have done if I hadn’t gotten the money out – he would’ve killed me…”
“I can’t imagine any man staying mad at you for long, miss,” Mike chuckled.
“This’ll only take a moment,” she smiled. “Thank you again.” And she walked away, talking into the phone as both guards (and most of the men in the bank) studied the motion of her perfect ass.
After a few moments they returned to studying her front as she came back, handed Mike the phone – and kissed both him and John.
“You’re welcome,” the guards both said, an instant before both collapsed.
“… and Bingo was his name,” Blake Lively said softly (but loudly enough for it to go from the earpiece linked to the box hooked onto her back under the dress to the van outside) through her drug-dosed lips.
It was showtime.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Good girl,” Grace Park said, watching as the alluring image of Blake Lively came into view on the security cameras – and immediately turned towards the guards, her face never quite getting on camera. “They’ll never ID her on just that little bit of chin and her cleavage.”
“I don’t know, her cleavage seems pretty memorable to me,” Jaime Pressly joked as she checked the load on her gun.
“Tell me about it,” Emma Roberts muttered quietly.
Grace didn’t really pay attention to the other girls, her fingers flying over her keyboard as she started to hack into the Bank’s camera systems. It wasn’t THAT hard, but the timing was important. She needed to get those cameras off before Blake was spotted and before anyone else entered. At the same time, however, she had to make sure the guards weren’t looking directly at their monitors, because there’d be a VERY visible distortion when Grace hacked in. Their eyes had to be elsewhere – like on Blake’s fantastic ass.
“She’s talking to guards,” Roselyn Sanchez said from the front passenger seat of the van. “That Chica is making even the gay boys think about bedding her.”
“Just let me know when she gets a phone,” Grace said. She was just about there – only two more commands to enter-
“She’s got one,” Roselyn reported. “Holding it up to her ear now.”
“Fuck, that was fast,” Grace said. She slammed in the last line of code needed, and her computer came alive, slicing in a static shot on all the cameras of whatever they were filming that second. If either of the guards looked at the cameras before Blake could take them out, the whole gig could be up before it even started. “Cameras fixed,” Grace reported.
“Move it, Foxy,” Jaime said, smacking Megan on the back of the head. “Get us in gear!”
“Not until we hear from Blake,” Roselyn snapped.
“It’s going to take 30 seconds to get the van up to the front door-!” Jaime started to argue, but Grace cut them off.
“Shut up!” she shouted, pulling her earbud closer to her ear, as if that would help.
“… and Bingo was his name,” Blake’s voice came in loud and clear.
“MOVE!” Roselyn and Jaime cried at once – everyone had an earpiece. Megan squealed the tires of the van as she floored it, getting the lumber black beast across the parking lot well under 30 seconds. The breaks squealed in protest as she brought them to a stop in front of the bank, and Roselyn, Jaime, and Emma all jumped out, already pulling their masks down over their faces.
“… and Bingo was his name?” Grace asked as Megan pulled the van away from the bank just as quickly as she’d pulled it up. “Who the hell thought THAT was a good code phrase?”
“Blake wasn’t hired for her mind, okay? Just run the computers, Nerd Girl,” Megan said, parking the van as innocently as possible across the street from the bank itself.
* * * * * * * * * *
Lucy, whose queue was closest to the guards, was about to be served by JoAnna when the guards collapsed; other than Blake, she was just about the closest. The small brunette looked at the redheaded teller in shock and raced over to the men, concerned and puzzled at the actions of the tall blonde who’d been talking to them…
“What is WRONG with — ” she started, and got no further. Blake had turned away from the men, and was sporting a big smile. And a smaller Beretta, aimed right at Lucy.
“Nothing wrong here, miss,” she said politely to the wide-eyed young teacher. “Get back in the line.”
Lucy stared at the stunner and the gun, her frozen stance broken an instant later by a gunshot from the entrance; she, the customers and the tellers whirled around. Behind her desk, JoAnna was shocked; behind hers, Shay just LOOKED shocked.
“Didja not hear Legs McBlondie there?” called the jumpsuit-clad blonde who’d just fired into the ceiling, flanked by a similarly-clad Latina woman and a teenage girl dressed likewise, carrying two large bags. “She said there’s nothing wrong here!”
“We’re just your robbers for the morning,” Blake said, smiling at them as she relieved the sleeping guards of their guns and joined her comrades, handing one each to Roselyn and Jaime.
“Whoo! You know me so well!” the blonde cackled with a wink, and made to slap Blake’s ass in delight – before Miss Lively shot her a Rhona-worthy “Don’t even think it” look. Jaime settled for tucking the other gun in her waistband.
JoAnna eyed the other tellers nervously; they had all been trained not to try to be a hero in these kinds of situations, just to trigger a silent alarm they all had. But she was genuinely too afraid to even try and tap it. And the new girl was trembling… “Just keep calm, Shay,” she told her. “Play ball and things’ll be okay.”
“All of you start eating tile like the guys over there!” Jaime shouted. Frank, who’d also noticed how scared Shay looked, and the other customers immediately lay down, most of them with their heads pressed against the floor and doing their best possum impression. But Frank was eyeing each robber – this was like something out of a movie… being in a bank robbed by a bunch of full-on gun-toting hotties (they were all wearing masks, but their bodies and the fact that the foxy blonde was one of them meant they all HAD to have something special under their hoods). There was something about a woman with a gun that really got to him… but there was something about Blake with a gun that was itching at him in particular. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was something.
Frank sneaked another look at the beautiful new teller; what a sweet girl she’d been to the customers before him. The redhead was nice, but that new girl…
Behind the counter, JoAnna squeezed Shay’s hand reassuringly and nodded with a nervous half-smile. The teller nodded back, mentally screaming as she saw JoAnna’s right foot edge away from her slightly, press down on a panel, and edge back.
“Nothing to worry about,” the redhead whispered.
“Now I don’t think any of you really wants to be killed for money,” Roselyn said as Emma went up to the first teller, opened the lighter bag, held it up to the man with one hand and pointed her gun with the other. “So give generously.”
“Please?” Emma added with a smile, which became even more real when the banknotes started flowing in. The girl continued to make her withdrawals along each till, studiously avoiding glancing over to Shay. “And we take coins as well; toll charges are such a pisser these days.”
Roselyn had an eye on Jaime as much as on the customers; the guards were no problem because Blake’s kiss had been known to keep men out of action for hours (it had not been the first time she’d used that kind of “lipstick”), but Jaime… a very different kettle of fish. She looked like the people in the bank were one big shooting gallery, and even Rhona’s threats could only keep a loose cannon like her in control for so long. Roselyn wished that she shared Blake’s Drew Barrymore-type dislike of guns; even though the tall blonde was keeping her area covered under her barrel, it was wavering slightly more than the other two. At least her real weapon was in full force; Roselyn noted with amusement that more than a few of the men in the crowd were fixed on various parts of Blake’s lively anatomy.
“Thank you and good morning,” Emma cooed, taking JoAnna’s cash before turning her attention to Shay. “Fill ‘er up. You’ve all been so good so far, don’t ruin it.”
Shay, hoping her eyes didn’t betray how she felt on seeing Emma smiling up at her, rapidly emptied her till. Emma nodded, zipped up the bag and kept the gun on the teller.
“But you got what you wanted!” JoAnna protested, and shut up as Jaime directly targeted her.
“We got *some* of what we wanted.” Roselyn pointed out. “The bonanza’s down in the vault.”
“And YOU get to show me,” Emma added, aiming her gun directly between Shay’s eyes. “C’mon, we haven’t got all day.”
“She only just started here… I’ll go,” JoAnna pleaded, to the surprise of Shay and all the other members. The idea of someone else stepping in to save the “innocent” had never occurred to any of them.
“She made her choice, bitch, and if you don’t want us to go from robbery to murder SHUT YOUR ASS UP!” Jaime shouted, saying what Emma wasn’t entirely sure she could’ve.
Shay gave the shaken and now silent JoAnna a grateful look and walked out from behind the desk, Emma’s gun on her all the way. “Look after this for me,” the latter said, putting the full bag on the floor and shoving it over to Blake, who picked it up with her free hand, not taking her eyes off the cowering customers for a second. “And as for you, tall, dark and foxy – give me the guided tour. Try anything down there and…”
“OK,” Shay replied, swallowing. The teller and the armed robber walked towards the back, making their way down the stairs.
“Keep the rest of them occupied,” Roselyn told her comrades. “I’m just going to make sure we don’t have anyone hidden somewhere thinking about doing a John McClane.”
“Believe me, anyone who wants to be a hero is gonna die hard all right,” Jaime cackled. “Make that die EASY…”
* * * * * * * * * *
Hayden was sweating over the build up for the evening news; the staff had joked that all the presenters had to do was be able to read the prompters and get the makeup right. That wasn’t true; it was about 80%.
Still, as she munched on her M&Ms in the ladies’ room Hayden wished Troian was here; if she had been manning the cameras on the set, it would’ve helped her be as calm inside as she looked outside. It was also too bad she didn’t smoke; the building was a no smoking zone, but anything would have helped. She hadn’t been so nervous since that time she’d appeared on the cover of “San Francisco” as “The Golden State’s Sexiest Reporter.”
Hayden was back at her desk, glad that she was about to break for an early lunch, when her phone went off; relieved that it was her cellphone and not an inside line, she answered without glancing at the screen. “Hi there!”
“Hayden?” asked a nervous voice.
“Hey there! What can I do for you?”
“Something’s going on around the Union Bank…”
“Really? What kind of something?”
“The kind of something where people keep going in and no one comes out.”
Hayden put two and two together and came up with Breaking News. And Ashley couldn’t do it because she was out for another story as part of her “Million Dollar Memories” series about San Franciscans’ best days of their lives (“People eat that shit up,” Ashley had told her)… of course, it might be a hoax, but if it was at least it would get her out of the building.
“How long now?”
“Close to fifteen minutes… think it’s something?”
“It might be… can you give me your number?”
One written-down number and a warning to those in the know to watch out for a call from her down at the Bank later, Hayden had gotten a mobile unit and was on the way. This was another reason she missed Troian; Hayden had had experience doing her own camera work, but not much. Still, once she’d gotten to frame it and stood in the right place, and remembered to turn on the mike, she should be okay…
* * * * * * * * * *
“Something’s going on around the Union Bank…”
Sitting in her car, Ashley Benson dropped the act and laughed to herself in her own voice.
* * * * * * * * * *
Roselyn saw Emma and Shay head down to the vaults, dropping the hostage act as soon as they were out of sight of the others. Roselyn followed them around the corner, but she stopped at the single locked door that was the manager’s office.
“Grace, you’re sure the cameras are off?” she asked, eyeing the camera rather blatantly pointed at the office door.
“Absolutely,” Grace’s voice came back in Roselyn’s earpiece. “If you’re standing in front of it right now, all that’s being recorded is the same static image of the door that’s been playing half the morning already. You’re clear.”
“This better be worth it,” Roselyn muttered, trying the door handle. Locked, for sure, but that had never stopped Roselyn before. She could’ve just used her gun to shoot the lock, but the longer things went without gunshots, the better, so she pulled an automatic lock pick out of her pocket and crammed the thing into the doorknob. Auto lock picks basically destroyed locks in the process of vibrating the tumblers open, and there’d be no hiding the fact that SOMEONE had broken into the room when Roselyn was done. Rhona didn’t seem to care about that fact, so Roselyn didn’t either – besides, it was use the auto pick, or waste precious time trying to pick it the old-fashioned way.
It took less than a minute for Roselyn to get into the office, a surprisingly simplistic affair, with no personal touches. Roselyn guessed that with the bank manager only being in on specific days, decorating each office wasn’t a priority. Still, there was a desk with a computer, and that’s all that mattered. Roselyn unzipped the front of her jumpsuit and pulled out the thumb drive as she sat at the desk. It took but a movement of the mouse to get the screen to come alive with a password box. Roselyn quickly found a USB port on the side of the hard drive, plugged in the thumb drive, and sat back.
She hoped like hell this thing would work.
* * * * * * * * * *
Once they were out of sight and heading down the passage to the vault, Shay dropped the hostage act.
“Just thought of another reason I’m glad you’re along,” Emma laughed, increasing her pace but being careful not to shake up the bag too much. “You can get the goodies high up in the vault.”
It was true; Shay towered over the teenage safecracker (she was taller than Rhona as well, and in fact Blake – curse her soft, silky hide – was the only member of the gang who literally looked down on her). They were at the door of the vault; a standard thick door, with the two handles on the left side, about three feet apart. But Emma had everything she needed – and in the case of the autodial, something she hoped she wouldn’t need – with her listening device to get the combo, the autodialling device, and some other little gizmos (like some more bags, the better to put the actual money in).
As Emma studied the door, she felt something was wrong. She had the thrill of the job inside her, but there was something missing… something that she couldn’t go ahead without. It definitely wasn’t the tools, it wasn’t the company, and she had the time to break in thanks to the other gang members… what was it?
Suddenly Emma knew. “Hold on to this for a sec, would you?” she said casually, handing her bag to Shay. Before Shay could ask what was up, Emma quickly pulled her mask off and flung it aside, kicked off her shoes and unzipped her jumpsuit, stepping out of it the second it fell to the floor and kicking it away to join the other things she’d had on.
Standing before Shay stark naked, she grinned and beckoned for her bag. “Now we’re ready.”
“You… you’re…” the teller/mole stammered, gingerly handing Emma the bag.
“What’s the matter? You’ve seen this before. C’mon, we’ve got a vault to crack…”
Emma studied the lock on the right side, placed exactly in between the two handles; the digital panel said it was about twenty past twelve. “On a timer, you say… Shay, can you take your eyes off my legs please? Thank you.”
Wondering how the girl knew where she was looking, Shay put her eyes back on the door.
“The money goes in here at the end of the working day, right?”
“Well, half an hour after it. We have to let out the staff who aren’t going to be down here.”
“So the door would be on this timer until about 5:30…” Emma put her hand inside her bag.
“You try and get that thing off you’ll get the cops on us,” Shay pointed out.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” the girl smiled, bringing out a heavily-wrapped package, removing the sheets and revealing a small metal disc. “Getting this thing off is the last thing I want to do. Hope you’re using an old-fashioned watch…”
Emma placed the magnetised disc directly next to the lock so that they were touching, and both watched as the screen flickered, the numbers scrambling. “Guaranteed to fuck up any circuitry going – a bitch if you’re watching ‘Pretty Little Liars’ or something…”
“I’m a ’90210′ girl myself,” Shay admitted.
“…but just what the doctor ordered for making locks think it’s later than it is.” Emma plucked the disc away, with the screen now flashing 00:00. “Now, we just punch in the ‘right’ time with a little extra for leeway…”
She tapped in 17:36 and pressed “set.” Then crouching by the large tumbler in the centre of the door, Emma put on her earpiece and started to slowly turn the dials, listening for the clicks. Shay understood – Emma had screwed up the timer inside the vault, but she still needed the combo to open the door. Otherwise, it would have to be autodial. And *that* would set off bells.
Instinctively she took a hold of the upper handle; Emma would be going for the lower one once she’d gotten the six figures in the combo and then they’d both pull the handles downwards, as Emma had specified. On reaching 34 left the girl broke off briefly to give her colleague a thumbs-up with her free hand before starting to turn the tumbler in the opposite direction. One down, five to go…
And 22 right… Emma felt an overwhelming calm as the fingers revealed the last key inside. Not a moment to lose – glancing up at Shay, she grabbed her handle as the teller clutched hers, and both yanked their handles down and pulled.
The door didn’t budge.
It was a big door, but both had been pulling with all their might – and if it had been unlocked it would have moved slightly and slowly, and they’d have to put elbow grease in, but it would have moved. They’d been out of sync with the handles; probably just a millisecond, but it was enough to keep them on the wrong side – the one without the money.
Shay gulped nervously, thinking over what Rhona would do if this went wrong; and Emma gritted her teeth, trying not to think what Rhona would do.
“Okay, this is just a little roadblock,” the girl said calmly. “Shay, I’m going to need those steady hands of yours…”
“Steady? I screwed up! If I’d done it the exact same time as you-”
“You missed the window, these things happen, forget about it and move on.”
“But Rhona trusted me…”
“Your main job was to go in undercover here and give us the layout, and you did that. This here is *my* turf; I don’t get in the vault I take the fall, not you.” Emma took Shay’s lovely face in her hands and looked in her eyes. “You said we’d be a good team here, remember? You still trust me?”
“Yeah,” Shay replied, trying not to be nervous. “I trust you.”
“I should have given you this before you left for luck…” Emma gave Shay a kiss, and was thrilled to sense the teller relaxing a little, a smile coming to her face. “And if Rhona *does* give you shit, I promise she’s not going to get away with it.”
Looking into Emma’s eyes, Shay saw she meant it. Nodding, she faced the door again. “So… how long’s each fuse?”
“Not as long as I’d like,” Emma admitted, taking out the eight solid pipes of doom and the adhesive for each one, and handing four of them to Shay – two had slightly longer fuses than the other two – and a lighter. “Light the longer ones first; they’re exactly a second longer – they should all go up at the same time. You take care of the far side of the door, I got the handles. This should weaken the fucker; any more would blow the door apart but…”
Shay knew. Any more could blow the VAULT apart. It wasn’t that big. “I swear I won’t mess this one up…”
Each lady pressed a mass of malleable adhesive glob on their respective targets, carefully placed two nitro-filled tubes on them, and wrapped some more adhesive to keep it in place. They flicked the lighters to life, applied the flame to the tubes – and ran like the devil.
Emma and Shay only just had time to crouch and cover their heads in the far corner before the explosions. Emma never liked to use that stuff – it always worked, but it was loud. And in an enclosed place like this deafening. Worst of all, there was always a risk you could damage the goods…
The report’s echos and the smoke still lingering, the two got to their feet, Shay instinctively looking at Emma’s body. Even in this situation she couldn’t help thinkng about how beautiful it was – and thankfully how unmarked it was; there hadn’t been any metal pieces landing near them. As Shay reflected, she heard a wolf-whistle.
“Reading my mind,” she sighed.
“We’re IN!” Emma laughed, having just whistled at the vault door; it was still in the frame, but the door had been damaged. Enough for it to have the hinges wrecked, and enough to bust the handles. Patting Shay, she eagerly ran to the door and started to pull; Shay rapidly joined her, the two tugging and pulling on the door with their teeth grinding on each other. Knowing they were working against the clock helped them pull harder…
“The more we get, the more cash I can fuck you on when this is over,” Emma chuckled as the door finally swung open.
Shay Mitchell suddenly found herself feeling very, very damp.
* * * * * * * * * *
JoAnna Garcia had been through six bank robberies in her career, and this was, by far, the most ambitious. Most bank robberies were done by one person who walked into the bank, handed a note to a teller claiming they had a gun, got whatever money the teller had in the cash drawer – and usually a dye pack or some other form of anti-thievery technology – and then fled before causing too much of a stir. All the other bank robberies JoAnna had ever seen were exactly like that.
This? This was something new. It was like something out of a heist movie or a bad TV show or something. An all-girl robbery crew storming a bank and breaking into the vault? Unheard of. Even having taken out the guards and with most of them wearing masks, they had to know there was no way in hell they could get away with this.
“What’s taking them so fucking long?” the abrasive robber with the mask on asked, looking twitchy.
“How should I know?” the super-sexy blonde who’d started this whole thing by knocking out the guards, replied. “I’ve never tried to crack a bank safe before.”
“Well, they damn well better hurry,” the angry one snorted. “Jailbait and the-”
“And the TELLER she took HOSTAGE?” the blonde cut in, looking over at the other tellers, including JoAnna, who ducked her head back down.
“Whatever,” the angry one said, stepping over towards the customers. She stopped over Lucy Hale, one of the regulars JoAnna knew by name, and glared down at the tiny brunette. “You think they’ll be gone long enough for us to have a little fun?”
The masked girl lifted one foot and placed it directly atop Lucy’s ass, making the tiny girl whimper.
“What are you-” the gorgeous one started to ask.
“Nothing, ‘cept admiring a cute little behind. Relax. Not like I’m going to rape her right here in the bank or something.” The was a very pregnant pause that made JoAnna‘s skin crawl. “Unless, you know, this takes THAT much longer.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Roselyn nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Rhona’s silky, all-too-knowing voice come out of the computer. After plugging in the thumb drive, she’d sat there for a minute or two, watching as a green loading bar had appeared over the log-in screen, and quickly gone about filling up.
Still, hearing Rhona’s voice made Roselyn think a few choice words about her employer before yanking out the thumb drive and getting up out of the chair. Whatever it was Rhona wanted with this computer, it was done now. And, with the heist well underway, Roselyn was suddenly only an escape away from being done with Rhona Mitra and her evil ways.
Images of Alicia and Joshua floated past Roselyn’s eyes as she popped out of the office and headed back into the main lobby of the bank. Somehow, she wasn’t at all surprised to see Jaime Pressly standing there, one foot on the ass of a cute little brunette, waving her gun at all the others, complaining about how long things were taking.
“Take your foot off her butt,” Roselyn said in a level voice, reflecting that it would have sounded a strange thing to say to anybody other than Jaime.
“A girl’s gotta have a little fun while th– SHE’S down there loading up,” the loose cannon grumbled, holding up under the daggers Roselyn and Blake shot at her as she lifted up the foot. On the floor, Lucy exhaled and shivered; she hadn’t counted out this freak actually fucking her right there. Or worse.
“The teller’s playing ball,” Roselyn announced, taking her place alongside the other members, her gun out. “She’ll be back safe and sound, and nobody has to get hurt.”
“You always gotta ruin my fun, don’t you?” Jaime muttered, never taking her eyes off her section of the crowd for a moment. “And it’s San Francisco, they wouldn’t mind… would you, kid?”
Lucy stayed quiet, focusing on the floor.
“I asked you a question, girlie!”
“I… I’m with somebody…”
“Does he put it up there? I sure as hell would…”
“We don’t all have sex on the brain,” Blake snapped.
“Wait, are you and the boss lady twins now? And I wasn’t talkin’ to you, I was asking the little lady there a question. So how about it, sweetass?” she continued to the frightened young teacher.
“I’ve never… had it there,” Lucy managed to say, wishing that this would just END.
“Too bad. Show me,” said Jaime, patting the teacher with her heel. “Up with the dress and down with the panties.”
Lucy’s fear got added to, by indignation and disgust. “In HERE?”
“No, on Fisherman’s Wharf. Show me.”
“Leave Lucy alone!” JoAnna shouted. “What’s she done to you?”
“I said SHUT UP, RED!” Jaime aimed one of her guns at the teller, and trained the other one on Lucy. “And as for you, you’re gonna put on a show for me while we’re waiting for them to finish down there…”
“Them?” the teller asked, puzzled. “What are you talking about…”
“You are SO FUCKING DEAD, GIRLIE!” The furious and frustrated Jaime was about to cock her pistol when another was cocked. And aimed at Jaime.
“Put it down, Pressly,” Roselyn Sanchez said icily.
“PUT THE GUN DOWN OR I’LL SHOOT YOU MYSELF! We’re robbing the bank, we’re not murderers!”
“Most of us aren’t,” Blake said softly.
Jaime glared at JoAnna, who was suddenly very glad that the expression “If looks could kill” was just a saying. “This ain’t over,” she rasped, and lowered the gun.
“You’re still not off the hook. Let’s see the rump,” she continued to Lucy.
Lucy, moaning to herself in disbelief and shame, started to lift her dress up. Blake, Roselyn and JoAnna had disbelief of their own at Jaime’s expression; she looked like dinner was about to be served. And when Lucy’s legs were uncovered, with her little behind covered by a pair of dark panties, the dangerous blonde was just about licking her lips.
“Bring out the moon, missy miss.”
With her trembling hands, Lucy took hold of the top of her panties and started to pull them down; Frank, who was nearby, really wanted to crane over to take a look for himself. He really did. But with that crazy dyke robber still holding a gun on the girl, she might have shot him just for taking a…
The echo of an explosion went through the bank – it had come from the vault. Lucy let out a shocked shout, and so did other customers; in fact, everybody’s attention went there for a second, including Jaime’s. And Blake’s; the tall, sexy blonde had been particularly startled by the explosion. She hadn’t jumped, but she had been so startled that she had accidentally fired her Beretta; luckily it hadn’t been aimed at any of the hostages or tellers, and the bullet had gone into the floor near the guards (mercifully not into the guards themselves).
“I told you, I don’t like guns…” and that was all she had time to shout; as Blake looked horrified at the area she’d fired into, she was suddenly knocked off balance by a young man flying into her, a hand grabbing the wrist holding the gun as her other hand dropped the bag of loot. The two tumbled to the floor, Blake trying to get a man off her for possibly the first time in her life, Frank grunting as he slammed her gun hand into the tiles, trying to get her to let it go.
Frank saw Blake’s hand open and the gun be released, and he darted down to grab it; the rules of the game were about to change. The last thought he had in this life was that he was about to become a hero…
A gunshot rang out and there was another scream, this time from JoAnna as Frank’s stilled body fell away from Blake. The horrified blonde looked away from him towards Jaime, her gun smoking – and from the look in her eyes, it was as if she’d just swatted a fly.
Blake Lively had been right. Most of them weren’t murderers.
* * * * * * * * * *
Emma Roberts and Shay Mitchell had no idea when they’d get the word to clear out, but until then they were busy concentrating on shoving the contents of the shelves into their respective bags as fast as they could. Well, Emma was; Shay, on the other side of the vault, couldn’t help glancing over to her colleague, drinking in her beauty. Especially when she dropped a choice bundle or two and bent down to get the loot.
But Shay never stopped getting her side of the vault inside her bag; the greenbacks kept rolling in there, and they were getting pretty heavy. Neither of them had a precise idea of how much they’d gotten, but a haul of about $4-5 million minimum wasn’t out of the question. If they managed enough they could even have upwards of a million each; as she kept scooping, her mind was full of visions of Emma gently kissing her on loads of $20 bills.
An instant later, it was filled with Roselyn shouting “IT’S RUSH HOUR!”
Shay and Emma glanced at each other, grabbed their bags, hurriedly zipped them shut and started out as fast as they could. Emma didn’t stop to grab her jumpsuit, and Shay didn’t remind her.
* * * * * * * * * *
Hayden had considered calling the number the woman had given her, but that might be risky if she was inside the bank; better to wait for when the crisis had passed before tracking down the lady who’d tipped her off. But there was someone she certainly COULD call.
“Hi, Roger… okay, Mr. Zucker, you got me… I’m cooling my heels near the Union Bank. It’s usually pretty busy running up to lunchtime, but no one’s been coming out for a while. The woman who tipped me off… I didn’t get her name because she said she couldn’t hang around for long, so I think she could be a hostage. I’m going to get a little closer and report back then… Live from the scene? You bet!”
Hayden hung up and started up the idling mobile unit, looking for a good place to set up… JACKPOT! The primo real estate, right across the road from the Bank, and just one van near.
The blonde pixie beamed as she turned the engine off and got out. With enough room for them to move and plenty of time before high noon plus a chance to help the media, persuading the occupants to wait a little further along wouldn’t be a problem…
* * * * * * * * * *
“Houston, we have a problem,” Grace Park muttered, furrowing her brow at what she was hearing through the headphones.
“Tell me about it,” Megan Fox replied, glancing out the window.
“Wait, are we talking about the same thing? Because *I’m* talking about the police dispatchers.”
Megan’s stomach did a little somersault. Ever since the others had gone into the bank everything had been fine – okay, they’d heard Jaime’s gunshot, but nothing else since then except for a slight tremor; Megan figured that was just a warning. But…
“Someone in there tripped a silent alarm, and the dispatcher just sent word for the nearest squad car to come over and have a look-see. We got one thing on our side – they’ve been delayed by some kind of fight in the street…”
“Rhona?” Megan asked with a sardonic smirk.
“She’s got long tentacles but she’s not God. I think we just got lucky, but once that’s settled they’ll be here like THAT,” Grace said with a snap of the fingers. “But what’s on your mind, Foxy?”
“We got company,” the tattooed car expert said tersely, jerking a thumb out the window.
Peering around Megan, Grace saw a small blonde heading towards the van, looking as perky as could be. And that was just her breasts. Grace was relieved – at least it wasn’t a meter maid or some other cop. She started thinking furiously for a cover story in case the girl – who looked a lot like that hot girl on Channel 7 – wasn’t just wanting change or something.
“Hi!” the tiny blonde said as soon as she got to the window.
“Hi yourself, stranger,” Megan replied, managing to put on a smile.
“Waiting for anyone?”
“Actually, yeah,” Grace answered casually, still wondering where she’d seen the gorgeous thing before. “We’re picking up some casual workers in a few minutes to ferry them to Monterey home base.”
“Work in Monterey? Nice gig. They running late?”
“Should be here in ten minutes…”
“That should be enough time.”
“Huh?” asked Megan and Grace.
“See, there’s something going on around here – I heard about it a few minutes ago – and when it breaks loose I could be the first one to get it on air, so…”
“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!” Grace suddenly yelled, making Megan jump. “I KNOW YOU! I thought you looked familiar – you’re that Hayden Pantene from Channel 7! You’ve got clips all over the net – man, I *love* watching you when I’m in SanFran…”
“It’s Panettiere, but thank you,” Hayden smiled. “Anyway, this place is the best point for me to set up, so if you’d just move down a few feet…”
“Believe me, we wish we could,” Megan said, “but our boss is really picky. She said we have to stay right here, so we gotta stay. Sorry.”
Hayden laid on the puppy-dog eyes. “Please…? It’ll only be for a few minutes, I swear. I did check around before settling on this one and it’s PERFECT.”
“Welllll… if you gave me a kiss…” Grace said teasingly, and was secretly delighted to see Hayden’s eyes fail to fall.
“Maybe later. Not while I’m on duty,” the reporter replied coyly. “But it would be my pleasure to mention your business on air… what is it again?”
Oh crap. “Er… it’s Kono and Kamekona Inc.,” Grace flustered. “Finest casual agency in Montecito.”
“You said Monterey,” Hayden pointed out.
“Yeah, that’s right – I get them confused sometimes…”
“Good thing I’m driving then,” Megan chuckled. “C’mon, Hayden, cut us some slack – you can cover the bank just as well from there…”
Megan and Hayden watched the blood drain from each other’s faces as they realised what she’d just said. Out of the several business places on the other side of the street, like a mall and a supermarket, Megan had mentioned the bank… which Hayden hadn’t. And they both knew it.
“How’d you know–” Hayden started.
Suddenly Megan’s eyes and mouth dropped open, and she grabbed the wheel; at the same time, a similarly startled Grace opened the door and grabbed Hayden’s arm. Before the blonde – the only one who hadn’t heard the gunshot, the sound of Frank thudding, and Roselyn shouting the codephrase – could ask what the fuck she was doing she was pulled inside at speed, helped along by Megan starting the van *fast*.
As the driver turned and drove furiously towards the bank, Grace shoved the startled reporter into the rear and climbed back after her. If the van had had a rear window, Hayden could have seen the Channel 7 unit parked and now abandoned in the street.
“What the FUCK are you doing?!?” Hayden shouted, as Grace pinned her down and regretted the others taking all the guns – some kind of persuasive tactics would have been useful.
“Be quiet and play nice, Panties. I’ll have that kiss now…”
“You can kiss my ass! And my name’s PANETTIERE, dammit!”
“I might just hold you to that,” Grace panted as Hayden struggled. Holding down a sexy little blonde was fun, but she had other things to worry about; the cops were almost on site, and there was no way the gang was going to be able to leave before they got there.
“You were right, Foxy,” she called back to Megan as the least welcome sound in the world – police sirens – drew nearer. “We got company.”
* * * * * * * * * *
If there’d been a contest to see who was the most horrified of all the people in the San Francisco Union Bank, Lucy Hale would have walked it; the teacher screamed to the heavens when Frank’s dead body landed beside her. The spell broken, Lucy scrambled to her feet and started to run for the door.
Blake Lively was nervous, and she was disgusted at Jaime Pressly, but she was still part of the gang. Having quickly retrieved her gun, she had it aimed at Lucy again; the small woman’s dark, frightened eyes widened as she looked into the barrel of the Beretta.
“Please, I just wanna get OUT of here!” she pleaded.
“You will…” Blake said, trying not to let the gun shake as she took Lucy by an arm. “You’re just coming with us… with the cash there. Pick it up.”
“Why can’t you…” Lucy started, before she realised Blake’s hands were occupied. She lifted the heavy bag up.
Emma Roberts and Shay Mitchell emerged from the passageway on the double, Shay holding the bags filled with cash and being “hustled” along by Emma. “One of you give me a hand keeping an eye on baby girl!” Emma shouted, holding out her free hand, soon filled with Jaime’s spare gun which the blonde handed her en route to the teller’s desk, and while the safecracker turned on Shay.
“But I got you your money – what do you want with me?!” Shay pleaded.
“The cops are out there. You just became our travel insurance… Yeah, I’m naked. You got a problem with that?!?” Emma snapped, glaring at some of the more wide-eyed customers. (Since Emma refused to wear ANYTHING while in action, even the mask she had worn into the vault and left there with the jumpsuit, this left Roselyn Sanchez and Jaime as the only members [who the innocents knew of] still sporting disguises.)
JoAnna Garcia was every bit as nervous as the other tellers when Jaime approached the desk; even more so, because she had seen the look in the blonde’s eyes when she’d killed that poor boy. And that look was nowhere near gone when she got right up to JoAnna and brought the gun up. The teller mentally started praying that it would be quick…
“You heard Lady Godiva there,” the blonde said. “You just became our travel insurance.”
Inside, JoAnna became a mixture of relief (they weren’t about to kill her) and fear (travel insurance?).
“Move it, Red! I ain’t asking you again!”
JoAnna moved it, glancing at her colleagues as she got out from being the counter. With Jaime’s gun on the redhead all the way, she joined the rapidly retreating gang members and the hostages, weapons aimed at the customers as they made for the doors. She was practically next to the flustered, worried Shay; both looked almost grateful to be together, and Lucy was just glad that it was Blake holding her at gunpoint. As crooked as she might be, at least Lucy wouldn’t be held by someone who wanted to freaking rape her.
“They can’t hurt us, Shay…” JoAnna said to the teller. “They just need us to get out of here.”
Shay nodded, hoping that the slips Jaime had made had been forgotten.
Glancing back, Roselyn could see the van through the thick glass, right in position. And a little farther away, she could also make out several blue-and-white vehicles.
“HEY, COPS!” Jaime shouted through the door. “We got us some hostages and we’re taking them for a ride! You wanna start shooting be my guest, but you might just hit one of them…”
* * * * * * * * * *
The San Francisco Police Department had contingency plans for everything. Terrorist attacks, natural disasters, race and sexual preference-related riots, toxic chemical spills, over-zealous sports fans, and even alien invasion – though that particular file had a metric ton of dust upon it.
But among all those files was a very clear and very detailed response to an armed robbery at each and every bank in the entire city. Sorted by bank location, level of severity, and number of robbers involved, these files were only recently uploaded to an online computer system that allowed senior police officers to access them on laptops from inside their patrol cars. San Francisco Union Bank’s heist was the first time Lt. Simon Archer had the opportunity to use the new system.
So far, he wasn’t all that impressed.
“What do you mean, you THINK there was an explosion inside a few minutes ago?!” Archer screamed into his radio. “Was there an explosion or wasn’t there?!”
“I don’t know, sir!” the officer on the other side called back. “The witness THOUGHT he heard something that SOUNDED like an explosion.”
“God damn it!” Archer muttered, pounding on the keys of his keyboard. IF what little information they had was correct, 3 heavily armed robbers, all wearing ski masks, had stormed into the bank an undetermined number of minutes ago – under a half-hour was the guess, but since no alarms had gone up until something had happened to the vault itself, no one outside the bank knew for sure.
The plan Archer was trying to pull up was a detailed disposition of where to place the rapidly arriving, but scattered response from the cops. The SWAT Team, which would handle the situation if the robbers tried to actually hole up in the bank, was still ten minutes out, apparently caught up in some sort of traffic issue. As it was, Archer and his Patrol car was only the third police unit to arrive, behind another patrol car with a guy ten days from retirement and a rookie in it, and a foot-patrol officer who’d been flagged down by whatever witness was claiming there might have been an explosion.
Finally, the laptop beeped with the download, and a painfully simple diagram of the bank and the surrounding buildings came up on the screen. As Archer watched, red dots appeared on the map, showing where he should place police officers and snipers – Snipers? He didn’t have any god damn snipers! – to contain the robbers. Assuming there were only 3 of them, and assuming they were going to hole up in the bank and try and negotiate their way out.
The diagram stopped at 57 dots.
“Great. Only short 54 men to do this job,” Archer grumbled. “And a fucking helicopter or six.”
“Where do you want us, Simon?” one of the officers called out.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Archer grumbled. “Bass, take Archibald over and cover the south side of the building – there’s another exit there. “I’ll cover the front until more help gets here.” Archer scanned the scene with his binoculars. Couldn’t see anything in the bank itself, but the vultures were already here. At least one News Van – Channel 7 – was on the scene, and another was pulling in. Also Channel 7 – those guys were either very thorough, or didn’t give a fuck about their gas budget…
Archer was distracted as a very cute, young looking blonde popped out of the news van, followed by a camera crew, and raced to start setting up. He recognized her – most heterosexual men in San Fran recognized Ashley Benson and her killer legs – and groaned. He did NOT want to be caught on camera fucking this up. He took a second to check his hair in the mirror – he told himself it was for the camera, not the major hottie in front of it.
“We let these guys get away, Chief Humphrey’s going to have your ass,” Bass commented over the radio.
“Humphrey can suck my cock, for all I care,” Archer shot back. “He wants me to do this job, he can fucking pay for that damn hostile negotiation class I wanted to take last year.”
* * * * * * * * * *
It had been a very slow, very painful morning for Troian Bellisario. The pain in her asshole was gradually relenting… no, more like g-r-a-d-u-a-l-l-y relenting; she’d managed to drag herself off the bed and gingerly get on jeans and a T-shirt, relieved that this time she’d remembered to shut the curtains so the husband of Maddie Harrington next door didn’t get himself another free show.
Carrying herself into the kitchen to stock up on snacks and drink and then heading into the living room wincing every inch of the way, Troian blessed whoever invented remote controls as she put the set on; Channel 7 filled the room up with son et lumiere. The brunette cracked a grin; Hayden was such a suck-up, always leaving it on their workplace before she turned in. But today she had a good reason, and Troian was glad she’d remembered to log the evening news in the TiVo before turning in. She lowered herself onto the sofa and toyed with the remote control, glancing at the clock. “Oooh, almost time for ‘Reba,’” she said with a smile. “Hot older woman alert…”
“This Is A Channel 7 Breaking Story!”
Reba McEntire and company disappeared from her mind as work came to the forefront; the OTT graphics flew from the screen to show the Channel 7 newsroom, and Tony Romano and his inability to keep from capitalising every word he said behind the desk, wearing his serious face. The Big One? Bad guys attacking?
“The San Francisco Union Bank Is Under Siege! This Morning A Gang Of Armed Thieves Has Broken Into The Bank And Are Currently In A Standoff With The Police. Ashley Benson, Live From The Scene, Reports…”
Great. Like her ass wasn’t hurting enough already.
“They made their move not long after eleven,” Ashley said, brushing the hair from her eyes from time to time. “They’re in the van that you can see behind me, parked in front of the bank. I’m reliably informed that hostages are in there, but details are sketchy as to how many, or how many robbers there actually are.”
“And I Understand We May Have One Of Our Own In There, Ashley.”
“That’s right, Tony. Hayden Panettiere phoned the station earlier with this message…”
“HAYDEN??!?” Troian screamed at the screen, as a picture of her beloved’s face appeared on the screen with “HAYDEN PANETTIERE – Earlier Today” underneath, accompanied by a not-too-clear recording of the blonde:
“It’s usually pretty busy running up to lunchtime, but no one’s been coming out for a while. The woman who tipped me off… I didn’t get her name because she said she couldn’t hang around for long, so I think she could be a hostage. I’m going to get a little closer and report back then…”
Troian had been looking forward to Hayden being on TV, but not like this. She scrambled for the phone as the image cut back to Ashley.
“When I got here I didn’t see Hayden anywhere, but the Channel 7 mobile unit she brought was parked across from the bank; it’s being returned to the station now. Until we hear otherwise, we can only assume that Hayden is one of the hostages…”
Troian frantically dialled the station – her first inclination had been to call Hayden on her cellphone, but the robbers might have taken it, or hear it ringing and kill her to shut her up. But she had to talk to SOMEBODY… maybe the station would be able to help her find out who’d called.
“Yeah, I just saw it… I know! I’m crapping myself worrying about Hayden… Must have been quite a tip. When’d they call the station?… WHAT? You’re sure?… That’s what she said? You sure?… Uh-huh… Thanks, I’ll stay tuned…”
Troian hung up, baffled. Whoever had passed on the tip hadn’t called the station… they’d called Hayden on her own cellphone. And her baby, friendly though she was, only gave her number to family, very close friends – REALLY close, in Troian’s case – and to her work colleagues. Hayden had probably been in such a rush to cover that tip that it wouldn’t have occurred to her to wonder why they called her directly.
Whoever had passed on the tip had specifically wanted Hayden to be down there… and there was only one person who Troian could think of who wanted that. But that would mean she was mixed up with the robbers… and the worst of it was, she would not have put it past an ambitious little tramp like Ashley.
The news flash was over, but Troian Bellisario was in no mood for “Reba.” At all.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Movement! Got a van racing towards the bank!”
“FUCK!” Archer swore, popping up out of his patrol car and drawing his pistol. He was barely on his feet, with his gun leveled towards the bank by the time the van screeched to a halt next to the front door. There was maybe ten feet between the van and the front door – not much room for anyone but the snipers Archer didn’t have to get a shot in, with the van blocking most of the space between from Archer’s view.
“Where’s my helicopter?” Archer screamed into his microphone as he waited, praying more help would arrive. Like that damn SWAT Team he’d been promised. Or even just a more senior officer to take the blame when the shit hit the fan.
“What do we do, Archer?” one of the other cops on the scene asked.
“Don’t shoot – whatever you do, don’t shoot unless they start shooting first, or try and get in that van,” he ordered. He glanced over at the news crew – still just Channel 7 and the leggy Ashley Benson, who was clearly doing a live broadcast now.
“HEY, COPS!” a loud female voice shouted through the door. “We got us some hostages and we’re taking them for a ride! You wanna start shooting be my guest, but you might just hit one of them…”
“Fuck,” Archer groaned, seeing his entire career go up as women – women? – started racing from the bank to the van, two of them wearing ski masks, three of them holding other women in front of them, clearly as hostages, and one of them stark naked.
“What the fuck?” Bass’ voice came over the radio. “Are they all chicks?”
“And is that girl naked?” Archibald’s voice cut in. “Is she a hostage or a robber?”
“Who cares – dibs on putting the cuffs on her,” Bass said.
“No way, you got to cuff that drunk stripper who tried to pick pocket Judge Buckner last week.”
“Would you two SHUT UP?!” Archer yelled at them. “Where the fuck is everyone else?!”
It took less than fifteen seconds for the girls to all jump into the van, and the vehicle took off before the door was even closed. Archer stood there for a long second, his jaw somewhat slack.
Then he realized just what he’d witnessed. “GET IN YOUR CAR AND GO AFTER THEM!!!!” Archer screamed, leaping back into his car, acutely aware that the he was going to have to race past the Channel 7 News Van to go after the robbers. Dreading the fact that his face was going to be all over TV as the idiot cop who’d screwed this all up, Archer started to mentally compose his resignation letter.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Who the fuck is this?” Jaime Pressly said as she practically landed atop Hayden Panettiere.
“You weren’t the only one with troubles,” Megan Fox snapped as the girls and their hostages jumped into the van. She glared at Roselyn Sanchez. “What happened in there?”
“Nothing good,” Roselyn said, looking back at Emma Roberts. “Where are your clothes?”
“I work better nude, sue me,” Emma said, trying to get up off all fours and into a seat.
“Oooh, is that your scar?” Grace Park asked, reaching out and touching the small bite mark on Emma’s rear end. “It’s so cute!”
“Grace, concentrate!” Roselyn snapped. “Are the cops after us?”
The sudden flashing of red and blue lights from behind the van answered that question.
“Okay, there are too many people in this van!” Megan said, swerving through an intersection against the lights, forcing cars coming from the opposite direction to screech out of her way. The two cop cars following them followed along quickly. “I can’t get any speed!”
“We took the slimmest hostages we could find!” Jaime replied, her hand suspiciously upon poor little Lucy Hale’s skirt-covered rump. “Left the fatties behind.”
“Please, don’t hurt us!” JoAnna said. “Just let us out, we won’t tell them anything, will we, Shay?”
“Shut up,” Shay said, trying to step over Hayden and approach the front of the van. Megan’s driving wasn’t making that any easier. “How can we help, Megan?”
“Sit the fuck down, for starters,” Megan said.
“And use that rope to tie up the hostages,” Roselyn added. “Jaime, I know your trigger finger works – you feel like shooting at some cops?”
“Boss Lady, you just about made me cream my panties,” Jaime said, hefting her MP5 and moving towards the back of the van. Megan took a sharp right turn, throwing everyone about harshly, and Grace landed in Emma’s lap.
“Ooh, can I sit here for the rest of the ride?” Grace asked, her eyes locked on Emma’s naked titties.
“NO!” Roselyn, Blake and Emma all shouted together.
“Okay, okay. Sheesh, girl can’t get any during a heist anymore.”
“Grace, I swear, if you help Megan get us out of this mess, I’ll let you lick my ass-scar,” Emma pleaded as the hot Asian reluctantly slipped off her naked legs.
“I’ll hold you to that,” Grace said, her eyes running down Emma’s body one more time and actually licking her lips before turning back to her laptop.
“You – you’re a part of all this?” JoAnna asked, her face white with shock as Shay tied the redhead’s hands with rope.
“Sorry,” Shay said with a sad little smile. “I didn’t have a choice. None of us did.”
“Speak for yourself, Pouty-Lips,” Jaime said, stepping over them. “Blake, come here and hold my belt, would’ya?”
“Your belt?” Blake asked, carefully stepping over Hayden and Lucy. “What do I need to hold your belt for?”
“So I don’t go flying out the back when I do this!” Jaime said right before kicking the back doors open. As they swung out, she stepped right up to the edge of the van, lifted her MP5 to her hips in a two handed grip, and started firing away at the two cop cars behind them, full auto.
Blake yelped and leapt for Jaime’s belt, managing to get her fingers around the leather strap before Megan swerved around a slow moving VW Bug. Jaime staggered and nearly tipped out of the van, and would have if Blake hadn’t been pulling her back in.
“WOOOOOOOOO!!!!” Jaime cried out happily. “Now THIS is fun!”
“If you aren’t going to HIT the cops, close the damn doors!” Megan screamed back at her. “You’re adding drag!”
“Drag this!” Jaime shouted back, firing off another dozen rounds from her gun, this time stitching a line of holes through the hood and windshield of the cop car directly behind her. None of the girls could tell if she actually HIT the cop driving it, but the car spun out of control and slammed into a passing trolly.
“Holy shit!” Jaime exclaimed. “I did NOT plan that, but it was AWESOME!”
“Oh my god, do you know how many people you just killed?!?!” Shay screamed.
“Nope – Kung-Pow Hottie, can you look that up on the internet?” Jaime asked, looking expectantly at Grace.
“Not now she can’t!” Roselyn cut in. “Grace! Directions! Now!”
“Take a left here, Megan!” Grace called out, her fingers flying over her keyboard.
“Here?!” Megan asked.
“Yes, here!” Grace cried. The van shifted violently, and Jaime once again nearly went flying out the back as everyone else was flung about in their seats.
“How far is the place from here?!” Megan yelled, knowing that this wasn’t the quickest route back to the hideout.
“As far as it takes to lose them!” Grace shouted back.
And that might not be for a while, the hacker thought as Megan shot the van through a red light. They might have been down to just one police car in pursuit, but that was still one too many. At least there wasn’t any aerial pursuit.
Behind them, Shay was busy securing the insurance. For someone who looked so innocent, Shay really knew how to tie a knot; as much as to avoid JoAnna’s shocked and angry eyes as to focus on what she was doing – or as much as she could focus with Megan’s driving and Jaime’s shooting – she secured Lucy’s hands and legs.
“We just want you so we can get away,” she told the teacher, glancing up at the frightened young woman. Lucy’s eyes were telling her she didn’t believe them.
In the back of the van, Blake watched over Jaime’s shoulder nervously as she held the other blonde’s belt, managing to keep her balance and ignoring the squabbling behind her. Jaime was holding her fire until she could see the whites of the cops’ eyes; the weight of the robbers, the hostages and the money was working against Megan’s driving, and now the partner of the cop behind the wheel was close enough to start taking potshots. And there he was, aiming his gun.
“Not on MY watch!” Jaime howled, opening fire. Bullets sprayed the windshield and left side of the police car, hitting the cop’s gun hand. To her disappointment, the hand wasn’t actually blown off, but the gun did fly off onto the road. And Jaime saw the driver’s head jerk back with a flash of red before the car lost all control, spun into another lane and directly in front of an oncoming… oh, who cared what caused that loud smashing and crashing?
“MISSION AFUCKINGCCOMPLISHED!” she crowed… as a third car started to join in. One of the (hopefully late) cops must have called in for backup, and there it was, zipping through the traffic and heading towards them a lot faster than any of them hoped. And if there was one there just might be others – you didn’t go and cause two cop cars to be written off without their friends noticing.
Behind them, Emma noticed the smile on Hayden’s face; something had taken her mind off this situation for a moment. Following the reporter’s gaze, Emma’s eyes fell on Blake’s stance in the doorway – her legs were apart to give her purchase, and her ass was sticking out with the dress stretched out over it.
“Forget it,” Emma told her. “Blake’s into boys.”
“I’ve met straight guys who’ve sucked cock. Anything’s possible…” Hayden said dreamily, before her vantage point was blocked.
“Your turn,” said the blocker, Shay. “This won’t take long.”
“You read my mind,” the reporter cackled as Shay leant forward with the ropes.
Even though the van wasn’t taking a corner, Shay landed on the other side among the gang members – for such a tiny girl, Hayden Panettiere packed quite a punch. The tangle that was caused as Shay, Emma and Roselyn tried to extricate each other, yelling as they went, was enough for the reporter to scramble to the front of the van as fast as she dared. No WAY was she going to be held by these thieves – no way.
“Now why didn’t I think of that?” JoAnna Garcia asked herself softly.
“Okay, now take the next turning to the right,” Grace said urgently. “That’ll take you–”
“–right up to where we get off,” Hayden interrupted.
“We haven’t got time for any shit, little gir…” As she turned to face Hayden and found herself looking right at the barrel of a gun, Grace’s voice tailed off.
“I lifted it from that gun-toting blonde when she landed on me,” Hayden explained. “You were all so hellbent on getting out she didn’t notice it was gone. How about it, Danica Patrick?” she added, looking at Megan.
“How about you sit the fuck back down and stop trying to be a hero?” the driver asked. “Are you gonna shoot me?”
“No. Her,” Hayden added, pointing it to Grace’s leg. “I’m not a killer, but you don’t want to turn up at ER with a whole lot of stolen cash and get people asking questions. They gotta do that with gunshots.”
“Aw, come on Pannatone…”
“Not happening, girlie,” Megan said, seeing the turning she wanted; Grace hadn’t told her but it was like a gift. Time to kill two birds with one stone. “Going up…”
The van swerved sharply off the road and onto a rising turn, taking it fast enough and suddenly enough for everyone in it to tumble back. Especially Hayden. Scrabbling for a grip, she plunged back among the others, losing hold of the gun which clattered to the floor and slowly started sliding to the back – but grabbing Grace, pulling her roughly with her. “This ain’t the time or the place…!” Grace managed to shout as she and Hayden tumbled amongst the others, who tried to separate their colleague from the kicking and thrashing reporter. Hayden had her hands around Grace’s throat, Grace desperately trying to pull them off.
The slope wasn’t sharp, fortunately for Jaime and Blake in the rear; Blake still had to tense herself a little and hope that Jaime could finish off these cars – SONOFABITCH! Now there were two of them! – before she ran out of ammo. Either that, or hope that Megan could lose them… she turned to scream back “FIND A SHORT CUT!” at the driver and navigator. And saw the face of the navigator a lot closer than she’d hoped; Grace and Hayden were wriggling around in the confined space, with Grace managing to wrench the blonde’s hands free and shove her away, extricating herself and hurrying back to the front.
“All of you hold her or we’ll never get her tied up!” Roselyn snapped, as Hayden struggled, eyeing the open door. Jumping out was risky, but it was a chance she was prepared to take; hitting she didn’t know or care who with her legs, she scrambled for the exit only for Emma to grab her. Hayden’s arms flailed out… and hit Blake’s legs. Hayden only held on for a couple of seconds, but it was enough for Blake to start to lose her balance.
“NO!!!” she screamed, feeling her grip on Jaime’s belt loosen just as the pursuing cars came closer. She tried to tighten it. *Tried.*
Jaime was aiming for the hoods, to get those fuckers off the road and out of their sight. Just as she fired, she fell forward and stopped sharply… Blake had let go, but only for a split-second. But she had stopped so abruptly that Jaime experienced her worst nightmare.
She dropped her gun.
This had to be how it felt for men to have their dicks cut off. “SHIT!” Jaime yelled as the weapon crashed onto the tarmac and she shut her eyes; she couldn’t bear to watch FUCKING COPS run over the thing and destroy it. Jaime felt behind her for the gun in her waistband; she needed to show the closing-in boys in blue who was the boss… “Whatthefuckisthiscrap?!?” she growled. Where was her spare?!
Blake had frantically grabbed the doorframe with her free hand, dangling outside at a deadly angle and trying to hold on as the van sped uphill. Jaime wasn’t an elephant but she couldn’t stay like this forever, and if they both fell out… “GET US IN THERE!” the tall blonde screamed back inside. “PULL US BACK NOW!”
“ONE OF YOU GET THESE GUYS OFF OUR TAILS! I LOST MY PIECES!” Jaime shouted.
Thrashing underneath Emma, Hayden grabbed her hair and yanked back hard as she glimped Jaime’s gun. So did Emma. They both went for it – but Shay scooped it up before she headed for Blake, balancing between moving fast enough to get to her and not fast enough to fall victim to the slope. Roselyn also got up, with her gun in her hand, and moved as close to the opening as she could; pressing herself against the side, she aimed at the closest of the cars, both of which contained cops about to open fire at a much closer range than before. And with two ideal targets hanging outside.
“HELP ME!!!” Blake screamed. “I CAN’T HOLD JAIME MUCH LONGER!!!”
“How high is this hill?!?” Shay yelled back at Megan as she reached Blake. Praying, she leaned forward and circled Blake’s waist with one arm, aiming at the cars with the other as she started to pull Blake back inside; Blake, getting a slightly better hold on Jaime with one hand and bringing her other arm off the door frame to get a better grip, started in turn to bring her colleague back up.
Shay and Roselyn fired, both aiming at the tyres; Shay missed – but Roselyn didn’t. The front tyres of one of the cars burst, sending it veering away and screeching off the road and down the side of the slope. It thundered down to the bottom, crashing to a stop. But that still left one, on the verge of touching the van.
“Hit the damn drivers!” Jaime snarled. “Here, gimme that and I’ll show you how it’s…”
It was at that moment that Megan crested the top of the hill, sending the van airborne as it flew onto the other side. Grace couldn’t resist a “WHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” and all the ladies, including Jaime, screamed in a mixture of fright and adrenaline. She, Blake and Shay had a particularly great view as the car fell away, temporarily out of sight and the wheels briefly off the ground. With a reverberating thud the van landed, and Blake and Jaime tumbled back inside, landing on Shay and joining the others; only Roselyn managed to stay up, but she almost lost her gun.
As a kid, one of Megan’s favourite movies had been “Duel”; now here she was taking one of those great downhill drives with loads of hairpin bends. Even though she was driving something bigger than a car, she did not want to wind up like the truck driver in that film; they’d been approaching 70 even uphill, and it wasn’t getting any slower downhill. And the sound of that hot reporter still putting up a fight back there wasn’t helping…
Although Jaime didn’t need Blake to hold her as long as they were going downhill, she still needed the guns just in case that car managed to get closer. A couple of hand gestures later, Shay and Roselyn handed her the weapons.
“Thank you kindly… WAIT A MINUTE! How’d you get my backup, brown sugar?” Jaime asked Shay.
“That blonde had it,” Shay replied, knowing better than to point out that she was more biracial than black.
“I saw her hit your friend’s legs as well,” Lucy added.
“No one likes a tattletale,” Hayden said as she shot a whole sheath of daggers at Lucy.
“So it’s your fault I lost that piece of mine?” Jaime snapped, returning the daggers to Hayden. “Taking guns to try and escape I got no real problem with – hey, I’d do the same thing – but you do NOT. Make me LOSE. MY GUNS! EVER!!!”
“She’s not kidding,” Roselyn added.
“This here is a personal favourite of mine, and if it had fallen out of this van I swear I’d have thrown you after it.”
“Thank you,” Hayden smiled.
“Anyway that car’s probably next to us so it’s Wheelie’s problem. You, on the other hand… gimme the ropes, Brownie.”
“She has a name, you know,” Emma muttered as Shay gave Jaime the ropes and jumped on Hayden – and took the reporter’s feet on her chest for her troubles. This was gonna be tough.
“This is gonna be tough,” Grace said, looking out the window.
Megan followed her glance – the other car had managed to catch up to and draw alongside the van as Jaime had guessed. Megan stared out of the window at the cops – they were actually indicating that she should pull over… what were they, freaking Canadians?
“Pull over THIS!” she shouted, giving them the bird with one hand as she brought the van against the side of the car with the other. The car shuddered slightly but stayed nearby, as Megan stamped on the accelerator and swerved in for another shot. Knocking it a little further, she pulled away as she took each curve down, hoping that there wouldn’t be another CAR!
Some jackass in the kind of car she stole a lot had taken the next turning at the speed of light and was going right for them. Megan spun the wheel and screeched around the loser behind the wheel with only a splitsecond to spare, then just as sharply brought it back round before she sent the van over the edge of the slope.
“Learn to drive, fuckwit!” Grace shouted out the window to the departing speedster. “Sheesh. Who taught these people, Stevie Wonder?!?”
In the back of the van, Hayden was living out a fantasy most of the women in the van had had at one time or another; being the centre of attention among several very hot ladies, most of whom had a hand on some part of her anatomy. Even though there wasn’t much space she struggled and thrashed and kicked, and in Emma’s case she had even tried to give a good tit twist (and why was this girl naked anyway? Weirdo).
“Damn, girl moves like an eel!” Jaime said as she slapped away Hayden’s arms, a lot more impressed than she let on. “You like this in bed?”
“Are you ALWAYS on?” Emma asked, trying to force Hayden’s legs together. JoAnna and Lucy had the same thought, but they just looked on, both having decided to just wait it out. With Jaime being the only real psycho in the bunch maybe numbers would keep them safe from her.
“Is it her fault that we’ve got three sexy hostages?” Shay pointed out, not seeing the not-entirely-displeased look on JoAnna’s face, even in this situation.
Hayden got a leg loose to kick Emma right in the crotch; her eyes widened when she got a feel of how surprisingly moist the safecracker was – a very quick feel, because Roselyn pushed the leg back down. “Don’t you know that only works with boys?” Emma laughed.
Blake didn’t miss the knowing glance all the other members gave her. She just rolled her eyes as she helped Jaime clamp Hayden’s arms together, wondering why none of them had brought any strong tape – the reporter’s stream of profanity wasn’t helping.
“Did you say something about a shortcut?” Megan asked Grace.
“Around here? You got some kind of dimension-opening thing up your snatch? ‘Cause that’s the only way you’re getting a shortcut.”
“Maybe not…” Megan pointed out the window. There was still some way to get to the road at the base of the hill if they continued this way, but…
Grace got it at once. “Oh no. Ohhhh no….”
“Ohhhh yes. We got a long way to go and a short time to get there – hang on, Nerd Girl…”
The next curve on the road went to the left but Megan spun the van to the right, shooting it off the road and onto the slope, hurtling it down the side and making the ride a lot bumpier than before. The money bags bounced along each stone and bump on the ground, and so did all three bound hostages (although Hayden still insisted on fighting the bonds). And so did the robbers.
Blake was trying to make herself as comfortable as she could in such cramped quarters, but Hayden was directly opposite her and she got no comfort from knowing that Hayden’s gaze was transfixed on her breasts and the way they bounced up and down with each jiggle. She was willing to bet money that all the other ladies in the back of the van (except possibly Lucy) were having a look as well.
“No offence to Shay, but is there anyone in this setup who ISN’T a lesbian hobbit?” Blake sighed.
“I like guys,” Lucy piped up timidly. She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Is it your fault you’re so hot you’re upstaging a girl who’s fucking naked?” Hayden pointed out.
Blake broke into a huge grin. Emma very definitely did not.
This journey wasn’t doing the undercarriage of the van much good, but unless the police car had jet engines there was no way it would get to the bottom before Megan did. And there was the road right ahead; fairly busy with early afternoon traffic. Megan turned the van to bring it off the base of the slope and into the flow of the traffic, cutting right into a small gap and in front of a bus, ignoring all the honks. The car was way behind them now, but not so far behind that they couldn’t see it.
“You bought us some time but not enough!” Grace shouted. “And the nearest exit is a damn entrance!”
“Say what now?”
“It’s a one-way road!”
“Will it get us to home base sooner?”
“If it doesn’t get us all killed it will!”
“You get lemons, you make lemonade. Now let’s see if we got a Duke on our tail or a Cletus…”
“Weren’t the Dukes deputies once?”
Cutting through cars and bikes like quicksilver, Megan got to the turnoff and added yet another traffic violation to the long list by diving into oncoming traffic. Megan veered from one lane to the next and back, waiting for Grace to tell her when she could turn, and darting away from everything from cars to buses, literally scraping past a couple. This was ironically a little easier than those bends earlier – at least she knew everything was coming for her, so it kept her alert.
The robbers and hostages continued to be thrown around like ragdolls in the back. “I thought she was supposed to be a good driver!” Emma muttered.
“We’re still in one piece and we’re still moving, aren’t we?” Roselyn pointed out.
“‘Sides, the sooner we get home the sooner I can have a few words with the hobbit over yonder,” Jaime added, glancing at Hayden. “You owe me for my gun, and I’m taking it right out of your ass.”
“That girl up there with the driver has first dibs,” the reporter parried.
“Who said I was going for YOU first?” Jaime winked at Lucy.
Grace avoided the storm outside the window by studying the route onscreen. “We’re nearly there… you need to turn to the right NOW!”
Megan spun the van around and took it down the turning, doing a little more dodging of cars and sending a couple veering aside before bringing it into the right road, screeching it into the proper lane and hurtling it towards home. Behind them, the luckless police car and two other vehicles that had been caught up in the same accident lay in a smoking wreck, as traffic started to back up in that direction and making any further pursuit problematic for the time being.
“Barring any more hangers-on we should be there in about fifteen minutes,” Grace sighed in relief.
“You hear that?” Megan shouted to the back. “We lost ‘em!”
The robbers all broke into perfectly timed applause; perfectly timed because it was at this moment that Hayden’s cellphone, tucked away inside her dress, vibrated; nobody noticed, fortunately for Miss Panettiere. Unfortunately, neither did Hayden herself. Not yet, anyway.
* * * * * * * * * *
As she locked the door, Troian Bellisario prayed that Hayden would be able to read the message she had sent her. And that she managed to read it before she kept her appointment.
“Mushroom – A’s in on the robbery and she set you up. My ass still hurts but so will hers when I get my hands on her. Luv you, Troi.”