"Oh, yeeeees, George!" - the celebrity erotica thread

Cafe Society
1

Ever fancied writing erotic fiction? Ever actually taken the plunge? (Don’t answer that - I’m not actually interested - just a rhetorical question.)

Well, here’s your chance to learn a new skill or hone your technique.

Rules? Simple. Weave a tale of intrigue and passion (with a lot of moaning thrown in) around famous real-life characters. No naughty words, no sexually graphic language, no dopers (well, allude to them all you like, but no names), but lots of innuendo and smut. Without further ado:

"It was her first day on the job and the new girl admired herself in the mirror. Although she knew she would never make the cover of Playboy, at 50 Condi still had the kind of body that made sweaty men in check pants - and people of indeterminate sex in dungarees - take their glasses off, rub them on their shirt-tails and take a second squint.

She felt a frisson of excitement as she raked her freshly-manicured fingernails over her taut stomach. She was awoken from her reverie by the sound of the phone ringing.

‘Condoleezza, you may come in now’, said the voice, vaguely familiar, as it aroused feelings long dormant in Condi’s core.

‘Condi, you there? Please enter’, repeated the voice, the deep baritone betraying a hint of impatience.

‘Yes, yes - I’m sorry - of course, boss’, the svelte Secretary of State replied, smoothing down her skirt and re-buttoning her blouse."

She made her way to the Oval Office, took a deep breath, and knocked."

2

Question: Are we supposed to follow your startup, or simply have an imaginary tale of our own?

3

Sorry, that was unclear (he breathed). Follow my start up, but take it wherever the inner man (or woman) takes you.

4

Just then Condi awoke with a start from her dream. She saw the cold steel walls of her small sleeping quarters on the * Flower of Infinity*, and pondered her former life; before the Kha!älh attacked and conquered the Earth, forcing humanity to flee before their mighty bioships. She thought longingly of her time as Secretary of State, back when Earth was still free and pure.

But among these thoughts of loss and regret flowed other, more pleasant thoughts. She was suddenly very aroused, and she needed release. “I’ve been through a lot, working to guide what remains of the human race through the gamut of hostile interstellar space,” she thought, “I deserve a bit of fun.” She reached to the small durasteel cabinet beside her bunk, and pulled out a Hitachi Magic Wand.

5

Tapping the wand on her speaker produced a clear, bell-like tone. Almost immediately the hatch to her cabin snapped open. “Ma’am, you called?” asked the young, fresh-faced ensign who stood there.

“Ah Barbara, just the person I wanted to see! Come over here please” The younger woman hesitated.

“Now!” said Condi again. God, she thought, sometimes it felt so good to boss the kids around.

6

You know, from the title of this thread, I thought it was going to involve Gracie Allen.

Carry on.

7

I-I-I can’t get Condi’s taut stomach out my mind!

8

{Bee-have, you lot!}

Barbara walked across to her boss, the sharp echo of her stillettos matching the pounding of her young, recently-broken, heart.

The ebony goddess flicked the tip of her wand absent-mindedly over the palm of her hand, as she gestured the ensign to the sofa. For the first time, she realised she was looking at her not just as a subordinate but as a woman.

9

Condi’s smile grew more broad, but in a gentle, more caressing tone she asked “How’s your sister?”

“Uh, Jen? Ma’am, as far as I know the ship she’s on is keeping up.”

Condi sat down beside Barbara, noting the nervous pulse in the ivory column of the other woman’s throat, the slight sheen of sweat across her upper lip. She reached out to…

10

Heh…I was thinking George and Weezi Jefferson.
:smiley:

11

… take the wine glass from her manicured hand, the back of her hand brushing against the sheer fabric of her blouse.

“This is your first time, isn’t it?” she intoned.

“H-How did you know?” responded the younger woman, her hazel eyes unable to meet her boss’s all-knowing gaze.

“George told me.”

Condi paused to let her words have their full effect on the quivering intern.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “So he told you everything?”

12

“Yes, everything,” Condi emphasized. “Including how he’d make you watch while he had his way with Jen, and vice-versa.”

Barbara gulped audibly. She never thought anyone would know about that. But there was no sign of disapproval in Condi’s eyes; if anything, there was a spark – no, a flame – of thrill, of the pleasure in the forbidden.

13

Her eyes widened even further as Condi bent closer. Reaching out a hand she gently brushed aside a few strands of hair from Barb’s forehead, that had escaped the tight bun at the nape of her neck.

The olders woman closer, to brush her lips across…

“Ma’am!” squeaked Barb “this isn’t right! It was never right! Please, I don’t want it to happen again!”

“Shhhhhhh” soothed Condi. “Relax. It’s not like it hurts, you know that.” With her other hand, Condi reached for Barb’s…

Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang

An alarm klaxon rang through the ship.

14

It was the birdsong she heard first. The rythmic pulsing of a clock echoed the throbbing in her head as her senses were flooded with something hauntingly familiar - the musky ebonic scent that screamed “Woman”.

“Barb, Barb,” the voice was tinged with husky longing. “We have brought you back. You are safe now.”

The intern turned her face towards the sound, lingering a moment longer before savouring the vision. Condi was no longer there. A sudden rush of air swept though the room, causing the creamy lace curtains to billow.

“Condi told me you had blossomed. She hardly did you justice, my dear.”

Barb gasped involuntarily as the twin peaks she had secretly admired for so long hove into view.

“L-Laura,” she gaped.