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From: cindylover1969@hotmail.com (Cindylover1969)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 24 Sep 2004 19:50:27 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Because They're Worth It (Laetitia Casta, Virginie Ledoyen, Monica Bellucci, MMF, FF, con, oral, anal, catfight)
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Date: Sat, 25 Sep 2004 11:10:02 -0400
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I'd like to thank Souche Tranin for his help in getting this story
together, and for his comments.

This story isn't meant to be an accurate representation of what these
two French beauties are really like - or indeed French television;
"Tout le monde en parle" is a real show (which Virginie really was
on), but it's actually recorded on Thursdays and shown on Saturdays
rather than airing live as in this story - and it's all entirely
fictional, so cool your jets. (UK readers: Ness is a real person, and
there is a French version of "Top of the Pops.") No one under legal
age in whatever country you're in should be reading this - and those
disclaimers out of the way...

* * * * * * * *

Most good fantasies in the olden days started with "Once upon a time."
With that in mind....

Once upon a time, in the far-off (depending what part of the world
you're from) country of France, there were two stunningly beautiful
young women. One was a model-actress with brownish hair and an awesome
body called Laetitia, the other was a black-haired actress with an
equally impressive form name of Virginie. While they weren't sisters
or related in any way, the two did have their similarities. For
instance:

1. Both advertised L'Oreal, alongside such well-known beauties as
Heather Locklear, Jessica Alba, Beyonce Knowles, Milla Jovovich and
Ben Affleck.
2. Both were not averse to the odd bit of screen nudity.
3. Both hated each other's guts.

Now, this wasn't widely known among the French showbiz establishment,
since neither had wanted their feud to become public. Even the most
determined hacks had never heard a whisper of the curses Laetitia
rained on Virginie in private, or of the amount of spit Virginie had
hurled to the ground every time Laetitia's name was mentioned. Under
those circumstances, it probably wasn't the best idea for someone to
book them both to appear on "Tout le monde en parle." Otherwise, it's
likely that the two wouldn't have ended up in a catfight live on air,
with viewers getting to see Laetitia landing a beauty on Virginie's
face and Miss Ledoyen giving the audience a view of La Casta's tits
through the torn dress... but we're getting ahead of ourselves.

It all started in 2000, when Laetitia had taken her first baby steps
in movies with "Asterix et Obelix contre Cesar," and was looking to do
more than another "Sports Illustrated" video. She had been getting
some offers - when you're a young woman with a fantastic body who has
a casual attitude towards nudity, they tend to come along - but
nothing that had really caught her fancy. Until word had gotten out
that there was a role in a Hollywood movie that would allow her to
work in exotic locations, give her a chance to work with the director
of "Trainspotting," and have her work with Leonardo DiCaprio. That was
what had sold it for Laetitia; even though she didn't like to admit
it, she had adored "Titanic" and had carried a torch for Mr. DiC for a
while. Laetitia didn't want to get her hopes up when she first heard;
there were so many women wanting this role, but she thought she was in
with a chance. Twentieth Century Fox wouldn't be wanting a big name to
draw any of the spotlight away from him, and she was new enough so
there wouldn't be a chance of that. And now there were only two people
in the running; she had to keep herself from breaking the traffic laws
as she drove to the hotel where she, the other lady, Danny Boyle, and
LEO!!!!! would go through the final hurdles.

Laetitia felt like singing as she parked her car and bounded up the
steps to the lobby.

Fifteen minutes later, she ran out of the same doors, her tears and
rage speeding her up as she jumped into her car and peeled away from
the hotel.

Laetitia had tipped the doorman and the hotel receptionist en route to
the lift, and had actually given in to her urge to start singing.
Fortunately, while she wasn't a classically gifted chanteuse she was
hardly down there with Janet Jackson either, and kept the other people
amused through the two minutes it took for the lift to arrive and get
her to the top floor. Of course, her beautiful body helped in the case
of the men.

La Casta kept trilling as she skipped through the corridor towards the
suite where the meeting would take place. It took her about a minute
to get there, though if she had run there it would have taken less.
Finally she got to the room and tapped away, la-la-la'ing to herself
as she waited. After about two minutes, during which she pressed her
ears to the door to try and hear anything that might have been
happening in there, the door opened and Laetitia was greeted with the
sight of a scruffy-looking man about her age, who looked almost
shocked to see her there.

"Good morning," she said, extending her hand. "I'm Laetitia Casta, and
I'm here to discuss 'The Beach' with - "

"You're here early as well?" the SLM interrupted, ignoring her hand.
"The other one got here quickly as well. Can't see what's so great
about Spotty myself, but then I'm not gay..."

Laetitia hadn't realised that there'd be someone else here as well;
but then she figured that they were busy people, they'd probably want
to see as many as possible at the same time. "How many others are
coming?"

"Probably just you and the other lady - they're going through the
scene in there now..." the SLM led Laetitia inside the suite, and the
latter was surprised that no one was in the main room. She had really
thought that they'd be discussing it right there. The SLM read her
mind, and pointed towards a door in the rear. "In there."

"Eccentric moviemakers, eh?" Laetitia thought, and headed to the door,
her scene in her hand even though she had rehearsed it over and over
until she knew the watermarks by heart, never mind the dialogue. She
tapped on the door nervously, and entered on hearing the "Come in!,"
hoping she could make a good first impression on Leonardo DiCaprio and
Danny Boyle.

Laetitia came thisclose to dying on the spot. Not because she saw
Leonardo looking right at her and grinning with glee, but because he
was lying on the bed stark naked with his prick stiff and erect.
However, Laetitia couldn't see it on account of it being inside
Virginie Ledoyen's mouth.

Virginie was no stranger to on-screen nudity, and nor was she any
stranger to sex; she hadn't been averse to sharing her dark-haired
charms with the boys in her school, and had lost any real claim to
living up to her first name one warm summer evening at the age of 16.
And now, here she was with the most famous cock she had had in her
mouth so far... a seething Laetitia watched as the pale, beautiful
young lady gobbled Leonardo's inches while he simply said nothing. His
facial expressions said everything as he felt Virginie slurping away
on him, milking his shaft and balls while she moved between his legs,
shaking her nicely-shaped derriere for the benefit of the director and
anyone else who might have been watching.

Like Leonardo, Laetitia wanted to stick something long and hard up
Virginie's ass; except in her case the something was on the lines of a
bayonet or a poker. Here she was, determined to get the part on her
own merits, and this... this... this WHORE was doing it the easy way!
"CUNT!" Laetitia screamed, and spat on Virginie's ass cleft, before
running out of the room and bidding farewell to any English-language
movies for the time being, and swearing to never see anything with him
in it again. (Though she made an exception for "Catch Me If You Can,"
because Laetitia was a massive Steven Spielberg fan.)

Leo was too busy moaning over Virginie's mouth to notice, but the
director wasn't. "Waste not, want not," he chuckled as he worked the
saliva into Virginie's asshole. Leo was too busy moaning over
Virginie's mouth to notice, but the director wasn't. "Waste not, want
not," he chuckled as he worked the saliva into Virginie's asshole. The
director did not treat Virginie's rear entrance the way he treated his
characters onscreen; he massaged Laetitia's saliva up Miss Ledoyen as
if he was making a flower out of clay, his fingers almost disappearing
up her anus as he rubbed it in. Virginie, knowing and feeling that
Leonardo was about to let her have it, jerked her head back from his
bulging cock just in time for the tip to dump its load on her lips.
She got the full force of his coming, listening to his groans as she
pulled along his shaft, giving his own coming some extra help.

Now it was her turn to scream; the director's cockhead was up against
her bum's entrance, and he wasn't slow to go inside. The man
practically drove Virginie's breath out as he rammed his prick inside,
while a heavy-breathing Leonardo got off the bed and moved out of her
line of vision. Where was he going? To get a drink? A better view...
then she felt the director slapping her backside as he jerked his
prick in and out of her, while his hands rested on her thighs and
moved onto her well-trimmed cunt.

It bothered Virginie a little that Leonardo hadn't gone down on her...
the man was so selfish - and then she jerked upwards in shock, and a
little pain. Leonardo's cock had forced its way past the director's
fingers, and was sliding in and out of her snatch while the director
still pumped her butt, the men's grunts of satisfaction matching their
strokes. Thrusting along with them, Virginie dug her fingers into the
blanket and began shouting both their names as her two future
collaborators fucked both her holes, praying that Leo had put on a
condom and fearing the director hadn't...

She was right on both counts. Both Virginie and Laetitia, by now far
away in the back of a taxi, wept. The former with delight, the latter
with anger.

* * * * * * * * * *

The fact that "The Beach" hadn't been a major hit didn't bother
Virginie; she wasn't into making movies for cash or fame the way some
of her colleagues were. She also, contrary to what she told reporters,
didn't have a problem with the pace of Hollywood or with some of the
scripts she had been offered; she could always divide her time between
France and La-La Land. The real reason she had decided never to come
back to Hollywood was in a conversation at a party.

She was mixing and mingling with the crowd, fielding compliments on
her looks and praying that no one would ask her for the umpteenth time
what it was like working with Leonardo. Didn't these people read
interviews? Or anything?

"...that little lady from the movie?" she overheard a portly gentleman
asking his friend while she was making some small talk, during which
the L-word hadn't come up (he was telling her how nice it was that she
fitted in so well with the English-speaking cast, and wondering why it
was so much harder for ladies from his own country).

"Yeah, nice little number," the porker's equally fat friend replied.

"I don't know why Leo okayed her if she was so bad in bed," said the
first man as he wolfed down some marshmallows and washed them down
with Cointreau. "He's always banging on about how much better Casta
was - she kept him going for hours..."

Virginie could not believe what she'd heard; she pretended she hadn't
heard it, and so did the man she was talking to. So DiCaprio thought
she was a crap lay, and he was going around telling everyone about
it... and he was poking Laetitia Marie Laure Casta as well? She
suddenly wished the scene of him drowning in "Titanic" hadn't just
been special effects, and dragged her mind over to her forthcoming
deal with L'Oreal. They appreciated her, even if Mr. Big Movie Star
didn't.

* * * * * * * * * *

The fact that "The Beach" hadn't been a major hit was of some
consolation to Laetitia, who knew that if she had gotten the role and
it had yielded the same result, Virginie Ledoyen would never have let
her forget it. Laetitia still had her success with "La Bicyclette
Bleue" and other movie offers, and there was the Marianne honour; no
matter how many Mayors said they'd do their own, SHE was the official
model - and a lot of people, especially ones with penises, wouldn't
have had it any other way. (Several of them were displeased with
Evelyn Thomas getting the gig some years later, but that's another
story.)

And then there was the money she was getting from her L'Oreal
contract. Laetitia, sitting there having some breakfast, caught a
glimpse of a woman reading a magazine with one of her adverts on the
back; she let herself smile in satisfaction. It was all the sweeter
knowing that her deal was worth more than Virginie's.

"Spare me a million francs?" asked the woman she had come there to
meet.

Laetitia looked up, and her heart filled with love at the sight of
Monica Bellucci; friend, colleague, and secret lover. Ever since that
time at the Cannes Film Festival, Laetitia and Monica had been
secretly inseparable; Monica was back with her husband, but they were
both well aware of the company the Italian sexpot was keeping. To
their credit, no one involved was ready to blab about it, not even
after their first movie together and the steamy sex scenes the two had
had ("Were you and Laetitia/Monica [delete according to interviewer]
really doing it?" was high on the agenda of all questioners, to which
Laetitia in particular would reply "Of course we were really kissing
and naked together - special effects aren't that good").

Now it would be about time for their next movie - both agreed it would
be best if they didn't work together constantly, say about once every
two or three years. Laetitia was normally delighted to see the woman,
but when she looked at Monica, she could tell something was bothering
her. "Monica?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

Monica proferred her a copy of an Italian magazine. Laetitia's nose
wrinkled; she had no time for Italian gossip rags, with their
long-range lenses and ill-founded speculation. "What are they saying
about me now?" she asked.

"It's not you. It's us," Monica replied as the model riffled through
the magazine. "Dropping hints - what young model is secretly seeing
which big-breasted actress?"

"Italy is full of big-breasted women," Laetitia pointed out. "Some of
them like other women."

"True, but someone's going to come to the right conclusion," Monica
replied. "They said that the two were seen coming out of a restaurant
in Tivoli laughing and looking as if they were more than friends..."

Although Laetitia had long since digested what she had eaten in
Tivoli, the memory made her stomach bubble. "Ledoyen," she said
coldly.

"Casta," Virginie said equally coldly.

She had been signed to L'Oreal in the wake of "The Beach," and had
hardly done badly for herself from the deal; but she had just been
watching some TV, and seen Laetitia pouting her way through another
commercial. Another commercial for which Laetitia was making more
money than she was. How DARE that... that... that THING pull down more
than she did? Virginie snapped off the set angrily, fuming at how even
the slightest things could ruin her day. She didn't drink, so having
some booze was out; she doted on her child, but she couldn't just pull
her out of school. But there was something else that she liked to do
that helped cheer her up.

Soon Virginie was taking a walk down the street, keeping an eye out
for admiring and occasionally startled glances. She was wearing a
light shirt through which it was clear that she wasn't wearing a bra,
and a happy little skirt that showed off practically all of her legs.
And, when the wind was cooperative, a good deal more - as Bart Simpson
had said once, nothing like an unfurnished basement...

* * * * * * * * * *

Laetitia Casta agreed with Virginie Ledoyen on that point, if not much
else. No underwear made it a lot easier and faster for Monica Bellucci
to get to the goods underneath her dress. She relished feeling
Monica's hands sliding up her thighs under the fabric, the dark
Italian moving slowly so both of them could enjoy the feeling. With
Monica's hands resting on her buttocks, Laetitia gently kissed her
lover. Too bad Monica was shooting that day; Laetitia could feel the
lingerie she was wearing underneath. Still, it meant she got to take
them off later...

As Monica moved her left hand to Laetitia's crotch, Virginie tipped
over to get a coin that she had dropped. She listened out for any
reaction - YES! She heard the shocked gasp of someone who had passed
by at that moment, and seen her pale and very interesting asscheeks.
Virginie smiled to herself as she got up - she knew that there was
someone else who'd be using that image for a midnight wank. And she
wouldn't have it any other way.

The day had a cool breeze to it that acted on her breasts just the way
she wanted; Virginie was tempted
to say "Enjoy the view, fellas!" But that would have been going too
far...

The "DO NOT DISTURB" sign was up outside the trailer, and everybody
knew what that meant - many were the crew members who wanted to peek
inside to see if the rumours were true, but none were the crew members
who wanted to get fired. Had they peeked, they would have seen
Laetitia Casta standing there gasping and stroking Monica Bellucci's
head as the latter kissed and licked the former's plump pussy; Monica
had feasted on other women before, but none of them had come close to
making her feel the way Laetitia did. Taking in the smell of her
French beloved's muff, Monica thrust her tongue inside deeper while
stroking her sweet, perfect ass.

"Ohhhh... no one touches me like you..." Laetitia murmured, adding a
sigh as one of Monica's long middle fingers slid into her butt,
working its way up and down. If only Monica had brought their toys -
but she'd have to work over Laetitia's bum another time. It was enough
for Monica's tongue to roll the
Frenchwoman's clit around while exploring her cunt; enough for
Laetitia to clench her fists while waiting for the moment when it
would be her turn to lavish Monica's pussy and asshole with HER mouth.
"Mmmmmm..." she groaned, forcing herself to keep her happiness inside,
but tempted to scream out her feelings and to hell if anyone was
listening...

Virginie had entered the Metro for a train ride, happily acknowledging
herself to the man who sold her her ticket, and betting that he had
looked at what she had to offer. Flouncing onto the crowded train, she
didn't even mind how hot it was as it took off - she would only be on
it for about three or four stops.

Holding on tightly, she looked around at all the busy city people
reading their papers, listening to private music, or doing whatever it
took to kill time while stuck in this tin can with wheels. Virginie
craned forward to have a look at the paper the woman next to her was
reading - anything to kill time while she was here...

What the hell?!? She felt a hand on her butt. And not an accidental
grope either - it was very deliberate.
Someone was feeling her up, right there in the crowd. And whoever it
was was taking his own cool time about it; stroking Virginie's
unprotected buttocks as if they were his own. Just as she had hoped.

Virginie was tempted to take the guy's hand and guide it to the furry
area between her legs, but if she touched him he might pull away. Best
to let him take the hand where he wanted it to go... there it was.
Sensuously circling her butt again, not daring enough to try and go
under the dress (no one was that cheeky), but just having a feel. And
there he was again - she gently took his hand and this time, moved it
forward.

She wished she could see the look on his face when he felt what was
there. "Go on," she said low enough for him to hear. "It's okay."

The hand pulled back quickly. Virginie almost laughed - they were
scared off by that most of the time...

While Virginie was being felt up on the train, Monica was being felt
up in the trailer - lying on the sofa, stretched out and with her
dress hiked up, Laetitia gently caressed her long limbs, languidly
kissing each part after she touched it, moving down to her feet.
Nothing like a good foot-job to get you ready for the afternoon,
Monica thought as she felt Laetitia kissing each of her toes - but not
as passionately as she usually did.

"What's wrong?" Monica asked gently. "You're not as happy as you
usually are..."

"It's not you," Laetitia muttered, still holding the feet. "It's
fucking Ledoyen. I can't get her out of my mind... I just wish I could
get my hands on her."

"And kiss HER legs?"

"Break her legs, more like."

Monica pulled her legs back. The plan to let Laetitia use her body to
forget about Virginie hadn't worked; and now Monica would have to go
through the afternoon with her lust unquenched, so Virginie Ledoyen
had pissed off two women for the price of one. "When you get over the
little minx, call me again," Monica told the French woman regretfully.

"That might never happen," Laetitia replied bitterly. She'd miss
Monica in return.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Morning, this is Virginie Ledoyen. I just got back from 'Rue des
Plaisirs' and I just wanted to thank you for giving me the biggest
laughs I've had in years what with the singing and the being shot dead
in the last scene..."

"Hi, Laetitia Casta here. The Jehovah's Witnesses will be over at your
place in the next half hour."

"Virginie here. Hope the visit to the plastic surgeon went okay."

"It's Laetitia Casta. Loved your last movie - don't think Ligue
Fran�aise des Droits de l'Animal would like what you did with the
horses and the German Shepherds though. Still, they looked like they
were having fun..."

"I couldn't believe that thing you were wearing. Part of your chest
wasn't visible. You're slipping, Laetitia..."

"Did that interviewer's face wrinkle when you were talking to him?
Must have been Jean-Marie Le Pen's cock on your breath..."

And so on, and so on, and so on. The abusive messages just kept
building up on each other's answering machines.

Until Virginie had Laetitia's car filled with sewage. And Laetitia had
a load of cement dumped all over Virginie's.

The bill to get the cement out of Virginie's car and restore the thing
to perfect working order looked like a phone number; Laetitia had to
pay less to get her car cleaned, but the smell lingered enough that
she had to finally get a new one. As for the old one, she wrote it off
quickly and easily by driving it into the Seine one night. Neither had
been happy.

And then Virginie had opened the newspaper, and seen what some
brainless tabloid writer had said. All about how she had been seen in
a back alley with some very grateful would-be stud... she crumpled
that paper up super-fast. "Okay, Casta... you want something to get me
in the papers, I'll give you something to get me in the papers."

One good thing about both women working with L'Oreal, they both had
their own contacts. And Virginie knew just what she wanted Natalie to
find out.

* * * * * * * * * *

"His name's Felix," the strawberry blonde had told her. "He's been
close to Laetitia for years, ever since she started out."

"Has he ever tried it on with her?"

"Oh good gracious no! She sees him as a trusted friend. Not the kind
of person who wants to jump into bed with her or stab her in the back
or something..."

Felix had certainly never hit on Laetitia; he had let the thought go
through his mind from time to time, but he was essentially the kind of
guy who in a TV show would be the heterosexual heroine's homosexual
best friend. That is, if he was homosexual.

Which, as he was busily stuffing his cock down Virginie Ledoyen's
throat, was unlikely. Virginie and Felix were in the latter's garden,
hidden away from everybody but still in the great outdoors; the air
blowing over their naked bodies made Virginie's own blowing even
better. She half wished that someone could see her swallowing the
man's prick; he was uncut, dammit, but apart from that it wasn't bad,
she thought as she moved her head off it. "Better than LC ever was,
right?" she asked him, smiling as she licked the tip of his stiff
cock.

"I never got the chance to find out," Felix admitted.

"Don't blame you," Virginie cooed. "Those teeth..."

* * * * * * * * * *

Virginie had more acceptable choppers than Laetitia, but Laetitia knew
where she made up for it. She also knew how to get her where it hurt;
not by going after one of her male friends. Too easy.

But getting her BROTHER into bed... Laetitia laughed with delight as
Michael squeezed her famous boobs and kissed the valley between them.
"Like that?" the young man murmured, his tongue eagerly licking her
soft body and his prick on the verge of spurting all over the bed. It
had been so easy as well - Laetitia had gambled that he'd be so
excited to get a message from her that his crotch would overrule his
brain. Boys... so easy.

Laetitia felt his mouth travelling down towards the beautiful jungle
between her legs. She owed Natalie a lot for letting her know where
she could find Michael... oh fuck, there it was. She cried out in joy
as the lad's tongue thrust into her open cunt, scrolling open inside
and searching out all her hotspots. Nothing like a spot of head from
an eager boy to get the day to a good start, especially when the boy's
smooth hands were stroking her as his tongue tasted her box.

Flicking around and feeling kisses on her pussylips, Laetitia Casta
rolled around on the bed in delight; his tongue set off sparks
wherever it touched her, and his hands were squeezing and stroking
wherever they landed. Laetitia fondled his curly head as it bobbed
between her legs; "Yes, that's right, eat it all up..." she murmured,
lolling her head back on the pillow. She didn't want him to stop, and
she could tell he didn't want to stop; she started playing with her
breasts in excitement as he probed further inside.
Then she took his hands and placed them on said boobs, and shivered in
happiness as he made like Doc Ock on a first date.

Her soaking snatch was making his mouth hungry for more; steaming and
ready for his prick, the boy climbed up Laetitia. As the happy young
lad closed his mouth on hers, feeling her breath and the taste of her
cunt blending in his mouth, she touched his rock-hard prick. Good boy
- he even had his condom on properly. Eager AND considerate... he had
to be adopted. He couldn't be Virginie's brother - he was too smart
for that. "I love you, Laetitia..." he mumbled into the nape of her
neck as he thrust his cock into a woman for the first time.

She hoped it was worth it for him, because it was for her.

* * * * * * * * * *

Laetitia never found out about Felix, because unlike Virginie's
brother, Felix never kept a diary, which was never discovered by a
nosy relative, who never saw the salient bits, who never let them slip
to Virginie. Who hit the roof. She would normally have been too
embarrassed to talk about sex with her brother, but this was a crisis.

"What in the name of everything holy were you THINKING of?!" she
yelled at Michael. "Oh wait... don't answer that..."

Her brother didn't say anything, just looked at her placidly. While
Virginie raved on and on about how he knew how she felt about that
Corsican hussy, inwardly he was reliving how it felt to empty his come
into Laetitia Casta. And he knew he'd do it again if he had the
chance.

"...just STAY AWAY FROM HER, all right? God, why couldn't you go and
visit a prostitute like normal people?!" Her speech delivered, she
stormed out of her brother's flat, trying to turn her mind back to
work-related stuff - like having to get back in touch with the people
from "Tout le monde en parle" about her sacrificing her Saturday night
to appear on that endless gabfest. She had less than fond memories of
the last time she had been on the show - all those really private
questions had not gone down well at all, and she had let the producers
know about it afterwards. (Okay, she had answered them, but...)

"So we are all sure about this?" Virginie told the network
representative. "Absolutely no questions about my sex life?"

"Absolutely," the man replied. "I'm sure we can ask someone else those
questions. Like someone from `Loft Story' for instance. Or Amanda
Lear. Or Laetitia - "

"If she's on that show, I won't be there."

"Oh no no no no no... she's not scheduled at all. In fact, our people
said that she won't be there if you're there."

"Oh, well in that case..."

* * * * * * * * * *

Laetitia had only just finished getting rid of a salesman who had been
pestering her for hours (sent at the behest of Virginie, no doubt),
and she wasn't in the mood for talking to anybody. So when the phone
rang as soon as she shut the door, it took all her acting talent to
make it sound as if she was happy to hear the voice of the man from
France 2.

"Yes, hello... Ah yes, `Tout le monde en parle'... I just have one
question; who else will be on it?... Oh good. If you had said Virginie
Ledoyen, I would have had to cancel... Oh, she's scheduled for the
following week? A lucky escape for me then... Okay, I'll be there bright
and early. Bye."

The man hung up, hoping that he wouldn't get into trouble for what had
happened. But then, as Natalie had assured him the night before, he
could always say it was a scheduling mixup - "These things happen from
time to time," she had told him. "Someone could have changed the
bookings and forgotten to let you know until it was too late."

"But..."

"Sh," Natalie had said, holding up the olive oil. "Now do you want
this, or don't you?"

He had wanted it. He had felt Natalie pour the oil all over him as the
night got underway, and she had felt immense satisfaction at how she
had gotten the two enemies to appear on TV together. It still wouldn't
get her the deals she thought she deserved - she knew she was just as
pretty as those two. Prettier, even. And she could act rings around
both of them.

After all, both Laetitia and Virginie thought that Natalie was a
friend.

* * * * * * * * *

Natalie usually liked going out on Saturday nights, but tonight was
different. She had her dinner in front of her, the TV was set to
France 2, Thierry Ardisson and the rest were all in place, and she was
chortling away as the two hour-plus roundtable started. Swigging back
some cream soda, she mentally willed them to hurry up and introduce
the guests.

They were the usual mixture of types - there was a distinguished
writer, two different singers, a woman who was a freak for plastic
surgery, a 12-year-old prodigy... "Yeah, yeah," Natalie snapped through
her food, "get to the good stuff."

"...and she's going to be seen soon in `Saint-Ange'; she is, of course,
the lovely Virginie Ledoyen!" M. Ardisson finished, as Virginie smiled
and acknowledged the audience applause, and the glances the writer and
the female singer gave her. There was still one more chair to be
filled in; she just hoped that the producers hadn't gotten someone
like that idiot Ness - every time she tried to watch "Top of the Pops"
that stupid bimbo ruined it. As if the music wasn't bad enough.

"And finally, a real treat for our male viewers tonight, as if
Virginie wasn't enough..."

Virginie wondered who it would be; she was looking forward to cutting
some airhead down to size, especially if said airhead was American or
British. Still, you never could tell - some of these women weren't as
dumb as they looked. She fixed her gaze on the woman coming towards
her as the 12-year-old prodigy muttered "Not another model..,"

"Shush," Virginie told him. "There's nothing wrong with models..."

"Please welcome Laetitia Casta!" Thierry finished, and Laetitia's own
smile vanished when her eyes wandered from the only available seat to
the woman sitting next to it - at the same time as Virginie's
welcoming smile snapped off.

"YOU!!!!" the two beauties snarled as one; until this moment, it
hadn't been public knowledge that there was bad blood between the two,
so no one had expected to see Laetitia actually spring towards
Virginie with her hands out like claws, crash into the actress with
her hands around her neck, and send her to the floor while howling
curses and spitting at her. The guests and the host looked on in
disoriented shock, unsure whether to rush in and try to pull the two
fighting women apart or to just sit back and wait until the fighting
was over.

"SECURITY!!!" Thierry yelled as the cameras got in closer, rewarded
for their devotion to duty by the sight of Virginie energetically
tugging Laetitia's hair while the model clutched her top and tore
strips off it, each one yelling at the other.

"SLUT!"
"TRAMP!"
"WHORE!"
"WITCH!"
"SHITHEAD!"
"HELLSPAWN!"
"YOU FUCKED YOUR WAY INTO THAT MOVIE!"
"YOU DID THAT FOR EVERYTHING, CASTA!!!"
"WHAT?!? I'LL KILL YOU RIGHT HERE YOU LITTLE FUCK!" And Laetitia
followed that up by actually headbutting Virginie, who scratched at
Laetitia's dress, tearing the very expensive item as the two women
scrambled upwards, punching and jabbing each other. Unaware that the
audience in the studio and at home could see her generous left breast,
Laetitia dragged Virginie onto the table and began throttling her,
forcing her knee into her crotch as she bellowed "I HAD TO WRITE OFF
MY CAR BECAUSE OF YOU, LEDOYEN!"

"SERVES YOU RIGHT FOR WHAT YOU DID TO MY BROTHER, YOU... YOU
BRITISH-TEETHED COW!!!" Virginie spat back, landing a blow to
Laetitia's stomach as the security officers ran into the studio, but
not before Laetitia ripped open Virginie's top and gave her nipples a
very hard wrench. "AAAIIIIEEEE!!!!!" the brunette screamed, and
grabbed hold of Laetitia's funbags, returning the favour. Laetitia
tried to pull the hands off, but Virginie had a very tight hold,
grinning through the blood seeping from her nose.

Laetitia smacked Virginie hard across the face and stamped down on her
foot. "OWW!!" the actress howled as Laetitia swivelled her over and
ripped her panties off, baring her pale behind to the crowd. "Someone
should have done this to you a LONG time ago, you spoilt little
madam," she growled, and whirled her hand down, cracking it on
Virginie's bum as she held the angry actress down. "CALL YOURSELF A
MARIANNE?! No wonder they got that ugly cunt Evelyn Thomas instead!"
Virginie yelled between Laetitia's very hard, very fast, very powerful
and very enthusiastic smacks. La Casta managed to land around ten
before the security guards dragged her off, and Virginie - whose first
response on feeling the weight being dragged off was to leap at
Laetitia and try to bite her boobs - got in a few more blows in spite
of the security guards dragging HER off...

The two women were taken off through opposing sides of the studio,
each yelling at the other. It would be a while before the show could
calm down and continue, and it would be a lot longer before the two
women could; and in her small Parisian flat, Natalie hooted in delight
as she recorded it all. No way would she let this tape be wiped out by
M6 shows, that was for sure. She would probably be a secretary for the
rest of her life, but the amount of egg those two had on their faces
for this little escapade would be worth it.

"What was she doing there?!?" Laetitia yelled in the safety of her
dressing room, changing her ruined clothes. "The man I talked to swore
that she was going to be on next week's show!"

"What was his name?" asked the producer, flustered as much by the
sight of Laetitia's exposed flesh as by the preceding fracas and all
the phone calls that were crashing France 2's systems.

"I don't know... Roger somebody..."

"Roger Karminski?"

"Yes, that's the one," a bruised Virginie replied when she told the
producer's assistant who had told her that Laetitia wasn't going to be
there. "He should be sued. Or fired."

"He probably will be," said the PA. 

"Sued or fired?"

* * * * * * * * * *

On being called on the carpet, a horrified Roger had blurted that he
hadn't figured it would go that far, and had admitted that he had been
bribed to do so by a very friendly woman who worked as a secretary at
L'Oreal's Paris office. Virginie and Laetitia soon had their turns to
be horrified on finding out who the secretary was.

* * * * * * * * * *

The following week, Natalie Dussolier arrived at L'Oreal's head office
bright and early, chipper as a chipmunk, ready to do her boss's
bidding. Everyone else behaved as if it was a Monday; for her, it was
like Friday afternoon, even though it was Wednesday. She had seen the
papers, and was looking forward to the press release about how the
cosmetics giant would soon be two spokesmodels less. Natalie sang
cheerfully as she sat down at her desk, ignoring the people around
her.

"Morning, everyone!" she said, setting about her duties. No one said a
word; they were all eyeing her with dread, as if someone in her family
had died and she hadn't been told.

"What's going on? Did the USA beat us or something?"

"He wants to see you," said the man who worked next to her.

"Who's he?"

The man told her. Natalie staggered to the lift, all the blood drained
out of her face in horrified anticipation. She hadn't been called up
by her boss, she had been called up by THE boss. And she had seen what
was featured in "Oh La!", "Voici," "VSD" and all the rest of the
celebrity magazines (even some English-language ones) - Laetitia and
Virginie's little dispute. She hadn't heard from Roger, but she had
thought it was due to his deciding to lay low for a while... not
because of something like this. The coward. Natalie entered the
chairman's office, no longer feeling like it was Friday afternoon.

He was accompanied by Laetitia Casta and Virginie Ledoyen. Now Natalie
felt like she was Laetitia as the title character in "Luisa Sanfelice"
- who was executed...

Natalie confessed everything; she admitted she had been jealous as
hell, she had only done it because she wanted them to be embarrassed,
and she begged them not to fire her because she really needed the job
- she even brought out the tears.

It sort of worked. The company had received a lot of publicity, not
exactly good; the women had been made to look stupid; and France 2 was
furious. But pictures of Laetitia's tits from the fight were
circulating online, and a lot of press interest was coming along...
and after all, any publicity was better than no publicity. Natalie
stayed on board as a secretary. And personal assistant to the two
celebrities.

Permanently. Without additional pay.

* * * * * * * * * 

Virginie couldn't believe what she was doing a week later; knocking on
a strange door, a rolled-up magazine with the appropriate item
highlighted. This was something she had never, ever done before - she
looked around to make sure no one could see her.

"Yes?" asked the woman who opened the door.

"Is this true?" Virginie asked, holding up the magazine.

"Yes," said Laetitia. "It's true."

"It" was a copy of that week's edition of "Elle," including an
interview with Laetitia - an exclusive interview (exclusive in the
not-available-anywhere-else sense of the word, not in the UK tabloid
sense of the word). In it, Laetitia had been asked about that fight
she had, and what the movie was that Virginie had bedded her way into;
and then she had talked about Leonardo...

"I heard some of the stories people said about me and him - that he
was seeing me even after Virginie got the role... but it was nothing.
Just a lie. A boy bragging about his sex life to impress other boys. I
never saw him again after that day, and I'm glad I didn't. I do feel a
little sorry for Virginie, however... having to go through all that
and not even enjoying the experience."

Virginie faced Laetitia, still holding the magazine. "You never slept
with him?"

"Never. He's not my type," Laetitia said with a little smile.

Virginie playfully swatted Laetitia with the magazine. "You mean we
went through all this for nothing?!"

"I wouldn't say nothing - we got more famous out of it. And we got
that liar Natalie off our backs."

"Oh yeah, Natalie. How IS she?"

"I've got her doing errands for a friend of mine."

* * * * * * * * * *

Laetitia quivered in delight as Monica delicately had the string of
balls work its way out of her asshole, twirling them as she pulled.
Monica was overjoyed that this whole thing was over and they could get
back to their sort-of secret affair; the moment she had shown up at
her location apartment, the expression on her face told her that
Laetitia Casta was finally over the little minx. And when she had made
her little request, Monica was even happier - she was usually a
one-woman woman, but under the right circumstances...

"Aaah ... aaahhh... AAAAAHHHHYESSSS!!!!" she cried as she watched
enviously; the envy coming from seeing Virginie slurping on Monica's
massive tits. Yeah, of course this was her first time with a woman...

"I'll say this for you, Casta," Virginie groaned as she felt Monica
start to push the balls into her, "you know a good one when you see
her!"

"Don't talk..." Monica urged as she held Virginie close. "Just fuck."
Virginie gripped Monica ever tighter; she was glad they had patched
things up at last, if this was one of the benefits. Of course, her
parents couldn't actually know she was sleeping with an Italian, but
it wasn't like anyone would say anything. Even Natalie had thought
that the sex toys she had bought for them were for Monica and her
husband ("Monica's a friend of mine, and she can't be seen going into
places like that," Laetitia had told her. "And you know what'll happen
if you go and tell anyone...").

Dazed from how she had been made to feel, Laetitia crawled over to
Virginie, being held firmly in Monica's arms, and did what she never
thought she'd ever find herself doing - rubbing Virginie's ass in
circles, she thrust her tongue into her snatch and began to eat,
knowing that soon it would be Monica's turn to get it from the two of
them, and then it would be her turn. But for the moment, she eagerly
flicked around between Virginie's legs while groping the milky white
flesh - she was beautiful down below, all shaven and tight. Laetitia
spread the lady's box apart to get a better look, smiled blissfully
and licked further inside as Miss Ledoyen enjoyed Monica's flesh,
half-wondering if there was any chance she could get to work with her
in the future and shaking against her lovers as she felt the string of
little balls moving up inside her. With Monica's lips around her
nipples, Virginie started to slap the Italian's big round bottom as
fiercely as Laetitia had slapped hers.

"Not the first time," Monica said, grabbing Virginie's hands and
pulling them off. "You have to wait, just like Laetitia did."

"Spoilsport," Virginie laughed, settling for holding Monica's cheeks
as she felt Laetitia's hands moving up her body. No way she could feel
any better than she did now...

* * * * * * * * * *

There was no way she could feel any better than she did now. "YES YES
YES!!!!" Virginie yelled a week later as her partner Louis thrust away
between her legs, coring deep inside her and pinning her down as if
she was trying to escape. "OH YES LOUIS MAKE ME COME NOW!!!"

Louis was afraid that he was the one who was going to come now. Not
least since Laetitia Casta was in front of him buck naked. And happily
straddling his partner's face while he pumped her; he watched Laetitia
lower herself onto the ecstatic Virginie, his eyes darting back and
forth between Virginie's fantastic little breasts and Laetitia's
lovely bottom sitting tantalizingly near them. He slammed himself
harder into his partner, telling himself he wouldn't try and take
Laetitia up her rear entrance afterwards... he wouldn't... he
wouldn't...

Laetitia patted Virginie's wild hair as she watched the woman slip her
tongue into her box, breath rushing out of her nose in quick little
gasps as she felt Louis's prick shooting into her. Laetitia's own
gasps were building as Virginie's tongue searched through her cunt,
wanting to give her the best head she had had in ages; just to make up
for everything. Her grunts became more urgent as she enjoyed the
snatch, and Laetitia knew that Virginie was about to give in to Louis;
"Mmmmm...uuuhhhhh....oooohhhhshitttt.... mmmMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!" Virginie
clutched Laetitia's ass and shoved her face deep between her legs,
shaking as she felt Louis's cockhead explode inside her, and letting
Laetitia feel a bit of herself coming. Her breath rushed out over her
lover's box, and the two people on top of her shook with her as
Virginie felt the heat coursing through her body.

Virginie slid her hands around and up Laetitia's body as she felt
Louis's spent prick moving out. He might have been finished for the
moment, but as she raised herself and kissed her former enemy, she had
only just begun...

Most good fantasies in the olden days ended with "And so they got
married and lived happily ever after." Virginie was already married
and Laetitia was also attached, so let's say they got pleasured
instead. Repeatedly. And apart from a few slip-ups, like that one time
after the Sept d'Or Awards (when Laetitia and Virginie spotted their
partners with... but that's another story), they lived happily ever
after.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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