As they left the studio and walked into the cooler corridor leading to the hospitality area, Ashley smiled inwardly. Things were going better than she’d hoped, with Chanel falling so easily for her bold and direct sexuality. She hadn’t come here with a game plan as such but her aim had been clear; to tease, seduce and humiliate the giggling fool and then take the story to social media. Chanel’s easy insults and arrogant taunts from their Instagram spat still irritated her and she was determined to take her off that perch.
Although her games during the filming of the episode had played out so well, some doubt had crept in about her ability to see it through. She hadn’t expected to feel such attraction herself and the wetness in her shorts was now an imminent reminder of that. Their physical similarities, being of identical height, weight, breast size, almost mirror images of each other when they clinched on the stage, had awoken unexpected feelings in Ashley. Then the touch of silken skin as their thighs pressed against each other, the pressure of their boobs as exposed cleavage firmly kissed…
Ashley’s reaction to her own game had been sudden and almost overwhelming. A moistness began to grow in her loins, her body tingling, butterflies filling her stomach with wonderful and chaotic turbulence. She looked now at the object of that growing desire, trying to steel herself to stay on the course she had decided before these desires had awoken. Much of the anger had evaporated in place of these new feelings but Ashley was stubborn and the hurt from Chanel’s spite still stung. She looked down at their interlocked fingers, still enjoying the contact as she wrestled with her confusion.
They were nearly at the door to the hospitality suite Ashley had been given by MTV. She felt the apprehension and uncertainty return as Chanel turned her head to meet her gaze and smiled, squeezing her hand as she did. Their eyes met, Ashley’s stride almost faltering, her resolve to punish this girl fading more with each moment they were together. She almost stopped right there to let the moment linger but then they were at the door and there was no more time to wonder. Ashley’s resolve solidified as she released Chanel’s hand and opened the door.
She entered first, turning as Chanel entered behind istanbul travesti her. Waiting for the door to be closed and not an instant more, she took Chanel’s hands in her own holding them up palm to palm and interlocking their fingers. Chanel started to speak.
“Shhhhhh…” breathed Ashley seductively as she reduced the gap between them, raising their locked hands up over their heads as she did. Once more their bare and enticing cleavage met softly, the pressure slowly increasing as Ashley advanced. They were nose to nose now and Ashley continued forward, gently pushing Chanel back against the door. Contact became firmer and still Ashley pressed forward until Chanel was squashed firmly between herself and the door.
Her resolve faltered again as the sensations of this new nearness took hold. Once again their exposed tummies pressed together, Chanel arching hers forward to resist Ashley’s push, the soft flesh flattened together as they both felt the play of firmer muscles beneath. Thighs, slightly parted and meeting face to face, a mirror of perfect female form. Breasts now mushroomed together, bare cleavage locked in a silken kiss. Ashley could even feel Chanel’s nipples harden against her own through the cloth of their tight fitting cotton tops, this, more than anything so far, threatening the determination she had mustered to see this through.
She pressed her forehead to Chanel’s, pushing forward with almost painful pressure. Chanel was now trapped between Ashley and the door, nose to nose, forehead to forehead, bodies connected from chest to knee, an almost perfect mirror of each other. Chanel was soft and compliant, awaiting Ashley’s next move, breathing softly, meeting her gaze, clearly enjoying the sensations of their contact.
Ashley breathed through slightly parted lips, her anger at this siren fading with every breath. She could feel Chanel’s heartbeat through their conjoined chests… or, wait, was that her own heartbeat..?
“Which is my pulse?” she mused dreamily, not sure which beating heart was hers.
Chanel moved her head up slightly, pressing their noses more firmly together, almost painfully so. Their slightly parted lips now only millimetres apart, Ashley became aware of the heat between them as their breathing settled into istanbul travestileri a rhythm. She focused on that – she breathes out, I breathe in, I breathe out, she breathes in… she became lost in that sensation.
In… out… in… out…
Through their moist and pouting lips, their breathing had synchronized. Chanel held firm her gaze but the painted lids of her beautiful eyes were heavy, seductive.
In…. out……. in…. out….
The wetness in her loins was now significant, the crotch of her cottons sodden and sticky. She longed to press it against Chanel, harder, harder, grinding away the tension and anticipation she had not expected.
She had moved her head back slightly, releasing the pressure of their foreheads, angling more so their lips were now brushing each other very gently with each breath.
In….. out….. in….. out…..
She was sure the thudding in her chest was her own heart but pressed so hard together were they, did she imagine that they had fallen into unison, beating as one? She had never known such a thing but had never felt sensations like this either. She was trembling, her mind slipping into primal heat and passion… she wanted to press her open mouth to Chanel’s, crush their soft lips together, breathe her in…
She shifted her hips slightly, slid her left thigh forward between Chanel’s. The blond reciprocated immediately, sighing her next breathe into Ashley as the impossibly smooth and soft skin of their inner thighs made contact for the first time.
In….. out…… in…… out……
Their hips moved against each other, the satin kiss of their thighs threatening to overwhelm Ashley’s now faltering mind. Their lips were pressing, not quite firmly, but more insistently with each shared breath. Ashley wanted to scream and focusing for an instant on the eyes of the beautiful girl still trapped between herself and the door, she saw unbridled passion and need reflected there.
Her mind hardened for a moment, unbidden ire rising. The spell broke and Ashley pushed away, breaking their contact completely. She stepped back, her face becoming an inscrutable mask of calm, somehow managing to hide the passion which had threatened to overwhelm her just a moment ago.
“Pathetic,” she travesti istanbul said softly. “I knew you were easy but that was faster than I expected.”
Chanel looked astonished. “What?!… What??!…”
Ashley almost crumbled then and wanted to reach out to her again but her course solidified as she spoke.
“You were such a spiteful bitch. It seemed to come so easily, that spite, those hurtful nasty things. I wanted to teach you a lesson… I wanted to…”
Her voice broke momentarily, a lump in her throat. Had she made a mistake? The torrential wetness in her shorts was a sharp reminder of the passion between them a few moments ago.
“I…” she started but it was too late now.
“Fuck you” Chanel spat, tears clearly welling in her darkly painted eyes.
With that she turned, flung open the door and ran down the corridor out of sight.
Ashley closed her mind and collected her things, not waiting to see or speak to anyone else. She left the building as soon as she could, was straight in the car and speeding home, her mind reeling from the encounter with Chanel and her own apparently illogical behaviour.
Later at home, after a long bath and walk in the garden, Ashley picked up her phone, a slight sense of dread in her belly as she logged onto her social media accounts. She checked messages, timelines, feeds, almost hurriedly also checking those of her erstwhile female adversary.
There was nothing, not a word.
This was a surprise; the vitriolic Chanel had always proven to be quick on the draw with her social media quips and bite-backs. She looked out of the window at the darkening garden and began to muse as her phone vibrated in her hand.
Chanel had posted a selfie. Dressed in a short black bathrobe, sitting on a large bed adorned with charcoal satin sheets, her beautiful and still made up face was streaked with tears.
The caption read “Never trust an actress.”
Ashley looked hard at the face. Is she actually that upset? Suddenly struck by guilt and a sense of loss, she sat heavily down on her own bed.
In another not too distant district of the Los Angeles suburbs, a phone buzzed an alert. Chanel lifted it to see the notifications that were now spamming the device. An outpouring of sympathy from her various followers, some questioning, some giving unsolicited advice, some threatening someone they knew-not-who…. One alert flashed aside from the rest.
“Chanel, its Ashley. Can we talk? Please?”
(To be continued.)