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Post by hook on Jul 12, 2010 8:09:29 GMT -5
The afternoon had been long but the views had been stunning. A day's work was rarely hard when surrounded by beautiful women... or should it be really be 'girls'? James had barely seen a face beyond the bad side of twenty in the glittering line-up of beauty contestants catwalking before him that day. It had made him feel old, albeit lucky. There were some upsides to being the face of Hooke Industries after all, and taking the position of a guest judge in a beauty contest was one of them. But the first day was over and James, instead of returning to his suite-style hotel room (all expenses paid), was wandering, somewhat aimlessly, through the backstage area of the show. Most had left now, the contestants and stage-hands alike, so James was alone as he made his way down the white-washed hallways, lighting another cigarette (his fifteenth of the day) and walking with hints of drunken meandering (wine, too, had been provided free of charge but the ever-so generous sponsors).
With a small stumble James turned a corner, his eyes falling upon a door left slightly ajar. He was about to keep going when he noticed the sign that hung upon it with the words "Contestant Dressing Room A" written in a bold and authoritative font. With a tentative hand, he pushed the door open even further and poked his head inside. The room that welcomed him was large and long, lined with dressing tables and mirrors on one side and coat racks heaped with glamourous clothing on the other. The faint aroma of lavender and chamomile seeped into his nostrils, a distinctly feminine fragrance, and before he knew it he had stepped into the room and had closed the door behind him.
Now James was very much a fan of women; perhaps not of their opinions nor of their rights as human beings, but at least of their curves and their absolutely integral role during coitus. The only woman he wasn't really a fan of (excluding his mother, but James didn't want to go all Oedipal by going there) was his wife, who he was now constantly trying to avoid as if his life depended on it. But she wasn't here, nor, did it seem, was anyone else, leaving James to feel very much like a child in a candy store. Walking slowly down the line of dressing tables, he picked and prodded with impish glee at whatever object caught his eye. It was like a treasure trove that revealed to mysteries of femininity. Noticing a half-opened box of tampons, James picked it up and emptied its contents on the dressing table. The things that came out looked like white rockets with tails and, grabbing a pen from the breast pocket of his jacket, he quickly drew a pair of eyes, whiskers, a nose and ears, the end product of which was a rather shoddily crafted white mouse. Silently laughing like a mischievous teenage boy, James popped the pen back into his pocket and placed the makeshift 'mouse' atop a makeup sponge so it looked like it was having a nap.
Leaving the dressing tables be for the moment, James then turned his attention to the coat racks. There, slightly further along, he noticed a whole array of swimwear hung upon their hangers like an invisible line of synchronised swimmers. The swimwear round was by far the one he was most looking forward to, and really wasn't his presence here just early research for when that part of the competition comes around? The majority of the swimwear were two-pieces, much to James' glee, although he did notice a few modest one-pieces dotted in the the collection. He made a mental note to give those girls worse marks on the day. Modesty was a lie in the world of beauty contests, and James would not tolerate liars. No siree!
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Post by TINKA JADE BELMOUNT on Jul 13, 2010 16:39:08 GMT -5
Tinka wasn’t there to mess around. She was there to win. And winning meant doing everything she could to put herself ahead. Making sure her evening wear was slim fitting and low-cut, the perfect fake tan, spending some time chatting charismatically (if not flirtatiously) with the judges, and of course making sure her talent act was as absolutely rehearsed as it could have been. Which was what she had been doing after everyone had flittered off, back to their hotel rooms. She had taken the chance of having the stage to herself to do some run-throughs. It helped to learn the performance space, since you were never really officially allotted a talent rehearsal time in the program. Perhaps just taking it upon herself to rehears gave her an un-fair advantage? Well, really, was it her fault no one else was smart enough to take the opportunity offered?
Their loss was only her gain. And honestly she didn’t even feel the tiniest bit guilty as she had rehearsed over and over until she was sweaty, tired, and rather hungry. In fact it was more so her hunger then anything that had spurred her to stop. She really wanted something to eat. However she could hardly just walk into the hotel’s restaurant all sweaty now could she? It was just, she was sort of lazy, and wasn’t sure she wanted to go all the way up to her room, shower, then come back down. Of course, there were showers in the dressing rooms. However she didn’t have any soup with her. Raising an arm to sniff her under-arms (yes, she really is that classy), Tinka decided that her deodorant was working and she wasn’t so much as smelly as she was sweaty.
So she had made the choice to shower without soap in the showers in the dressing room. When she had gone into the showers, the dressing room was empty. However being one to love long showers, Tinka really should not have assumed they’d still be empty when she came out. Of course it really didn’t cross her mind that anyone would be there. What reason would they have? It had been all perfectly empty before. So without really thinking about it, Tinka had slipped on just a white and red pair of polka-dot panties, and wrapped herself in the rather small towel provided by the hotel. What was it about hotel towels? They only ever just wrapped around you and barely covered your buttocks. And Tinka was small, she could only imagine what a larger person would go through.
As soon as she re-entered the dressing room though, Tinka’s choice not to dress first became a bad idea. There was a man in the room. Enjoying himself as he looked over the swim-suits hanging on the rack. Tinka paused in her steps. Not even sure what to think of the situation just yet. While she was a rather big flirt, she wasn’t sure how she felt about being almost nude with a towel that could fall at any moment in front of just anyone. The longer she stood though, the more she realised he wasn’t just anyone- he was a contest judge. A slight smile tugged on her lips. Perhaps it was a good idea after all. From what she knew, the man was a guest judge in the competition. And really, what sort of man offered himself has a judge in a beauty contest unless he was gay, or had a large appreciation for the female form? This one didn’t look gay, so Tinka was banking on the second.
Taking a step forward, she positioned herself more in his view. Pulling a coy, almost embarrassed smile to her features. “Oh my.” She said softly, as though she had only just walked in. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise anyone was in here.” Now really, she didn’t have much of a plan besides allowing the man to get a bit of a view at her bare skin. Nothing too bad-just to give him a taste. Perhaps flirt a little. However she was also open to just going with the flow and seeing what form this little interaction would take. Anything that would give her an edge over the other contestants was a good thing, really.
T A G ! HOOK!
C O U N T ! 715
N O T E S ! oh tink... you little minx!
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Post by hook on Jul 17, 2010 20:32:06 GMT -5
The possibility of there being rooms further beyond the main dressing room had not occurred to James Hooke. He wasn't really observant when it came to such day-to-day things, despite being furiously meticulous with respect to his model ships or his other obsessions. His thoughts were currently focused upon the swim wear dangling on the hangers in front of him and not at the door creaking open beyond him, not that he had even noticed there was a door. It was not until he heard the soft spoken words of "Oh my" did he turn to see a freshly-showered intruder behind him. In all honesty James knew that he was the actual intruder, but he was always the type never to blame himself for any of his own misdoings. Turning to gaze upon the new arrival, James' eyes landed upon a blonde and towel-clad beauty. He recognised her immediately as one of the contestants (and, of course, he was also in the contestants' dressing room so her identity was, now he thought about it, to be expected), having seen her parading in front of him that day with her fellow competitors. He had recalled giving her quite high marks in the earlier rounds and, now that he saw her in almost all her glory (the towel was rather skimpy), he was affirmed in his original scoring--the girl was a looker!
The blonde pulled a coy and, at least in James' opinion, slightly flirtatious smile. He replied to her smile with his own lopsided grin, hoping that it didn't look too seedy, and attempted to straighten out his still drunkard stance. He leaned against the coat racks for balance and placed a hand upon his hip in what he assumed was his most debonair pose. James had always thought highly of his skills at looking suave and on most occasions he could partially pull it off, even when inebriated; his money and expensive clothes undoubtedly helping the cause a great deal. On this occasion he had himself another plus as he noted the glint of recognition in the blonde's eyes: she obviously knew he was a judge in the contest.
"No need to apologise," James said with a small slur in his speech. The free wine he had been given was strong and it was having far more of an effect on him than he thought it would. "You're a contestant after all and so this is your dressing room, not mine." Taking a step towards her, he took his hand from his waist and held it out towards her. "I'm James Hooke, of Hooke Industries. I'm a guest judge at the pageant." He pulled a toothy smile. "May I ask your name? I imagine its one that's just as pretty as you look."
(Ack, short! Sorry >.<)
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Post by TINKA JADE BELMOUNT on Jul 24, 2010 23:17:44 GMT -5
Of course she knew he was a judge. That was pretty much a given. Considering the fact that Tinka was not exactly in the habit of making flirty eyes at crusty old men under normal situations. If he were just some random, it wouldn’t matter how rich he was or how well he was hung or any other reason he may try on, she just wouldn’t give him the time of day. This, however, was a very special situation. She’d been around this world long enough to know how it worked. It would be nice to think that it functioned completely on the up and up- that there was absolutely no corruption on the pageant circuit, but alas Tinka knew the truth. And in all honesty it suited her just fine, since she was the sort of girl who would do anything to get herself ahead. If the other girls didn’t, well it was more fool them, really.
Daintily holding onto her towel with one hand (because, oh dear if it fell!), she slipped the other into the man’s own extended hand. It was clear to Tinka he was perhaps intoxicated; however she felt pointing that fact out would not aid the interaction. Her only hope was that he wasn’t so inebriated that he wouldn’t remember this the next day. Because that would end up being a colossal waste of her time. Time she could be spending on far more entertaining pass times; like taking full advantage of her expenses paid hotel room. Sure they didn’t put the contestants up in as nice a room as the judges, but it was nice when you reached the higher levels of the competition and you started getting free shit. Tinka was all about enjoying things she didn’t have to pay for. That was half the fun in life- finding as much free stuff as you can.
“I’m Tinka Belmount.” The blonde worked hard to bring a blush to her cheeks. Or at least look flattered by his comment. As though she didn’t already know she was stunning. I mean come on, she was in a beauty contest. Of course she knew she was a looker. Still though, she was very good at playing her part. This guy seemed to be enjoying her demure act. Perhaps he was the sort that liked to feel like he was doing the chasing? Not that it mattered too much, she’d switch it up as soon as she got the idea that his attention was drifting. She was good at giving people what they wanted for the most part. Especially when it meant her getting exactly what she wanted. Like first place in a beauty contest, for example.
Loosening her grip on the towel just a smidge, Tinka let the cloth slip a little from her chest. Exposing the top of her cleavage. She smiled a little as she shook his hand. Pretending she hadn’t noticed her Janet Jackson moment. At last, she looked down at let out a small gasp. “Opps...” Biting her lip, she looked back up at him. Smiling sheepishly. “I should put something a little less...likely to fall straight off on. Hold on..” Before he could say anything, or offer to leave while she changed (which, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t anyway), Tinka turned her back on him and moved to her bag. Letting the towel fall as she stopped. Giving the man a rather lovely view of her half covered in knickers buttocks, and completely bare back. She then angled herself a little, pretending she needed to in order to find her tank-top. Giving the man a pretty little view of some side-breast.
Slipping on the white tank top, she considered just leaving her legs bare. After all, her swim-costume covered a lot less then her current under-wear. However that would have gave him too much all at once. Sneak previews were good. Keep him hooked. So she paired the tank top with a short, tight pair of jean-cut offs and made her way back to the man. Well aware it was obvious that she was not wearing a bra under her tank top (good thing she was young and perky right?). “There, much better..” She said, flashing him a grin.
T A G ! HOOK!
C O U N T ! 710
N O T E S ! BOOBS
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