Infobabe was not above using her good looks. Men
had always looked at her with hunger in their eyes. That
is when she saw their eyes. They were usually looking at her
long legs, tiny waist, and top heavy *** that were busting
out of her tight knit tops with bare midriffs. She dressed
that way on purpose. Well, she liked it when men looked at
her and did nice things for her. She knew she could be an
anchorwoman in front of the camera someday.
The young and luscious Infobabe needed a story. Just
graduated from the Dept. Of Journalism at USC, this was her
first job. Of course she was a feminist and a super achiever.
She planned to lead the life of a glamorous, globe trotting
journalist, find romance, marry the editor, adopt two children
from a third world country, and generally be a femme fatale.
Good looking and willing to work hard, she wanted to make a
lot of money. She had to get a big scoop with her first story.
Maybe win the Pulitzer Prize. It could happen!
Maybe she could do a Pulitzer Prize winning story about
sex on the internet. What about the Hollywood stars that the
President was always inviting to the White House? Some of
them are already on the internet. The President, the White
House and both Houses of Congress have web sites. And, she
had heard about Latoya Jackson's new internet sex service.
Maybe this was her big story. After using a search engine,
she found the home page for Latoya Jackson's Live
Sex Show at http://www.racesimcentral.net/~genen9/showall.html
That was the celebrity Latoya Jackson, sister of Michael
Jackson. This young Infobabe could use a story about the
famous *** star Latoya. She needed an inside angle, and there
was a way. She would get a job with the internet sex service.
She knew a famous feminist used the same tactic to penetrate
Playboy during the '60s. Our foxy Infobabe set up a job
interview, and dressed to impress.
She got a lot of looks and few whistles when she went out
on the street. The cab driver got a great look up her micro-
miniskirt when she slid onto the back seat. She knew he was
looking up her dress in the rear view mirror, but her dress was
too short to do anything about it. So, she just giggled a
little.
At the job interview the receptionist told her to take
off her little jacket and go in to see Mr. Big. It was cool in
the air conditioning and her ***s poked out the front of her
knit top. Mr. Big looked her up and down, and then walked
around her. He told her to sit on the low couch. She did sit,
and did not bother to cover anything. After all, she really
wanted the story and the job.
Mr. Big introduced her to Mr. Censor who came straight
from the White House. Then, Mr. Big informed her that the job
would be stripping in front of a TV camera connected to the
internet. She would be in a booth with a computer keyboard.
People would call into Latoya Jackson's Live Sex Show and
tell our luscious little Infobabe what to do. Then she would
do it. They would see her do it, live and instantaneously on
their computer screens. With so many people watching the pay
was great, the work would be fun, and it did not cost the
internet viewer very much.
She decided to take the job, but first there was a test.
Mr. big wanted to see how she would perform. Would she be
pleasing? Was she ***? Did she look as good *** as she did
half *** on the couch with her g-string panties showing and
her ***s poking out? Would Mr. Censor object to her
performance?
Mr. Censor produced a V-Chip. He told her what it was and
gave her the V-Chip. Somehow the V-Chip was going to stop crime,
gangs, unwed mothers, welfare, ***, and keep our jobs
from going overseas. The V-Chip would save TV and the Internet.
Most of all the V-Chip would make sure the President got reelected.
Well, she liked that big handsome hunk of a President. Better
still, she knew the President liked women. I mean he didn't just
pretend he liked them. He made love to them every chance he got.
She would give him some good copy!
She did not understand all the technical mumbo-jumbo
that Mr. Censor spouted, but she wanted to pass the test. She
wanted to get the job, help the President, and win the Pulitzer.
She did not have any pockets in her skimpy outfit, so she took
the V-Chip and stuck it down the front of her little g-string
panties. Then, she looked up at Mr. Big. She could see that the
lump in the handsome Mr. Big's pants had gotten bigger. Even
Mr. Censor's lump had gotten bigger. She wondered if Mr. Censor
kept V-Chips down the front of his pants too. She wondered just
how far this test would go. How far did she want it to go?
Should she dance first? Rub up against Mr. Big? Or, just start
with a big move and reach up under her micro-miniskirt and
pull her panties down the very first thing? She was losing her
professional perspective. Her panties were getting wet just from
thinking about it. If she did the panties first, her V-Chip
would fall out. What the heck, she thought, the moisture can't
be doing that V-Chip any good.
"Oh, one more thing," Mr. Big said, "that little red
light means the TV camera will be showing your screen test
to thousands of internet men and women. You don't mind do you?"
She could just barely nod her head that it was ok. Her face
flushed, her chest heaved up and down as she breathed hard.
Her ***s got a little larger and her panties got wetter.
This was so much more exciting than she had expected. Now,
she was committed to the story and the job. She just knew
she would be good at it. She could be a great reporter, a
*** star and get invited to the White House!
Her legs trembled a little, as she stretched and ran her
hands involuntarily over her body, from her neck, over her
full ***s lingering over her ***s, and down to the V
between her legs. Infobabe's screen test had begun, and she
wants you to go to the home page of Latoya's Live Sex Show
at http://www.racesimcentral.net/~genen9/showall.html
to watch and tell her what to do. (Pssst...You must be over 18.)
Copywrite Wendy 1996