Sin Bravely
Rachael Ross 1982 - 2012
Chapter 1
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Husband and wife. Brother and sister. Government assassins turned mercenary bodyguards for the world's most beautiful woman, Wolfgang and Eva Brandt star in an action packed adventure filled with sex, romance, and intrigue that critics* have hailed as "...a dirty, sexy, roller-coaster ride for the whole fucking family!"
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Romantic Drunk/Drugged Lesbian Heterosexual Incest Brother Sister Oral Sex Anal Sex Masturbation Petting Violence Prostitution
"No. Uh-uh," I shook my head, gushing happiness and trying not to wince at the continuous strobe of a hundred flashbulbs. "I didn't expect this at all. It's just amazing and I'm having such a good time tonight."
"Thanks Cindy," Tyra said and she was doing post-awards interviews for the Fashion Channel.
"My pleasure," I replied, sharing the obligatory kiss on the cheek for the cameras.
I held up one of my three awards for the cameras, Model of the Year which was the biggest in terms of prestige, and stepped to the side. More photos in front of the MTV Fashion Awards logo while Tyra grabbed Amanda Richardson for her five minutes. I breathed a sigh of relief when Sofia arrived to hold my hand.
"Do I have to lug this thing around all night?" I asked my assistant and the small blonde laughed. That trophy hadn't seemed to weigh anything when they'd given it to me, but now...
"Pretty much," Sofia said. "Come on, Madonna's been waiting to meet you. I think she wants to give you a ride to Johnny Depp's party."
"Fuckin' Madonna," I sighed.
"What?" Sofia glanced at me and I shook my head.
It was a long, slow walk because I had to stop every ten feet to be kissed and congratulated, to pose for a camera and pretend like I was best friends with people I barely knew. That was the job though, as I'd long since learned, and I was working hard.
"Cindy!" Barry Bedis fell into step beside me, or tried to as we made our way through the crowded backstage. He was a reporter for Rolling Stone and a total asshole.
"I'm not talking to you anymore, Barry," I said, smiling and waving at someone else. "You made me very angry."
"What? Baby! Why?" he pouted, trying to look like he was the victim.
"The piece on Mexico? The abortion?" I rolled my eyes. "Mr. Goethe wanted to sue you."
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