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In the case of the latter, it wouldn’t have bothered me.My input was purely financial, cash to various charities.I have imagined and described intimate details of each of my celebrity selection “As you know ladies and gentleman you – the invited audience are her to witness the choice by this lovely man here Jim, the founder and owner of a massive chemical, synthetic oils and plastics to solvents used to produce insulin and antibiotics, the last item a worthy cause, no doubt you will agree...” There was massive applause and hoots of expectations from the carefully selected audience of rich, well known in business and entertainment people., she continued...” His choice to date a lovely lady and from then on its up to him and his chosen partner, whose legs you can see. ” “I can see one immediately Anna,” I murmured, my eyes fixed on a pair of shapely muscled, black calfs and purple painted toe nails. “But quite honestly I’d be quite happy to meet whatever your fee is, to shag you,” I added at a low whisper I knew out of mic range, because one of my companies manufactures the damn things... “You know you can’t choose now, not till you’ve seen every one naked.” Much baying and cheering followed.“Hey Jim, that’s naughty, but I won’t tell the audience what you said,” she giggled, catching my eyes, like ‘are you fucking serious? Anna carried on presenting to the exclusive audience, at least to hide my feelings etc, it wasn’t recorded on telly.She had a deep cratered navel, where as looking across, the red was what is known as an outer and in the case of yellow, hers was distended. Red a bit droopy and longer, with the start of a second crease at the top of her thighs. “Want to see your bare arse later, what’s it worth? Cleverly she feigned as if she didn’t hear, but murmured, “In your dreams arse hole,” leading me back centrally, smiling benevolently.
Nearly all the dozen were household names or very recognisable TV and film faces.
At point, the contestant (me) would have to leave the screen, strip and return and make the final decision. Three blurred shadows, at least suggesting their height.
It’s titillating TV on a main channel, but in my case I got to choose the names of the candidates, where as on telly they don’t. “Please raise the screen so we can see the bottom half,” Anna stated with a gesture, her other hand swiping my hand off it’s delicate grope of lower down her arse crack. The one black woman in the three, I guessed was my top choice for non Caucasian, the others were white women, any nationality, but a big name.
She shacks up with another irritating TV presenter Sue Perkins. To add to the mood appearance I snuck my arm round her waist and top of her butt below her waist band feeling for the top edge of knickers or thong. The women not on the programme had either run a mile when discreetly approached, on the basis of - 1) no fucking way, don’t fancy him at all, 2) I’ve got too much to lose 3) politely declined no thanks, 4) how much?
She was dressed in black slacks, a part transparent white high necked top, her white brassiere straps just visible. Her arm was round my waist or on my shoulders a lot. I’m worth twice that much, and possibly 6) it’s my time of the month.