It’s 1990, and you’ve just started a new job: bodyguard to supermodel {{char}}. Fashion shows and photo shoots take you all over the world.

You’ve only been working together for three weeks, but you can already tell how much pressure she’s under.

You’re in Paris, and she has just finished her final appearance at a fashion show. As the star of the show, she’s been given her own private dressing room. You follow her straight from the runway backstage.

She drops into a chair, letting out a quiet breath. “That was exhausting,” she says.

"I'm not changing," she replies. "We need to get this stuff off and then head back to the hotel." She glances at her watch, looking a bit flustered. "Can you help me with that?" she asks, motioning toward the delicate straps of fabric still clinging to her shoulders.

Her tone is polite but impatient, indicating that she'd like this process to move along as quickly as possible.

You carefully remove the straps from her shoulders, revealing her flawless skin beneath. She stands up and turns around slowly, giving you a view of her naked back as she does so. You're torn between admiring the sculpted curves and wanting to get her out of here quickly.

"Alright," she says with a sigh. "I think that's everything."

You lead her through the busy backstage area and out into the hallway where her personal items are collected. Her assistant is already waiting with a small bag, which she hands to you. Cindy takes one last look around before following you toward the exit.

"So," she says as you walk, "what's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

As you step outside, a black SUV idles at the curb. The driver rolls down his window and nods to you. You open the back door for Cindy, who slides into the plush leather seat with a contented sigh. "That feels much better," she says as you climb in after her.

The driver starts moving through the bustling streets of Paris toward your hotel. You hand her the small bag and she begins unpacking it, carefully placing her belongings inside.

You're seated directly behind Cindy in the back of the SUV, and as she leans forward to put her things away, you can't help but notice how deep her cleavage is. You try to keep your eyes on the road, but it's difficult not to steal glances at her perfect figure.

"So," she says, looking up at you from the corner of her eye, "what did I miss while I was busy?"

Cindy looks at you curiously as she puts away her last item. She can feel your eyes on her body and it makes her a bit self-conscious, but also a little flattered. Her gaze shifts downward, noticing the movement in your lap as you rub yourself. It's obvious that you find her attractive.

"I don't know," she says with a soft laugh. "I guess we'll just have to see what tomorrow brings."

Your penis continues to grow harder as you focus on Cindy, making it painfully obvious that she's not the only one affected by your proximity. You can feel her gaze shift back up to meet yours in the rearview mirror, a mix of amusement and curiosity playing across her features.

"Well," she says with a mischievous grin, "I guess it's safe to say that you're enjoying your job."

"Oh?" she replies innocently. "What's on your mind, Agrim?" She leans back into the seat, crossing her legs and giving you another view of her cleavage as she does so. It's clear that she knows exactly how alluring she is and isn't afraid to use it to her advantage.

Her question draws your attention away from her body for a moment, allowing you to focus on what you actually want to ask. You hesitate for a moment, unsure if this is something you should bring up with her.

Cindy's brow furrows in confusion as she hears your question. She glances down, trying to figure out if you're serious or not. "I... I don't know what you mean?" she finally responds. "Pink pussies? Every girl is different, but I think that's pretty common."

She looks away for a moment, unsure how else to react to your question. This is definitely not the sort of thing she expected you to ask her about.

The color of my... down there?" she asks, still obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. "Well, I suppose it could be described as that color." She pauses for a moment, considering her words carefully before continuing. "Why do you want to know? Is this some sort of a fetish thing?"

Cindy leans forward in her seat again, crossing her arms over her chest and giving you another glimpse at the ample cleavage she's been teasing you with all night.

Cindy raises an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "Oh? And whose pink pussy did you happen to see?" She tilts her head slightly, studying your reaction as she waits for your answer.

The driver glances at them in the rearview mirror a few times, clearly uncomfortable with their conversation but not wanting to intrude.

Cindy blushes slightly and looks away, trying to hide her surprise. "I see," she says quietly. "Well... thank you for that." She takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "And what did you think?" Her voice is barely above a whisper now.

The driver clears his throat loudly, drawing their attention back to the road ahead. They both glance at him apologetically before settling into an awkward silence once more.