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mature Hollywood hotties

Rockauthor

TMF Master
Joined
Apr 21, 2001
Messages
816
Points
16
MICHELLE PFEIFFER

SELA WARD

RENEE RUSSO

SIGOURNEY WEAVER


Starring in


SPACE COWGIRLS

(Inspired by the motion picture “Space Cowboys”)

(ticklish celebrity fiction)






In the year 2058, the four-woman crew of the newly commissioned space shuttle Phoenix launched from earth on a routine maintenance trip. Nexus 4 was a strategic weapons satellite in need of repair and the team of Cmndr Sigourney Weaver, Capt. Renee Russo, Capt. Sela Ward, and Capt. Michelle Pfeiffer embarked on their first space shuttle mission together. They were all beautiful, twenty-something women, tenacious and fearless.

“Phoenix to ground control. Approaching Nexus. Over.” Sigourney Weaver confirmed.

“Ground control to Phoenix. We copy that. Over.”

Once Phoenix had docked with the satellite, Sigourney, Renee, Sela, and Michelle went to work. Sigourney Weaver and Renee Russo proudly suited up and entered the airlock hatch while Michelle and Sela remained inside. Phoenix’s exterior door was opened and the lovely brunette and the gorgeous redhead exited the shuttle. Attached to their cords, the two women adeptly floated to the rear of Nexus 4.

Renee Russo carried the case containing the new parts while Sigourney Weaver carried the case that included the necessary tools. With expert precision, the commander opened one of the panels on the satellite and began work. It took several hours, but the new parts were finally installed and the task was a success. As the two women headed back to the space shuttle, though, Renee noticed a thick, pink, cloud-like mass slowly approaching them out of nowhere.

“You see that?” Renee asked Sigourney.

“Yeah,” said Sigourney Weaver. “I wonder where that came from.”

“Do you think it might be dangerous?”

“I don’t know, but let’s hurry back to the shuttle. Hopefully it’s just some harmless meteor dust.”

Renee Russo and Sigourney Weaver safely returned to the space shuttle Phoenix. Once inside the craft, they removed their spacesuits and assumed their posts on the fight deck where fellow crew members Sela Ward and Michelle Pfeiffer were monitoring.

“We almost thought we’d lose you in that pink cloud out there,” said Michelle Pfeiffer. “What the hell is that thing?”

“I haven’t a clue,” answered Renee Russo, “but if it had gotten any closer we would have lost visibility, altogether.”

“Did you get a reading on it, Sela?” Sigourney Weaver asked.

“Negative, Commander,” replied Sela Ward. “The computer’s analysis gave no information about the mass; meteorological, geological, or biological .”

“Hmm, that’s odd.” Sigourney said. “Well, seeing that it doesn’t seem to pose a threat, let’s say we all forget about it and just head on home.”

“Aye Aye, Commander,” said Renee Russo.

The four-woman crew of Phoenix made preparations for their return back to earth and departed from the orbit of Nexus 4. Moments later, as each woman was strapped down in their individual seats, Renee Russo started fidgeting anxiously in her seat as if she had an annoying itch or something. Michelle Pfeiffer noticed Renee’s odd behavior and donned a curious frown on her face.

“What‘s wrong, Renee?” Michelle asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Renee Russo. “I just all of sudden got this strange feeling all over my body. It’s almost like some kind of weird energy is slowly intensifying throughout my body and I can’t seem to shake it off. It’s very bothersome.”

At the same time, Michelle Pfeiffer began to feel the same nagging phenomenon little by little escalating all over her body as well.

“I think I’m starting to feel it, too,” said Michelle as she too squirmed about in her seat.

Then both Renee Russo and Michelle Pfeiffer noticed that Sela Ward and Sigourney Weaver were also beginning to twitch nervously in their seats. Renee then experienced something that felt like fingertips methodically and purposefully kneading her flesh on an especially sensitive area around her waist.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” Renee Russo shrieked. “HEY! AAAAAHAHAHAHA! SOMETHING’S TICKLING ME!”

“(gasp)EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I FEEL SOMETHING TICKLING ME, TOO,” squealed Michelle Pfeiffer as she felt several fingers crawling up her extremely ticklish inner thighs.

“OH MY GOD, WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME? AAAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHA! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” Sela Ward screamed as she felt an intense tickling sensation attacking her in the ribs.

“WHAT’S HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE GOING ON HERE? HEEHEEHEEHEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Sigourney Weaver giggled. She felt fingers rapidly scrabbling along the arches of her tender feet.

Somehow, some bizarre occurrence (perhaps caused by the pink cloud-like mass they had experienced earlier) was producing unavoidable and uncontrollable tickling sensations in the all-female crew of the space shuttle Phoenix. And with every passing moment, the tickling became more intense and unpredictable. Sigourney, Renee, Sela, and Michelle were helplessly screaming and laughing, strapped down in their seats, wondering if this strange episode would ever end.

An unexplainable wonder in the form of what felt like human contact would explore every ticklish inch of these young beauties’ tender flesh: a lone finger running up and down both of Michelle Pfeiffer’s ticklish armpits; menacing digits probing between and under Sela Ward’s excruciatingly ticklish toes; mischievous raspberries taunting Renee Russo’s terribly sensitive soles; relentless fingers squeezing the backs of Sigourney Weaver’s hyper-ticklish knees.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OOH! OOH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! I’M TICKLISH! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,” screamed Michelle Pfeiffer.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA*hiccup*HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH*gasp*OH! OH! NOT THERE! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK,” squealed Renee Russo.

“HEEHEEHAHAHAHAHAHA! EEEEEEEEEEEK! NO MORE! AAAAAAAAAAGH! OOOOOOHOOHOOHOOHOO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! HAHAHAHAHAHA! OOOOOOOOOOOOH! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! NO MORE! THAT TICKLES,” cackled Sigourney Weaver.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HEEHEEHEEEEEEEEEEEEE! OH MY GOD! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! I CAN’T HAHAHA HEEHEEHEEHEE TAKE IT ANYMORE*gasp*OH MY GOD, THAT AAAAAAAAAAGH TICKLES! OOH! NOT THERE,” shrieked Sela Ward.

The bizarre tickling phenomenon lasted about forty-five minutes and then promptly subsided. The exhausted and bewildered crew of the space shuttle Phoenix lay limp in their seats, breathing heavily and feeling incredibly violated. After the women had recuperated, they all agreed not to tell anyone of their extra-terrestrial encounter, dismissing it as just some temporary enigma and to put the whole experience behind them. Later, Michelle, Sela, Renee, and Sigourney had landed safely back on the earth.

Twenty years later...

The Nexus 4 satellite was due for its scheduled maintenance. Once again, the crew of Sela Ward, Sigourney Weaver, Michelle Pfeiffer, and Renee Russo returned to space aboard the space shuttle Phoenix. Now in their mid-forties, the four women were experienced and respected veterans of their field. Little did they know, this current mission would put them to the ultimate test of their abilities.

“Phoenix to ground control, we are now docked with Nexus 4. Over.” Sela Ward announced.

“Ground control to Phoenix. Affirmative.”

“Let’s get to work, gals,” said Sigourney Weaver.

Renee, Sigourney, Michelle, and Sela prepared to unbuckle themselves from their seats when Renee Russo donned an utterly shocked look on her face. Her eyes were wide with alarm, her mouth dropped open with an audible gasp, and her toes curled locked; her eyes fixed directly in front of her, looking out the windshield of the shuttle. There it was as clear as day, that same thick, pink, cloud-like mass they encountered twenty years ago was slowly moving down the windshield.

“Oh my god! I-I-I don’t believe it!” Renee shouted. “It’s that thing again!”

Then the others noticed it as well. They couldn’t believe their eyes. Every muscle in their bodies tensed up, their hearts began to pound, and their breathing became more rapid with every second as they waited for the inevitable. Even now at their mature age, Renee Russo, Michelle Pfeiffer, Sigourney Weaver, and Sela Ward found themselves still being EXTREMELY TICKLISH!

“Oh no! I-I-It‘s gonna tickle torture us again, isn‘t it?” A panicked Michelle Pfeiffer asked.

“C’mon you two, we’re all mature women now. We’re not ticklish anymore,” insisted Sigourney Weaver.

“Sigourney’s right,” said Sela. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. We not ticklish little girls anymore, we’re in our forties now. We can handle this.”

Ultimately, what the four attractive, middle-aged women feared the most came upon them. That same worrisome energy was growing throughout their bodies. The unabashed tickling began just as ominously and teasingly as it did twenty years earlier. But this time the four astronauts decided to fight against the extra-terrestrial phenomenon; they tried to resist the urge to laugh.

Again, Sigourney Weaver’s soft, sensitive peds were attacked by a score of briskly scraping fingernails; soft, stroking fingertips dragged across the sides of Renee Russo’s very ticklish neck; creeping, tickling hands invaded Sela Ward’s sensitive inner thighs; merciless raspberries tormented Michelle Pfeifer’s incredibly ticklish belly button. Their bodies trembled a little, but the women were determined to not give in to the tickles.

It doesn’t tickle. It doesn’t tickle, Sela Ward chanted in her mind. Her eyes were closed tightly and toes were curled locked inside her boots.

I’m not ticklish. I am a mature woman. I’m not ticklish, Sigourney Weaver thought.

Oooh, this tickles so much, Oooh! Not there, thought Michelle Pfeiffer.

Gotta fight this. Don’t give in, thought Renee Russo.

“ *moan* Ooh! Ooh! It does not tickle,” Michelle groaned.

“Grrrr! Hang in there, everyone. Remember, we‘re not ticklish,” grunted Sigourney.

“ *gasp* I’m not ticklish *gasp* I’m not ticklish! Heehee! Grrrr!” Renee chanted.

“Fight it *gasp* fight it *gasp* eeeeeeeeek! Fight it,” chanted Sela.

The crew of Phoenix were effectively able to deal with the unremitting tickling for the first twenty-five minutes of their outer space ordeal, until the ticklish assault became so intense that each woman’s own personal will power dam finally broke. All four collapsed into helplessly ticklish screaming laughter.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *hiccup* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA *hiccup* NO MORE!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! THAT TICKLES! OOOH! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!”

“P-P-PLEASE STOP! AAAAAAAAAAGH! HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA! I CAN’T TAKE IT EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!”

“OH MY GOD! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HA *hiccup* HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

The four older women were reduced to a bunch of ticklish little schoolgirls; the tickling was just too much for them; they giggled with abandon and squealed with delight; they flinched and twisted and squirmed in their seats, and just like the time before, the cosmic phenomenon desisted after about forty-five minutes. Michelle Pfeiffer, Sela Ward, Renee Russo, and Sigourney Weaver later recovered from their ticklish nightmare and went on to complete their mission, but neither woman forgot the day that that silent, eerie, mysterious episode got the best them.






THE END
 
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