New York or LA? Neither!

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an excerpt from the article:

MH finished his drink and gestured at the bartender clear across the room. The man shot forward with a tray bearing fresh glasses, an ice bucket, and a whole bottle of very nice tequila. While he replaced glasses, poured, and wiped off the table MH just watched me with an amused grin and didn’t speak a word. The man ran off with the tray, but left the bottle.

“I have to know. How do I remind you of your husband?”

“I can’t. Oh God, this is so embarrassing.”

“We are like old friends,” he said, sliding his hand into mine slowly and caressing my palm with his rounded, blunt fingertips. “There is no need for embarrassment.”

“What the hell.” I took a long drink and shrugged. “You were my celebrity-free-pass.” He looked confused so I continued. “You know. Sometimes couples joke about what celebrity they reserve as their one chance to cheat without repercussions. His was Penelope Cruz, mine was you.”

He frowned and lied badly. “I think this must be an American thing.”

“Maybe,” I said, but I was thinking that more than one little honey has probably curled up to MH and told him about a deal she has with her husband.

“So if he had met Penelope Cruz on the street, and she agreed, they could have had sex and you wouldn’t have been upset?”

“It didn’t really seem like a possibility. I agree that in light of recent events, I probably shouldn’t have joked about sleeping with other people. But it seemed harmless at the time.”

“I wonder how he’d feel knowing that you’re here with me.” His eyes slitted with mischief and he took my hand again.

Ah, and we’d come full circle. “He wouldn’t care. And even if he did, you’re not here with me. We’re just sharing a drink.” I tried to sound nervous over my tequila buzz. “You’re here with your … girlfriend, right?”

“Nope.” His eyes seemed darker, calculating. His knee was touching my leg under the table.

“Oh.” I waited a few beats, then raised my eyes to his. “Oh…”

“I bet he would care a lot.” His eyes roamed all over my body and occasionally lit on my face. “Why are you still wearing your wedding ring?”

“So that men won’t bother me while I’m traveling.”

He laughed loud and long at that one.

read more for the entire (M rated ~ 5,600 word) article as it appeared on TFP


A note to the reader: All names have been changed and/or abbreviated to prevent years of lengthy and embarrassing litigation. All persons mentioned herein are fictional or caricatures, and any resemblance to an actual person is purely coincidental.

New York or Los Angeles? Neither.

The best place for a celebrity ambush is Small Town, USA!

I feel, as this is the first in what is hopefully a long series of articles for TenFootPole, that I should divulge a small, inconsequential matter before getting to the business at hand. I did, in fact, engage in sexual relations with the managing director of this publication before I’d even heard of this position. It was the afternoon we met. Imagine if you will, a friend pointed him out on the street. The person who created the ultimate celebrity fan site, TFP.mag. He was so attractive and magnetic that I followed him into a restaurant. I pretended to be his waitress and in five minutes, talked him into taking me to a nearby motel without even ordering lunch. We had a scorching hot, bunny fuck on the white shag rug. After straightening myself up, I attempted my favorite post coitus move, a quick getaway. He managed to stop me with a few pointed questions and eventually (took you long enough, sir) hired me to write this piece. The rest will likely live on in infamy, or at least online somewhere.

Luckily, the very day he finalized our working arrangement, a friend contacted me with the best tip I’ve had in years. (Thanks Sasha!) Her intel gave me a good chance to climb into the lap of one of my favorite celebrities, MH! I’ve been following his rising film career since first laying eyes on the 6’4” (that’s 193cm of man) Scandinavian stunner. Knowing he could be my first feature for this series nearly gave me palpitations. I jumped a plane that afternoon and headed straight at him, with a very light bag. Where did I fly off to in such a lather? New York or L.A.? Hah! My plane touched down roughly at none other than Detroit Metro. The cab drove me through Westland briefly. The area did not get any nicer since I’d last seen it. We hit the freeway, flying over the terribly patched road surface, cutting our way through suburbia for 40 minutes. Finally, thickly entrenched in a rich, quiet suburb, (city slogan on the sign – Escape to Small Town Luxury) I checked into the three star hotel my source had mentioned. It was in a mall parking lot, adjacent to a carpet warehouse outlet, and looked like the last place you’d find one of the sexiest and most sought after movie stars on the planet. With his easy charm and God-like appearance, MH could have his pick of women wherever he goes and leave a sexually satisfied swath of besotted fangirls beautifully broken in his wake. Unfortunately for everyone, he seems to be a serial monogamist. A cad who settles down seriously with one lucky woman after the next. I know my horny friends, how dare he? Operating under the assumption that his skills between the sheets, or on the kitchen chopping block, were so amazing that women couldn’t help but be sucked into his domesticity trap, I was wary of seducing him. The fear that he might try to slap me into girlfriend shackles and I would be powerless to resist his charisma was very real.

Determined to avoid entanglements, arguments or any other ugliness, I have been planning my hit-it-and-quit-it approach on him since the moment I first saw him on screen. As he is almost always accompanied by one girlfriend or another, and they are usually in their early twenties, I figured I’d need more than the usual smile and crook a finger to hook him. I am, after all, his age. Trying to compete with the barely legal would get me nowhere. Hence, I went the other direction and tried to look like his mother. Well, a hot version of his mother covering up expensive lingerie. A lot of my cover story related to what I had been able to learn about her life. Of course, some of it was based on my research into his likes and dislikes, and a lot of it was planned to be spur-of-the-moment bullshit. For what I consider obvious reasons, I can’t share specific details of my appearance with you, the worldwide TFP audience, without destroying any hope I’ve kindled for future, undercover, celebrity operations. To aide our purposes here, you can picture my face and body any which way you like. I’ll just help out with some broad brushstrokes to enhance your experience. Use your rose-colored imaginations, my nasty new admirers; make me gorgeous. Since I wasn’t anywhere near my own salon, and the powers that be here at TFP hadn’t yet told me about my lavish expense account, I did my own quick, semi-permanent hair dye, a dark, chestnut brown. After rinsing and conditioning, I lathered my body up and shaved everything else. My hair got blown straight with just a slight underturn around the edges. It was too dark and didn’t have enough high and low lights to look natural, but it would do. I dressed in a dark, nearly modest but short, A-line skirt and a pale blue, button-down blouse with precisely two fingers of cleavage exposed. Some subtle colored contacts gave me the bluest of eyes. I left my make-up fairly light, except my eyelashes looked ultra-long and thick once I finally got the false ones glued in properly. Of course, I also did the stay-on red lipstick. After slapping clunky, nonprescription frames over my eyes, I slipped into the highest heeled, platform pumps I own, and headed out on the hunt.

From the lobby’s front desk (you can never ask for too many towels to be delivered) I could see directly into the hotel’s glass enclosed bar area. It was half-full, mainly with tired travelers and bored guys in suits. Some dispirited elderly women were playing darts reluctantly in one corner. I took a seat at the table nearest the lobby so I could clearly see the elevators, and nursed a red wine, his mother’s most common drink in public. Stylus out, I pretended to work on my mobile. Instead, I read the dossier I’d compiled on him over and over. I very much wanted him to approach me for this first tricky part of my plan to work as I hoped. Otherwise, his guard would be up and I might never get into his pants.

I’d laid in wait for two hours, and only two generous glasses, when a tiny, hard-body, blonde walked into the bar. She did a full stop and scanned the dark interior like a terminator. Her face was so fierce I worried about the intended targets of her search which I suspected might be other attractive, available women. Barely in her twenties, she had a lot of tanned, flawless skin showing, no make-up I could see and looked like a freshly picked, angry, little peach. Shit. I looked so professional, and old, I hadn’t even made it onto her radar.

A minute later, MH entered the bar. I was actually writing at the time, but I swear I felt him come in before I saw him. My heated blood forced my eyes straight ahead and onto that perfect ass before I knew what hit me. Oh, god damn. He walked straight to the bar and stopped next to her. I did a quick internal mantra, holding my breath. Please let her be the giant snobbish prick she seems. Please let her be the biggest asshole. She gripped his forearm possessively, digging her manicure into his flesh, and continued to flirt with the bartender pouring their drinks. Her smallish, but very high, breasts kept brushing into MH’s arm while she wiggle talked. Definitely his latest girlfriend and he was beaming at her, all smiles. Double god damn, why don’t those mantras ever work? He was supposed to hate her rude, superior demeanor, damn it. He pulled away from her a little, finally, then sat on a bar stool, downing the drink she’d ordered him and then sliding his fingers through his hair. He looked like a modern god, but tired. He just sat there calmly with his perfect features, huge chiseled body, looking far better than on screen. I wanted to lick him from head to toe and then make him take a nap.

His kitten took the bait and caught me staring at him open-mouthed like a ridiculous gawker. She leaned in on him and whispered in his ear. Smiling like a T-Rex, she pointed her incredibly slim arm at me and laughed loud enough to draw every eye in the small place. His amused eyes met mine and he laughed with her. At me. Instantly making a tactical decision I allowed real tears to spring into my eyes, blurring their faces from my sight. Unused to contacts, I didn’t know they’d swim around so much that I couldn’t see, and I could only hope he’d caught my vulnerable expression and watched the start of the waterworks. I blinked rapidly and dove my attention into my mobile, remembering to seem embarrassed. Crocodile tears splashed all over my blouse and my nipples hardened to diamond tips at the thought that his eyes might be on me that very instant.

“Excuse me please,” a familiar, professionally un-accented voice finally said, beyond my blurry vision. He took the bait! Shit, game on, ready or not. Blinking hard again, I looked up into crystalline blue-gray eyes, light tears still shimmering in mine. “I knew it.” He looked back over his shoulder at his little girlfriend, she watched from her bar stool, unmoving, frown set. “She has upset you with her stupid laughing. I’m so sorry.”

“No, no.” I waved my hands frantically. Pity was not at all what I was after. Now how to divert him to better topics, like orgasms.

He spoke right over me. “But I am sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed. I don’t even really know what she was going on about. Whatever she did, please forgive?”

“Really, no need to apologize for your friend. It’s just that seeing the two of you reminded me of… Never mind, I’m all right, really… You are MH, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He flashed his amazing teeth. “Guilty. Reminded you of what?”

“Oh no, nothing.” He was still smiling and my insides had gone gooey and mucked up my brain. Time stretched out in silence while my mind floundered.

“You’re a fan?” He glanced again toward the girl and his body actually started leaning that way. “Would you like an autograph?”

In spit, on my thigh. “No, nothing like that. I really loved you in Pivot (I know I’m not supposed to fangirl, but he was so excellent in that film, sir). Most leading men are too vain to take on such a weak character. You showed great vulnerability, a risk, but the right one. I thought you were just a pretty face until you showed us your range, instead of your ass.” It was great to know my mouth had finally shown up to the party. “Oh my god, I just said that out loud, didn’t I?” I took a big gulp of wine and watched him.

“Yes, but it’s ok.” He laughed as I feigned embarrassment. I was still searching my mind for an angle in. “Most fans I’ve met have hated that film. Too slow. No action. It’s nice to hear that someone liked it.”

“I did. My favorite though, was your role in drag, unconventional, sexy.”

“That’s a first. My mother even hated that movie. She said I made an ugly girl.”

“You looked brave to me.” Ah, he mentioned his mother. “Not gay enough, maybe, but brave.”

He laughed again. “Not gay enough! Hah, you are a riot.” I watched him eye my ring and do a mental calculation. He sighed, “Well, if I can’t sign anything for you, I had better return to my friend.” Kitten was starting to glare a smoking hole through my head. “Thank-you for the good review.” He reached for my hand and leaning over, dropped a peck on my cheek. He smelled like wood, oak or something. What kind of self-respecting adult man goes around smelling like wood, I ask you?

“You’re so welcome,” I tried to sound gracious but I was rattled. “I’ll be here all night.”

He slowly let go of my hand and looked at me strangely. I figured he didn’t get my lame joke. “Well, another time then.” He did that ingenious thing some men do where they continue to look at you while walking away. Then he turned back to his micro-girlfriend and out of my clutches. She was twitching now. I gave her my best canary eating grin. Though it was hard to put feeling behind it, I managed.

They resumed their evening, so I climbed back into the world of my mobile, stylus out and writing away. Now and then I’d look up to watch them, so I wasn’t really getting anything done. They finished their drinks too soon and I watched her vacu-seal herself to his left side for the triumphant trip to the elevators. Triple goddamn. I downed my third glass of wine and waved at the bartender.

“Tequila and ice please.”

“Mr. H will be picking up your tab this evening, ma’am.”

“Then make it the top shelf tequila, and tip yourself generously.”

Losing the race to MH’s room, I dropped my cover completely in defeat, and began sipping my tequila vigorously. I’d moved away from the excellent, line-of-sight table and tried to hide my shame in a back horseshoe booth. I sat there a long time thinking how it should have gone, could have gone. When I couldn’t take any more I switched to water, trying to cool down my overwrought nervous system. The only trouble was, all that anticipation and alcohol had already primed me for action. I’m not ashamed to tell you, my horny friends, I was trying to decide between A) dragging one of the business guys into the restroom for a quickie or, B) my rabbit, combined with the memory of MH and that woody smell. Option B was way ahead. Suddenly, there he was, MH, heading straight at me as if my fantasy of him had suddenly materialized.

“You are still here, wonderful. May I?” He pointed next to me in the deep booth.

I nodded, momentarily shocked. They’d left in an elevator twenty minutes ago! He sat and in my head I heard the bell for round two.

“You have me intrigued.” He squinted at me for a minute, as if unsure of himself. “A beautiful woman, here alone all evening. Drinking and what, Facebooking?”

“No. I’m trying to get some work done.”

“Forgive me. Drinking and working. What is your name, by the way?”

I gave him a fake one.

“Why aren’t you working in your room?” He asked me, words very slightly slurred and eyeing my fake wedding ring like a viper.

“It’s too quiet. I like a lot of noise while I write.”

“You’re a writer?”

I nodded. “I’m a technical writer for a major medical supply company. That’s why I’m here. Business trip.” Cover miraculously salvaged!

“Well, judging by your devotion to your work,” he said, checking the late hour on his simple silver watch, “you must love it.”

“I hate it.” My tone was flat and his eyebrow went up. “I should have been a doctor, but I ended up writing and needed to support myself. You were an actor as a child, right? Don’t you hate it sometimes? Didn’t you ever want to do anything else?”

“I’ve had other jobs. They were mostly a lot of boring work. At least acting is interesting. I get a lot of time off with my family.”

“That must be wonderful. Are you all very close?” They are, very.

“Yes. It’s hard to be here, away from them.”

“Thank god for skype, huh?”

“It’s kept me from doing some dumb things, knowing I’ll see my mom online the day after, yeah…” He laughed a little, then got serious and stared deep into my eyes. “Away from home on business, your husband must miss you.”

“With every bullet so far.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just a stupid old joke. He doesn’t miss me. We’re separated.” I made it seem squeezed out of me.

“I’m sorry.” He slid even closer to me on the curved, red vinyl bench and hope shot through me like liquid fire.

“Yeah, me too,” I said sadly. “He was cheating on me with one of his students.” I paused, just drunk enough that I was unsure of how to proceed. I wished that I hadn’t gone back to my originally planned bullshit and had just jumped into his lap. “He’s a physics professor.”

“Oh, a college girl then?”

“Right.”

“And when my young friend laughed at you, it reminded you of your husband with this girl?”

“A little.” Wow, he’s good. My eyes again co-operated with some moisture that I quickly dashed away with my drink napkin.

“Again, I am sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter. Seeing you had actually already reminded me.”

“Of your husband?”

“Yes.”

MH finished his drink and gestured at the bartender clear across the room. The man shot forward with a tray bearing fresh glasses, an ice bucket, and a whole bottle of very nice tequila. While he replaced glasses, poured, and wiped off the table MH just watched me with an amused grin and didn’t speak a word. The man ran off with the tray, but left the bottle.

“I have to know. How do I remind you of your husband?”

“I can’t. Oh God, this is so embarrassing.”

“We are like old friends,” he said, sliding his hand into mine slowly and caressing my palm with his rounded, blunt fingertips. “There is no need for embarrassment.”

“What the hell.” I took a long drink and shrugged. “You were my celebrity-free-pass.” He looked confused so I continued. “You know. Sometimes couples joke about what celebrity they reserve as their one chance to cheat without repercussions. His was Penelope Cruz, mine was you.”

He frowned and lied badly. “I think this must be an American thing.”

“Maybe,” I said, but I was thinking that more than one little honey has probably curled up to MH and told him about a deal she has with her husband.

“So if he had met Penelope Cruz on the street, and she agreed, they could have had sex and you wouldn’t have been upset?”

“It didn’t really seem like a possibility. I agree that in light of recent events, I probably shouldn’t have joked about sleeping with other people. But it seemed harmless at the time.”

“I wonder how he’d feel knowing that you’re here with me.” His eyes slitted with mischief and he took my hand again.

Ah, and we’d come full circle. “He wouldn’t care. And even if he did, you’re not here with me. We’re just sharing a drink.” I tried to sound nervous over my tequila buzz. “You’re here with your … girlfriend, right?”

“Nope.” His eyes seemed darker, calculating. His knee was touching my leg under the table. “Oh.” I waited a few beats, then raised my eyes to his. “Oh…”

“I bet he would care a lot.” His eyes roamed all over my body and occasionally lit on my face. “Why are you still wearing your wedding ring?”

“So that men won’t bother me while I’m traveling.”

He laughed loud and long at that one.

Once the elevator doors shushed closed he was on me. His arms came around and pinned me against him. One hand shot up and into my hair, massaging my scalp as he cupped the back of my head and pulled me in to devour my lips. His other hand slid down my body slowly coming to rest in a tight grip on my ass. He ground me against his already firming erection and a moan slipped out of me, muffled around his probing tongue. He was so tall that, even in my super high heels, the base of his dick was smashed perfectly against the top of my pussy as he lifted me slightly to rest against his broad frame. The tiny first thread of a building orgasm twitched in response to his heady ministrations and I had to actively resist humping him right there in the elevator. Here I was, determined to let him lead during our night together (to report a fair assessment of his skill and technique, as ordered) and he was propelling my body forward way too quickly. Deciding we needed to slow down a little, I shifted my weight and pushed him backwards as hard as I could. He grinned and let me back him against the elevator wall. I pulled his head down to me and kissed him very slowly, licking his lusher bottom lip, trying to set the taste and feel of him in my mind. I finished just as the elevator stopped and took a large step away before the doors slid open.

He led me down the hallway to his room, holding my hand and smiling at me playfully. Both of us tipsy but still acting a bit shy in the face of what we were about to do to each other.

“Why’d you get rid of your friend?” I asked him. “You two looked pretty cozy downstairs.”

“Hardly friends. We just met at a mutual friend’s house earlier today.”

“Your acquaintance then, why’d you send her packing?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“You don’t mind me speaking about a woman who was just up here a short time ago?”

“When you put it like that it sounds absolutely intriguing. Now I must know.”

“I couldn’t even kiss her without picturing your tears.”

Uck, really? I thought to myself, saying to him straight faced, “So you asked her to leave?”

“I had to see if you were still down there, writing away on your phone. Elise was less besotted by you and didn’t share my interest in your general welfare so I suggested she go elsewhere. I think the situation has worked out better for us all.”

“A real win-win type of evening.”

“Right.”

He got his key card to work, turned around and snatched me off my feet, crushing his lips against mine with desperate abandon. While I was busy experiencing the reality of my mouth being devoured by one of the sexiest men alive (not an exaggeration, MH literally won a vote, several times) he somehow managed to carry me into his room, bolt the door and then slam me against the wall. It was as if he’d read a play-by-play of my most libidinous foreplay fantasy. His arms easily supported the small amount of my weight that he wasn’t holding up with his raging erection and his mouth soon dropped from my face to my neck where he proceeded to lick, suck and breathe heavily on every square centimeter of exposed skin. His attentions nearly destroyed my central nervous system to the point that I had to close my eyes against the beautiful sight of him and picture a growing landfill to fight off a clitoral orgasm.

Still supporting me against the wall he leaned away from me to breathlessly ask, “Do you love this blouse?”

“What blouse?” I asked him, mindless to the very concept of clothing, lost in the moment of pure sensation.

He chuckled deep in his throat, the shocks from which radiated through his torso and cock to vibrate against my still pinned pelvis. He grabbed the button-down front of my light blue blouse with both hands and ripped it open to reveal my breasts in their black lace underwire push up bra. A moan mixed with a growl escaped out from behind MH’s clenched jaw and his hands stayed tightly gripped on the remains of my ruined blouse for a few breaths. His eyes traveled back and forth between my breasts and my lips like he couldn’t decide. Finally gaining some kind of control of his motor functions he grinned up into my face before diving headfirst into my tits, kissing and licking and sucking all the while slowly lowering me back to the ground. My toes hit the floor and he started backing me up toward the bed, his huge hands running lightly all over my body while his tongue flicked here and there, lighting on lips, nips, earlobes. My hands undid his belt of their own accord and only his pants hitting the floor brought me back to reality enough to push him away playfully in search of my abandoned purse. It was sideways on a table near the door and laying my hands on it somehow brought me the rest of the way down to earth. The events unfolding around me snapped into sharp focus and I had a moment of terrifying clarity to contemplate the impending fruition of so many unrequited fantasies. Then MH’s hands came around me to cup my aching boobs and his mouth started on the back of my neck and shoulder while his fingers pinched and probed my nipples. His inability to keep his hands off me, even for a few minutes, had me wet and so ready for him, I had a condom out in seconds. Now it was my turn to push him bedwards, but we never got there. He snatched the rubber from me, ripped open the package and slipped it onto himself while I sucked on his tongue. Caught up in the frenzied heat of it all we both crashed together to the floor. After some more clothes ripped and a few buttons popped, he was finally inside me, his first thrust deep enough to force an anguished, yelled moan out of my throat. We continued to get naked, stripping each other eventually of every last scrap, as we thrust our impatient bodies together, over and over. The lights were set low and cast MH’s beautiful features into sharp relief. His high cheekbones, sternum and clavicles caught my eyes and gave me something real to focus on besides the overwhelming sensations spiraling up from our joined efforts. His amazing body tensed and flexed above me, under my greedy hands, fast and then slow in turns as he changed rhythm every few pumps to delay our mutual gratification. His voice, made low and raspy by our exertions, sent another level of thrill through my body when he started breathing words into my ear. At first it was mostly endearments and compliments, all the while sliding in and out of me and driving me wild with his hands. Then he started describing all of the incredible sounding things he was going to do to me later. Later? His thrusts grew even more intense and his cock hardened further into a latex covered ramrod that filled me perfectly with each swipe. Thinking he was close destroyed the last threads of my control and my orgasm peaked high and burst out of me. I cheered his name as my spasms rolled through my rapidly relaxing body.

Despite my cataclysmic climax, MH did not finish but continued to slowly probe my throbbing vagina with his engorged member. His defined chest, rocking above was so sexy I felt another climax bud within me even though flares and twitches were still erupting from my last peak. He slid out and rolled me onto my stomach. Spreading my legs very wide with both his hands, he kneeled between them and slid his palm under the front of my mons to tightly cup and squeeze my still hidden clitoris. With the first two fingers of his other hand he slowly probed my opening and sighed with pleasure when a fresh wave of moisture creamed out onto his exploratory digits. Laying on top of me and supporting his huge torso with his sleekly muscled arms his dick slid in again, this time achingly deep. He rocked in and out for what seemed like the best and longest hours (days?) of my entire life. Then I got an earful of something that must be very dirty in his native tongue. He pulled out again and helped me to roll onto my back once more. Burying himself deep inside me he didn’t come or thrust but just lay there, fully joined with me for a few still breaths while he stared into my face. His rapt attention to my inner processes were my undoing and I ground myself against him senselessly until, chuckling, he slammed a few last thrusts into my begging sex. He came then, strangely silent, his eyes rolling back into his head, just as I finished my exhausted second orgasm screaming out his name again and again. He rolled part of the way off me and I lay panting for a bit before passing out, pinned under one of his legs.

When I woke, he was spooning the hell out of me and I was sweating like a maniac. I extricated myself from under his lengthy limbs with some difficulty and hit the shower. I had just conditioned when MH surprised me by climbing in behind me. Dispensing a large amount of body wash into my hands I rubbed him down, paying special attention to his abs and that fine ass of his. He got giggly during his soaping, but turned sweet and serious while washing me. He did an extremely thorough job and then, after rinsing, went down on me right there in the shower. Sitting down on the tub floor, he nosed his way between my legs and lapped up the water while licking at my lady parts. He was both enthusiastic and skilled and was soon supporting most of my weight as I pressed myself shamelessly against his active lips and tongue. I melted into a quivering puddle in short order and never even noticed him get out. After regaining reality and rinsing off, I found him innocently shaving at the sink, still gorgeously naked and looking extremely self-satisfied. I wrapped myself up in a giant towel, sat down on the spotless floor and watched him finish up, memorizing him, again. He whisked the dark blonde stubble from his chin and cheeks with long efficient swipes of the razor then moisturized with some expensive looking cream. He strolled out naked into the main room and when I didn’t jump up to follow him right away, he crooked a finger at me before disappearing behind the corner toward the bed. Hopping up, I exited the bathroom to stroll over to where he was lying naked on top of the sheets, watching me. He reached up and yanked off my towel, only to just lay there, staring adoringly up at my nude body. Finally, he pulled me down on top of him and began kissing me without an ounce of haste. This triggered something within me and though MH may have begun things with sweet kisses, it was as if I couldn’t help my trajectory. Soon I found myself showing off one of my most impressive talents; I happen to be a five star cocksucker.

Many people, mostly women I’m afraid, disparage, even eschew performing fellatio, finding it an impersonal, single joyed, preamble to the main event. This couldn’t be further from my oral philosophy. I find that engaging in this particular activity reveals a lot about a man’s character, what he does with his hands, what noises he makes, and you get to really examine it. MH’s cock is a whopping nine inches long with impressive girth, a slight left lean and some solid heft to it. It really is massive and as long as we’re being honest, the largest size I’m usually interested in entertaining. He massaged my neck while I was down there and, while I’m not sure if yelling out unintelligible foreign phrases in the heat of passion is high praise, I couldn’t exactly ask, so that’s how I took it. Once he came, he pulled me up to him for his brand of aggressive cuddling. I didn’t even completely hate it. Always the gentleman, or possibly paranoid, MH stayed awake until I slowed my breathing and faked sleep. As I lay wrapped in his clinging arms I allowed myself to believe, if only for a moment, that we were actually together and that this close and cozy contentment might endure within me, because of him, even when separated by time and space. The realization that he was finally all the way asleep forced me to let the mirage go and I bolted, satiated, sober, and successful!

As I don’t generally flaunt my promiscuity to an unknown number of readers online, it feels strange, to say the least, to document and share this experience with all of you. I hope my story will encourage many of you to go out and chase your dreams, whatever, or whomever they may be. And, since I love feeling strange, I’ve decided to stay on and keep doing it. That is to say, them, as often as I’m able to take one for the team. No lead will go unchased, so please feel free to send in all your celebrity requests and tips to help me achieve my dream of worldwide sexual conquest. If you want to know what they’ve got and how they use it, or if you know where I might pin down a famous hottie, call the tip line or drop your big sister an email at TheTinseltownTemptress@tfp.mag. I realize the name’s a bit much, but what did you expect, weirdos? My boss runs a website that caters to stalkers. Watch out leading men, I’m coming for you!


More articles and the rest of the story can be found in the erotic novel Screw Up, available now at your favorite online retailer.

Screw Up order link

social media links

Pre-order the sequel Screwing Around, available Nov. 23rd, 2016

about the author

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Alexis Wilder loves living near a lake with her patient husband, their mermaid children, and a deranged dog.

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