Beach Bum Bombs in Bed

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an excerpt from the article:

His apartment was gorgeous and for a few minutes I couldn’t believe he took a total stranger there. Then I realized that this was a decoy home. He didn’t really live there. No photos anywhere. No personal touches. The whole place looked like an expensive hotel room. We went into the kitchen and I was shocked when he opened the fridge and there was food in it.

“I was planning a gluten free, egg white breakfast burrito. How does that sound?”

“Really healthy.”

“It is.” JW, still unapologetically topless, rubbed his hand up and down bulging abs. “Gotta keep up my figure.”

I could see around him, into the fridge, just enough to see something large and chocolate in there. “What else is in there?”

“Not much else…”

“I see chocolate.”

“That’s a surprise for later.” He shooed me away from him and pointed at a bar stool. “Sit and let me cook.”

We chatted about the weather while he made our meal. He put a little feta cheese and green olives into the eggs and it was delicious. It was tiny, though and quickly gone.

“Still hungry. What’s for dessert?”

“You’ll see.”

He cleared away the dishes and pulled me off the bar stool. JW started kissing me with his super soft, beautiful lips. Light feathery kisses, and not at all what I was expecting. I felt like fainting, my cretinous friends. He slow danced me to the other side of the kitchen island, the whole time smooching me sweetly. Mashing me against the high counter top with his forceful and amazing body his muscles took the weight off my feet for a second. It felt as if I were melting into him. He moved away from me for two seconds and managed to strip me bare. Lifting me off of my feet, he plunked my ass on the cold granite and pulled my knees both forward and wide apart. Everything was happening so fast that when he laid me back, down on the island, I figured he was planning on having me for dessert. Instead, JW stepped away leaving me nude and in exam position while he got the big glass bowl from the fridge. When he turned around I saw that it was filled with chocolate pudding.

“Do you mind?” he asked me with a bad little boy look on his face.

read more for the entire (M rated ~ 4,000 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.

Beach Bum Bombs in Bed

Easy pickings usually disappoint.

Last week’s rough roller-coaster ride in Florida, I don’t mind telling you, my fellow TFP lovers, left me in a bit of a funk. I was tempted to take some time off for quiet reflection, maybe read some Asimov out by the pool with a pitcher of piña coladas. However, reading your words of kindness, support, and undying love (ok, a little bit of lust) really improved my mood. An awful lot of you seem to feel that if celebrity hunks are going to capitalize on our undying fan love, screw us blue, and leave us crying, the least they can do is shrug it off when I want to talk about it with a million or so of my closest friends. Online. Worldwide. You’ve asked me: Are they shrugging it off Tinseltown Temptress? Do you think you’re getting under their skin? I know what you know little sisters; it’s getting hard to get a date! Quite a few of you also seem to be overly concerned with my veracity. As if I’m going to hold a press conference to clarify things when clearly the plan is to remain safely hidden in the shadows. Believe what you like friends. Reality is a matter of perception. Another devoted reader pleads and pleads with me to let them in on the joke. ‘Woman, I must know. Are you for real?’ All I can tell you is that I exist. Everything else is harder for me to prove.

California’s beach scene is so crowded with amazing bodies I normally find it too distracting a place for my film star radar. Seeing all those boys with their boards I quickly forget all about my inner fangirl and go for the hottest man I can pin down. Luckily for you, while I’m working no mere surfer’s body can distract me from me from my target. Today I was happy to be after the hottest body in prime time, hands down. People, he is so beautiful. Perfect smile, cocoa brown, glowing skin, and a body so serious it should be carved in marble and immortalized. Yum! I have wanted to lick every inch of those abs since I first saw them in a Cosmo print ad for Calvin Klein quite a few years ago. Time has not diminished his appeal in any way. I was after none other than JW and knowing that all that stood between us was sand made me weak in the knees.

Having the access to celebs’ daily lives that TenFootPole provides to their loyal readers made this particular mission very simple to plan. I began by tinting my hair a dark honey tone. After securing the front with a single small French braid running from one ear to the other, I left the back loose and wild. Since he would reportedly be out there all morning, (he really loves the surf and sand scene) I sprayed myself with SPF 100 and suited up in a fairly modest, electric blue bikini. I was trying to portray hot, but wonder-struck tourist, so I slung on a faded green beach cover-up and my soft canvas beach bag. It’s purple and green tie-dye and was given to me in my infancy by Jerry Garcia himself. I only take it out of the vault for special occasions like getting it on with JW. On the way out the door I slipped into my new, lucky purple flip-flops and crossed my fingers they’d earn their name.

Having a reputation for fan seduction made JW a hot target for me, and truth be told I’d been in lust with him for years. Although I didn’t expect much resistance, I still conceived a damsel in distress plot that should cause him to ride to my rescue, but proper timing would be critical. I’d been informed, by a former girlfriend/co-star that he responds favorably to chivalrous activities and never misses an opportunity to look like a stud. As long as he stayed true to type, he would rush to my aid and place me squarely under his protection. Springing my trap should ramp up the intensity on what otherwise might be just another fan fuck for him. The anticipation building inside of me couldn’t hurt our chemistry either. The beach was so crowded today, I wouldn’t even need any backup to set the thing in motion. Damn, I love being self-reliant!

Forced to park far from the beach, I considered walking but I was hoping to put off my perspiration for as long as possible, so I took a cab. An extremely recent informant placed JW close to finishing his workout near the waves. Finding him should be relatively easy, even in the vast crowd. I just needed to start where he would end, then head toward the water. I got dropped at his car and started walking in the direction of the waves. I could somehow sense his amazing body up ahead and felt as if I was being magnetically drawn to him. A few meters closer and I finally spied him. He was pretty far away, and I couldn’t hear his laughter but I saw him high five the man next to him. JW was celebrating already and he hadn’t even met me yet! Plodding through the soft, burning hot sand, I dreamed of his outstretched hand smacking my ass instead and it spurred me forward.

JW stooped over to grab his gym bag and threw his shirt into it rather than put it on. This didn’t surprise me as we’ve all seen photographic evidence of JW’s serious shirt allergy. He slid some very expensive looking shades on and dug out his keys. His buddy (personal trainer?), did some elaborate dude handshake with him then jogged away up the coast. I couldn’t help but fantasize about running my hands all over JW’s totally banging body as I strode toward him. Realizing that I was getting myself extremely worked up, I hoped my physical reaction to his presence wouldn’t seem too horny and desperate. He was walking straight toward me, I suppose toward his car would be more accurate, and I felt flushed with adrenaline. Surveying the beach between us, I mentally mapped out everyone’s location. When JW was about twenty yards from me I altered my angle so I would walk right in front of him on a slight diagonal. I planned to kind of crash into him, or the people around him, need his help, and take the conversation from there. Something like: ‘Oh wow! You’re JW!?!?! Want to fuck?’ But no, my clumsy ass had to take the whole adventure in the wrong direction.

Ten feet away he glanced my way, making eye contact with me and smiling a big blinding one at me. My brain melted into uselessness, I mouthed “Oh my god! JW!” and my legs kept going. I walked right onto a couples’ blanket, and tripped over the guy’s legs. JW noticed I was falling, dove in to catch me, and managed to grab my arm and spin me around to land on top of him in the sand. We both came down with an oohff! During the spin, my free arm flailed around and I accidentally smacked the chick from the blanket in the face. She had sat up as a reaction to my tripping gracefulness, and then got a bitch slap for her trouble. She loomed over us glowering, waiting for me to get off of JW so she could beat me back down onto the sand. The woman had the stance of a trained fighter, and I don’t like to get hit, so I stayed right where I was.

“Hello,” JW began. He started to slide me off of him while I lay there, dead weight. “A little help here?”

“If I get up she’s gonna kick my ass.”

“Get up bitch! You just split my lip!” The woman yelled, a wild, wordless, animal sound, then continued on her angry tirade. Her vulgar ranting warranted a vicious retort on my part but I attempted to ignore her while evaluating my situation. JW’s body rippled under me with his laughter. It was hard planed and slick as silk. I never wanted to lay on anything else. His shoulder and chest area, right under my face and hands, were an unparalleled masterpiece of muscles. Warm, soft and perfectly smooth.

Deciding he’d had enough, JW rolled me off him onto the sand and crouched on the ground next to me staying between the pissed off woman and my prone body. “Look, it was an accident! She didn’t mean to hit you!” He was yelling at her, but looking directly into my eyes and nodding for me to say something. The girl’s boyfriend was up and his leg looked hurt from when I’d tripped and nearly killed us all. He was limping, in any case.

“Yeah,” I stammered for effect, “I didn’t mean to hurt anybody. I’m just really clumsy.”

“I should say so!” The boyfriend was pretending to be pissed off, mostly as a show for his girl, I thought.

A woman ten yards away had her phone aimed at us, but was still pushing buttons.

My brain found my mouth. “I’m so sorry for the trouble.” I grabbed my bag and reached into the wallet pouch for cash. “Let’s just forget this whole thing.” I pushed a wad of twenties into his hand without stopping to count them. “We’re all okay, a little banged up, sure, but okay.”

I grabbed JW’s hand and pulled him up. He towered over the boyfriend and probably could’ve crushed him with one arm while carrying me away in the other.

“Have a great afternoon!” I told them warmly. Gripping JW’s hand, I pulled him in the direction of his car. The voluminous hood of my cover-up was soon up and over my head. I popped on my huge sunglasses and hoped I hadn’t been recorded for too long in HD. Triple damn.

The couple kicked up zero fuss. Glancing back, I saw them still happily counting money. I must’ve given them much more than I thought. (You’re welcome Jerry Springer couple. Thanks for the dust up.) Most of the people around us weren’t paying that much attention. Even so, all I could focus on were the phones, phones, everywhere. There were suddenly a million tiny cameras pointing in all directions, as far as my eyes could see. It freaked me out a bit.

“Where are you dragging me?” He sounded pretty amused, actually, for someone being man-napped. I’m sure he didn’t view me as a threat.

“Away from them!” I dropped his hand. I changed to a stage whisper, “You’re JW! Do you think anyone taped that? Photographed us?” It was in character for me to be paranoid, so I didn’t bother to keep the fear out of my voice.

“Maybe. Don’t worry about it. We didn’t do anything wrong.” He was laughing, very amused by the whole thing, now that we were away from them. “That was one of the funniest falls I’ve ever seen! You didn’t have to pay them off!”

“Look, I don’t need any attention today. I was just trying to take a walk on the beach. I need to get out of here.” I was ready with my carefully prepared sob story, but I was taking it nice and easy.

He had no questions. JW took back my hand and it was his turn to drag me. I guess being a commonly stalked celebrity makes you extremely sympathetic to those wanting to avoid surveillance. We were at his car in minutes and he was loading me into the passenger seat.

“Where to?” He started up the engine and drove away from the beach without waiting for my answer. His shirt allergy persisted.

“I don’t know. I need to think.”

“My place is about five minutes from here. I was going home for lunch. Why don’t you join me?”

Shit, he moves fast! “Um, ok.”

“Why’d you pay them off? You handed him like $400.” He turned the radio on R&B and I heard his ex-girlfriend’s voice rising up over the instrumentation.

“I saw a chick with a camera. I’m sure she recognized you. I didn’t want to bring you any trouble.” Here it comes, perfect back story ready.

“None of that’s any trouble. The tabloids will print anything, but pictures don’t lie. We didn’t do anything to them.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

“You know that’s right.” He paused and looked at me too long for someone driving. He turned back to the road. “You’re married?” He asked it so warily I knew I was treading on thin ice with my answer.

I went safe. “Engaged.”

“Where’s the ring?”

“Too big to wear to the beach.”

“You are beautiful.”

“Thanks, you too.”

He laughed and turned up the music.

His apartment was gorgeous and for a few minutes I couldn’t believe he took a total stranger there. Then I realized that this was a decoy home. He didn’t really live there. No photos anywhere. No personal touches. The whole place looked like an expensive hotel room. We went into the kitchen and I was shocked when he opened the fridge and there was food in it.

“I was planning a gluten free, egg white breakfast burrito. How does that sound?”

“Really healthy.”

“It is.” JW, still unapologetically topless, rubbed his hand up and down bulging abs. “Gotta keep up my figure.”

I could see around him, into the fridge, just enough to see something large and chocolate in there. “What else is in there?”

“Not much else…”

“I see chocolate.”

“That’s a surprise for later.” He shooed me away from him and pointed at a bar stool. “Sit and let me cook.”

We chatted about the weather while he made our meal. He put a little feta cheese and green olives into the eggs and it was delicious. It was tiny, though and quickly gone.

“Still hungry. What’s for dessert?”

“You’ll see.”

He cleared away the dishes and pulled me off the bar stool. JW started kissing me with his super soft, beautiful lips. Light feathery kisses, and not at all what I was expecting. I felt like fainting, my cretinous friends. He slow danced me to the other side of the kitchen island, the whole time smooching me sweetly. Mashing me against the high counter top with his forceful and amazing body his muscles took the weight off my feet for a second. It felt as if I were melting into him. He moved away from me for two seconds and managed to strip me bare. Lifting me off of my feet, he plunked my ass on the cold granite and pulled my knees both forward and wide apart. Everything was happening so fast that when he laid me back, down on the island, I figured he was planning on having me for dessert. Instead, JW stepped away leaving me nude and in exam position while he got the big glass bowl from the fridge. When he turned around I saw that it was filled with chocolate pudding.

“Do you mind?” he asked me with a bad little boy look on his face.

Taking my confused hesitation for assent he dumped half the bowl onto my open crotch.

“Go for it!” I tried for enthusiasm, and I was hoping for the best, but food up in my lady parts is on a short list of things I find yucky.

He did. Go for it, I mean. At first, JW acted like a man starved for pudding. He ate and ate, making yum noises. I just giggled. Then he started getting crazy with it, splattering it all over the kitchen multiple times by whipping his head around. Whenever I tried to get involved in the action, touch him or rock my hips, he would push my hands away and lay me back down on the island. Before finishing the thinning goop already all over me, JW dumped the rest of the bowl on my belly. Then he started doing this thing with his fingers. He kind of fluttered the pudding down from my belly onto my pussy. When I closed my eyes and forgot that I was being basted alive with an after-school snack, this part felt really cool.

Finally, JW started licking my inner sweetness. Only it wasn’t for any enjoyment on my part. He barely even grazed my clit. It really seemed like he was just trying not to miss any pudding. He was panting now between licks. All the while stroking himself vigorously through his shorts with one hand while I lay there, like a bowl. I felt a lot of things in that moment. None of them were orgasms. One of them was boredom.

He finished licking it all up then unceremoniously came on my ankle. I can only assume that these events were related, as I had almost nothing to do with either. His jizz had pooled and slid off me, leaving a trail of slime all the way down my foot.

“Thanks sugar pie,” JW panted out without even looking up at my face, his slimy pudding ear resting against my belly button.

“You’re welcome. And thank you.” I didn’t really trust my mouth after that weirdness, and I didn’t want to be rude, so I kept it short and sweet.

“Why don’t you go get a shower, baby. I’ve got some serious cleanup to do. Meet you in bed.” He said this in his amazingly sexy, stud of the century voice. I decided that I owed it to you, my TFP angels, to stick around and see if things might get better. I made for the shower hoping he’d join me soon.

Squeaky clean, I closed the heavy drapes against the midday sun and turned on both bedside lamps before crawling into a silk cocoon. These were the sheets of gods. I cuddled up with the softest pillow on earth and tried to wait. Shit, he was taking a long time cleaning up the kitchen! I drifted off into the world’s lightest sleep. This is a trick I mastered in my younger years for those special occasions when I didn’t feel particularly comfortable with the person sleeping next to me, but needed some shut eye. The slightest noise or movement alerts me.

JW strutted in wearing only a towel and I was suddenly fully awake. He had showered in another bathroom somewhere else, and smelled delicious. He turned off both lamps and climbed on top of me, growling like a tiger.

“You ready for more, baby?” He growled this directly into my ear and I was wet in less than a second. JW gave me a dry, closed mouth kiss that went on and on but didn’t seem to go anywhere. His hand went straight for my vagina. “Oooh. You’re already moist for me, let’s do this thing.”

What!? “Slow down, tiger. I’m not in any rush.” I purred this into his ear, hoping he’d take the blunt hint and at least make out with me for a bit. I hadn’t even been allowed to lick my favorite abs on the planet yet.

“I can’t wait, sugar bush!” He slid between my legs and his rubber covered cock nudged into me. “You are so hot.” He thrust all the way in (felt like five or six inches and really thick, sir) and I gasped from the suddenness of the entry. “You like that? Take it all, baby.”

He pumped up and down, in and out, his face hanging above me without any further kissing. He repeated ‘You are so hot’ and ‘Take that dick” a few times and then started to go fast, way too soon for me. I wrapped my legs around him and pressed my clit hard against his pubic bone, hoping that maybe I’d get ten or twelve more deep strokes; more than long enough for me to grind my own orgasm out. No such luck. He pulled out, removed the condom and knelt there, between my legs. In the semi dark I felt his wet issue splash onto my skin. He came on my ankle. Again.

“That was great baby!” He smacked my ass, and whistled a little tune as he pulled on his gym shorts. JW walked out of the darkened bedroom without another word.

I vowed that if he was bringing me back a water I’d throw it in his face. I laid there for a bit, reflecting on the success of my mission and the failure of my fantasy. Quickly determining that no water (or any other conciliatory gesture) was coming through that door, I re-showered quickly and got dressed. He still hadn’t returned to the room. WTF? How long can one man clean an island?

I ventured back out into the main space and called out, “JW?…JW?” There was no answer.

The kitchen was still disgusting with pudding spray. The island had a perfect spread ass print on it. My spread ass. I quickly checked the rest of the place. He had fled the scene. Not sure if tracing someone’s identity with butt cheek identification methods is even a thing, I found some cleaning supplies under the sink and wiped my ass print off the island with cleaning spray and paper towels anyway. Better safe than sorry. I had no idea who was going to have to clean up the rest of that shit, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me. Grabbing my Garcia bag on the way out the door, I noticed that it was marked up with brown wetness, stained with a foul mixture of creamy chocolate goodness and body fluids. Cursing my trip to the beach that day, I spent the ride home constructing new rules and policies to avoid such situations in the future. I may be off pudding for life.

My horny fangirl friends, please, do not gnash your teeth and curl up your vicious fists on my behalf. While it is true that JW behaved poorly, didn’t treat yours truly with respect or care, in no way does that mitigate my part in this little tragedy. I rushed the tip. I followed him blindly without making him invest any of himself and that rarely turns out well. Never just roll over and take the smallest crumb they give you. He never even asked for my name. I’ve never been called baby so much in my life! The only clear advice you should take away from this is to be careful what you ask for, and how quickly. They may dump dairy products into your cunt.

Have a hot tip about a celebrity or just want to reveal your darkest dreams about everyone’s favorite unattainable guy? Drop your big sister a line here, at TheTinseltownTemptress@tfp.mag. I had kid gloves on before gentlemen. Prepare yourselves for some rough handling from here on out.


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

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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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