Chapter 1: The Amazon
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Drunk/Drugged, Cheating, Group Sex, Orgy, Oriental Male, Oriental Female, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Cream Pie, .
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: The Amazon - A young writer finally gets his big break in Hollywood. This is the story of him leaving his life behind and finding past loves. Along the way, he is tempted by beautiful actresses and the allure of fame.
"Everybody comes to Hollywood. They wanna make it in the neighborhood."
Count me amongst "everybody." I grew up with visions of bright lights and brighter stars. Coming here and "making it" had long been a dream of mine. And those dreams would soon be coming true.
I was twenty-four when I sold my first script, a young, inexperienced writer who got really lucky. Last month at this time I was sitting on a folding chair eating leftover Chinese take-out with my girlfriend, err... ex-girlfriend. Now I was eating a filet mignon dinner that cost more than a hundred bucks a plate in the company of high-powered studio bigwigs. I was here. But that didn't mean that I'd made it yet.
This was the fourth power dinner I'd had in the last week with the director and executive producer to discuss the "vision" of the movie. It pretty much consisted of the two of them haggling back and forth over artistic integrity versus what would bring in the big bucks. Well, the movie was targeted as a big-budget blockbuster, so I was pretty sure artistic integrity would be going out the window shortly.
After the first round of drinks and appetizers I excused myself to the restroom. After freshening up I flipped open my cell phone and held down the speed dial to my ex-girlfriend. We were still friends, and she was happy to hear from me, and I filled her in on what was going on. She patiently listened to me vent my frustrations and then reassured me that everything would be alright in the end. We had been pretty close, even if not very serious about each other. So when the opportunity to come to Hollywood had arisen, we parted amicably and promised to keep in touch. Neither of us harbored any illusions about maintaining a long-distance relationship, especially not in Hollywood. Still, it was calming to talk to her again.
After a few lewd comments from me about old times and a laughing remark from her to avoid all the Hollywood hookers, I snapped the phone closed and strode purposely to my table. I was a Hollywood writer now... as long as the film didn't end up in development hell.
I had just gotten settled into my seat and re-entered the conversation when she walked through the door. My jaw locked up and my body went still. The two studio bigwigs stopped to see what I was staring at. My High School sweetheart. The beauty from my past, now in my present; and I had no idea what our future held.
HIGH SCHOOL, SIX YEARS AGO
My hands flew over the keyboard in a rhythmic rat-a-tat-tat while Andrea lounged on my bed, trying to finish our math homework. I should have been doing the assignment as well, but I hated Math with a passion, and I knew she'd let me copy her answers later.
I paused every now and again to stare at her, sprawled face down on my bed and propped up on her elbows as she read over the math book. Incredibly clear violet eyes were partially hidden behind stylish black glasses. I had never seen eyes of that perfect color, neither before nor ever since. Perfect cheekbones and a great complexion made her the envy of even the prettiest cheerleaders. A self-styled flower girl (it was a phase), she let her long dirty-blonde hair just fall straight, a daisy she'd picked that morning tucked behind an ear. A lifelong vegetarian, she munched on a carrot stick while I let my dirty mind get the best of me. The white lacy top was baggy on her thin frame, hanging a little loose at the neck to show off some very interesting cleavage. She never wore a bra. Some post-modern feminist thing, but I had no complaints. Skin-tight jean shorts hugged her ass and led down to luscious legs. Every so often, I would stop and ogle her just long enough to get my fill, but not quite long enough that she noticed and scolded me for staring.
I finished tweaking the general plotline and the main character bios, and I waved Andrea over to read what I'd written so far. It was an action-adventure in the Rain Forest, a kind of Indiana Jones meets Beverly Hills Cop, except with a female Axel, and a little of James Bond's girl-banging thrown in for good measure. The girl finds a map to a lost treasure and drags along her experienced adventurer friend. Hilarity and chaos ensues.
Andrea quickly scanned everything and then let out a sigh of barely concealed disgust. Her nose wrinkled as if smelling something rather foul.
"What do you think?" I asked.
"Where to begin?" She threw up her hands. "This plotline just panders to the masses. The heroine's boobs are bigger than her brains and she keeps getting herself into situations where the guy has to rescue her. Meanwhile, he keeps sleeping around with every other chick they meet, and it's unrealistic that the girl wouldn't care since you've written her to have a buried crush on the strong hero. The plot has bigger holes in it than the Titanic, and defies every point of logic."
"So, it's perfect as a Hollywood blockbuster."
"Unfortunately... yes..." She turned and flopped back onto my bed. "Don't you ever want to write a truly great work of art? Something with literary complexity and rich emotion? I mean, it's not like it would be such big deal nowadays to make the GIRL the hero with the big guns and acrobatics?"
"I need to get my foot in the door first. Give the Hollywood studio heads what they want. Then once I've got a few hits under my belt, I'll have enough power and freedom to write REAL stories."
"Hollywood? Why the hell would anyone want to work for a big-budget studio monstrosity? Hollywood is a cesspool of recycled garbage and casting couch sperm. That's why I'm going to Broadway. Someday I'm going to be a star. And you'd better be right there writing me the most amazing PLAYS."
We spent the next hour arguing over the motivation of the main characters and the choices they made. She seemed to find it somewhat ridiculous that the male hero was incapable of considering the consequences of his actions beyond the next five minutes. I tried to defend that aspect as part of his charm. Andrea just laughed and told me the hero was a moron, so he must have been modeled on me. She punched me playfully on the shoulder.
I just smiled and turned back to re-editing my script. Andrea was the ultimate theatre geek. She'd been in every school play since grade school and devoured the works of great playwrights at every opportunity. I'd joined the tech crew at the beginning of my freshman year just to meet people. We became casual friends rehearsing for that first school play, and found a connection with each other. She was loud, gorgeous, wild, opinionated, and absolutely fascinating. I'd developed a crush on her from the moment we met. In those days, Andrea was the most perfect woman on the planet. Line up every supermodel and famous actress alongside her, and I would pick Andrea every time. To this day I still don't know what she saw in me, though.
We had a few classes together, became study pals, etc. It took me almost two years to work up the courage to ask her out. When I finally did she just yelled at me for taking so long.
From that moment we were inseparable. My first French kiss had been with Andrea in my friend's basement. I had sneaked a hand to the outside of her boob before she slapped me away that time. Her developing curves had been the images of my every fantasy. My first love.
There had only ever been one bump in the road. A cute cheerleader, jealous of Andrea in that catty High School way, had decided to seduce me to prove a point. I knew what she was up to, and yet my brain short- circuited in the face of a set of round tits and tight ass. If I had one fatal weakness, it was that I had absolutely no control over myself if a hot woman started coming on to me. Fortunately Andrea came by my house to visit, and caught us before things got out of hand. The best part? Andrea's solution was to keep her boy always satisfied so I'd never need to stray.
One day, we had just finished up a very satisfying blowjob and I sat pecking away at my computer. Andrea was sitting in my lap, her head pillowed on my shoulder and staring past my ear. She asked me, "What do you want in this world, more than anything? What is your greatest desire?"
It took me a while to think about it, but I found the answer deep down in my gut. "To write something really special, something I believe in. And to share that with someone who is just as special to me."
Andrea sat back up and looked at me. "That's so cool. I only hope that I can find my own answer someday."
That had been months ago. And I was nowhere closer to finding that special story. But I worked on it every day.
So back in my bedroom, I was still wrapped up in my script, typing away, when Andrea declared that she was done with our homework. "Okay, pay attention to me now!"
"Hang on just a minute..." I kept typing. I should have known to turn around and pay attention to her. But I'm a guy. And I never said I was smart back then.
Then I felt her lips on my neck, soft pads rubbing and nuzzling at my sensitive skin. Damn that felt good. "Cheater..." I mumbled. Boys are just puppets on strings at that age.
She turned my head in her hands and then we were kissing, long, sloppy kisses of High School puppy love. As an eighteen year-old boy I knew enough to recognize an opportunity when I saw one, and seizing the initiative I picked her up and planted her on my bed, attacking her lips frantically.
Andrea was suddenly really aroused, and she reached down to whip her top off, tossing it into a puddle on the floor. Her perky tits were firmly upright and begging for my attention. I was still amazed every time I saw them, memories of over a year of attacking and being rebuffed before we got to second base. But by now we were comfortable with each other's body, and I immediately dove in to lick and squeeze and suckle.
She was moaning and groaning and I started to panic that she would raise the attention of my little sister in the room next door. So I moved up to press my lips to hers before whispering a desperate "shh..."
Her eyes were glowing as she nodded and then went to work undoing the clasp to her jeans. When she tugged the jeans and panties down to her feet, I stripped them off and spread her legs wide. We had gotten to the point where oral sex was a common event between us, and I was becoming quite adept in the art of cunnilingus.
She was shaved completely bare for me and she resumed her squirming and moaning as my tongue speared into her channel. I switched to nibbling on her clit and she clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream, tears dribbling from the corners of her eyes as she fought to restrain herself.
I figured a good way to keep her quiet would be to fill her mouth with something. So I stripped down in a hurry and then lay down on the bed next to her. She kissed me quickly, tasting her own fluids before climbing atop me in a sixty-nine, slowly taking my banana-bent cock into her mouth. I grabbed onto her ass cheeks and split her wide as I continued to eat her out, and was rewarded a few minutes later when she twitched and started gushing her honey out onto my lips.
When she'd recovered, Andrea stopped her tongue bath on me and turned around, grinning. I was panting and sweating myself and had been on the verge of eruption before she let go. With a wicked gleam in her eye, she held up a silver package. "Wanna do it again?"
We'd only had sex on two occasions before, and there was no way I was going to pass up an opportunity for a third time. For a moment I felt guilty pride at my relationship. Half of my friends were still virgins and none of them had ever had a girlfriend as pretty as Andrea. I just grinned and nodded my head "yes" while she proceeded to roll the condom onto my wet member.
Then Andrea lay back against the pillows and beckoned me to her. I paused from my reckless passion for a moment, kissing her tenderly while lining myself up. I held her hands in mine, our fingers interlocking tightly while my hips sought out that haven of paradise between her legs.
But once the head nudged its way in I lost all semblance of control and started to pound away at her, Andrea's sweet lips at my neck whispering dirty thoughts in my ear, my hips ramming into hers already at breakneck speed. I must have only lasted a couple of minutes before my face screwed up in a grimace and I was filling the condom with my juices. She had not been anywhere near a second orgasm yet.
The happy bliss that normally comes to a guy after orgasm never came, just a disgust at my pathetic performance. Weren't the super men supposed to be able to screw for hours on end? I groaned in half apology and buried my head into the pillow next to her head.
Andrea just chuckled and slipped me out of her, dropping the used rubber into my trash can. "Shh, you know I'm fine with that. As long as you've got more for me."
She resumed kissing me, her tongue massaging the sensitive pads inside my mouth even as her hand rubbed in my wet crotch. I just kissed back, my hands roaming along her toned body, squeezing her tight ass, stroking her legs, and cupping her pert B-cups in my palms. I was hard again within minutes, and Andrea was grinning as she slid a fresh condom onto me. "Thank god for teenage recovery. This time, I wanna be on top."
I lay back, staring at Andrea's heaving bosom as she straddled me. She was a warm, wet sheath of pleasure, and she apparently enjoyed being drilled quite nicely. We started thrusting against each other, every muscle tensing, sweat dripping, and always the wet slap of our hips clashing together. I lost myself in the wonderful rhythms of her tits bobbing up and down with our fucking and let the rest of the afternoon drift away...
Andrea and I had been joined at the hip since starting to date sophomore year. By the second day of dating we'd gotten inside each other's head to the point where we knew what the other was thinking and finished each other's sentences. I'd spent more than two years of my life sharing every experience with her, from the social climbing of the High School cliques to my anxious discoveries of the female form. I wanted to be with her forever.
Breaking up with her was one of the hardest things I'd ever had to go through. Andrea got a scholarship to Stanford and was moving to California. A part of me thought I'd never see her again. People didn't come back from California. But then I knew that she was always destined for great things. I would be attending the big University in-state, ready to major in Modern Lit and distinctly avoid any complicated Math for the rest of my life.
The summer after graduation was the happiest three months of my life. Realizing we were soon to be parted, our parents let us stay with each other almost every night. We stayed up all night just talking about nothing. We wrote stories and scripts together, enjoying the playful tug-of-war over characterization and artistic integrity. We made love like there was no tomorrow.
And then one day, there was no tomorrow. Andrea was gone.
We tried to stay in touch through college. But long distance things just don't work out when you're eighteen. Eventually we moved on, and I
spent half of my college years with my new girlfriend, Bethany.
The summer before my third year, I got an email from Andrea. My heart was racing from the moment I saw the sender's name. It was the first contact we'd had in nearly two years.
It turns out she was broadcasting a message to all of her High School friends, happily announcing that she'd been cast in a major Hollywood movie. I was very happy for her, but also a little confused. She had always struck me as the theatre type, shunning most of the Hollywood bullshit as she had so delicately put it.
But Andrea's success had a bigger impact on me. It made me realize that while she was making her acting dream come true, I still had yet to write a full-length script.
I had of course told Bethany about my High School girlfriend, and Andrea's acting aspirations. When the movie finally came out just before my fourth year, Bethany and I went to see it together. The movie turned out to be fantastic, and Andrea had grown up to be sexy as hell.
That night, Bethany decided to do a little reenactment of the movie's love scene, where Andrea's character had done a slinky strip-tease before attacking the male hero. The sex with Bethany was amazing, but with one unfortunate side effect. Every so often, Andrea's face from the movie would slip to the front of my mind, and I had to bite my tongue not to call out Andrea's name. I tried to focus on my new girlfriend. But in the end, my hardest orgasm came when I imagined that
I was spurting into my High School sweetheart.
A few months later, Andrea won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress. She had finally made it. It was time for me to catch up. As soon as I graduated, I sat myself down at my computer and began to type. And this time, I wasn't going to stop.
A couple of years after graduating, I was happily still a writer. I wrote movie reviews and other entertainment columns for the local newspaper, which let me work from home and afforded me plenty of time to keep tinkering with my script and waiting for the right opportunity. Everything I had ever researched about the movie industry told me that it was connections to the power-players that mattered more than how good of a writer I was. And I only knew one person in Hollywood.
Andrea had gone on to several prominent supporting roles, both in drama and critically popular independent films. But she had also started dating Roger Beckett, an up and coming action-film producer along the likes of Jerry Bruckheimer. I saw my chance to make it. Because in Hollywood, it's not what you know, it's WHO you know.
Word on the grapevine was that since hooking up with the guy, Andrea had been looking for an action script, something that would put her in a blockbuster movie and make her a household name. Beckett would be executive producing of course.
So I took a chance, and I called her agent. It took over an hour of worming my way through call-screeners and sitting on hold. No one seemed to believe that I was an old High School friend. So I just left my name and number, but only after getting a promise that my name would be delivered to her.
Twenty minutes later she called, delighted to hear from me. We chit- chatted for over an hour. She asked how my girlfriend was. I asked how her career was going. And then she dropped in the perfect question. "Still working on your script?"
"Always. In fact, it's just about done. You want to read the latest version? I think you'll recognize it."
"The same one."
"The script that pandered to the masses. The rugged adventurer hero and the rival adventurer heroine. The heroine has big boobs and the guy sleeps around, blah, blah, blah." I could almost see Andrea smiling on the other end of the line.
"So it would be a good Hollywood blockbuster?" I asked, hope in my voice.
"It might just be perfect."
I sent her the script, and Andrea showed it to Beckett. Two days later, I was off to California.
"The Amazon" started off as a smart and intelligent little adventure, with wit and charm galore. After a few rewrites with established Hollywood script-doctors, it resembled more of a big boobs and bigger explosions flick, but I couldn't seriously complain. I knew the rules. First you play along. Only when you've got your own power can you impose your will upon a script. The top dawgs like Kasdan and Kaufman could do whatever they wanted. It was frustrating, but my time would come eventually.
I was still in a state of shock when Andrea walked through the restaurant door. Time and Hollywood had only transformed her from a natural beauty into a gorgeous leading lady. Perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfect wardrobe. And her violet eyes locked onto me with an intensity that sent a shudder through my body.
Roger Beckett, the producer, and Anton Martin, the director, followed my gaze and smiled at seeing the female lead of their movie coming in. She dismissed her entourage and then made her way across the restaurant towards us. We all stood up when she arrived at the table, Beckett and Andrea sharing a short peck before sitting down.
Our leading actor arrived five minutes later, and the five of us delved into a heated discussion over how to create our Hollywood blockbuster.
The rest of the evening went by in a blur. I recovered enough to discuss the vision of the movie, arguing enough in preservation of my dreams, but knowing enough to back down when the producer demands control over how he's spending his money. Remarkably, Andrea still remembered almost everything from my vision of the script back in High School, and argued to keep my ideas very much intact for me.
Mostly, I found myself kind of staring at her. I hadn't seen her in six years, and I'd forgotten how beautiful she was. One of the men asked how we knew each other, and Andrea demurely replied, "We're old friends."
My heart was racing like a teenage schoolboy's, and I just smiled back at her, praying that no one else at the table noticed the electrical connection crackling between us. It was all I could do to pay attention to anyone else.
When the power meeting was over, Andrea and I stood up and exchanged warm hugs. Almost instinctively, I turned my head and started forwards to kiss her, but then backed off once I realized what I was about to do. Andrea similarly was backing her head away, her face flushed with momentary embarrassment and she glanced at Beckett to make sure he wasn't watching us.
Then, having made up her mind, she leaned in and kissed me on the cheek before turning away suddenly and striding towards the door in a major hurry.
I didn't start breathing again until she was out of sight.
I got to the office the studio had provided me for the duration of my contract. It was relatively large, well-appointed, and featured a decent view of the Hollywood Hills. There were already a dozen messages for me concerning this and that. I had now been in Hollywood for over a month, and we were still working on pre-production. The set designer wanted to revisit the bar scene. Beckett wanted to talk to me about adding another female boob-role. The list went on and on. But my schedule for the day had already been cleared. I was auditioning today.
Our casting director had screened through hundreds of actors and actresses for the various roles involved in "The Amazon." Once they made it through that selection process, however, the key roles had to be reviewed and approved by the director, the executive producer, and the writer, which meant me.
In most cases, the major roles had already been filled by name actors we had mutually agreed upon, but there were still a host of supporting characters to decide upon. The top three to five candidates, people who had already auditioned twice by now, were separately brought to me and then the director, and finally our producer.
To some extent this process became tedious very quickly. The wisecracking bartender, the strung-out junkie, the sage old boat captain. All of these characters had but a few minutes of screen time, but I certainly wanted the final actor to stay true to the picture in my head when I'd written the piece. Very rarely did anyone ever "get" the character I had envisioned. And while I felt sorry for some of these struggling actors, I despaired over having to pick the least BAD actor of the lot.
But then it came time to cast "Tina Woodbridge." The character was the classic Bond sexy-but-evil-girl. A tall blonde bombshell from Britain, the character was to seduce the main hero and in general, distract him away from his mission. She was, of course, a deadly fighter to boot.
Along with Andrea, this was going to be the woman that millions of teenage boys would be drooling over and be ready to pony up $9 per ticket to see. The right actress would be a relative unknown, with minimal previous acting exposure. This would be a breakout role. But at the same time, she had to exude sex appeal and athleticism, handle the accent, be the epitome of female physical perfection, and possess enough moxie to pull it all off in a big-budget movie.
The first girl I auditioned wasn't even close. And it took a monumental effort on my part to be polite throughout the entire audition. She definitely was a blonde bombshell, but this particular girl had the intelligence of a carrot. Her accents were horrible and I figured she would be good for nothing but eye candy. She tried to be flirtatious, but I was completely turned off by her and sent her off to the director for her next attempt.
The second woman to audition wasn't half-bad as an actress, and she definitely had the body for the role. Big, fake tits and a nice ass, long legs. A native Londoner, she had the perfect accent and the right amount of huskiness in her voice. She happened to be a brunette, but I didn't see that as a major problem for the movie. We role-played one of the scenes back and forth, with me in the role of the hero. While I found her both attractive and seductive, she seemed to be trying to seduce ME instead of the character, even going so far as to grope my crotch in the middle of a scene, which I KNEW wasn't in the script. She gave me a wink and a promise to "make it worth my while" if I could help her along in the auditioning process. Then off she went to seduce Anton Martin.
Now everyone who comes to Hollywood knows about the casting couch; but I had never really thought about actual opportunities for me. I was just dreaming about bending this hot Englishwoman over my desk and reaming her out when the phone rang.
I shook myself out of my reverie. It was Bethany, calling to say hi. We chatted amiably, the comfortable conversation of two people who had been around each other for more than four years. She whispered that she missed me, and momentarily wondered if we couldn't still work this out. I had to admit I missed her. Not only for her reassuring presence, but I hadn't been laid in quite a while. She laughed off her emotions on the fact that she wasn't used to being single anymore, and that our friendship was for the best. She didn't help tame my current arousal though, whispering suggestive thoughts in my ear and giggling before hanging up.
I found my Tina Woodbridge with actress number 3. The instant she walked through the door I knew she was the right one. Tall, lithe, and confident, Skye made her presence known. Blue eyes so pale they seemed gray pierced me with such intelligence, as if she were already studying me and determining how best to pick me apart. Golden hair with a silky shimmer cascaded down her back. She wore a tight-fitting black turtleneck and leggings ensemble that instantly reminded me of La Femme Nikita, and she glided across the room with the grace of a panther. When I said "hello" she merely inclined her head in response and slid into a wing chair facing my desk, crossing her long legs and resting both hands on the armrests.
I slid behind my desk to conceal a rapidly rising boner, and did my best to get the audition started. When she spoke, she had a distinctive European accent that I couldn't quite place, and immediately I started rewriting the character in my mind to fit Skye the actress. She carried herself with such confidence and maturity I was amazed to find out she was only 19 and after changing her name, she had come to Hollywood from Europe, along with her sister, to make it big in the American movie industry.
Her voice was intoxicating, and we flirted shamelessly for over an hour, until one of the studio secretaries had to come and tell me that she was late for her audition with Mr. Martin. We both stood up, and when I shook her hand in goodbye she leaned forwards and gave me a chaste peck on both cheeks, and then she was gone.
I got lunch with a fellow studio writer I'd become gradual friends with over the past few weeks. He asked how the audition process was going and more importantly, to him at least, whether I'd tapped into the wonderful world of the casting couch just yet. Apparently, he had bagged four different girls ("Grade AAA eggs, man..." as he put it) on the last project he'd done.
"And they weren't even expecting any promises in return. They just jumped into my bed and hoped for the best. We even cast one of them."
I mentioned that there were a few that caught my eye, and for the rest of the lunch I had visions of Skye twisted up in my sheets while staring deep into me with those brilliant eyes of hers.
When I returned there was only one audition left, but I was so wrapped up in my daydreams I didn't even check the name. So when the knock came at my door and I opened it, I felt pleasantly surprised. Skye was standing before me, her blue-gray eyes startling in their clarity, shining out and appraising me while I ran my gaze appreciatively over her perky tits and sculpted body. The only difference was that she'd changed into a new set of clothes, this time a flowing blouse and skirt combination.
"You're back! How were your other auditions?"
She smiled, and held a hand over her mouth coyly. "You must have me mistaken for my sister," she giggled in that intoxicating accent. "My name is Sienna."
My eyes must have goggled out but I picked up my schedule and scanned it hurriedly. There it was, same last name. I smoothly recovered, reaching out to shake her hand and welcome her in. "I just wasn't expecting you to be twins."
We started the audition, and read from a few of the scenes. It was then that I realized how impossible this was going to be to choose between Skye and Sienna. Both had the perfect grace and smoldering sexuality the role demanded. While Skye played the cool assassin with more edginess, Sienna brought out the warm sensuality in the seduction scenes.
Partly because I was already familiar with her sister, I was flirting with Sienna left and right, and at the end of the audition, Sienna gave me the same two-cheek kisses.
I finally got around to checking my messages. The one from Beckett about adding another boob-role had strict orders to not read until after I'd concluded my auditions, so I figured now would be a good time to catch up on it.
Lo and behold, Beckett was commenting about turning Tina Woodbridge into TWO different women. I was amazed at how he'd put together this proposal before even meeting Skye or Sienna. Kinda freaky... One of the twin assassins would be seducing our hero while the other was off pulling a job, and they would switch back and forth without anyone (including the audience) ever knowing there were two of them until the villain's motives were finally revealed. Even the movie credits would only list one name until after the release date.
It would take some rewrites, but we already had the perfect pair of twins. And I already had the new plot outlines in my head.
I was on the way to my hotel after work when my cell phone rang. My heart skipped a beat when Andrea's voice came on the other end of the line.
"Got plans for dinner?" she asked. I could feel the hopefulness in her voice.
"Uh, not really."
"Meet me at Cicero's. Twenty minutes. You car should have them in the nav system."
Then a click and line went dead.
It was a little presumptuous of Andrea to assume I had agreed. On the other hand, I already knew as soon as she asked that I was going to meet her. I guessed that she had known as well. I'd been loaned one of the studio's Baby Benz's, and it took me a moment to figure out how to ask the navigation system how to get to Cicero's.
It actually took me closer to half an hour to get there (I got a little lost), but I soon arrived at the posh bistro in the hills. The instant I walked through the door, her personal assistant came up to me and led me back to a private room. Behind a thick velvet curtain, Andrea was waiting for me with a cozy little Italian dinner. I was momentarily immobilized by her stunning beauty, but recovered after a moment to enter into the room.
The table was oriented to give us a view of the beautiful cityscape illuminated by the night lights. An attendant informed me that the window was mirrored on the opposite side so that no prying cameras could see into our room.
We got settled and Andrea gave me the usual Hollywood "air kiss" next to my ear while pressing her cheek to mine. I looked across at some delicious looking salad, breadsticks, and my favorite, classic spaghetti and meatballs. She just smiled while watching me scan the meal, and reached out a hand to my thigh. Nothing really sexual, just comfortable.
"So how have you been?" I asked. "We've got a lot of catching up to do." Meanwhile, I started to dig into the food, serving up a decent helping for Andrea before filling my own plate.
"I'm great. Busy, you know, but great. I'm so sorry I haven't called already before this. Got tied up on a shoot in Morocco."
"Man, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that one..."
She laughed, not a coy flirty giggle, but a full throated laugh that helped me let every last bit of tension between us melt away. For a few moments, I saw Andrea for my best friend and girlfriend from High School, just a vivacious, innocent, and idealistic girl. Bright violet eyes, her dirty blonde hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. Casual clothes to better blend in and avoid the paparazzi. And her smile was simply warm and engaging.
"You know that's one of the oldest jokes in Hollywood. You're going to have to come up with better stuff if you want to survive in this town. Come on, you're supposed to be a writer."
"I'll work on it."
We talked for the next twenty minutes or so, filling each other in on the little details of our lives. Her studies and blossoming career. My writing and the script. It was the same as when we were in High School. The easy banter back and forth, the little smiles and warm fuzzy feelings in my stomach. Then Andrea said something I never really expected to hear, and all those fuzzy feelings collapsed under years of questioning and confusion.
"I missed you."
"Well, I could tell," I muttered sarcastically. "That's why you stopped calling." I was surprised at the twinge of hurt in my voice. When we moved on in college, I had never really gotten closure with Andrea. In a way I never got her completely out of my system.
But before I could apologize for my tone, Andrea was already answering. "And I'm sorry about that. Times change. People change. And in the end I think it worked out alright." Her smile became a wistful half-grin. "But in six years, I've never found anyone else quite like you."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I just kept eating. My emotions were swirling around the possibilities of where this conversation could go. I also noticed now that she hadn't even taken a bite off her plate.
"In college everyone had their own thing going on. Then, after the Oscar, everyone treated me differently. I was this big Hollywood actress, so everyone either tried to attack me or kiss up to me. You were the last person with whom I remember being able to really be MYSELF."
I looked up, and Andrea was leaning towards me, staring right into my eyes intently. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and gazing into her face all the longing for and daydreams of Andrea came rushing back to me. I don't think a person ever really gets over that first love, and the emotions were threatening to overwhelm me.
"I have never felt as happy and content with my life since the time when I was with you," she half-whispered, her voice tense with the emotion.
Andrea reached up and brushed the back of her hand across my cheek. The last time she'd done that was the day she'd left for California. These emotions were hitting me so fast, I couldn't keep up. And as I felt a tear of my own rolling down my cheek, suddenly we were back in my bedroom, just a couple of teenagers madly in love and with our entire lives before us. Nothing existed except to create our own momentary happiness before age and responsibility took it all away.
Then I felt her lips on my neck, soft pads rubbing and nuzzling at my sensitive skin. Damn that felt good. "Cheater..." I mumbled.
And then I was inhaling her sweet scent while I felt her moist lips massaging mine. And then my tongue was pressing into her mouth, exploring those depths as if they were new and unknown while my hands cradled her head to me. All of the memories of teenaged lust and those first joyous moments of rounding the bases with a girl came racing through my brain. We were kissing like it was the most amazing and sweetest treasure, the way it was before sex or breasts got involved. And when I finally pulled away, Andrea's skin glowed with happiness and arousal, her violet eyes shining back at me.
Then there was a loud clatter of plates crashing to the ground somewhere out in the main dining hall, and then the walls of my bedroom disappeared to be replaced by the thick velvet curtain and walls of our private room at Cicero's.
Andrea was suddenly lost, her eyes wild. She slumped down with her forehead planted against the palm of one hand as she leaned onto the table with her elbow, trying to sort out her situation. "Oh god. If a waiter had seen that it would have been a field day. The gossip columns would have been all over me."
I was just too stunned to say anything. My heart had been pounding, my attraction to Andrea overwhelming any other rational thought. But then she was picking up her purse, mumbling a goodbye to me while simultaneously trying to flee the restaurant as quickly as possible without looking too harried.
And then I was alone in the little room, with nothing but my thoughts and an incredible boner. God it had been a long time since I got laid.
No matter how hard I tried, every single memory of Andrea and me exploring our budding sexuality as teenagers popped into my head. I had to work to concentrate on the road just to make sure I didn't crash on the way back to my hotel, and resolved to myself that I was going to have to rent a porno from the hotel or something and relieve myself before I would be able to sleep. Maybe Bethany would be up for some kinky phone sex or something.
But first, I needed a drink.
I wandered into the hotel bar, sat myself in a barstool and ordered a stiff cocktail. I had just tasted the first burning gulp when a husky voice with an intoxicating accent said, "Hello Mr. Writer."
I turned my head to see Sienna (or was it Skye?) sidling up to me on the next barstool. Taking a guess by the warmth of her greeting, I guessed, "Well hello... Sienna?"
"Very good!" The way she said that was NOT helping to relax my erection. Thank god I was sitting down. "I know you probably can't tell me, but how are the auditions going?"
Ah, that explained why she came up to me. "Oh, well, they're going fine, actually. We'll probably be making our final decisions tomorrow." That was real enough, and not exactly the most sensitive of information. But I knew I couldn't say anything about the rewrites I'd been planning for Sienna and her sister.
Sienna picked an olive out of her martini and ran it around her lips, her tongue ever so slightly poking out to lick at it. Damn she was going to be good for the seduction role. "But I don't suppose you could tell me how I'm doing?"
I grinned, expecting that type of question. "Everything looks great from where I stand. But I do have to consider every actress carefully." This was true enough, for all I knew, the new plot idea might not work out, and we could only cast one Tina in that case.
She reached out and slipped an arm through mine. "Would you walk with me? You cannot blame a girl for trying to plead her case."
She was steering me away from the elevators that led up to my room, so I saw no real harm in just taking a walk. We moved through the lobby and directly outside. The evening air was comfortable, and we started walking along the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I was quite the movie buff, and Sienna kept up a constant warm chatter asking me questions about the various stars and famous locations we came across. She was definitely showing off how quickly and easily she could make a person comfortable with her, and I hoped that it would come through onto the screen.
Of course, the character I had in mind would be warmly seductive right up to the point where she stabbed you in the back, or otherwise extracted what she wanted out of you.
Without realizing it, we'd actually gotten quite a ways away from my hotel. It would take at least a half an hour to walk back. I mentioned that it was getting late and we should probably get a cab or something.
Sienna just waved me off and then pulled out a slender cell phone. "I have a car nearby."
She pressed a hand to her other ear and turned away slightly while on the phone, then said a few short phrases in her native tongue and then gave them our location. Less than five minutes later a black stretch limo pulled up to the curb.
This was quite posh for a poor, recently-arrived actress. A gentleman stepped out of the front passenger seat, and said a few things to Sienna in something that sounded like German. He was sharply dressed in a black tuxedo complete with white gloves. I couldn't see the driver, but he appeared to be in the same formalized tuxedo.
We were led back to the rear door, and I climbed in after Sienna into an interior with very plush leather upholstery and soft carpeting. The attendant closed the door and returned to the front seat, and then we were off.
As soon as the limo started rolling, the doors simultaneously locked, and then Sienna was in my lap and shoving her tongue down my throat. My eyes flew wide in surprise but then I found my oversexed body reacting to her already, my lips mashing against hers and my arms wrapping around this nubile young woman.
Even as Sienna kissed me fiercely, her hands were busy undoing my belt and then the clasp of my pants. For a few moments my reconnections with Andrea flashed into my head, but then Sienna was kneeling on the floor and all those thoughts went flying away with the passing lights as I felt my cock sucked into her hot mouth. I really had no control before a hot babe. Besides, it wasn't like Andrea and I had gotten back together or anything. I was a free man.
I was suddenly squirming in my seat, my body lost to conscious direction as my hips jerked and tried to shove more of my meat down Sienna's throat. She held hard to her lip lock about me, her tongue smothering the head with her warm saliva while a perfectly manicured hand began to pump along the length of my shaft.
Her head bobbed up and down in a steady rhythm, the tight ring of her fingers following as if to coax my release out of me. My eyes rolled back from sheer pleasure as pent-up desire was overwhelming me. Her mouth was a powerful suction and all too quickly I felt the tell-tale strain in my legs as my balls readied to relieve their tension. I groaned out loud and then Sienna slurped me into her mouth powerfully, shoving more and more of me into her until her nose was nearly pressed against my navel, deep throating me as far as I would go.
And then I exploded, a hot gush of my cum that blasted forth and poured directly down Sienna's throat. Her eyes were tearing up as she stared at me, fighting the urge to gag to let my juices fill her belly. She swallowed quickly, but I had built up such a reservoir in the past few weeks that she finally had to pull me out and let the last few shots burst into her face.
When my hip tremors had subsided, she licked up what she could but kept jacking me off. With her other hand, she started to undo the buttons to her blouse and unsnapped her skirt. And while I watched enraptured by this beautiful young girl revealing herself to me, she slipped off the blouse and dropped the bra onto the seat next to her, then shimmied out of both her skirt and panties, leaving this platinum blonde wearing nothing but high-heels and a smile.
The sight of her round, perky tits hanging out, nipples at attention and top-shelf ass had me reviving in no time, aided by Sienna's return to bathing my sleeping soldier with her tongue. Meanwhile, at her direction, I stripped myself until we were both effectively naked in the limo.
I stole a glance out the window. We should have arrived at the hotel a long time ago, but instead I saw the magnificent lights of the city far below us. We were driving up into the hills and I had to pay attention not to lose my balance as the limo began to turn left and right with the bends in the road.
Once Sienna was satisfied with my hardness, she turned to the rear- facing seat behind her, planting herself on all fours and shoving that heart-shaped ass back at me. The puffy pink folds between her legs called out to me, and I got to my knees behind her, holding her hips with one hand while bracing myself against the car wall with the other.
She was trembling with anticipation, her head turned to watch me while her long hair hung loosely off the opposite shoulder. And then all of her trembling stopped as she felt my other head penetrating into her from behind, the shaft smoothly gliding into her until my hips pressed up against her butt-cheeks. I focused in on the sensations dancing across my sensitive skin, and the ripples of pleasure shooting through me as I slowly backed out and then pressed in once again.
Sienna was moaning softly with every thrust, resting her arms on the seat before her, her head pillowed against them as she bent at the knees to shove her body back and forth at me, mumbling erotically in her own language.
As her pussy stretched out gradually and became more lubricated we found it easier to thrust in and out, and progressively we moved faster and faster and faster, driving myself deeply into her with every thrust. Sienna's moans were becoming louder and harsher as we picked up speed, and eventually our bodies were flailing at each other as fast as we could go, one of my hands on her swinging boobs and the other on her ass even as we were tossed from side to side by the swerving motion of the limo.
And then Sienna was crying out her climax, a gasp of mixed relief and pain as her hips were trembling once again around me, a new coat of fluids pouring down to where our bodies were coupled.
I stopped thrusting while she fought to recover, gasping for breath and tears in her eyes from the exertion. She slid forwards, popping my hardness out of her, and turned around, slumping into the seat. She reached a hand out to a side wall to brace herself against a particularly sharp turn, and then reached down to spread the lips of her honey pot wide, showing off the glistening moisture in the overhead light.
"You want to taste?" They were the first words of English she had spoken since entering the limo.
I just nodded yes.
"Lie down," Sienna ordered. And I was all too ready to comply. I turned and lie flat on my back, my head closest to her while she picked her way across the floor until she could straddle my chest. Sinking to her knees, I had the perfect view of her firm tits, flat stomach and perfectly shaven mound. Ah, the physical perfection of youth. She scooted forwards until her budding clit was within reach of my tongue, and I stretched out to feed on her nectar.
Sienna's thighs clamped around my head as soon as my tongue touched her, and she quivered with excitement as I continued to eat her out. My entire world had shrunk down to the view before me, wet, juicy pussy and honey-sweet flavors. I looked up to watch Sienna's face contort into grimaces and grins of ecstasy as I worked the best tongue magic I could think of. She seemed to giggle, but I couldn't hear a thing with her legs pressed against my ears.
And then I saw a white glove reach forward and tenderly caress Sienna's swollen breast, and then another glove, reaching around to similarly cup the other breast. My eyes went wide in surprise, but Sienna just grinned happily at the new stimulation. This was really freaky...
And then Skye popped her head into view. She grinned down at me, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo. She must have been the driver I
couldn't see, and I realized the limo was no longer moving. Sienna backed off just enough so Skye could lean down and press her lips to mine.
I could get to like "freaky"...
And then as Skye backed away, Sienna was sliding her hips back into my face so I could resume my feeding upon her, and I felt a new warm mouth descending upon my upright dick behind her.
Sienna bucked her way to a new orgasm on top of me, coating my face with even more juices while Skye proved to be Sienna's equal in the art of fellatio. And just when I thought I was about to explode into the second twin's mouth, I felt the cool air blow over my rod as Skye pulled her lips off of me.
My hips twitched in an overwhelming sense of pleasure withdrawal, but a minute later my dick was rewarded for its patience as I felt the hot, wet sensation of Skye sinking my rod inside her version of paradise.
The two of them kept up their dual assault upon my senses until Sienna crashed over into yet another climax, courteousy of my worn out tongue, and then she slumped off of me, sitting on the floor beside my head. My brain nearly went into shock watching two identical sets of naked bodies heaving with exertion, flushed with arousal, and sweat beading on taut skin. Skye was undulating as if in a trance about my shaft embedded inside of her, panting with lust as her bosom heaved up and down with her movements. Sienna lay just a couple of feet away, similarly panting in recovery from her recent orgasm, her identical round tits heaving up and down as she fought for breath.
Skye's hip rotations were becoming jerkier and harder, straining urgently at the border between pleasure and final release as she carved out every corner of her pussy with my shaft. At the moment of truth she leaned down, shoving her tits in my face as her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm, her hot flesh writhing atop me and bringing me to the boiling point of my own final release.
Sienna read the strain on my face and said something sharply to Skye, who recovered enough to pull me out of her spasming box and plant her face just inches away from my waving member, already bulging at the seams. Sienna's face joined her a moment later, just in time for my ejaculation to blast forth and splatter Skye just above her eye.
Skye took a hold of my spurting cannon and directed it to at her sister, letting a few shots splash Sienna in the face before coaxing out the last bits of my spunk towards her open mouth. And when my weary body sagged into the carpet, my head lolling back to relax my neck, these two nineteen-year old vixens promptly began to clean up my crotch with their tongues.
The casting couch may have some moral flaws in it, but there was no way these two were NOT getting cast if I had anything to say about it. I was going to cast them anyways, right?
When I'd recovered, both Sienna and Skye joined me on a seat to cuddle up in a hot pile of flesh and look over the amazing view. The bright lights shone out below us in a mesmerizing pattern against the inky blackness of the valley. After a few minutes, Skye barked something into the intercom, then the limo started up again and began the slow drive back to the hotel. Skye was engaging in a tongue battle with me while Sienna's nimble fingers went to work in my lap. I was happy; and we had a good bit of time before we got back into the city.
The casting meeting I had with Beckett and Martin went smoothly. They agreed with most of my top choices for the various roles and of course everyone thought casting Sienna and Skye for a dual role "Tina" was a fantastic idea. I looked forward to working with them again.
And so I was banished for the next week, holed up in my hotel room or my office just writing and rewriting. Andrea wasn't returning my calls, but a part of me knew to just give her time and space and we would be able to figure out a working relationship for this project we both cared about so much.
I was also pleasantly distracted, as Sienna and Skye decided to thank me for my assistance in getting them their roles, which culminated in a dual blow job and sexual romp around my office.
I was a Hollywood hot shot now, and I was just playing the game the way it was meant to be played in this town. In the next few weeks, in this particular state of mind, I found it amazing how much easier it was to write my callous, rugged hero. He was strong, manly, and could bed a woman and forget about her the next day, the perfect Hollywood male role.
Much of the pre-production was already complete, and our shooting schedule had begun. The second team was on location filming stunts while the principals were on the studio sets. I figured it best to come down and watch how my screenplay was panning out. Andrea had returned to her normal sunny disposition, eager to recapture our old friendship while strictly avoiding any mention of our illicit kiss in Cicero's back room.
One day, after a busy but fruitful day of shooting, a production assistant came up to me and informed me that Andrea needed to talk to me in her dressing room at the set. I navigated my way through the halls, eventually arriving at her door. I knocked sharply, and heard her call out "Come in!"
My view was immediately taken up by the vanity table and big mirror with the row of light bulbs around it. Then some motion to my left caught my eye and I saw Andrea emerging from the bathroom, a billowing cloud of steam following her out through the door. Her dirty blonde hair looked almost brown while wet, and it was slicked straight back tight against her scalp and the back of her neck. Her violet eyes were shining in the dim light. She wore some satin-shiny robe of a very thin material that was slightly damp in spots wherever her hair dripped onto it. The lower hem of the robe barely extended below her waist, giving me a fantastic view of her long, shapely legs. Her skin was still glowing from the heat of her recent shower, and I had to fight to keep my thoughts strictly PG.
She took one glance at my crotch and stated, "It's good to know I can still turn you on." Then she gestured to a comfortable La-Z-boy in the corner. "Have a seat."
I sat down, watching her move, wondering what she wanted to talk about, and hoping that she was ready to stop avoiding me. She slid into the makeup chair, crossing her legs. It was too brief for me to see anything, but I got the distinct impression that she wasn't wearing anything underneath that robe. Her body was also rapidly cooling in the air, hard nipples poking out prominently through the thin fabric. I immediately started to wonder, was she doing this on purpose?
"I've been avoiding you, I know. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."
"No, it's not. We go way back and this isn't how I'm supposed to treat an old friend. It's just that seeing you again stirred up all these old... feelings as well. Feelings I wasn't ready for." Andrea smiled, her eyes drifting off into a corner as she turned her thoughts inside her own head. "Too many fond memories."
She had been the one to call me here, so I just gestured for her to continue, to say what she had to say before I jumped in.
"But that was a long time ago. We both have new lives, new responsibilities. And I can't let our past ruin this movie. But I know the friendship we had can really make this project something special. That's really all I wanted to say. I just wanted to let you know that I can handle 'us' if you can."
"I can handle it."
"Good!" She stood up and reached her arms open. I stood up to join her and let her give me a warm, friendly hug. "It really is great that you're here."
I just nodded my sentiment in return, fighting down every impulse to seize Andrea and embrace her the way we did in High School. The simple knowledge that the only thing separating me from her fantastic body was this thin, flimsy robe threatened to drive me mad. But I held it together, and we parted as friends.
After a month of shooting and working together on the script, I figured that we had finally made it through our connected past and be able to focus on a friendly relationship now. A part of me still wanted her, to be sure, but she was with Beckett, my BOSS. He could fire me in an instant if he knew. Andrea and I had the occasional lunch together, and hung out socially in groups. I was amazed at how confident and aristocratic she had become with her success, at times bordering on diva behavior. I came to see Andrea as a new person, different from my High School sweetheart and I no longer had such a difficult time keeping my piece in my pants around her.
Sienna and Skye, on the other hand, were constantly teasing every male (and a few females) on the set, until they had most of the production crew eating out the palms of their hands. Every time I saw them they greeted me with big hugs, wet kisses, and plenty of groping. I saw it as all in good fun to play around and flirt, but it was a pain to try and make my erection go away afterwards. The best part, though, was that as actresses they proved to be spot on their marks. Every note, every emotion, every line. I knew they would be stars.
After the first month of shooting, the whole production had transported to Hawaii for location shooting. The jungles of Kauai would stand in for some of the Amazon's rainforest. The air was hot and humid, and I found myself spending most of my time inside one air-conditioned trailer or another.
Andrea was on take thirty of a verbal fight with her co-star, laced with sexual innuendos. Their banter had a smooth rhythm as they prodded at each other while simultaneously dropping hints of attraction, all the while internally denying that same attraction.
Her khaki cargo shorts had been artificially stained to match the rigors of a jungle hike. The white tank top had become a little damp in the moist air, and clung to the curves of her body like a second skin. A dark green short-sleeved shirt hung open from throat to tails over the tank top, but concealed very little of her fit body. With her ponytail bouncing with her every movement, Andrea very much looked the part of a young, athletic adventurer.
According to Andrea's character back-story, she'd had a teenage crush on the slightly older action hero, and was stubbornly trying to force him to see her as an equal adventurer now that she had grown up. She had run away from him when she was young, and was now trying to get back into his life.
Meanwhile, he found himself attracted to her, despite their previous mentor-student relationship and was constantly fighting with his own inner demons about being attracted to someone he knew as a child.
Forbidden love always made for the best drama.
But in any case, Anton Martin, the director, was never quite happy with the scene. This was supposed to be an emotional turning point for the two stars, but the emotions and chemistry were never quite there. "Stop holding back!" he yelled at the both of them.
Finally, the male lead just quit, screaming that he was sick of this and going back to his trailer. Martin sighed, and called it a day. Then he spotted me and ordered Andrea to work out the lines with me. If we had to change them, fine. But make it work.
And so we were herded into Andrea's trailer with a couple copies of the script and a lot of white-out tape. I settled into a chair while she flopped onto the couch, her brow furrowed as she looked over her lines.
"I don't want to do this. Can't we just take this angle out from their relationship? Just let it be like it always was?"
I sighed. "You know I can't take the relationship out. The sexual tension between them is one of the big audience-pleasers in this story. Everyone wants to see them together in the end, but that means that they've got to get over their respective hang-ups first. If you've got a better scene to move that along, I'm open to suggestion."
"I don't have any. I just don't... it doesn't feel right. I don't know IF I can DO this."
This was really the first time I'd ever seen Andrea back down from anything. She had always been the person who could accomplish whatever she set her mind out to do. So either this role was something she couldn't handle, or there was something else in it that was bothering her. "Let's just try this line by line. Ad-lib around it. Let's just see where the scene naturally takes you and I'll do my best to keep up."
"Fine... I'm a professional. I can do this." Andrea sat back upright and glared at me, doing her best to see through me to the male lead character. We zipped through the "I'm not a little girl" argument easily enough, to where the hero grudgingly conceded that she was a capable adventurer in her own right.
My line: "It's just that I don't want to see you hurt."
Andrea: "I won't stay behind. Not ever again."
"You CAN'T come with me. We might not survive."
"But I WON'T be separated from you again. I was a stupid little girl before. I thought I had all the time in the world..." And Andrea choked up for a moment, then looked away, her face contorted into an ugly frown while I watched her eyes wavering as her focus had turned inward to her own thoughts.
Then she looked right at me, wild emotions swirling in her eyes as she read the next line without looking at the page. "I was lonely without realizing it. And when I saw you again, only then did I realize how much it hurt not having you around." She sniffed, holding back tears, and only when a single drop escaped and ran down her cheek did she finish the line. "I don't want to lose you again." And then, in accordance with the script, she leaned forwards and pressed her lips to mine, the first kiss between our main characters.
But now my head was swimming. The same raw power of our first kiss was exploding in my head. Was Andrea still in character or was she talking directly to me? Did I really write that? Did I have Andrea in mind when I wrote that? My brow furrowed I focused on the next line before me. Maybe this confusion would just go away if I kept to the script.
Andrea pulled back, looking at me curiously and I said, "Stop, stop. We can't do this. It isn't right." A half second later I realized those were the same words as my next line.
She glanced at her script, grinning at the next line before looking right at me, her eyes shining. "But I want it. And I know you do too."
Shakespeare it ain't. But those simple words ran right through my heart. I wanted her so badly. The buried feelings and the quiet emptiness in my heart ached for me to hold this beautiful woman before me. Here, finally, I could find a resolution to the years I spent apart from my first love. But it wasn't right. And my logical mind made one last ditch attempt to say so. I dropped my script pages to the floor, doing my best to harden my heart and then said, "But-."
I didn't get any further with my objection because Andrea tackled me off of my chair to land with a thud on my back. And then all objections flew out of my head as we were kissing, praying that neither of us would suffer a crisis of conscience this time.
The scripted scene more or less ended here, fading to black and letting the audience fill in the blanks themselves. But we had no intention of stopping to redo the scene. We were both in such a tremendous hurry. We had to start fucking right away before either of us could change our minds.
Andrea's tongue was dipping into my mouth while I sucked on it, her upper torso crushing into my chest while her hands were busy trying to tug her adventurer's cargo shorts down. My hands were similarly focused on getting my jeans undone, until I managed to yank them to my knees. With her eyes blazing, Andrea kicked her shorts and panties off into a corner of the trailer and pulled my stiff rod up through the flap in my
boxers. My eyes questioned what we were about to do, but before I could say anything, she kissed me fiercely, locked my joystick into a vertical position and then sank me into her slit as deep as I could go. She was so wet that I was completely embedded in that first thrust.
Too late now to think about responsibilities or consequences. All that was left was my lust for Andrea and hers for me. Our hips were trembling against each other, overflowing with nervous energy as my rod twitched inside of her. We lay like that for a few minutes, just kissing softly and enjoying the mind-blowing sensations of being joined together with our first love.
And when we finally broke for some air, Andrea just grinned at me and started to pump her hips. "We're not teenagers anymore. I hope you've improved your stamina."
I just smiled right back. "I'd be happy to show you."
The floor of the trailer was hard, but if my characters could do it on the rainforest dirt, we could manage. The familiar rhythms were coming back to me along with the familiar whimpers escaping Andrea's mouth. She continued bouncing in my lap, her juices pouring out of her body and soaking my boxers beneath her. I reached my hands up and past the green shirt, lifting the hem of her tank top and roughly pushing it above the bouncing orbs of her bosom. Six years had only made them rounder and fuller than I remembered them, without a trace of sag. The nipples were extended forwards, calling my fingers to tweak and squeeze at them just they way I knew she liked.
Andrea gasped in response, "Oh, that's it honey..."
I let one hand play upstairs and moved the other hand to rub at her budding clit. She stopped her vertical bouncing and began to just shift her hips back and forth to accommodate my questing fingers, her eyes fluttering with the jolts of energy emanating from her nether regions. I saw the telltale signs of an impending Andrea orgasm, surprised that I still remembered them.
I sat up to take a breast into my mouth, suckling on the end while my other hand caressed the other. I could only hold this position for so long while continuing to manually stimulate Andrea, but only needed to hold it for a little while before she spasmed in my arms, biting down against a cry of ecstasy and flooding my lap with a new wave of her orgasmic fluids.
When she came down from her high she looked right at me and smiled, relief at the release of our interpersonal tension as well as the physical release of her orgasm. I took this as my cue, and scooping her ass up in my hands I lifted her half-naked body onto the couch with her crotch half hanging off the front end. I whipped my wet boxer shorts from my feet and lined myself up at the entrance to Andrea's pleasure box, my hands on the couch as if to do a push up over her body. My feet straining on the floor to maintain traction, I eased myself downwards and forward to sheath myself in her once again.
Andrea lifted her legs up to wrap around my back even as she leaned against the sofa cushions, her hips rising up to reach me and her body contorted into a tight curve like an armadillo as I leaned into her to get maximum penetration. With one hand on the armrest for balance and the other grasping at Andrea's sweaty body, I pulled back and then rammed myself forth to powerfully drill into her.
Andrea wailed in unison with my grunts of exertion, her eyes tearing up as if in pain as my tempo began to increase. I was fucking her harder and harder, Andrea clutching me to her and whimpering in my ear with every thrust.
"Fuck me... Fuck me!..."
I intended to do just that. Her inner muscles squeezed and gripped me tightly as I carved out every nook and cranny inside of her, every scrape of the end of my shaft sending sparks of pleasure into both of our brains.
Her hair had come loose and several bangs were falling over her wild eyes. Her mouth was permanently gaping open as she gasped and moaned. I felt the sweat dripping down my face and burning into my eyes, and my own grunts were joining in odd harmony with Andrea's higher pitched sounds of lust.
We were pushing each other to higher and higher levels of ecstasy until we both knew we were making too much noise. I finally hit the point of no return, my hips pumping into her erratically for a few moments before I slammed in and held myself there, emptying both barrels in a single shot that slugged into Andrea's pussy, blasting a wave of hot liquids that was soon intermingled with a rushing wave of Andrea's climax roaring out to meet it.
She screamed for a brief moment, so loud I nearly went deaf before she clamped down and bit my shoulder, HARD, to muffle herself. I groaned with the exertion of my release, reveling in the riotous waves I felt deep inside of her.
And then we were both spent, utterly exhausted. She slumped sideways to lie across the couch and I fell atop her, my cock slipping out followed by a veritable tidal wave of fluids pouring out of her steaming pussy.
WE were back.
And we had another three months in Hawaii to discover each other again.