Stroke Story

By MichaelD38

DISCLAIMER AND AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This story is a complete work of fiction and a satirical one at that. Although numerous real people, places, and organizations are referenced here, the actions described herein are entirely fictional. No relationship exists, is intended, or should be inferred. If you're one of these people, go read "Hustler v. Falwell" before calling your lawyer, okay?

This work contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity, and anyone offended by such things should read no further. If reception of this work is illegal due to your age or other repressive local regulations, liability for downloading it is your problem, not mine. This work is intended solely for the quiet and private enjoyment of adults, and any other use is a violation of the copyright. Reposting and archiving is permitted, except where a fee of any sort is required or earned for access (including banner-funded sites and fee-based age validation methods), provided this disclaimer and note remain attached to the story. All other rights are reserved.

To the faithful reader: This is another satirical piece like "Playing with Fire" and "The Long and the Short of It." Make of it what you will. You may suspect while reading this that I have some connections to the movie biz, and you'd be right. There are some subtle references in here that you may miss if you don't follow Hollywood that closely. But let me reiterate: This a work of fiction, not a gossipy roman à clef.

One other thing: To whoever posted that request for smoking- related stories in a.s.s.d a week or two ago--there are a couple of post-sex smoking scenes in here. Enjoy. <g>

STROKE STORY

I was having a good dream. Really. I was on Letterman with Demi Moore; we were having a good time, cracking jokes, talking about that movie we did a few years back. I was funnier than Dave, and I could tell he was getting annoyed. Letterman said something about how that article in "People" might come back to haunt me, and I said, "Hey Dave, at least the girls who stalk me don't look like they crawled out from under a rock," and everyone laughed. Demi even leaned over and suggested we get together later, what with Bruce out of the way now.

Then I woke up.

Or rather, someone woke me up. I lifted the pillow off my face, seeing a long cascade of blonde hair swinging around as the head it was attached to sat up. The girl stretched, standing up, and I admired the rear view, the tight little curves of her naked butt as she stood up in front of the window. It was early, but I could still see some kids out surfing. She turned around, and the front view was pretty nice, too. Her tits were fake, but the doctor had done a good job with them.

"Hi."

"Hey," I groaned.

"Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"Where's your friend?"

"In the shower. I was about to join her." She grinned. "Wanna come?"

I stretched out in my king-sized bed, popping a few joints.

"In a minute. What was your name again?"

"Stayci. With a 'y' and an 'i.'"

"And your friend?"

"Jessica."

"Oh. Yeah."

I watched her walking into the bathroom, and the previous night came back to me. I'd met them at some club back down PCH in Pacific Palisades. They were cute, but nothing unusual. Most days in Malibu, you can throw a rock at the beach and hit ten of them.

I climbed out of bed, stepping on last week's copy of "People." "The Sexiest Man on Earth." Gawd. The copy wasn't mine; these two minxes had had it, and asked me to autograph it before suggesting we come back here.

When I walked into the bathroom, Stayci and Jessica were in the big walk-in shower together, soaping each other up eagerly. The glass tile made it a little hard to see, but it looked like they were having a lot of fun. Jessica was a near carbon-copy of Stayci, except she had red hair.

I took a long piss and stepped over to the shower door. The two girls were holding each other, Stayci playing with Jessica's tits, Jessica with her hand between Stayci's legs. They both looked at me, smiling lasciviously, and kissed, watching my reaction.

I was hard before climbed into the shower with them, and harder afterward. They pulled me to them, and I kissed one, then the other, groping at random breasts and buttocks. Stayci dropped to her knees, taking most of me into her mouth. She gulped, pulling me closer, and swallowed what was left. She had done this repeatedly last night, and though she claimed to be a model, I had begun to suspect she might also have done some time as a porn actress.

As Stayci deep-throated me, I played with Jessica. She was wet and soapy, and I could feel the bags of silicone in her tits. I slipped a finger between her neatly trimmed labia and began masturbating her.

I felt Stayci reaching under my balls, then sliding a finger into my ass. She found my prostate and massaged it as she worked my cock in and out of her throat. I groaned into Jessica's mouth, and worked another finger inside her. She held me, nails digging into my arm.

Stayci was going to end this pretty quickly the way she was going, so I pulled her off and pulled her up to join us. The three of us kissed together, tongues working in every direction. I turned Stayci around to lean against the glass tile wall, then reached under her to slip myself into her bald pussy. Jessica reached between us, fondling both of us at once, then dropped to the floor, crawling around in front of Stayci. Her hands gripped Stayci's butt, and I soon felt her licking at us where I was fucking Stayci.

Getting it from both directions, Stayci quickly lost it. I thrust at her roughly, lifting her off the shower floor. She began crying out like the porn star I suspected she was, although her arousal hardly seemed faked. She reached down with one hand to pull Jessica closer, and Jessica attacked her even more eagerly. She let out a final screech, and her legs buckled as she came.

She slipped out from between us, and I stepped back to sit on the tile bench along the back of the shower. Jessica crawled forward, and took me into her mouth, licking Stayci's juices off me. Stayci dropped to her knees to watch us, catching her breath, as Jessica bobbed rapidly on my cock. A few moments later, she crawled around behind Jessica, sliding up between her legs to lick at her as she sucked me.

Now Jessica's movements became more urgent and less controlled. She bobbed faster, whining through her nose. I looked down around her to where Stayci was working, and saw the blonde girl with her tongue most of the way inside Jessica. I tried to pace myself, controlling my arousal to match hers. When she began to convulse in orgasm, I took her head and moved it for her to finish myself off, squirting long gooey ribbons of come into her mouth. To her credit, her lips remained locked on my cock, and she took it all.

She kept sucking weakly in the aftermath of her orgasm, and worked out the last of my come with her fist. Stayci reappeared next to us, and pulled Jessica over to kiss her, sucking my come out of her mouth.

II.

The girls left after that, and I went back to bed. Then the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me, and what the fuck are you doing at home?"

"Uh, Sy?"

"Yeah, we had a breakfast meeting with those jerks from Paramount, remember? I got them sitting at the table right now. Don't tell me you fucking forgot."

"Oh, shit. Sorry. I was out late last night. Where are you?"

"At Michael's in Santa Monica. How fast can you get down here?"

"Uh, give me fifteen minutes."

"Okay, I'll try to hold them."

"What was this about again?"

"That Bruckheimer script I sent you. Don't even fucking tell me you didn't read it."

"Uh, okay, I won't."

"Fuck! Try to read it on the way over here, okay?"

"Okay. I'll see you in a few."

I found a reasonably clean pair of jeans in my closet, and pulled a T-shirt on over them. The script Sy had sent me was in the kitchen, where it had lain for the last week after his messenger dropped it off. I grabbed it on the way out, pulling on some sunglasses, and jumped into my NSX.

I swung out onto PCH, hitting 75 in about six seconds, dodging the late Friday morning traffic. I ran the light at Malibu Canyon Drive as I tried to read the script. Another cop movie. Gunfights, explosions, drug dealers, half-naked chicks running around. Typical Bruckheimer stuff. I tossed it on the floor and slammed the car down into second gear as I swung around a Range Rover. I narrowly missed a little Honda running the light at Topanga, then raced down the hill to the beach. The light at Sunset was green, although I came close to hitting a couple of jaywalking surfers. I went up the incline to Ocean, passed Wilshire, and pulled into Michael's. The valet took the car, and I walked into the foyer.

The maitre d' intercepted me immediately.

"This way, Mr. McDonald."

I followed him out to the patio, where Sy was waiting with two guys in sport jackets and T-shirts. They stood up and shook my hand.

"Bret, this is Simon Harris and Phil Cohen."

I nodded as I sat down.

"Nice to meet you."

A waitress appeared at my side. She looked like another aspiring actress, long chestnut hair, big brown eyes, nice tits.

"What can I get you?"

"Your phone number."

She blushed, grinning.

"Just kidding, hon. Get me a Bloody Mary, double shot, with a Corona on the side."

I watched the girl's butt as she left, then looked back at the table. Harris and Cohen were sitting patiently.

"Let me convey Mr. Bruckheimer's apologies for not being able to be here this morning," Harris said. "He's in the middle of production on 'Vegas Takedown.'"

"So I heard."

"Did you have a chance to look at the script?" Cohen asked.

"I took a look at it. Looks like another 'Beverly Hills Cop.'"

"That's close to what we have in mind, but we're thinking 'Lethal Weapon' with a guy and girl instead of a white guy and a black guy."

"Who's going to do the female lead?"

"We're talking to a few people."

"I need to know if I'm going to give this consideration."

They glanced at each other, then at Sy, who remained impassive.

"We've been talking to Peta Wilson and Neve Campbell."

"Nikita. Huh. She'd be good. I've never met her."

"Campbell sounds a little young for that kind of role," Sy said.

The waitress appeared with my drinks, and I gave her another wink. She smiled again, and gave me a glance back before she went through the door into the restaurant.

"We're hoping to go after the youth market with this," Harris said.

I gulped down the Bloody Mary, then took a swig of the beer.

"Well, get Nikita, and I'll do it. Otherwise, talk to Sy. I got to go."

I stood up, and they leapt to their feet. I shook their hands and patted Sy on the back on the way past.

Inside the restaurant, I looked for the waitress. Leo was eating breakfast with a couple of chicks, and I gave him a wave. "Let's get together some time." Yeah, right. Not after I'd usurped his position with that article in "People."

Back by the register, I found the girl totaling a bill. She looked up when I approached, startled, then smiled.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"What's your name?"

"Simone."

"You an actress, Simone?"

"Uh, sort of. Not like you, but I did a couple of commercials."

I leaned in, getting very close. I could see the flush spreading over her face, the thrill in her eyes.

"Do you get breaks, Simone? Like could you spare five or ten right now?"

Her jaw dropped, and her eyes swelled. She bit her lip. Then she grabbed my hand, glancing around us, and pulled me down the hallway behind us.

"In here."

She pulled me into a storeroom, locking the door, and practically jumped into my arms. I kissed her roughly, groping at her ass and tits. Her tits felt real, oddly enough, and I pulled up the front of her blouse to get at them. She pulled it the rest of the way off, then reached behind her to unsnap her bra. I took both tits in my hands, squeezing. Mmm. My, my. Most definitely real. I bent down to suck on them, and she held my head, moaning, pulling at my T-shirt.

I let her pull it off and went back to her tits. I sucked on them hard, biting them, pulling on the nipples with my teeth. All she did was moan.

She pulled my head up, kissing me again, and I continued manhandling her breasts. I always worry about popping the fake ones, so getting real ones this nice was a treat. She bent down, sucking at my nipples, then dropped to her knees in front of me. She dug my cock out of my jeans and popped it into her mouth. I let her suck on me for a few minutes, watching her brown-haired head bobbing up and down.

I pulled her up, reaching under her skirt to shove down her panties, then lifted her up, setting her on some boxes behind her.

"Oh, shit," she moaned. "Oh, my God."

She spread her legs as I moved in, wrapping them around me. I slipped into her, finding her already sopping wet. She put her arms around my shoulders, kissing me frantically. She held onto me and let me work. Having just serviced Stayci and--what was her name?--Jessica an hour ago, I had plenty of control and concentrated on getting her off. She laid her head on my shoulder, gasping, as I stroked in and out of her. I worked the base of my cock against her clit repeatedly, and she was soon shuddering against me. She bit my neck, moaning.

I sped my thrusts, bringing her off again a minute later, finally pumping so hard that I lifted her off the boxes as I came. She whimpered as my come spurted into her, and slowly relaxed.

"Wow," she moaned. "Jesus. Jesus, God."

I withdrew and began getting dressed.

"Um, would you mind, like, could I maybe get your autograph? Or something? Because my roommate will never believe this otherwise."

I grinned.

"Got a pen?"

"Yeah."

She found her apron and pulled a felt-tip pen out of it. I went up to her, took her left tit in my hand, and signed my name on it. She laughed nervously.

"Wait 'til she sees this."

I kissed her forehead.

"Thanks. Catch you later."

"Bye."

III.

I drove back home much more sedately, not running any lights. When I got up to Topanga, the light was red, and as I sat waiting, a trio of teenage girls walked through the crosswalk in front of me. One of them glanced over, got a good look at me, and grabbed her friends. She pointed at me, and I leaned out the side window, grinning at them. They squealed.

The light changed, and as I drove past them, I waved.

"Hey, girls."

More squeals followed me up PCH. I thought about swinging back and picking them up, but decided against it. Three on one might be a bit difficult given the morning I had had, and they were probably underage anyway. Not that that would normally have stopped me, but I wasn't in the mood for jailbait right now.

I called Sy's car phone as I passed Pepperdine.

"Yo."

"What'd they say after I left?"

"They're going to give Wilson a shot. They really want you for this thing."

"What are we talking about moneywise?"

"Seven plus two percent."

"Nothing less than ten. I heard Leo is getting ten for 'American Psycho.'"

"You ain't fucking Leo. Not yet. Get that through your head."

"What's the percentage?"

"Gross after breakeven."

"No chance of first dollar?"

He laughed.

"Christ, Bret who do you think you are? I swear, that fucking 'People' article went right to your head. And your dick. Don't think I didn't see you dragging that waitress into the back."

"Yeah, well, so what? She was hot."

"And don't fucking think I don't know why you want Nikita for this thing, either. Bruckheimer's people know it, too. Stop behaving like you're fucking immortal, okay? You're not so hot that you can't fuck up your career by screwing up Jerry Bruckheimer's movie. He's further up the food chain than you are right now."

"Ah, blow me. If she's not interested, she'll probably dropkick my ass. What the fuck are they worried about?"

"All right, forget that. I got another issue with her. The billing is going to be a problem. She may be hot, but she's just a TV actress. This is supposed to be a buddy picture, and it's going to look a little weird with your name alone above the title twice the size of hers."

"So give her equal billing. Who gives a fuck? She'll feel like she owes me something."

Sy groaned.

"Jesus fucking Christ. What did I do to deserve you for a client? Okay, I'll let them know. Wilson's agent will give birth over this, believe me."

I parked my car and went inside. There was a message on my voice mail, which I played while I got a beer out of the fridge.

"Hey, stud, it's Amber. I'm in town for a shoot, I thought we could get together. I'm staying at the Beverly Wilshire. Give me a call, okay?"

She gave me her room number, then hung up. Amber, Amber. Who the fuck was Amber? Then it hit me--shit!--Amber Valletta. We'd met, gone out, fucked, the last time I was in New York. I'd gone on Letterman to plug my last movie, this rebel-without-a-clue thing I'd done with Matt Damon and Cameron Diaz. Diaz, damn, there was a hot one. Too bad she was hitched.

I figured I'd call Amber later, but not too soon. Let her stew for a while. She wasn't the only piece of ass in the world, no matter how hot she was.

The phone rang as I was polishing off my beer.

"Hey."

"It's me again." Sy.

"What's up?"

"I'm sending over another script. Some Miramax thing. It's a little highbrow, but take a look at it, okay?"

"What is it?"

"Another Jane Austen thing. Northanger Abbey. They want you for the lead."

"Never heard of it."

"Don't worry about it. Just read the damn thing, okay? If you can find time between banging all those groupies."

"I'll give it a look."

I took a nap, then called Amber.

"Hey, sweetness."

"Hi. Thanks for calling me back."

"Are you kidding? I just got the message. You free for lunch?"

"Sure."

"Meet me in the bar downstairs. Just give me a half-hour to get there. That'll give you time to get hot."

"I'm hot already."

"I'll bet you are. Don't wear any panties, okay?"

She laughed softly.

"What makes you think you're going to know whether I am or not?"

"Because I am. I'll see you in a few."

I changed shirts, ran some mousse through my hair, and went back out to the garage. I took the Porsche this time--I never use the same car twice in one day--and drove up PCH to Sunset, then up Sunset to Beverly Glen, which I took down to Wilshire. I drove into the garage at the Beverly Wilshire, threw some money at the valet, and went inside.

I found her in the bar off the lobby, sitting with a glass of iced tea. Her hair was blonde this month, and she sat there coolly behind a pair of sunglasses like she owned the place. I slid in next to her, kissing her on the cheek.

"Hey."

"Hi."

I reached over, taking off her sunglasses, and stared into those big green eyes. She looked away after a second or two, and I watched the color spreading over her face.

"How you doing?"

"Stiff. They had me going about twelve hours yesterday."

"What's this for?"

"Versace. A lot of little slip dresses."

She had one of them on, and it didn't look like she much on under it. I reached out and ran a finger up her bare shoulder to her ear. She twitched, pulling away.

"So what do you want to do?" she asked.

"Well, I was thinking we could either go up the street to that Italian place. Or we could go upstairs and work up an appetite first."

The flush intensified, and she looked away, pursing her lips and closing her eyes.

"I haven't seen you in three months, and you think you can just walk in here like this and drag me off to bed?"

I grinned.

"You tell me."

She took a breath. I could see her nipples erecting. She stood up, smoothing her dress.

"I can't believe I'm doing this. Okay, let's go."

I stood up with her, and followed her to her room.

I closed the door behind us, and she stepped backward, kicking off her shoes.

"We are going to eat afterward. You are not going to take off on me."

"Of course. Don't worry."

I stepped closer, reaching out to hook my fingers under the spaghetti straps of her dress. I let them fall around her shoulders, and the dress slid off. She had nothing under it.

"No panties."

She smiled, looking down in mock innocence.

"You asked."

I took her in my arms and kissed her. Like most top models, she was on the thin side, but she was hardly a clothes hanger, either. I lifted her up under her shoulders, pulling her hard little tits to my mouth. She wrapped arms around my head as I walked over to the bed.

I laid her down, continuing to suck on her nipples, first one, then the other, until I had them standing up in swollen arousal. I worked my way down, licking the entire way, until I got to her neatly trimmed snatch.

I've never really understood this, but nearly every fashion model I've ever met had a thing about having her pussy eaten. Go down on them for fifteen minutes, and they'll practically walk over hot coals for you. And if you know what you're doing when you do, they'll almost sign themselves into slavery over it.

I spent a long while working Amber over like that, not even bothering to undress myself. I sucked on her clit, finger-fucked her, nibbled on her lips. Her legs flailed around like she was epileptic, drumming on my back when she came. She clawed at the sheets, braced her arms on the headboard, screeched like a cat in heat. When she finally pushed me off twenty minutes later, I'd reduced her to a sweaty, panting heap of flesh.

I stood back, pulling off my T-shirt, then my jeans. She crawled down the bed on all fours, and settled her mouth over my cock. I held my head in her hands, letting her bob up and down for a few minutes. Then I reversed her, taking her from behind as I stood at the end of the bed. She butted herself back at me as I thrust into her, grunting though her teeth. When I slid a thumb up her ass, she let out a throaty groan.

"Like that. Fuck me there."

I pulled out, working some of her fluids into her ass with my thumb, then slid greasily up her butt. She put her head down on the bed, groaning again. I held her ass in my hands, sliding in and out of her. I reached under her to tweak her clit as I did, and she cried out, beginning to whimper. I sped my thrusts as I felt her approaching orgasm, and when she came, when I felt her sphincter clamping down on me, I let myself go, squirting painfully intense gobs of come up her butt. She fell forward onto the bed, letting me pull out.

I caught my breath, then went into the bathroom to clean myself off. When I came back, she was out cold, face down on the bed. I got a beer out of the mini-bar and lay down next to her. I knocked the cap off the beer on the nightstand, and took a long swig. Then I dug a cig out of a pack of Camels I found on the floor and lit it.

Amber stirred a few minutes later and reached for the cigarette. I handed it to her and lit another one. She took a slow drag, remaining on her stomach and bunching a pillow up under her shoulders. She stared at me for a few moments, one calf coming up and flopping back and forth.

"What?"

She blew smoke across the bed.

"How many women have you slept with?"

"What, today?"

She grinned, eyebrows going up.

"Today?"

"Today, you're number four."

She laughed.

"Right."

"Believe what you want, babe. Let's go eat."

We walked up Rodeo to a snooty Italian joint I'd been to a few times. Although it was getting passé, I picked the place because there were always one or two paparazzi hanging out there. Sure enough, some guy with a camera appeared as we approached and snapped a few pictures.

"Hey, Bret, can I get good grin?"

I smiled slyly at him as Amber hugged my arm. He shot off a few more and we went inside. I didn't care about it, because I knew this was the whole reason Amber had called me--to get a chance to get her picture in the tabloids with me. I knew it; she knew I it; I didn't care. We'd done the same thing in New York the last time I saw her. She was a decent fuck, so what were a few pictures? Besides which, people had been linking her and Leo lately--I knew better, though--and I figured this might irk him a little.

We ate a long lunch, and I took her back to the hotel.

IV.

When I got home, Sy's gopher had dropped the Jane Austen thing off on my doorstep. I got a beer out of the kitchen and went out the deck to read it.

Christ, what was Sy smoking when he sent me this? Did he think I was Hugh fucking Grant? I grabbed the phone and called him.

"Jesus, Sy, what is this shit? You know I don't do accents. And I don't even show up until thirty pages into the fucking thing."

"They don't care about accents. They just want a name. And you're gonna do this. You want me to tell you why?"

"Why?"

"Because they're about to sign Angelie Jolie for the female lead."

"Oh."

Sy had no doubt remembered my drooling over that thing she'd done for HBO this spring. Goddamn, the eyes that chick had made me stiff.

"'Oh' is right. I swear to God, you're so fucking predictable. You want me to set up a meeting or just tell them you'll do it?"

"What the fuck? Set up a meeting. Let's get lunch out of it."

"Okay. I'll call them right now."

"Money."

"Right. This is an indie thing, you won't be getting studio money. Probably three or four, tops. But there's a love scene toward the end, or did you even get that far?"

"I saw it."

"Okay. Let me worry about the money. That's what you pay me for, remember?"

"Yeah. Good work, Sy."

"Yeah, yeah. Thank me when you get nominated for this."

"Right. Hey, I meant to ask you--whatever happened to that friend of my niece's?"

"Karin? I called someone I know over at Elite. They liked her pictures, so I sent her over there. Last I heard they were about to sign her."

My niece Brittany had a friend who was trying to break into modeling, so I asked Sy to give her some help. This chick was prime material, believe me--had she not been sixteen and my niece's friend, I might have been tempted--so I wasn't too surprised to hear that Elite had snapped her up.

"Thanks, Sy. Catch you later."

I decided to get some sun after that, so I stripped out of my clothes and stretched out on the deck. The railing on my deck is screened, so nobody down on the beach was going to see me, not that I cared much. I don't know what Brad Pitt got so bent out of shape about with those pictures of him in the tabloids. The "Enquirer" sometimes sent helicopters over Malibu to spy on the various stars' homes, mine included, so I might show up one day. But hey, you want a picture of my dick? Go right ahead. Half the chicks in town have seen it already.

Ben Affleck called me just after six.

"Hey man, me and Matt are going to Morton's for dinner if you wanna swing by."

"Oh, fuck that. I go to Morton's I got to say hello to fifteen different people before I even sit down."

"Well, we're going to be there, then maybe head out drinking afterwards."

"Eh, maybe I'll drop by. What time you think?"

"Call it nine."

"Okay. Don't wait up if I don't show."

He laughed.

"Never."

By eight o'clock, I'd changed my mind and decided to meet them. I'd met Matt on that movie I mentioned earlier, and hung out with him and Ben a few times since. I changed into something presentable and went down to the garage. I took the Maranello this time, since I was going out.

When I pulled up to Morton's, three different people took my picture. I grinned, flashing them a peace sign. The crowd of mortals waiting to get a table parted as I approached, and the maitre d' nodded at me.

"Good evening, Mr. MacDonald. Mr. Affleck and Mr. Damon are in front, by the window."

He pointed them out and I made my way over there. As I had feared, I had to stop and say hello to half a dozen industry people on the way over. Gus van Sant was there with his entourage, as was Tori Spelling. I had never liked her, but her dad was one of the Olympians in this town, so I had to make nice like everyone else. Love ya, mean it, catch you later, yadda yadda yadda. Eventually I got to the table.

I shook hands with the two of them and sat down.

"Hey, good to see you."

"How's work?" Ben asked.

"Ah, Sy's got me lined up for this Bruckheimer project, probably with Peta Wilson. They're calling it 'Lethal Weapon' with chicks. How about you two?"

"We're working on a couple of scripts. Nothing complete yet, though."

Ever since that Oscar they'd won, these two were as in demand as screenwriters as they were as actors. They told me a little about it before the waiter appeared.

"What can I get you?"

I waved off the menu he held.

"A rum and coke and a steak. New York strip or whatever it is you've got back there, rare, fries."

He nodded and left.

We yakked aimlessly about work for a while, and I told them about meeting Amber that afternoon, though not about banging her. I liked these two, and there was no sense in alienating them by bragging. Tori Spelling came over as she and her group left, and we pretended to flirt with her for a few minutes. Matt's and Ben's careers were slightly less established than mine, so they had less choice about it than I did. Finally she left.

I figured one of these days I had to get her into bed, just to show her I could do it.

We left around ten-thirty and headed to the Viper Room. We talked to Johnny Depp for a little while, then Matt and Ben wanted to head somewhere else. I decided to let them go, and told them I'd catch them again some other time.

I saw Leo again--Jesus Christ, twice in one day, I've got to find some other places to hang out--holding court with his entourage, a half dozen honeys around them. Leo's got almost as much of a reputation as a lothario as I do, but according to some people, it's just a dodge. The real dirt--and you didn't fucking hear this from me, okay?--is that Leo is really playing the other side of the fence, and all this carousing about town is nothing but a clever smoke screen. But then, they've been saying the same thing about Tom Cruise for years, and the poor sap has been married twice. So who knows? Not that I give a shit, mind you.

I was at the bar a little while later when I spotted this blonde chick watching me a few yards down. She was about five-nine, big tits, long straight hair, very cute, wearing a tight white sleeveless dress. I winked at her, and she slowly moved down the bar toward me.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"What's your name?"

"Cindy."

"With an 'i' or a 'y?'"

"A 'y.' I hate people who spell their names like that."

"Me too. I met this chick last night named Stayci. S-t-a-y-c- i."

She laughed nervously.

"That's so stupid."

I looked a little closer at her. Blue eyes and blonde eyebrows. She held my gaze for only a second or two before looking away in embarrassment. I reached out to her forehead and wrapped a thin lock of her hair around my index finger, pulling it back loosely. She watched me do it, eyes widening, but didn't stop me.

"This is natural, isn't it?"

"Almost. I lighten it a little."

"I like it."

"Thanks."

She brushed the strand I'd pulled back over her head, then arranged the rest of her hair self-consciously.

"What do you do, Cindy?"

"I'm a model. Mostly swimsuit stuff, but I'm trying to get other work."

"Done any lingerie?"

"Some."

"You've got the body for it."

"Thanks."

"No thought of acting?"

"I've auditioned, but so far, no."

"What for?"

"Commercials."

"Huh. You come here a lot? I haven't seen you here before."

"A couple of times. I saw you once. I just couldn't work up the guts to talk to you."

I grinned.

"Can't get too far being shy in this town."

"Yeah. I should try harder."

She pursed her lips, looking down at the bar, then glanced back up at me.

"Um, don't take this the wrong way, but I've heard a lot about

you."

"Like what?"

"That you're quite a player. With the girls, I mean."

"Whatever you've heard is nothing to the reality of it, I bet."

She smiled.

"Really?"

"Really."

"I read somewhere that you were dating Gwynneth Paltrow."

"I met her once. That's it. Not my type. She's too skinny for me."

She smiled again, tossing her hair back.

"You don't like skinny girls?"

"Not that skinny. She's a rail."

I looked her over briefly to let her know what I meant. A flush began to spread over her chest, then her neck. If she was wearing a bra, it was a thin one, because I could see her nipples straining against her dress.

I glanced down at her drink.

"You need a refill?"

"Sure."

I waved the bartender over, and got her another rum and coke.

"Thanks." She lowered her eyes, squirming. "So, what do I have to do to work this off?"

"Show me your panties."

Her eyebrows went up.

"What?"

I leaned over, lowering my voice.

"Take off your panties. I want to see them."

Her eyes bulged, and she looked around, blushing.

"What, right here?"

"It's crowded. No one's paying attention. If you're careful, nobody will see."

She glanced around us again, breathing rapidly. Then she closed her eyes and pressed up against the bar.

"Get behind me," she whispered. I stepped around in back of her, leaning forward with my arms on either side of her. I watched the other patrons around us, and indeed no one was really paying attention. I looked down, seeing Cindy pull the front of her dress up a little and hook a finger into the waistband of her panties. I laid a hand on her butt, feeling them slide down under the fabric. I looked around again. No one had seen us. I leaned forward and laid a wet kiss on her neck, and she tensed up as she stepped out of her drawers. I slid the hand on her butt around in front, reaching up between her thighs with my middle finger. Although I heard her gasp softly when I did it, she didn't move and didn't stop me. She was wet already, and I dragged my finger slowly forward, between her bald labia and across her clit before withdrawing. Then I leaned back against the bar as if nothing had happened.

She was still facing the bar, eyes closed, breathing heavily, one hand wrapped tightly around her panties, trying to hide them. She took a deep breath and turned back to me, handing me the wadded ball of lace as she exhaled.

"There. Oh, God."

She laughed nervously, pulling the hem of her dress down. I examined her panties discreetly--they were noticeably damp--then slipped them into the front pocket of my jeans.

"A thong. Nice."

"Thanks."

She was flushed from head to toe now, nipples about to pop through the fabric of her dress.

"You're not wearing a bra, are you?"

"No. I'm naked under this thing now, thanks to you."

I grinned.

"You here by yourself, Cindy?"

"I came with my roommate. But I could ditch her."

"Where is she?"

"Over there."

She pointed to a brunette about twenty feet away, talking to some other bar hounds. She was shorter, smaller tits, but still very cute, wearing black jeans and a black leather vest top, laced tightly together in front.

"Why don't you go get her?"

Uncertainty flashed over her face for a second, but she went. I watched her go, watched her roommate look over at me, eyes widening. They returned a moment later.

"This is Rebecca."

I shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you."

"You, too."

"Look. I was about to take off. But if you two want to come back with me, you're welcome."

They glanced at each other. Cindy grabbed Rebecca's arm.

"Just a second, okay?"

"Sure."

She pulled Rebecca backwards and they whispered for a few seconds, glancing at me.

"Um ,we'd love to," Cindy said, "but Rebecca has her car here."

"Why don't you two just follow me?"

Another glance.

"Okay."

This was how I usually did it, rather than driving them home myself. This way they felt more in control of the situation, and didn't have to call a cab the next morning (which some chicks tended to get uppity about, wanting me to drive them home).

I led them out, getting my Ferrari from the valet as they got Rebecca's car. When they pulled up behind me, I left.

VI.

I followed Sunset all the way to the beach, keeping an eye on the rear view mirror. They stayed closely behind, even when I got out onto PCH and sped up to see how badly they wanted to come home with me. When I got back to Malibu, they pulled in behind me, parking in the driveway as I pulled into the garage.

I let them inside, and they looked around nervously.

"This is pretty nice," Cindy said.

"Thanks."

"Do you go out on the beach a lot?"

"Rarely. It's hard to do without attracting a crowd. Mostly I hang out on the deck."

I led them out there, opening the door and leaning against the railing. Cindy noticed the Jacuzzi, and went over to examine it. I grinned at her.

"Want to take a dip?"

More glances.

"I don't have a suit."

"Nobody's going to see you."

They glanced at each other again, repressing grins.

"Okay."

I went behind her to the control box and turned the thing on.

"Let me get something to drink. Go ahead and get in."

I went inside to the kitchen, looking back once to see them undressing. I pulled a bottle of Crystal out of the fridge (I keep several chilled for occasions like this) and found some glasses.

When I returned, they were both in the water, naked and floating around. I opened the champagne and poured them each a glass, then undressed. They tried not to watch me, but I could tell there were doing it anyway. I climbed in and settled into the water across from them.

"I've never done this before," Rebecca said nervously. "Gone into a Jacuzzi naked, I mean."

"I have," Cindy said.

"When?"

"A while ago. I was skiing."

I could see Cindy's tits in the light from the Jacuzzi, but not much else. Rebecca was down too far to see anything. I tossed back my glass of champagne.

"Where'd you go skiing?" I asked.

"Mammoth."

"I've been there."

"I guess you go skiing in Vail and Aspen, though, right?" Rebecca said.

"I'm not really into that scene. I go skiing, I want to ski, not schmooze. I do enough of that here."

"Are you doing anything now?" Cindy said.

"Movies?"

"Yeah."

"I'm probably doing Jerry Bruckheimer's next project. Like 'Lethal Weapon,' but with a girl instead of a black guy."

"Who's going to play her?"

"Peta Wilson, maybe."

"Who's she?" Rebecca asked.

"She's that girl on 'La Femme Nikita,' on USA," Cindy said.

"Right."

"Oh. She's pretty."

"Do you know her?" Cindy asked.

"Nope. Never even met her."

I poured myself another glass of champagne, then noticed that Cindy had floated out to the middle of the spa. She smiled at me, and came closer, pressing herself against me. I slipped my arms around her waist, feeling her tits pressing against my chest, and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around my neck, floating with me.

When I withdrew a moment later, I looked over at Rebecca, who was watching us, eyes wide. I held out my hand, and she took it, floating up to us. I leaned over and kissed her as I had Cindy. She was somewhat more hesitant, but didn't stop me when I pulled her against us.

They both held onto me as I fondled them, feeling random tits and pussies. Rebecca had firm little breasts, but Cindy, as I had suspected, had implants, though they were good ones. Other than a little patch of blonde fleece above her clit, Cindy was shaved--most swimsuit models I'd met were--but Rebecca was not. I played with them both at once as they sucked on my mouth and neck, moaning. Someone's hand--I thought it was Cindy's--found my cock and began pulling on it.

I kissed them alternately, moving back and forth between them, getting them to kiss me both at once. Then I pulled back a little, putting my hand on the back of Cindy's neck, pushing her toward Rebecca.

"Kiss her," I said softly.

She hesitated for only a second, before pressing her lips gently against Rebecca's. Rebecca squeaked once in surprise, glancing at me, then closed her eyes, going limp in shock. I slid my hand up Rebecca's back, holding her close to us as I held Cindy's neck. They kissed weakly, nothing beyond rubbing their lips together. I let them withdraw. Both of them were breathing hard, Rebecca more than Cindy. I kissed one, then the other, pulling them close to me.

Cindy reached down, grabbing my dick again and squeezing it tightly. She leaned in against my ear, still breathing hard.

"You want me to do it with her," she whispered weakly, "don't you?"

"Only if you want to."

"Oh, God. I've never done anything like that before. I'm not gay."

"It's okay. No harm in trying."

She squeezed my dick again, and moved slowly around in front of me. I saw her other hand come up, resting on Rebecca's arm. I pulled Rebecca to me, kissing her again, then moving down to her neck. I felt Cindy pressing against us, moving closer. She kept her hand on my cock, stroking it.

Rebecca tensed up again, and she gasped in my ear. I looked around to see Cindy kissing the other side of her neck, moving upward. Rebecca went limp and hung against my arm. I withdrew a little, arms on both of their backs, as Cindy finally kissed her again. This time she was more forceful, using her tongue as Rebecca remained still and passive.

I moved the hand on Cindy's back down between us, then up between Rebecca's legs. I stroked her gently as Cindy kissed her. Rebecca did nothing, but neither did she stop us.

I floated around behind her, holding her, reaching up to fondle her breasts. Cindy had moved in closer as I withdrew, and I felt her hands coming to rest on Rebecca's waist. Still Rebecca hung between us, scarcely moving at all. I pulled Rebecca up slightly, letting my stiff cock pass between her thighs. Then I took one of Cindy's hands and guided it down to where my cock was just resting against Rebecca's mound. She felt around gingerly, then took my cock and pushed it into Rebecca.

Rebecca gasped, leaning back against me. I slid one arm around her waist and one around her chest, lifting her up as I thrust into her from behind. Cindy pressed against her, kissing her way down to Rebecca's breasts. Her hand remained where Rebecca and I were joined, stroking and exploring.

Rebecca finally came to life, twisting around to kiss me. Her arms came up, wrapping around Cindy. I stroked in and out of her slowly. Whatever her reservations about bisexuality, she was getting very hot very fast. She began to twitch in my arms, crying out with each thrust. Cindy was masturbating gently her as I fucked her, sucking on one tit, then the other. A minute more of this had Rebecca thrashing in orgasm between us.

I let her coast down and withdrew, floating around to Cindy. Rebecca pressed herself against me, still gasping for breath. She hugged me tightly from behind, biting at my neck as I kissed and fondled her roommate. Cindy reached down between us, guiding my cock into her.

I pulled her up, letting her settle on to me. Both of them held tightly on to me, moaning softly. I twisted around to kiss Rebecca.

"You don't need to stay back there."

She regarded me timidly for a moment.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Sit up on the edge of the Jacuzzi."

"Why?"

"You'll see."

She let go of me, backing up and lifting herself out. I pushed Cindy away, moving her around in front of Rebecca. I held her from behind, holding her tits in my hands, and whispered into her ear.

"Now is when I want you to do her. Are you up to it?"

She closed her eyes, breathing hard.

"I'll try."

I slipped myself between her buttocks, sliding into her. She leaned forward against Rebecca, who closed her eyes and held Cindy's head. Cindy kissed her way down Rebecca's body, finally settling between her thighs.

Rebecca gasped, teeth clenched. Her hands went to fists in Cindy's hair. I fucked Cindy from behind, watching her head moving around in Rebecca's crotch. Rebecca was whimpering now, seemingly on the verge of tears, but she held Cindy's head close to her.

I leaned around to get a better view. Cindy's eyes were closed, and she simply licked gently back and forth around Rebecca's clit. Rebecca began to convulse, abdomen heaving, and Cindy licked faster. A long feline cry escaped Rebecca's lips, and she threw herself backward onto the deck.

"Oh! Oh, God!"

She mashed Cindy's face against her crotch, not letting her withdraw as she thrashed around. Cindy kept licking frantically, and I finally felt myself getting close. I reached around, finding her clit, and stroked it roughly. As Rebecca erupted into another orgasm, Cindy began to beat herself back at me, crying out. When I felt her begin to spasm around me, I let loose, squirting off deeply inside her.

As we all coasted down, Rebecca pulled Cindy up, kissing her deeply. They embraced as I pressed against Cindy from behind.

"Want to go inside?"

Cindy nodded weakly. Rebecca hung her head back, breathing hard. I withdrew and climbed out of the spa, gathering up the champagne. Rebecca and Cindy got to their feet and followed me into the bedroom. I found some towels and we dried off.

Cindy and Rebecca both seemed tense, not looking at each other or at me. I took them both in my arms.

"Hey. Relax. This is just for fun. It doesn't mean anything you don't want it to."

Cindy nodded.

"I know."

"Let's go to bed."

They climbed into bed with me, one on either side. I poured some more champagne, and they drank it as they tried to catch their breath.

We lay together for a while, resting and playing. I went down on both of them a bit later, Cindy, then Rebecca. The one who wasn't getting serviced just lay and watched. I didn't push it, figuring I had gotten enough lesbian action out of them. Then they sucked another erection out of me, and I fucked them alternately for another half- hour.

Afterward, I went out on my deck with the bottle of champagne and had a cigarette. I looked down at the surf, watching the flashing phosphorescence of the waves. I leaned against the deck, my dick just below the railing. Far off to the south, I could see the glowing lights of L.A. Paradise.

I took a swig of champagne. I wanted to laugh. I loved this town. Why shouldn't I? Where else could I possibly boff six different chicks in one day?

I felt hands on my waist, plump breasts against my back. Cindy leaned against me, biting at my shoulder, hugging me.

"Hey," I said.

"Hi."

"You have fun?"

"Yeah."

I held the cig up to my shoulder, and she took a drag.

"Don't let the thing with Rebecca throw you. Everyone should let loose every now and then. Doesn't mean you're anything other than what you want to be."

"It's okay."

She kissed my neck, letting the smoke swirl around us as she exhaled.

"Do you do this a lot?" she asked softly. "Turn straight girls bi-?"

I chuckled.

"Sometimes."

She kissed me again, up by my ear.

"You remember in the bar, when you felt me up after I took my panties off?"

"Yeah."

"I almost came. So close it hurt."

"You should have said something. I might have finished you off."

She laughed quietly.

"Come back to bed. Finish me off there. I'll fuck Rebecca again, if you want me to."

I grinned. What could I say? When you're hot, you're hot.

And let me tell you, stroking your cock is nothing to stroking your ego. I should know, eh? I've got the biggest one in town.

Trust me on that one, baby.

THE END