Read Online She's a Star (a Hollywood Hotwife story) by Max Sebastian - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Max Sebastian
Ads: Link
week in bed with Aaron Simpson!” I chuckled. “Your teenage self would have killed for that.”
“My teenage self wouldn’t have imagined doing it with 50 other people in the room, stopping and starting all the time for days straight, someone yelling at you all the time to put your hand here or there, move your shoulder this way, put your knee over there and bend your head some impossible way….”
“Sounds pretty horrible.”
“It was. I mean, you get through it. You kind of get used to it after a day or so—but you don’t really see it as sex, somehow. It’s not romantic, it’s…I don’t know…very scripted, very planned, and you’re just following every instruction and then waiting for the next one.”
I guess it was something of an anticlimax for someone like me, increasingly obsessed with the idea of my wife enjoying a little liberated sexual fun outside our marriage.
The next time we were actually in the mood for a little physicality with each other, I raised one of the key questions whirling around my head ever since that dinner with Liona when Hayley had gone off to shoot her sex scenes.
“Was he hard while you were doing those scenes together?”
Straddling me, she sat pressing down on my hardness, though I wasn’t yet inside her. Her pause suggested that she needed to figure out how to tell me, there was no way it was something she’d struggle to remember.
“Some of the time,” she said. “But you know…we were both wearing these flesh-colored thongs, and I had a kind of pad thing on my…you know….”
“A pad?” I smiled. “Now that sounds sexy.”
She shrugged. “But you know, he’s a guy, and I was almost naked…you have to expect there’ll be some…stiffness….”
“Was he big?” I asked
She rolled her eyes, but now started grinding against me. “You’re probably happy he was pressing that thing against me, huh?” she joked, though it wasn’t entirely a joke.
“You have a problem with that?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I guess it could be worse, I could have a husband who denounced me as Satan every time I did a mild love scene with another actor.”
“I don’t think I really believe in Satan.”
“But you know,” she said, taking my swollen, throbbing cock inside her tight little pussy now, “I’m only yours, David. I’ll only ever be yours.”
“I know.”
“Even if you have some weird fantasy about me cheating on you.”
“How many times do I have to say it?” I grinned. “It’s not cheating if I know about it.”
Chapter Seven
On the way to Hollywood wearing my best suit, I sat there being warned yet again it was only a movie, that I had to remember at all times while watching it, that it wasn’t real. It was a shock, nevertheless, when it came to my first moments seeing her up there on the big screen making love to another man.
None of it seemed real, from the very beginning. Turning up at a theatre on Hollywood Boulevard for the Premiere, the stretched limo pulling up in front of a crowd of baying fans, flashing cameras and the red carpet. Hovering awkwardly behind my gorgeous, glamorous wife, far enough away from her to give her room for the photographers, the lights were dazzling, the noise stupefying, the stage fright intimidating.
It was a relief to step inside the lobby of the Indian Theater. Even if it was already crowded with people from the movie, publicity hounds for the studio and various invited guests in assorted evening wear, it was more civilized than the chaos outside.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Great to see you!”
“This is hubby? Oh. Hayley!”
God. Every glance included some bewilderingly famous person within it—I felt a fraud to be here, I was put in the shade by so many bright stars around us.
“There you are! Fabulous to see you, sweetie!”
“How are you?”
“Oh, you know. Bannerman’s was closed this afternoon for some God-unknown reason, so my nails are
“My teenage self wouldn’t have imagined doing it with 50 other people in the room, stopping and starting all the time for days straight, someone yelling at you all the time to put your hand here or there, move your shoulder this way, put your knee over there and bend your head some impossible way….”
“Sounds pretty horrible.”
“It was. I mean, you get through it. You kind of get used to it after a day or so—but you don’t really see it as sex, somehow. It’s not romantic, it’s…I don’t know…very scripted, very planned, and you’re just following every instruction and then waiting for the next one.”
I guess it was something of an anticlimax for someone like me, increasingly obsessed with the idea of my wife enjoying a little liberated sexual fun outside our marriage.
The next time we were actually in the mood for a little physicality with each other, I raised one of the key questions whirling around my head ever since that dinner with Liona when Hayley had gone off to shoot her sex scenes.
“Was he hard while you were doing those scenes together?”
Straddling me, she sat pressing down on my hardness, though I wasn’t yet inside her. Her pause suggested that she needed to figure out how to tell me, there was no way it was something she’d struggle to remember.
“Some of the time,” she said. “But you know…we were both wearing these flesh-colored thongs, and I had a kind of pad thing on my…you know….”
“A pad?” I smiled. “Now that sounds sexy.”
She shrugged. “But you know, he’s a guy, and I was almost naked…you have to expect there’ll be some…stiffness….”
“Was he big?” I asked
She rolled her eyes, but now started grinding against me. “You’re probably happy he was pressing that thing against me, huh?” she joked, though it wasn’t entirely a joke.
“You have a problem with that?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I guess it could be worse, I could have a husband who denounced me as Satan every time I did a mild love scene with another actor.”
“I don’t think I really believe in Satan.”
“But you know,” she said, taking my swollen, throbbing cock inside her tight little pussy now, “I’m only yours, David. I’ll only ever be yours.”
“I know.”
“Even if you have some weird fantasy about me cheating on you.”
“How many times do I have to say it?” I grinned. “It’s not cheating if I know about it.”
Chapter Seven
On the way to Hollywood wearing my best suit, I sat there being warned yet again it was only a movie, that I had to remember at all times while watching it, that it wasn’t real. It was a shock, nevertheless, when it came to my first moments seeing her up there on the big screen making love to another man.
None of it seemed real, from the very beginning. Turning up at a theatre on Hollywood Boulevard for the Premiere, the stretched limo pulling up in front of a crowd of baying fans, flashing cameras and the red carpet. Hovering awkwardly behind my gorgeous, glamorous wife, far enough away from her to give her room for the photographers, the lights were dazzling, the noise stupefying, the stage fright intimidating.
It was a relief to step inside the lobby of the Indian Theater. Even if it was already crowded with people from the movie, publicity hounds for the studio and various invited guests in assorted evening wear, it was more civilized than the chaos outside.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Great to see you!”
“This is hubby? Oh. Hayley!”
God. Every glance included some bewilderingly famous person within it—I felt a fraud to be here, I was put in the shade by so many bright stars around us.
“There you are! Fabulous to see you, sweetie!”
“How are you?”
“Oh, you know. Bannerman’s was closed this afternoon for some God-unknown reason, so my nails are
Similar Books
