Act Two

I slide the key card into the door, wait for the green light to flicker on, press the knob down and forward, opening the hotel suite for my entry. I could get use to this life.

IMDB had flown me to where he is filming to play acting lover for the last week of his shoot. At the airport I’d been pickup by a driver in a suit holding a sign with my name, Ms. Ruthless. These were the gigs I was best at, the lead’s leading lady. Well, mistress. Concubine, technically.

The suite is on the top floor overlooking the windy, snowy city. A waterfall fixture tricking in the living room coax me in, the sound of the water echoing off the gold and reflexive surfaces in the vast, open concept room. Leaving my suitcase by the door I make my way to my favorite part of hotel rooms, the bathroom, opening the double doors to a marble dream filled with framed mirrors, a vanity, Jacuzzi tube, and glass shower.

The king bed breaks up the space and my inner child sends my legs into a quick pace before jumping onto the plush mattress, slowly absorbing my weight into it’s 800-thread count. Luxury. This man is certainly going to spoil me.

A note by the television reads, “If you beat me here make your lovely self at home. Order room service and a movie. XXX” I think I’ll do just that.

Stretched out on the couch, half a bottle of wine and sampler plate later I hear the room door open, IMDB presses through with a smile on his face. “Honey, I’m home.”

“Oh, darling. How was work?” I feign a terrible upper crust English accent to counter his 1950’s Americana dialect.

He kisses my forehead. “I’ve missed you.”

“Not if that’s how you welcome me,” I climb to my feet, walking around the couch to meet him with an embrace. So pretty. How could man be so pretty? I kiss him softly, gently biting those cupcake lips, and we envelope into each other.

We pull and paw at each others’ clothes like children, revealing body part after body part in the soft light of the of room with the sun’s light darkening as it sets like a stage curtain descending between acts.

He kisses down my chest finding his favorite spot, between my legs. With most men I can tell what their tongues and fingers do as they eat me out, being familiar with the practice myself. Actors, specifically, are the best at oral sex as I think back to Actor Boy. But IMDB has behind the scenes movie magic, perhaps a technical team and a few gaffers. His oral skills are of A-list status, causing my moans to become uncontrollable, my body to twist, and my pussy to gush.

“Damn. I forgot how good you are at that.” I am breathless but anxious to return the favor. I kick his shoulder indicating that it’s his turn to be on his back.

My mouth is as moist as my cunt and I skip the kisses down the chest or gentle teasing preferring to have him inside me as quickly as possible, continuing the momentum of the scene. I bob up and down on his dick, my mouth taking in as much as I can, but I know what IMDB likes and his cock isn’t the only place he likes my mouth.

My hand continues what my lips start, jerking him off slowly as my mouth trails to his balls, sucking at each one. But he doesn’t want me to stop there. He tilts his hips making space for where my real oral skills will pleasure him, sliding my tongue between is cheeks and encircling his anus.

I thrust in and out with my moist oral muscle while continuing to pleasure his cock and balls with my hands. His head tilts back and I know what is coming with each twitch of his dick. Just a few minutes longer. Time to quicken the pace.

Opening my jaw as wide as it can I shove my tongue deeper inside of him, flicking it up and down like I do on my female lovers, increasing the speed of my hand jerking him off and caressing his balls. Here cums the closing credits.

“I forgot how good you are at that!”

“Well,” I chuckle. “There can always be a sequel.”

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