This is one of those stories that started heading in one direction and then chucked a left and went off on a tangent. It fits into several different genres; there is some incest, some non-consent/reluctance, even a hint of group sex, but at the end of the day the over-riding story is a romance.
It is also an exploration of social mores (what's new?) and I have to insert a disclaimer here: The views expressed in this story are not necessarily those of the author, and any resemblance in both the story and characters to any incident or person(s) is purely coincidental. CM.
As she strode, no that's not the word for it, as she glided down the red carpet the eyes of the world were on her. She was tall, 1.7 metres (5'7"), made even taller by the heels, slim, probably around 55kg (120pounds), honey skinned, with her long black hair worn simply. But that's not what grabbed my attention, it was her simply elegant outfit. The long black chrome silk dress had a skirt that flowed to the carpet from a simple clasp at the waist. It was wrapped under so that the right leg, clad in black stockings, was revealed to a point about half way up her thigh and I, and everyone else, was immediately dreaming of the perfection that was hidden beyond. Her top was in two sections starting from her waist with a 75mm (3") gap separating each section at the front and by a gap of 150mm (6") at the back. The sections were crossed at her breasts and fastened behind her neck. She obviously wore no bra, none was necessary, and her breasts were large enough that they appeared to be in danger of a wardrobe malfunction at any moment. I, along with every other red-blooded male, held my breath in anticipation of that moment. Her slender neck was emphasized by a single strand of large black pearls with matching drop ear-rings. She carried a leather clutch bag, in the same black chrome colour, with matching shoes. Perfection was understating her appearance
But the thing that grabbed my attention most of all was that she was not escorted down the carpet.
"Stephanie." I called to her. She turned to me and smiled as I held my finger on the shutter release of my camera. She didn't pose, simply because she didn't need to, no matter how she stood, it was a natural pose. If I was using a film camera I would have run out of film long ago, but I simply could not get enough of this simply beautiful woman. "Thank you, your are simply gorgeous as usual."
Her smile was for me. "Thank you Bradley."
I was surprised that she knew my name, after all she was a star and I was just another parasite, eking out a precarious existence in the despised world of the paparazzi.
Stephanie's Morrow's story was the stuff of dreams. Born the first child into a large family, she was forced by circumstance to take over the running of the household from her terminally ill (breast cancer) mother. She left school as soon as she was able and took over the full time care of her mother and siblings. Her father was forced to work two jobs to pay the constantly mounting medical bills.
That was until the day that the seventeen year old Stephanie was pushing a heavily laden shopping trolley through the mall to the car park. Also in the mall was a film crew shooting a TV commercial. The Director was just about to admit defeat, and give it up, pack it in and go home after the 43rd attempt at getting the actress (blonde) to say her words without tripping over her tongue. She was not his choice, but the client insisted, probably because he was fucking her. It was at that point that he noticed that the crew were no longer focussed on the 'talent', but the young Stephanie almost hidden behind the massively overloaded shopping trolley. "Take ten!" He yelled as he headed in her direction.
The rest, as they say, is history. She was asked to take over the part in the commercial and she accepted. She nailed the words and actions on the first take and was given a card that led her to one of the most famous talent agents in this country. Several high profile commercials followed over the next year, each earning her more than the previous, which led to a casting call for a role in a feature film that was being shot in Sydney. Her original role was as a walk-on extra but she was soon elevated to a minor speaking role. This in turn attracted the attention of the Director who, on his return to Hollywood, arranged for her to fly over and audition for roles in a couple of films.
This move led, in her first feature film role, to a dramatic confrontation with the female lead who accused Stephanie of attempting to 'steal' her part. The ensuing publicity, particularly in the social media, ensured that she was on the minds of a wider range of Directors. Her star was well and truly in its ascendency. More important roles followed and there was even talk of an Oscar nomination for her part in the film that was premiering tonight.
Throughout all of this she distanced herself from the usual Hollywood scene, choosing instead to fly back to Sydney to be with her family between films. She maintained that this kept her grounded, she said that it was because her brothers and sisters did not think of her as the 'Hollywood star' who was their sister, but as their sister who just happened to be successful in Hollywood. The real reason was something completely different. She knew from the very beginning of her career in Tinseltown that it was expected of her that she should go through the almost mandatory affairs, brushes with the law and substance abuse, but she did something that few up and coming actresses did, tell the studio to get well and truly fucked (my words, not hers), and that if they wanted her to be in their movie, they would have to accede to her modest demands.
To achieve this she hired a very good agent and lawyer. When it became obvious that one of the studios had decided not to cast her, and had hired a lesser talent, but one who would sleep with whoever the production company required her to, that studio found themselves in court charged with discrimination and restraint of trade based on the fact that, to be cast, she had to submit to the humiliation of being forced to indulge in sexual acts against her wishes. In other words, she was asked to become a prostitute. It cost the studio a lot of money and the adverse publicity saw it decline rapidly in popularity. The other studios removed that unwritten clause from her terms of contract.
Then came her career mega shift. She turned her back on the big studios and concentrated her efforts on small budget independent films. Despite their limited release they gradually built up a cult following, to the extent that the production company was approached by a major studio waving a huge cheque, and offering them full artistic control.
Stephanie was against the move but her partners had dollars in their sights, so she sold them her share of the production company after the completion of the latest film, the one that was premiering here tonight. The company's status was high enough to attract some of Australia's top rising stars as well as government financial support. Even though it was a gritty drama, the government looked on it a suitable vehicle to raise the image of the country's film making industry, hence the publicity push and Stephanie. For this film she played a drug dealer who had incurred the wrath of the cartel importing the drugs. They set it up that she should be busted by a tame member of the drug squad. She was on the run from both the police and the cartel, moving from one sleazy location to the next in an attempt to crawl out of the primordial slime that she had lived in for so long. It was a role so far removed from her previous movie roles that her fans could not believe that it was really her playing it. One social media post claimed the use of a body double. Her performance had led to rumours of a potential Oscar nomination.
Stephanie Morrow was now a popular and very rich young woman and one that was the target of every man hoping for an invitation into her life. I was one such man. I was in love with her, hopelessly in love with her. Aware that I had no hope of getting close to her, but willing to try anything, I ran through the memory card from my camera and selected twelve of the very best shots and prepared a portfolio of her, including some close-ups that were cropped out of a larger picture. I even blew one up even more and printed it on canvas. I packaged the lot and sent it to her home address with a note that suggested that I was interested in her sitting for a studio portrait. I sent it and forgot all about it, reasoning that I had no hope of success.
A couple of days later I was printing a series that I'd done for a fashion magazine when my phone rang. "Hi Bradley, it's Stephanie, how would you like to have a cup of coffee with me so that we can discuss your suggestion?"
"I'd love it, when?"
"How about right now?"
There was a knock on my door. "Could you hold on a second there's someone at the door, I'll just get rid of whoever it is and be right back."
"Don't do that."
"Why?"
"Because silly, it's me." It was her, standing there looking so beautiful in trackie dacks (Track suit pants) a sweat shirt that wasn't sweaty and sneakers. In her hands were two large takeaway coffees and a paper bag that looked suspiciously like it contained disgustingly sweet cakes. "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?"
"Sure, come in." I stammered, moving aside to allow her to come in. She put her load of goodies down on the coffee table and came over and kissed me. Yes, you got it right, she actually kissed me, and it wasn't the industry standard air kiss either. Forever etched into my brain is the first taste of her lips, strawberry. I found myself speechless.
"Those pictures were absolutely perfect, thank you for them."
