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I couldn’t believe it. Here I was about to walk into her trailer. I was speechless. My heart was pounding; I was perspiring like a mad man. I actually had to stop and catch my breath, as if I had just run 5 miles. I started to rethink everything I had done that morning. Was my hair styled perfectly? Was it the best style for me? I looked down at myself. Should I have worn this? I mean, a green t-shirt, what was I thinking? And jeans, who wears jeans nowadays? I took a couple more deep breaths and calmed myself. Everything would go find. I knocked on the trailer door. A light, feminine voice drafted out, a voice that was very familiar to me.
“Who’s there?” Hearing her voice reminded me of all my fears once more, but I stuck through it, knowing that I had already knocked. I had reached the point of no return.
“It’s uh, it’s, it’s, um, uh…” I stammered to get the words out, my nervousness paralyzing my vocal chords. I closed my eyes and inhaled, calming myself down.
“Who?” she asked, obviously confused by the jumble of words that had tumbled out of my mouth.
I took one more deep breath and started again, slowly. “It’s Kyle, from the fan club. I’m here for the interview we that was set up.”
“Oh, of course! Well, come on in!” Her tone was a light, cheerful one. It made me feel a lot better. The way it sounded, it sounded like she really wanted to see me. It was most likely my mind turning the tone into what I wanted it to mean, but hey, a guy can fantasize, can’t he? I grabbed the handle and pushed, opening the trailer. I entered into it, and it felt like a dream. It was cool inside the trailer, which was a relief from the hot, sticky summer weather. But stepping into the trailer, I was making my life long dream come true. My short, 18-year life long dream, but a dream nonetheless.
But perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself. My name is Kyle. I’m what you would consider to be your average, run of the mill 18 year old male. There really isn’t anything special about me. Or so I thought. I’m not really a social person. I have a few friends, but not droves of them. I’m not getting invited to the best parties, but I don’t sit home every weekend either. The truly unique and probably sad part is that I am a virgin. All my friends have done it, so I am consistently regaled with the tales of their sexual exploits. So, needless to say, I spent many a night pleasuring myself. Hell, night, I did whenever I could. God had played a mean trick on me. No sex life mixed with a large libido. Real fucking funny, isn’t it?
Now, the main figure of my masturbatory fantasies was Beverly Mitchell. For those of you who don’t know who she is, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU! I’m kidding. She plays Lucy Camden on the WB drama ‘7th Heaven’. I had accidentally stumbled across the show one night, and was completely intrigued by her. Now, most people think of Jessica Biel as being the hot one, but she is, in my opinion, overrated. She posed for Gear and did her movie “Summer Catch’, and she did look attractive, but Beverly is the one to watch. She isn’t overtly sexual. She always seems to be sweet, innocent, but when she walks around in the outfits she does, look out! She has a large chest, but she doesn’t display it 24/7. We get little peaks here, shows there, and that’s it. And that makes her a tease, and extremely sexual. I have no embarrassment when I say that I watch ‘7th Heaven’ every week, and jerk off at least twice, thinking of Beverly all the while. I collected every magazine she has posed in, downloaded every picture I could off the internet, and even bid on some signed pictures of her off EBay. So, partly for my lust for her, and partly cause I wanted to make more friends, I joined her fan club. I had listed on the admission form that I wanted to be a reporter when I grew up, and that turned out to be the best move of my life.
I got a call from the president of the club, and nearly passed out, then wept, then yelled for joy. They had seen my aspirations to be a reporter, and offered me the chance of a lifetime. They wanted to know if I could interview Beverly, for an upcoming newsletter for fan club members. They said that by giving me the chance to interview her, it would be a stepping-stone to my career as a reporter. I was blown away. Here I was, being asked to not only be in the same room, but also have a one-on-one conversation with Beverly Mitchell! I had somehow found the words to accept. So, a plane ride later, here I was, in LA in August. I was supposed to mainly ask her about the new season of ‘7th Heaven’, which they had just started filming, and other things about her career. I would have agreed to ask her anything, just to be in the same room with her alone.
So, there I was, sitting across from here. She was on a white leather couch, I in a director’s chair sitting across from her. I couldn’t help but keep thinking,
there is less than 3 feet of space between Beverly Mitchell and me right now!
And she looked incredible. Her beautiful straight brown hair hung down just past her shoulders, framing her gorgeous face. She was wearing a gray tube top that could barely contain her massive tits. They were practically spilling out, giving me great cleavage to look at. Her bare midriff revealed her tight stomach. She had on a little skirt that showed off her miles of leg, all the way up to her creamy thighs. Her legs were beautiful, and they were crossed. All I knew is that if she uncrossed them, I’d see a show. That scene from ‘Basic Instinct’ kept replaying in my mind. She was wearing heeled, strapped shoes that showed off her feet. I was surprised. I even found her feet sexy. I somehow stumbled through the interview. It was hard, mostly due to my transfixion with her beauty. I think she knew I was nervous, and she was very understanding. She answered my questions, laughed her lovely laugh at my jokes, and made me feel welcome and calm. We were just finishing up her career questions and moving on to questions about her personal life.
“So”, I asked. “Any special men in your life?”
She giggled. She had a great laugh, and I loved the way her face looked when she did. “I really don’t have a steady boyfriend, no.”
I nodded and moved on. “Now, I can definitely tell you are in great shape.”
“Thank you.” She replied.
“How do you do it?”
She sat there for a second, thinking about it. “Well, I try and stay active. I have my routine.” She smiled.
I smiled back, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that there was something sneaky about this smile. I decided to pursue it. After all, I wanted to be a reporter, didn’t I? “So, what does that mean, like exercise?”