I work in Los Angeles for a livery company. Due to a well deserved reputation for competence and discretion, our services are often utilized by many of the celebrity personalities living and working in the Los Angeles area. In my case, it also led to some amazing sexual encounters. Now, I don't pretend to claim that every beautiful woman that ever rode in my limousine tore off both our clothes, but in this forum there isn't much sense in writing about the ones "who got away". I'd rather make known the tales about the tails I've known.
Once such encounter took place when I was contracted to drive Brooke Shields for the evening. It was shortly after her split from Andre Agassi. I had been assigned to pick her up after her daily shoot for her TV series "Suddenly Susan".
As requested, I was at the studio at the end of the days filming. It was early on a Friday evening and Miss Shields requested to be driven to a Santa Monica restaurant popular with many of the upscale personalities in Southern California. We reached the restaurant about 5:30 and I was told to be back at the door at 7:30.
I took advantage of the time to have my own dinner before returning to perform my chauffeuring duties. When I returned at the appointed time, Miss Shields was nowhere to be seen. Assuming that her dinner engagement had run late, I parked nearby and relaxed in the limousine. After a half hour, I received a call from our dispatcher, ordering me to pickup my passenger at the rear entrance of the eatery. This was not an uncommon request as all too often the paparazzi will be tipped to the presence of a celebrity. In many of those cases, the celebrity's desire for privacy will prompt a change in plans.
I started the auto and drove around the corner and up a back alley until I was behind the establishment. Almost immediately, the maitre d' escorted Miss Shields out to the car. I was already holding the door open and he quickly assisted her into the car. The whole thing took less than a minute, but I had time to see that my passengers face was red and it appeared she had been crying.
The maitre d' made a furtive motion that was obviously meant to convey that I should stay silent, which indicated to me that she was definitely trying to avoid media attention. The maitre d' then quickly whispered that her dinner companion had not shown up and she suddenly burst into tears at her table. Luckily she had been in a private alcove and at her request he had helped her leave the restaurant without anyone else seeing her.
This was far from the first time I had been entrusted with keeping such an occurrence quiet and it seemed like just another evening so far. Things, however, were to end under far from normal circumstances.
I returned to my position in front of the car and pulled away from the alley. Switching on the intercom, I inquired as to our next destination. She choked back a sob and asked me to just drive north on the Coast highway for a little while. I cruised along the road for about 20 minutes, enjoying the sunset and making good time on the road.
It was about then that her voice came over the intercom and she haltingly asked me to pull into one of the scenic overlooks that allows a rather spectacular view of the Pacific Ocean. It was almost dark by now and I assumed she wanted to get some fresh air and felt that she was in much less danger of being recognized. I wheeled into the next stop and parked the car.
I stepped to the door and held it open as she exited. She seemed in control of herself but of course I knew that could be an act. As this particular overlook was just above a steep drop, I followed a few steps behind as she slowly walked over to the rail.
In the rapidly dwindling twilight, it was difficult to read her expression when she turned and asked me my name. I introduced myself and she sniffled and said, "Well, it looks like it's just you and me tonight, Henry. First I got dumped by my husband and now I get stood up by my date."
She sounded rather pitiful and I found myself feeling sorry for her. I am one of those people who never know what to say and as I racked my brain for an appropriate expression of sympathy, she interrupted my thoughts with a request for a cigarette.
I don't smoke myself but part of providing excellent service is being prepared for such requests, so it was easy enough to fetch a smoke and a light from the car. We stood there in silence while she finished about half the butt. She was obviously not a regular smoker as she coughed several times. It was a pretty sad sight and if she hadn't been so visibly depressed, I might have started laughing. As it was, I simply maintained my silence.
Suddenly she seemed to perk up a bit. She headed back to the car and told me she was ready to leave. I slid behind the wheel and got the car in motion. Unlike before, she asked me to lower the tinted glass divider between me and the passenger compartment "so we can talk."
This was far from a typical situation as most (but not all) of the celebrities I had chauffeured in the past had seen me more as a part of the car than as a person. It was a nice change to be treated like this and I said so, hoping it wouldn't make her change her mind.
To my relief, she laughed and asked me how I had come to be a limousine driver. I gave her the two minute version, thinking she had asked only to be polite. To my surprise however, she prompted me for more information, asking about the small town in which I grew up. She truly seemed interested in my response and I felt more and more as if I was on a first date, with the odd twist of my partner riding in the backseat instead of along side me.
In return for my story, Brooke (as she had told me to call her) shared a few tales of behind the scenes events, all of which where humorous, often with her as the one looking silly. I was impressed with her ability to laugh at herself and found myself becoming enchanted with her to a degree beyond her physical attractiveness. I actually began to forget that she was relatively famous and started to think more of her as a friend.
We began trading stories, with me relating some of the funnier episodes I had witnessed, such as the couple that had sex in the car without realizing the intercom switch was on or the star couple who got so drunk I had to pull over so they could toss their cookies by the side of the road. I was careful not to mention any names but she enjoyed them anyway.
About forty five minutes later, she suddenly said she was hungry and asked me to pull into the parking lot of a pizza parlor we were passing. At her request, I went in and ordered a pizza and waited twenty minutes or so until it was ready. She apologized for not getting out and I assured her I understood her desire for anonymity.
Soon enough we were back on the road and she directed me to a nearby park. Once the car was parked, she stepped out and I carried the pizza to a picnic table. Still in the mind frame of employee, I hung back until she insisted I sit down and eat with her. I wasn't really hungry but to be polite (and allow myself to further enjoy her company), I sat down and nibbled on a slice while she dug in. We continued to chat about Los Angeles and the people we had encountered.
By the time she was finished eating, it was almost ten o'clock and she directed me to her Bel Air mansion. I pulled into the driveway and helped her from the car. As I escorted her to the door, she slipped her arm into mine and leaned her head against my shoulder. She fumbled in her purse for the keys and trying to be gallant, I took them from her and opened the door.
I expected at this point to be thanked and sent on my way but Brooke pulled me towards her then leaned in close and kissed me. I was somewhat surprised but figured she felt much as I did, namely that we had passed a friendly evening together. Her next words shocked me.
"Henry, you have had contact with a lot of famous women. Tell me, have you ever fucked any of them?"
To this point I had only had one such encounter (with actress/model Elizabeth Hurley) and I wondered how to answer. However, before I could say anything, she spoke again.
"Never mind. You are a gentleman and a gentleman wouldn't say anything anyway. It doesn't really matter if you have or haven't, but I'm hoping you'll fuck me tonight."
I was stunned that she would be so blunt but definitely willing to fulfill her wish. She could tell I was obviously unsure what to do and so she took the initiative. She leaned in close to me and pressed her lips against mine. I confess I was a bit tense but quickly began to relax. Brooke pushed things forward by sliding her tongue between my lips and we held each other tightly as we shared a long French kiss.
As the kiss ended, she pulled me into the house and the door swung closed behind us. We kissed again before she moved her lips along my neck towards my shirt collar. I held her ass in my hands and pulled her crotch against mine. By now I was erect and she could obviously feel my hard-on pressing against her.
In spite of my excitement, I found myself wondering why she was doing this. I mean, she was a well-known entertainer and I was simply a chauffeur. I pulled away just a bit and she looked up at me, an expression of curiosity in her eyes. While I searched for a way to state my concerns without spoiling the mood, she solved my dilemma for me.
"Henry, we are both adults. No, this isn't a standard procedure for me. Yes, I am lonely and a little depressed. But I'm not doing something I wouldn't do had we met under different circumstances. We aren't likely to find ourselves together again so lets just share the time we have together."
