Note- Another fictitious tale of celebrity that is far from true.
xxx
Emma Watson, along with most of the country, was happy and relieved when the hot and humid Summer of 2018 finally broke. The enchanting young actress had been restless and unable to sleep at night, and as a consequence had taken to walking outside in the street after midnight in a attempt to get sleepy. In an unexpected twist she had rediscovered her inclination for having anonymous sex with strangers. No strings attached, no judging, and no questions asked just hot and steamy sex. Well, one man in particular really, had provided Emma with the opportunity for a crazy fuck in a bookstore and in a car parking lot. Much to her embarrassment though the erotic encounter had backfired badly when her paramour had left her high and dry, naked and outside on the twenty fifth floor of her apartment building.
"Bastard!"
With the help of the concierge, together with the lateness of the hour, the unclothed Emma had managed to regain access to her top floor apartment without being noticed. Seething with anger she vowed to get even with the creep if ever they crossed paths again.
x
It was around eight when Emma arrived by cab to the function, although it was very close to the Liberty Towers building in Canary Wharf where she lived. As her new movie project was now nearing pre-production the studio was actively searching for individual financers who might help with the money risk. It was to take part in an old fashioned wine bar by the waterside and Emma was pleased to get out and about. She had taken to sleeping by day and staying up until sunrise before finally crashing out in an exhausted sleep. The night air was a little misty and she smiled to herself on her good choice of outfit
"Hi there!" She waved as she went inside. Deciding to take a leaf out of Cara Delevingne book she had on a Saint Laurent trouser suit and crisp white shirt buttoned up all the way to her elegant neck. On her tiny feet she had slipped on a pair of black Paul Andrew high heels. Her shoulder length light brown hair was loose and she had chosen her favourite mascara around the eyes. She was greeted by the organiser, Roger Bailey, a warm hearted fellow who began to introduce her to some of the prospective financiers. By the time she arrived the event was well under way and she was happy to mingle despite her uneasy commitment to public functions such as these. The location was an intimate stand or sit down venue with bespoke menus and thoughtfully chosen wine. Emma took a glass of Chardonnay as Roger steered her toward potential wealthy backers.
"And this is Giles Brandon. He represents a consortium of British backers from Surrey."
A tall man in a blue suit and tie with floppy hair that came to his brows came over and they both smiled and shook hands politely until the realisation that they had already met sank in.
"YOU!" They said in sync as the recognition came to them both.
It was none other than Mister bookstore from that unforgettable humid night when they had fucked each other in his car before he chose to ride off without a word. Giles held her hand without relinquishing it until Emma forced it free.
"Would you mind if I have a private word with Mister Brandon, Roger?" Said she, finding it extremely difficult to keep her cool.
"Certainly, hope you can come to some equal endorsement."
Emma strolled over to a convenient corner of the bar where the light was dimmer. She was followed by Giles who then reeled in surprise from a firm smack on the left cheek.
"You bastard! You left me right in it that night! What sort of sick pig are you?"
Giles squared his broad shoulders and looked her right in the eye. The last time he had looked into those dreamy, heavy lidded eyes he had been driving his stiff cock deep into her snug pussy, her slender legs wrapped around his waist. Her words of lust even now echoed in his ears.
"Don't stop! Fuck me harder!" She had implored.
"Well! And where is my red dress?"
Emma could feel her heart pounding in her ears as she crossed her arms and her heel tapped on the stone floor like a tattoo.
"So, you're Emma Watson! I had no idea that night. I was just looking for a cheap thrill."
As soon as he spoke he knew he had chosen the wrong words. A couple passed them in a huddle sipping wine as Emma stared into his dark brown eyes. The last time she had looked into the same eyes the pair of them were in a haze of sweat and lust, locked together in a steamy clinch in the back of his Audi 8.
"A cheap thrill? You're calling me cheap!" She threw her left arm out in disgust.
"You want me to leave? We can still be friends."
Emma fumed as she turned her face from his. This was in fact the first time she had heard him speak. The previous time they had been together was a daring, adrenaline filled visit that saw them part suddenly and unexpectedly. She decided now she hated his educated accent with his perfect white teeth and infectious smile. Fuck! Why did he have to be so good looking!
"I'm definitely NOT your friend. Creep." She frowned and shifted her weight as the six footer with the gorgeous shaggy brown hair moved behind her.
"May I say that I'm sorry?"
"Bit late, feller."
Her heel still tapped on the floor uncontrollably as his arm brushed hers and his body pressed against her back, Was it her imagination or was that his hard on pushing on her bottom through her trousers? Emma turned her head and his nose almost touched her right cheek. If he moved only one millimetre closer his lips would meet her skin.
"You're so annoying!"
She turned to face him and looked at him as if for the first time, which in a sense was close to the truth. The muscular man seemed to ooze sexual energy from every pore as he awaited her next words. Damn his eyes! Damn his stunning lashes that cast a tiny shadow on his fabulous high cheekbones! Damn his oh, so kissable lips! She lifted her glass of wine and took a deep swallow.
"Another drink? Chardonnay, am I right?"
Giles felt his mouth dry up despite his outer calm look. His natural instincts made him want to take her in his arms and kiss those dreamy lips. His gaze lingered on her lustrous straight hair and groomed brows. He yearned to stroke her soft creamy skin and then throw her down and fuck her brains out. Emma walked briskly to the bar with him in tow and accepted the refill of white wine and took another big gulp. The wine soothed her throat and her ardour as she tried to ignore the pesky Brandon.
"You don't have to follow me everywhere." She berated the hovering fellow.
"I was just thinking if you ever, you know, thought about that night, ever."
Emma sighed as she began to tire of the man's persistence.
"Not in a good light."
In fact she could recall every dirty detail as if it were yesterday.
"Are you not drinking?"
"No. Alcohol decreases my libido. I like to keep my end up." He grinned inanely. She turned to him and blinked twice, then looked down at his groin and up again quickly.
"Are you getting hard?"
Emma sneered and shook her head and indicated to the barman for another drink. What a nerve this guy had.
"Looking for another quick shag? Look elsewhere." She scoffed.
