This story is entirely fictional and is in no way connected with the subject. This story contains adult material and is only suitable for people over the age of 18. If you are under 18 please stop reading now. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living, dead, or undead, is purely coincidental. All characters portrayed in this story are over 18. Do not use this without my permission. (c) Copyright Viper_Noj 2002 onwards. Now, on with the story!
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Gillian Anderson sat by lamplight in her front room, a chick flick, and drinking a favourite wine of hers, red naturally. She'd already polished off a bottle and opened another, sipping the end of her first glass from it. She liked a good drink now and then, and since she was feeling a bit down she figured why not now. The problem was men, or rather the lack of them. Well…that wasn't strictly true. It was the lack of a specific man, someone who wanted her for who she was, not who they thought she was. She had plenty of men come onto her, all hoping to try their luck, and sure some of them were hot but too many of them were far too aware of it and seemed to think she'd just bend over for them, which wasn't the way.
She enjoyed casual sex now and then, and her looks and fame had helped her indulge that and live a full and adventurous sex life, however right now she wanted more of a keeper, or at least someone that would take
her
, Gillian Anderson to bed, and not go to bed with some image of Agent Scully as a personal play thing, breaking past the business suit as it were. She gave a sigh, reading through a magazine as she sipped at her red wine.
"I hate being single," she said aloud, despite being alone. She knew she
could
be enjoying a romp, with some young stud too, however she just didn't want to. They either didn't know who she was really, unaware of how big she'd been when on the X-files, which was something she did get off on she had to admit, or they
did
know and wanted to fuck Scully, not her. Gillian read through the magazine, all the various articles, interviews, fashion, problem pages and stuff about the newest sex toys out, which caught her eye briefly, though she was happy with the ones she had already. She reached the adverts, which took up around half of the magazine like every other these days. Unlike most people who closed it and wondered where most of their money went, she kept reading through it, picking up on a small advert hidden away under modelling.
"Wanted: Female model for student photography project. Ideally slim but, anyone considered."
It was very vague, and seemed very low-key as well, as stated something for a course with little money involved. All about the artistic merit as it were. She pondered for a moment, tempted by it, even though it was just someone using her for what she looked like, nothing long term. However they wouldn't know it was her coming, so wouldn't get any ideas about Dana Scully. She downed the rest of her glass, giving a satisfied sigh, feeling a little shiver run through her, the wine well and truly loosening her up.
"Oh the hell with it, why not," she said, putting down her glass and picking up the nearby phone, quickly dialling the number in the advert. She knew it was late, but had to do it right then. Being sober she'd never do it, it was a spur of the moment thing. It rang for a minute and then was answered by a tentative voice.
"Hello?" said a male voice, just as she'd figured it would be.
"Hi there, I'm calling about this advert you placed, wanting a model?" she purred, well at least she tried. She might just as well have slurred, being a little inebriated.
"Oh right…yes I'm still looking, you interested?" he said a little disjointedly, clearly not used to dealing with people, or perhaps she was purring really nice she figured. She was indeed purring nicely, and her American accent wasn't helping to keep him cool, since the fact a woman had decided to model for him was one thing, but she also seemed rather keen.
"I just have a few questions though, if you don't mind?" she said, pausing for him.
"Um sure, what you wanna know?" he said, a little concerned sounding, as if he was worried he'd lose his model before they'd even started.
"Well, would it show my face?" she said a little hesitantly, since she didn't really want to get recognised in some less then professional photo shoot. It would make her look rather easy and give even more guys ideas about getting her between the sheets for a quickie.
"Well, I hadn't thought about it, but if you don't want to we can work around that, it won't really affect the shoot I guess," he said, thinking about it for a moment.
"Cool, and is there anyone else coming?" she said, since she didn't need someone else there who'd blab about it. She was pretty sure she could convince him not to tell anyone who modelled for him.
"No…no just you, nobody else has called," he said quickly, making her smile a little, able to hear his heavy breathing over the phone.
"Good, nice to not feel part of a line of ladies waiting for you," she said with a smile, her voice taking a smooth tone as she did, hearing him give a stuttering breath.
"Nope, just you and me, have you all to myself," he said, almost groaning to himself at the end of the phone at the line he'd used, just because this woman happened to have a sultry voice.
"Good. Is there anything you'd like me to wear particularly, since I guess you don't have wardrobe being a student thing?" she asked, pondering what she could do.
"No I don't…it's sposed to be light and dark, using shadows, reflections, contrasts…stuff like that," he said, explaining his objective so at least she had some idea. Gillian pondered a moment, and then grinned to herself as a naughty thought crossed her mind.
"Well…I have a skin-tight black latex rubber catsuit, almost mirror shine. Perhaps that would work?" she teased, practically hearing his heart stop over the phone, which it almost did, before squeezing into a rapid pumping motion. He let out a heavy breath which barely refrained from a groan, something she'd heard from men countless times, usually not over the phone though, and couldn't help but give a slight giggle.
"Yeah that'd be just…wow…couldn't be better really," he breathed, his mind rushing with the mental image of this woman that he'd built up from her voice alone, wrapped in a black catsuit, moving at his whim.
"Excellent, I'll bring that along then. Anything else?" she said, making sure it was all settled.
"Um…yeah….what size are you? I mean like height, build and stuff you know," he quickly added, realising how rude he was to ask. She just smiled, surprising him with her bold answer.
"I'm five-foot-three, 34C, 25, 35, red hair, size seven feet," she said with a little laugh.
"Thanks," he said after a pause, "I didn't mean to be so rude," he quickly added, wanting to make sure she knew he wasn't like that.
"It's fine, so where is it and when would you like me?" she purred. After a bit more panicked and hasty breathing and fumbling of words he gave her the address and asked her to show up around six in the evening, which pleased her as it gave her more time to sober up and do something with her day.
"Excellent, I'll see you tomorrow then," she purred.
"Yeah, see you soon, can't wait to get you here…I mean get started," he fumbled, again almost groaning to himself at the pathetic line.
"It'll be soon enough, goodnight," she said with a giggle in her sultry tone, blowing a kiss down the phone and then hanging up. She laughed out loud to herself after she did, settling into a giggling fit as she poured herself another glass of wine, thinking of what was to come after her teasing of him over the phone, which she realised had got her more than a little turned on. Her nipples were stiff and pointing through her light top since she wasn't wearing a bra, and her pussy felt a little damp as well. The wine and her little phone fun had helped to get her going, and she pondered how she might deal with it, thinking to her trusty sex toys, which had never let her down when she was single. They'd certainly be getting a little run tonight…
Dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a top, her red hair down round her face and wearing sunglasses, Gillian strutted on a pair of black high heels to the door of the address she'd been given, a simple suburban flat. She pressed the bell, then stood back and waited, glancing around briefly till she glanced a shape through the glass of the door, which soon swung open to a guy in his early twenties. He had to be over a decade her junior with ease, taking him in from behind her dark glasses as he looked her over with wide eyes, taking her in.
"Hi I'm here for this photo shoot thing?" she said with a smile.