September 2013
I am a 24-year-old living in Hollywood, and I can afford to rent a $9,500 starter home in the Hollywood Hills. And if you didn't already envy and/or hate my guts enough, that home I wanted was being put up for rent by Salma Hayek.
If you can still stand to listen to me after hearing that, I'll go on for you.
I went up the hills to inquire about the house, figuring I'd be going over it with a realtor. Instead, Salma Hayek herself greeted me.
From what I gathered when I started listening, she was shooting a film right now and it gave her time to work out selling the house, while her husband was back in Paris. Therefore, she led me through her nearly 3,000 square feet of land, her four bedrooms, three bathrooms, her in ground pool and the clear view of the hills.
The view of her in a plain white dress was even clearer at times - even without a v-neck. And I read she had just turned 47 this month? I knew the newspapers and the Internet had to tell the truth once in a while, but that couldn't be one of those times. But if IMDb also agreed...
In any case, once I proved I could afford the place, I hoped that would get us closer to a deal. Yet Salma explained that she couldn't just hand it over to the first person who asked and had the money.
Part of me figured it was a ploy to nudge me into upping my offer - and I wondered if part of her figured I'd just do whatever she asked. Whether from my need for the house, or the ease she must have had in making men give in to her. What she asked me to give into next surprised me, however.
Since she would be doing afternoon shoots for the next several days, she offered to let me stay in the house, at least during the hours she worked.
I'd drive here every morning, take care of the place and prove I could do a good job, use the amenities and decide if I wanted to do so every day, and then head out soon after she came back. If I liked it and she saw I was a good caretaker, it would help my case and set the bar for other future candidates. She even said I could use her pool if I got too bored.
I had a job where I could take a few afternoons off for this test. And so, I spent my afternoon staying in and getting adjusted to Salma Hayek's home - my potential future home. If your jealousy is still under control, just hold on a little while longer.
On the third afternoon, I made sure to bring my swimming trunks, a white shirt I didn't mind getting wet in, and goggles. I waited till mid-afternoon to make my way into the water, figuring I'd swim around, get out and get dry before Salma returned.
I didn't think I had enough fun to lose that much track of time - not until I saw Salma heading out back. "Oh, damn!" I said before I stopped myself. "Am I that late?"
"No, I'm that early," Salma explained. "We had to move a scene to tomorrow."
"Ah. Then I'll get out of your way," I offered, starting to swim my way to the steps.
"Nonsense. My schedule got cut short, I shouldn't make yours do the same," Salma figured. "I could stand to sit down myself." With that, she went to a chair near the side of the pool and laid down.
"Okay. I'll try to keep it down," I vowed.
Feeling a bit more self-conscious with company here, I didn't do much splashing around. Really, all I could do was go underwater, swim around and do laps, which I'd already been doing for a while. I tried not to notice that Salma might be watching, and after a while, I stopped looking over.
When I remembered to do it again, I saw that she was already gone. Perhaps it was a sign for me to get out and give her one less thing to keep an eye on.
Then she came back out and my eyes were glued to her - hopefully in appropriate places. Part of me didn't have that hope, though. Not with her now in a one piece, light black swimsuit that definitely had a v-neck - as strained as it was.
"It was getting too hot," I somehow heard her ironically say. "And you already had the right idea on how to cool off."
Her own idea to go into the pool was both right and potentially very wrong all at once. When she went underwater and then surged right back up, her face and upper body dripping and...glistening in the sunlight, it got more right and wrong than even I imagined.
I went to the other end of the pool to stop thinking about it, or at least to make sure she didn't see me...think about it. Yet even that didn't work.
"You know, if you're gonna live here, guests and famous neighbors are gonna want to visit. And even swim here. You'll have to be in the same end of the pool with them at some point," Salma pointed out. A lot of that was probably true - of course, I'd have to be on my best, non pervy behavior here to help make it true.
Gradually, I swam closer to Salma and let myself talk to her. Gradually, I started to swim around with her next to me. Gradually, I went underwater and did some maneuvers without checking her out, even when she went under as well. Gradually, time went by as smoothly as it did when I was all alone in here.
I wasn't too waterlogged to hear Salma's bits of gossip about the movie she was shooting - and I refrained from being too glad for her that it wasn't another Adam Sandler film. She presumably wasn't too waterlogged to hear more about my job and how it helped me afford a place like this.
Things were going so well, that even when it was time to come out and she came out of the pool, I remembered to breathe. Even with her naked upper back, the back of her long legs and her barely contained...almost Kim Kardashian level ass right in front of me. Seriously, only someone with her boobs wouldn't be famous for that ass alone.
Just a little while longer, and I could safely give that the thought it deserved at my own house. With that, I got out and made myself notice that there weren't any towels out here. "Is there any way to get towels without going in and getting the house wet?" I asked.
