**All of the events herein described are fictional. Also don't read if underage. **
It was the year 1997, when Jennifer Connelly gave me a blowjob at her place.
We'd met before, in 1989, on the set of Career Opportunities when she was eighteen going on my then nineteen. I had snuck into the Target they were shooting at one night, just for the fun of it, yet people started handing me assignments left and right, and before you knew it, I was an uncredited part of the crew. The great thing about it, though, was meeting Jennifer. I can still remember, during my second day, when the director yelled action and every member of the crew, much like the characters themselves, was gawking speechless at the young woman riding a coin-op mall horse; long dark hair flowed behind her, highlighting her deep blue eyes, and the crimson red of her smile, her delicate skin showing through a low cut tank top and her legs tightened by black pants, as the steady Freudian movement made her large breasts bounce within the confines of her outfit. I was in love.
After the director yelled cut, I ran over to the young woman who had startled me so, and I started a conversation with her. We hit it off right away. We became best friends during the making of the film (mistaken for a crew member, I was constantly around), and so, I knew of her birthday beforehand when it arrived that December night.
As a birthday present, I rented all her favorite movies, and decorated her trailer with the things she loved the most. When the surprise was revealed to her, she hugged me, and I felt her sweet mounds pressing against me. Boy, they were big.
We sat and watched those movies until two o'clock in the morning, when she had fallen asleep on top of me and I turned the TV off. Incidentally, the sound of the static woke her up. She asked me the time and I told her.
"Thank you for a wonderful birthday," she said, as she wrapped her hands around my face and caressed the sides of my cheeks.
I leaned forward, not knowing what to expect, seconds before I felt her sweet lips upon my own. We kissed for a long time. I loved the taste of her lips, the feeling of her hands on my skin, her curves on top of me.
Eventually, I worked up the courage to move my hands to her ass. I squeezed it and I heard her moan into me. She kissed her way down my chin and neck, and started undoing my shirt.
"Thank you," she repeated before licking across my chest, and giving me several kisses. She sucked one of my nipples, and gently teased the other one. I brought her face back to mine and kissed her again. We brought her shirt over her head, leaving her in a tight black bra that barely concealed her endowments. I put my face in her cleavage as she held my hair, and I kissed that space between her breasts while undoing her jeans, and pulling them out. She started undoing my own pants at the same time. Now I lay on top of her.
"Are you sure?" I asked her. She responded with a nod, then she pulled me closer and started nibbling on my earlobe. I removed both her underwear and my own, and I went inside her.
She moaned softly, once again gripping my hair in her fist. I thrusted slowly, giving me time to keep making out with her, enjoying every single moan from her. With each thrust, her moans turned into a higher and higher pitch. I started increasing my speed. Her breasts were bouncing within their confines until I reached around her back and snapped the garment open. I threw her bra away and marveled at her globes. I kissed her again and she kept moaning. My hand moved to gently squeeze her breast. My other hand reached down to play with her vagina.
"Make love to me," she said, "Cum inside me."
I continued going into her, my mouth latching on to one of her magnificent tits. Another moan from her sent me over the edge and I came inside her.
Before we fell asleep into each other's arms, I declared my love for her.
"I love you too," she said.
...
I woke up the next morning to find her gone. She must have started another day of filming. I went to the flower shop and got her a red rose. I wanted to spend my life with this woman I loved who loved me back. Yet I went to the set, and she was nowhere to be found. I went back to her trailer, and our mess had been cleaned up: no birthday decorations, no VHS tapes on the TV, no black bra on the floor. I went back to the set, where they filmed around her. The director had noticed me working in every aspect of the production --though he didn't know it was due to my lack of a proper title-- and offered me a job in his next film. I accepted. Then, as if sensing her presence, all of us turned to the right, to see Jennifer Connelly sprinting towards us... holding hands with Don Johnson. It was supposed to be a secret affair, but Don had wanted to show her off for her birthday. Jennifer looked at me, apologetically. I couldn't listen to anything they said, like someone had muted the world around me. I needed to sit down, alone, so I left the set and stepped on the red rose I'd bought for her before.
...
By pure chances of fate, I moved up the corporate ladder in Hollywood during the next few years. I ended up being a talent agent who represented the wealthiest people in LA: my ability to sneak around and get jobs proved very handy.
The year was 1997 and Inventing the Abbots had just come out. I found myself at a Gatsby-esque party looking to represent Liv Tyler or Joaquin Phoenix. Enough years had passed that I thought I'd forgotten about that night in 1989, when I'd lost my virginity to a beautiful woman who had left me for someone else. I hadn't. As she came down the steps like a femme fatale in a classic movie, all the old feelings came rushing back to me. Jennifer Connelly was wearing a long white dress with all the elegance of a classic star. I fell in love all over again, yet I didn't want to talk to her, afraid my hurt feelings might come to the surface. She didn't recognize me right away, but once she did, she smiled and walked over to me.
"Hi," she said.
"Oh, hi," I answered.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" she asked.
"Yes, I don't think Don Johnson is even famous anymore," I snapped back, just like I was afraid I would.
Her smile wore off.
"That's not fair," she said.
