One of the reasons she took this job was her need for some time away from her husband Cash... since with a net worth of around $200M, she sure as hell wasn't strapped for money.
She hoped some time apart could rekindle the flame between them. Things had become so tepid.
That's why she was in France filming a movie that likely would never be seen by anyone, although she was getting a reasonable paycheque and a five-weeks trip to Paris... a city she'd always loved.
...
The movie was two weeks into filming... and there was no doubt about it, she was smitten by one of the younger stuntmen. There was just something about him, although she couldn't put her finger on it.
He just had a look that turned her on. And a smug confidence that also did it for her. Truth was, she'd always liked the bad boys... just like some of her characters did on film. A man who could take charge in the bedroom. A man who knew how to treat a woman behind closed doors.
He was twenty-one, so about half her age, and not a guy she should even be thinking about sexually... but she was. She blamed it on her lack of a sex life... she really needed a good pounding. Truth was, in many of her roles she was a bad ass, while in other roles she was portrayed as a sweet, innocent girl. These opposite personas existed in her own life as well, although not in the same ways. In real life she was often seen as America's sweetheart: a great mother, and an advocate for charity groups... all true. Jessica was always a mother first, and she'd do anything for her children. She also had a huge heart, and she wanted to help the less fortunate in any ways she could.
These tendencies were countered by her persona in the bedroom, where she loved being treated like a slut. She loved sucking cock, getting her face fucked so roughly that balls bounced off her chin, taking facials, swallowing cum, being called names, getting really pounded, having her hair pulled, her ass spanked, and, although this only happened after she'd had a few drinks, getting her asshole pounded... and all that had still been true a couple years ago.
Bewilderingly, unlike the leading man in this movie who drooled over her just like men often did, this stuntman didn't show any interest in her at all.
In one scene where she was catapulted through the air in one of her many unrealistic action scenes while dressed only in lingerie and black stockings, the stuntman was the stand in who caught her. The scene went through multiple takes, and Jessica was getting horny from his firm hands catching her again and again... firmly gripping her ass each time. Yet she was also feeling frustrated, since he didn't say a word to her during any of those times he held her in his strong arms. Not once. It was like he didn't care at all that she was in his arms. Which she was far from used to. Men
always
drooled over her... admired her from afar... desperately wanted to talk to her... even asked point blank if they could fuck her. She was always, regardless of whichever production she was in at the time the center of attention. And she'd had that kind of attention on her ever since she was in high school... and she'd revelled in that acclaim for her entire life... that sexual power which instilled a strange confidence in her.
So when she was steadfastly ignored by this man, she didn't know what to do... she'd never experienced this before.
Which gave her insecurities she hadn't had since her pregnancies when she'd gained weight. Back then she'd struggled at first with her changing body, but she soon came to accept it. Then after giving birth she'd exercised and dieted hard to regain her pre-baby body. Then until now she'd felt even though she was aging that she was still as beautiful as she'd been in her youth.
This... not rejection, since she hadn't offered him any overtures... but indifference she guessed it was... was brand new to her.
She didn't like it.
Actually, she hated it.
Even though the frequency of scripts being offered to her had slowed down in the past few years and her accolades as the sexiest woman in the world were in the past, she still exuded a sexuality that drew both men and women to her like moths to a flame.
Ironically, while she was annoyed at being ignored by this stuntman, she was equally annoyed at the unwanted attention she was receiving from the lead actor. He was good looking, charming and suave, but she saw all that as fake, and had she literally no interest in him. She'd known men like him for her whole life... guys who thought fame automatically delivered a smorgasbord of chicks to him to pick and choose between... which of course normally it did. Except for Jessica. He did nothing for her.
The actor's flirtation, blunt inuendo and his hands on her ass on a couple occasions, only pissed her off. She usually loved attention. But she'd aways hated the pretentious assumptions of men who thought they could just do whatever they wanted to a girl without even checking in for permission.
Which made him repulsive to her. She couldn't explain why, but the good looking, nobody stuntman with his obliviousness to her, got her wanting him to do the things to her the star kept trying to force upon her.
Yet he ignored her completely in the same way she'd always ignored the guys who'd drooled over her for years. In retrospect she was likely being mean, although she'd never thought of it that way... but as this unknown continued ignoring her, which she wasn't used to happening... she became ever more determined to get to him.
One day she was wearing a white teddy and stockings that showcased every curve of her dynamite body... she may not still be on those top twenty most beautiful woman lists... but she knew she'd become the MILF of MILFs. Her tits were still firm at 34B, the perfect size, having grown from their pre-kids' 32B, and her easily stimulated nipples were still perky as fuck. Her legs, especially in these nylons the clearly nylon-perverted male director constantly had her wearing were really showcased, and were still as amazing-looking as they'd been in her so-called peak years. Her ass was also still fine as fuck... just made to be fucked.
She approached the stuntman, who was chatting with the younger version of her in the movie (who was needed for a dozen flashbacks throughout this often confusing script), and asked in her usual voice, which was usually enough to melt any man, "Bart, can we talk?"
"Can't you see I'm busy? I'm talking to Amy." The stuntman bristled, dismissing the famous actress while chatting up the cute younger starlet. Truth was, he'd long since realized Jessica was into him. He also knew she was married. And he
also
knew the best way to manipulate a sexy celebrity into becoming his little fuck toy was to be cool, play hard to get, and to pretend she made no impact on him whatsoever. When the truth was every time he fucked Amy, who did indeed look a lot like Jessica, he called her Jessica.
Amy didn't love Bart calling her Jessica whenever he fucked her, but she loved the way he used his big, thick seven-inch cock to pound her like a cheap slut. Calling her names, fucking her face, pounding her pussy and coming all over her face. She usually hated this kind of treatment, and she only permitted it when it helped her to land the roles she wanted, like this one, when she'd been sodomized by the director and a studio head... her first ever double penetration.
"Oh-okay, sorry," Jessica apologized, not accustomed to being treated this offhandedly by anyone... especially by a mere stuntman. She stalked away, mortified at being rebuffed so disrespectfully.
That night back at the hotel she turned on some gangbang porn... which she'd never actually done... but had fantasized about a lot. She'd also never been spit-roasted or been double penetrated... so obviously never been fucked airtight... and never been part of a train... never had a bukkake flooding her body... yet these were all things she wished she could experience. But being a celebrity prevented her from indulging in such acts (of course performing such acts might have helped her to land the better roles, but she refused to sully her reputation like that). And now that she was married, she lived the most vanilla sex life of all vanilla sex lives. She was a major disappointment to the many boys, men, and even some women, who imagined her living a wild sex life that might someday include them.
That said, she did have a sizable collection of toys. She'd only brought a couple with her to Paris... and one of those was a seven-inch vibrator with a dozen speeds and a dozen patterns.
As she watched a blonde teacher dropping to her knees to start sucking one student's cock while stroking two other ones, Jessica slid her toy, buzzing on low with pattern five, while she watched intently. She'd always thought if she wasn't an actress, she'd have become a teacher. So porn scenes about teachers always turned her on. The idea of lots of students using their eager teacher 'Ms. Alba' as a cum slut was so hot!
As she watched the flick, her pussy gradually firing up, she closed her eyes and imagined Bart bending her over the car she'd be driving later that day after his earlier rejection, and just using her. She knew without a doubt he had a big cock. Guys like him... guys who walked with the same swagger as the star of the film, always had big cocks... and a big cock was enough to enable a guy to do a lot of things. In her younger days she'd fucked more than a few undesirables just because they had a huge dick and knew how to use it. They might have been overweight; they might have been average looking, or they might even have been complete assholes... but a big cock leveled the playing fields in their favour.
And any woman who says size doesn't matter, is either lying or being nice... or likely both. Sure, a decent sized cock on a man with the right looks and skills could do wonders for a gal too... but nothing can compare with a seven-inch or bigger cock with some girth to it. Nothing at all.
In her fantasies, Bart's cock was a solid seven inches with a slight upward curve, and it was fat as fuck... just the way she liked it. She'd test driven a couple of bigger cocks: eight was still good, nine even better, but that ten-inch monster belonging to a famous actor (who'll remain unnamed so I don't get sued) made her literally unable to walk properly the next day, and everyone on the set knew why.
In her fantasy he simply walked over to her, shoved her against the wall, reached under her dress and rubbed her pussy, asking, "You like that, slut?"
W-w-what the fuck are you doing?" Jessica stammered
(in her fantasies always playing hard to get). She didn't get turned on my rape fantasies or anything else that extreme, but she loved the idea of her prim and proper exterior being destroyed with only minimal consent from her.
"Don't play dumb," he growled earthily. "We both know what you want."
"We do? Then what do we want?" fantasy Jessica countered, looking into his eyes with a strong will like most of her characters... even as, of course, she made no attempt to halt the man's strong hand from rubbing her pussy through her panties.
