Disclaimer: This is an erotic story. You must be 18 to read this story, be able to read erotica in your community and not be offended by the contents of it. If you are not 18, live in an overly repressed community, or are easily offended, move on. This is not for you.
This story is fiction and as such is protected under the first amendment. The people referred to in this story do not behave this way in real life, this is a fantasy and any resemblance to real people or situations is merely a coincidence. Any copyrighted names, works, etc. remain property of their respective owner(s).
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By now anyone who has read more than one of my stories will have come to realize that I write some mushy stuff. I think it's because I'm a closet romantic. Also, I treat women with respect in real life, and the characters in my stories will always treat them with respect. Always. That doesn't mean the sex has to be goopy romantic stuff all the time, but I will never do anything that is nonconsensual. If that's not your cup of tea, so be it. If you like fluff, this might be your kind of story.
A very sincere thanks to all the authors who spend so much of their time and effort to bring these stories to us all. Your efforts are much appreciated.
And now the story -
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The door to the trailer slammed open just as it began to really pour, "Is it safe in here?"
I looked up to see who was speaking to me and found the subject of today's session gazing in my direction, "Safe?"
"Yeah, you know, from them." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the crowd of people she had left behind in the rain, the photographer and his staff, her manager's and agent's reps, magazine staff, PA's, makeup artist and all the other behind the scenes people that go into producing a photo shoot for a major magazine like Vogue.
I started to answer her when my cell phone rang, "Hello?... Yeah, she's in here with me... I know, I can hear it beating on the roof... Well, I could finish fitting her for the rest of the shoot... I don't know, figure two, maybe three hours. Say three hours... Yeah, yeah... Let me ask her... They want to know if you're hungry?"
"You have any food here?"
"Yeah, I raided the catering table earlier."
"Tell them no. And tell them I don't want to see or talk to any of them for a while."
I relayed the information to the person on the other end of the line, "Fine, three hours or less, weather permitting... Right, bye." I hung up the phone and looked at my guest for the next few hours.
Standing there in a light tan dress with a modest v-neck and colorful birds scattered across the fabric, was Katie Holmes. We were on location for a photo shoot for Vogue, six sets, six outfits, supposedly in ten hours, and here it was, 11:30am with only one setup completed, and it had just started raining. That is, if you consider your morning shower to be nothing more than a light drizzle. When the rain came all the staff and various entourage members had bolted for the makeup and production trailers, while Katie had taken off in the opposite direction for the wardrobe trailer. My trailer.
Go ahead, make jokes about it, it's not like I haven't heard them all before, usually stale retreads of hairdresser jokes. Yeah, I've had more than my fair share of schlongs waving in my vicinity -- what is it about guys that they feel it's okay to stand around naked when being fitted for a shoot, just because the person doing wardrobe also happens to be a guy? -- but, I am a professional and I do my best to ignore it and focus on my job. I've also had my fair share, and yours, and your friend's, and your friend's friend's, of female TV and movie stars running around in their underwear while being fitted. I'd like to tell you that they, too, like to stand around naked while I make adjustments to whatever outfit they're going to wear, but it just isn't true. Except for maybe Courtney Love and that wasn't nearly as much fun as you would imagine. No, for the most part when it comes time to try something on the women duck into a dressing room, or behind a screen or curtain, coming out only when they are ready for the final touches.
Katie looked at me questioningly and I gave her the answer she wanted "Yeah, you're safe here. I told them that we would complete the fittings on the rest of the wardrobe, have some lunch in the meanwhile, and you'd be out in around three hours. So you've got some time."
"And they won't come looking for me? They won't come in here?"
I walked over to the door and locked it then flipped a switch. The switch turned on a rotating red light outside the door, much like you would see on any soundstage, and when it was on it meant that someone, usually female, was inside being fitted and no one not involved in wardrobe, in this case me, was allowed in.
"As long as that light is on, no one would dare come in here unless the place was on fire, and I'm not even sure about then."
A disgusted look crossed her features, "Good. I've had my fill of all of them! Can you believe it, three hours and only one setup completed! God, if I have to listen to them complain about the position of the sun, or the sand getting on my feet, or the wind mussing my hair, or my dress, or a seagull getting in the frame for crying out loud!! ARRRRRRR!!! I could just scream."
"I think you just did."
Katie shot me an evil look, apparently she was in no mood to be teased, but I shrugged my shoulders. She continued to stare at me a moment more then threw her hands in the air and moved over to the couch along the wall, taking a seat on it.
"Three hours huh? Maybe the rain won't stop and we'll have to scrub the whole thing. Why do they do outdoor shoots if they hate nature so much anyhow?"
I knew it was probably a rhetorical question but I shrugged again and offered an answer anyway, "I don't know, but you know these editors, always looking for someplace 'fresh' to shoot. I can understand when you're pushing swimsuits, or you've got some no-name model, but when you're shooting one of the prettiest women in Hollywood, seems like a waste to me."
When I got no response I looked over to see if Katie was even paying attention and saw her looking at me with the most amazing smile, "What?"
"You think I'm one of the prettiest women in Hollywood?"
Oh. I blushed and glanced down at my shoes, then turned back to answer her, "Well, yeah. But you must hear that all the time from schmos like me."
Katie shook her head, "You'd be surprised. I mean yeah, I hear it all the time from people paid to keep me happy, or when I'm out at a party and some jerk tries to chat me up, but not that often from someone who doesn't want something from me. So, thank you."
Displaying unusual good sense, I didn't say anything, offering her only a smile which she quickly returned.
"Are you hungry?"
"I could eat something. Wha'd'ya got?"
We moved over to the table where I stashed my booty from my morning raid on the catering table. You might think that because it was early morning there were only pastries and breakfast foods along with a mixture of juices, teas and coffee being offered, but that is not the case. There's a pretty large crew for any of these location shoots, and some of the guys and gals arrive quite early to prep the spots in advance. So by the time the photographer and subject of the shoot arrive some people have already been working for 4 or 5 hours and are looking for something more substantial than donuts and granola. Having worked on these kinds of things for several years now I had learned to hit the tables as soon as the caterer arrived and take away enough food to get me and one or two others through the day, before it all disappeared. Photo shoots weren't like movie sets, they didn't order enough food to feed Wyoming. No, photo shoots were like feeding an extended family of 20 and ordering food for only 19. It could get ugly fast.
Selecting a few things from the table Katie grabbed a bottle of water and moved back to the couch. I filled a plate of my own and followed her, taking a seat to her left. We talked while we ate and managed to stay away from discussing the shoot and Katie's current frustration levels about it. We did talk about business somewhat, it's not every day you get to talk to Katie Holmes about her projects, what she liked and what she didn't. She didn't particularly like Dawson's Creek at the end, didn't like Joshua Jackson at the end, either. She liked 'The Gift', was proud of her nude scene in it and would do another one if the right script came along. I risked a joke that I was pretty pleased with her nude scene as well, Katie just laughed.
That had been happening quite a bit during our conversation, Katie laughing that is. She was a remarkably down to earth person, not at all impressed with herself, just a regular girl with a crazy job. I found myself liking her. A lot. And I think she liked me a bit as well. At least if the number of times she reached out to touch my arm or grab me by the hand was any indication.
We continued talking over lunch, moving from topic to topic easily and spending some more time discussing her chosen profession. We also talked in some detail about what I do for a living, which shocked me a little. When she saw I was surprised she asked me why.
"I just didn't think you'd be all that interested in it. I'm not all that interested in it."
"I'm an actress. I never know what the next part is going to call for, so I try to learn a little bit about everything... everyone I can. I may need it sometime, so I'm always practicing, always learning. I'm a student of everything."
"Everything?"
"Well, not everything. I'm not going to learn about John Ashcroft's career as a Gospel singer, a girl has her limits, but, yeah, almost everything."
I chuckled at the idea of Katie singing Gospel but made no further comment as I collected the empty plates and walked them over to the trash bin.
Lunch over, it was time to do a little work, although the rain had not eased one bit in the time since Katie entered the wardrobe trailer. Still, we had to at least prepare for the possibility that the shoot would resume, unlikely as it seemed at the moment. Katie had selected several sun dresses for her next outfit. One of them was green with spaghetti straps that closely resembled the garment she was wearing in some pictures that hit the Internet some time back. You know the one, it was green with brown and yellow splotches on it and she constantly looked like she was going to spill out of it, coming close enough on more than one occasion for her areola to peek over the top. Anyway, Katie selected a dress that was similar, prompting me to remark how much I liked the other dress and hoping this one fit just like it.
Her response was a dry "I'll bet."
One by one Katie tried on the garments and came out from behind the modesty screen that separated the changing area from the rest of the trailer. The green dress was among the first she tried on and rejected. Katie thought it made her look "frumpy". It was a sundress, so I'm not sure how it could make her look frumpy, but I've learned that it never pays to try to convince an actress to wear any dress that they've already rejected. That way lies madness. Similar fates awaited the majority of the others except for 2 outfits that she judged "possible". With her choices dwindling Katie disappeared behind the screen once more, only to reappear several minutes later wearing a pale yellow outfit.
"How's this?" with a quick twirl, causing the dress to billow out briefly before settling back into place.
"Very nice. How does it fit?"
"Perfectly. I don't think anything needs adjusting."
I gave a noncommittal "Hmmm." She was the movie star and the one wearing the dress, but I was the one being paid to make sure she looked gorgeous in whatever she wore. Moving over to her I began to inspect the garment, looking for signs of a bad fit, or something that would call for an adjustment, but she appeared to be correct, the dress fit perfectly. We agreed on that one as a potential for one of the setups, pending the approval of everyone else of course.
Katie went back behind the screen to try on the last outfit and I moved over to another rack and began to browse through the bra and panty combinations hanging there, "Do you want to try on some different underwear with that outfit?"
There wasn't much reason for her to change into the underwear I had in the trailer. The dresses she had chosen all looked best without a bra, and it's not like her panties were going to be visible in any of the shots, but you never could tell with some of these celebrities.
When I didn't get a response to my question I turned toward the screen with the intention of asking again, only to find Katie was already waiting there in her next choice.
