This is one in a series of stories based on the premise of selling myself as a call girl catering to rich and famous women, managed by CaCee Cobb, Jessica Simpson's former personal assistant. For the background story, you should read "Serving Jessica", but this story can also stand on its own.
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The cab pulls to the curb and the passenger window slides down. The driver leans over, cued by the white rose in my hand. "You have an appointment with 'Miss H?" he asks cryptically. I lean down to assure him I do, shielding my eyes from the late afternoon sun. Then I quickly slip into the back seat and the driver speeds away, across Santa Monica Boulevard toward Beverly Hills. I wonder if he knows the nature of my appointment.
My stomach is all a-flutter as the cab winds through the streets, past the brick and stone walls built to protect the privacy of the rich and famous. I should be used to this by now, but the first encounter is always a thrill. And besides, this one is different. This is Katherine Heigl, the girl who, for me, is the real "anatomy" in Grey's Anatomy. I can't believe that within the hour I will be going down on her, pleasuring her in every way I can think of. I make a mental note to give Cacee a special "thank you" for finding this one.
I'm feeling sexy and confident, adorned in an outfit I just purchased, a pink silk top over a tight little black miniskirt. I've also put a little curl in my hair, something I rarely do. The whole package is not a style I would normally pick for myself (I tend toward simple things), but it works well for my job. I've learned from experience that my "clients" expect a certain look from me. It may differ from one woman to the next, but there's a common thread throughout, and that is to look classy - sexy, but classy. So unless a client has a specific request for a "look", I go with this.
The taxi pulls into one of the driveways, up to the intercom at the gate. The driver talks to a disembodied female voice and in moments the gate opens. We travel up the short drive and as we reach the house, I see her standing out front, waiting for me. She smiles broadly and waves, as she would to someone she's known for years. I assume it's a show for the driver.
Looking at Katherine now, I feel a little overdressed. She looks so wonderfully casual, more like a pretty coed than a famous Hollywood star. She is wearing a pale green t-shirt with a little Minnie Mouse over her left breast, and below it, bright pink Capri pants that fit oh so perfectly and showcase the delightful curves of her hips and thighs. Her hair is pulled back in a short ponytail, and a pair of pink and green flip-flops provide the finishing touch, displaying her cute, perfectly pedicured feet. It's a look you might see on any college campus, though my guess is that those simple clothes cost more than most college girls make in a month.
My god, she is so beautiful! Her face is healthy and glowing, her smile a light, even in the bright afternoon sun. She's wearing a perfect amount of makeup, just a touch of eyeliner and a shimmering, pink gloss on her lips that makes her mouth look wet, shiny and incredibly sexy. And her body! Damn. No anorexic Hollywood star here, not this one. Katherine's is the classic female form, voluptuous in the best sense of the word. Her thin, cotton top does little to hide the delectable bulge of her full breasts, while her hips, curvy and womanly in those hot pink Capris, make me want to grab them and dig into her with no further preliminaries.
I pay the cabbie and head toward the front door. Katherine has already turned and is walking in front of me, her hips swaying provocatively as she moves. As she reaches the door she turns and offers her hand as I climb the few steps of the stoop. She seems so sweet and down to earth. I tell her my name and say politely, "I'm so pleased to meet you, Ms. Heigl" and she quickly corrects me: "People call me Katie." I say "Okay, Katie" with a smile, but inside I know she'll always be Katherine to me. It's the name I've known her by and the name I've fantasized about.
Katherine subtly looks me over, seemingly sizing me up. "You're so petite," she says. "For some reason I expected someone in your profession to be ... oh, I don't know ... larger than life or something." she laughs at herself and her preconceptions. "Whatever," she concludes.
"Katie" opens the door for me and we go inside. It's magnificent, of course, huge and exquisitely decorated, but I've grown accustomed to this lavishness from the other star's homes I've been in. I expect her to offer me a seat, but she doesn't. Instead, we both stand there in the large foyer, facing each other. I feel slightly uncomfortable until I realize that she just wants to get started. No preliminaries this time, no small talk, just get to it. That's fine with me, as I am ready, too.
I can see now that Katherine is definitely not wearing a bra. Her taut nipples poke out seductively under her light cotton tee. Making the first move, I use my finger to tweak one of them through the thin fabric. "Well," I playfully tease her, "someone's glad to see me." She laughs softly and cutely bites her lower lip, embarrassed that I have exposed her arousal. Then she breathes an admission, "I've been thinking about this all day, once I knew for sure you were coming. I'm so damned horny!"
Wow, that sounds good. "Well then," I respond, reaching boldly for her waist, pulling her closer, "I guess we shouldn't make you wait any longer." She's much taller than I and I'm glad I wore my highest heels to partially bridge the gap. I raise my head slightly to brush over those full, lush lips with my own, licking delicately over them. Just this tiny, intimate touch has me totally aroused already. I let the tender kiss linger for a while, then push firmly in, rotating my head slightly as my tongue moves into the moist pit of her mouth. She responds immediately, an almost imperceptible moan as her tongue moves hotly over mine and we writhe softly against each other.
I let my hands roam over her body, up and down her back, stimulating her, but also stimulating myself. I move to the gentle curve of her ass, caressing her soft buns with my open palms. The thin fabric of her pants lets me feel every contour of her butt, almost as if it were already bare. A quiet "Mmmmm" tells me she likes the feel of my hands there. Her hands are on me, too, though she's definitely not as aggressive as I am. She moves daintily on my body, mostly holding onto my waist, squeezing me there as she responds to what I'm doing to her.
We make out for a minute or so before I pull back, looking into her pretty blue eyes, trying to gauge her feelings. We're both breathing hard now, our temperatures rising.
