She fumbled from letter to letter. Her eyes scanned the pages for the gist of each document.
"Blah blah blaaah. Beautiful. Next! Blah blah blaaaah. Love HOUSE. Heard it! Yadda yadda yaddaaaa. Keep it up...AHHHHHH!!! WHY?!!!"
Abruptly, she threw down the stack on to the desk and wailed to herself in frustration.
"GOSH! These letters are all the same! I can't take it anymore! They have no BALLS to them! I mean, I'm Olivia FUCKIN' WILDE! Surely someone out there has something more to say to me than I'm amazing on House. I was number #1 on Maxim's sexiest celebs list last year! That's gotta warrant some dirty thoughts right there, doesn't it!?"
She sat back in her chair and let out a huge sigh of disappointment. She looked up to the ceiling and questioned her fate. There needed to be something more. Have people moved past superficiality already? Where were all the horny fucks these days? She rested her chin on her hand and thought for a second while she mindlessly scanned over her desk. Scripts and scripts for current and future projects, pictures of her hubby and her pets, random sheets of paper, a pudgy yellow envelope....Wait, pudgy yellow envelope?
Her eyes narrowed as she wondered how she missed this thing. "What the hell is this...?" She picked it up and looked it over. The address on the envelope told her it had to have been more fan mail. She tore it open and emptied the contents onto the table. A wrapped up cylindrical object plopped down along with a single sheet of paper. She gripped the gift in one hand and thought. It couldn't be...
She put the present down and shifted her attention to the letter. She carefully studied the words.
To the sexy Ms. Olivia Wilde,
"Hmm, I like it already..." She said to herself.
I debated back and forth in my head whether I should actually do this. I contemplated not if I should write this but how. I thought maybe I should be professional about this and praise you for what you would want to be praised for: your acting ability, your humanitarian efforts etc.
She groaned. "Please, don't. Gosh, please don't." She resumed reading:
And while I do admire you for everything you've done on HOUSE and your charity efforts, I'd be lying to myself and to you if I told you that my adoration of you ended there.
I fantasize about you. I fantasize about you a lot. It started off innocently enough but then it turned into something else. I'm not going to hide it OLIVIA. I admit my obsession for you. I'm WILD for WILDE. I can't watch a HOUSE episode without whipping out my cock. You're so fuckin' hot OLIVIA. It's that plain and simple to me. One (extended) look of your face and you have me bothered. Your long brown hair, eyebrows, the eyes, the shape of your lips, the blush you wear on your cheeks. You're perfect OLIVIA.
Upon reading those words, she shot up in her seat in excitement! "FINALLLLY!!!" She exclaimed. "SOMEONE WHO FUCKING GETS IT!!!!" Her faith had been restored. She anxiously read on to see what this fan had in mind.
Do you remember the photo of you reading a script? A look of shock was on your face. Your mouth was wide open.
"Why yes I do," she giggled. "What about, stranger?"
Well if I could, I'd plug -- NO, RAM -- my cock between those voluptuous lips and down that pretty throat of yours.
Her toes curled with those words. Her fingertips tingled. Robotically her hand moved toward her tight jeans. She rubbed her crotch through her bottoms.
You see OLIVIA, I want you kneeling before me. I want to see those pretty green orbs staring up at me as I prepare to invade your senses. I'll clutch the back of your head by the hair and direct you toward my throbbing stone-like member. Do you like it rough Olivia? Because I most certainly do.
"YESSSSSSSS..." She moaned as she unbuttoned her jeans and slid her hand into the waistband of her panties. She closed her eyes and pictured herself in this situation. She felt the pain of her scalp. She saw the cock in front of her. Although unspecified by him, she envisioned something a little above average. Perhaps a nice thick 6 inch shaft. Her fingers massaged her lips which were already riddled with moisture and slowly entered her temple. She read on...
In and out. In and out. Sliding off and on my cock OLIVIA. I control the pace. 'How does it taste?' I'd ask you. Of course, you're not in a position to give me a full answer. I'll take your moans and "mmm's" as signs that you are enjoying yourself. And why wouldn't you? You're just a cock slut, aren't you OLIVIA?"
She gasped at how blunt he was being. Yet she loved it! He wrote as if he was speaking to her directly. He was twisted and she knew it. Did that make her deranged too for going along with this? She answered her question by pushing herself further. Two fingers, then three. She mouthed that word again.
SLUT.
The phonetics made it sound so vulgar. It was so degrading. She needed to be degraded.
