I looked up wanting to see myself with my pants down around my feet and with Jamie Lee on her knees and her mouth attached to my cock. She was giving me an incredible blowjob and I was humping her mouth making the most of her milking my cock. Only, when I looked up, there was a man and a woman standing behind us by the door that led to the kitchen some sixty feet away. Not moving or saying anything, they stood silently watching us.
Immediately, I recognized who they were. How could I not? They were famous.
John Travolta and his beautiful wife Kelly Preston watched the sexual show that Jamie Curtis and I were having. She was striking and had an amazing body. She looked as beautiful as she did when she played Marni Mason in twins with Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger.
"Ahem," I said to Jamie. "Ahem," I said louder to Jamie, this time tapping her shoulder. "Jamie, psst," I said pulling away, stuffing my cock in my pants, and zipping up.
"You didn't cum in my mouth, yet," she said sitting back on her hunches and looking up at me with puppy eyes. It was then that she looked so desirable, cute, and sexy. It took all the self-control that I had not to unzip myself and whip out my cock, again. "You know how much I love it when you cum in my mouth," she said with a pout.
She made my knees weak when she said that. She made me feel so incredibly special. Suddenly, I felt proud that this celebrity loved it when I shot a load of cum in her mouth, but embarrassed at the same time that the celebrity couple standing behind us was privy to our personal and private sex talk.
Kelly giggled and John laughed.
"Don't let us interrupt," said John, "Please continue with what you were doing. We don't mind watching. It was quite erotic. Besides, it's sexually unhealthy, not to mention frustrating, to deny Jamie your cum."
"Yes, we were having a good time watching the action," said Kelly. "I felt like I was watching a sex scene on set. Action!" she said holding up her hands in the shape of a camera lens.
"You have guests," I said looking over her shoulder. Jamie was already in a panic looking behind her with a face of shocked embarrassment.
Suddenly, by Jamie's obvious embarrassment, Kelly was blushing red and showed great restraint in holding back her laughter. Her husband leaned against the staircase with his overcoat dramatically thrown over his shoulders and smoking a cigarette in one of those cigarette holders.
In the way that he looked with his short cropped hair, the position of his body and his body language, with his coat casually draped over his shoulders, and his cigarette holder much like the trademark ones that Truman Capote used, he looked gay. I heard rumors about him being gay or bi-sexual and in the way that he had stared at my exposed cock I now wondered if it was more than rumor. Of course, I leapt to the next conclusion that if John Travolta was gay or bi-sexual, I wondered if Kelly Preston was lesbian or bi-sexual. You never know about these Hollywood types.
"Oh, my God, I forgot you were coming." Jamie turned bright red as she stood up from her kneeling position. "What time is it?" She put her hands through her hair. "The house is a mess."
"It's just after noonish," said John slowly and looking at his watch that adorned his wrist as slowly as he spoke. He took another small puff of his cigarette in the way that I imagined Marlena Dietrich doing in the 1930's. He looked high and in that moment, I saw him as Vincent Vega, the character he played in Pulp Fiction.
"I missed my flight," said Jamie. "I forgot that I offered you the house for the weekend. I'm so embarrassed she said turning to look at herself in the hall mirror and fixing her clothes."
"Don't worry about your flight. We flew here. I can fly you back, if you'd like."
"It's a big enough house, Jamie," said Kelly looking from John to Jamie to me. "We can all stay here." She looked at me. "It will be fun."
Suddenly, I imagined Jamie naked on one side of me with Kelly naked on the other side of me while John sat in a chair at the foot of the bed watching me fuck his wife and watching his wife suck my cock. Stop it, Freddie, I said to myself. Not everyone is the pervert that you are. The Travolta's are probably the nicest married couple since Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. You just can't make blanket judgments about the sexual depravity of people just because they are celebrities. Not all famous people have low morals.
"It'd be more fun if we all shared the same bed," said John smiling at me before taking another puff.
