March 4, 2006
An Academy Award nominated actress was fucking me in the back seat of my car. On the day before the Oscars. Or so she told me at my favorite café this afternoon.
She said her name was Amy Adams, but it didn't ring a distinctive bell. If I'd seen that red hair and those big blue eyes on a big screen, though, I probably would have recognized it, but I didn't. She said she was nominated for a movie called 'Junebug' but that didn't ring a bell either.
She said that she was a big bundle of nerves the night before going to the Oscars for the first time. And she needed to unwind. Or at least give herself some hot memory to compose herself before millions of people.
That part I did get. Especially when I drove her to an alley and she started kissing me.
I had enough composure to get us into my backseat first, where 'Amy' got into my lap. She lifted up her light blue shirt, but there was no bra covering her two firm breasts. Once I bunched up her skirt, I did feel underwear on her ass, though.
As I felt her up, she went on to unbuckle and unzip my pants, pulling my cock out into the open. She pumped it quickly, so I tried to distract myself by kissing her tits and feeling around her ass and underwear. Yet her hand and thumb got me way too distracted before long.
This woman seemed like a sweet, kind of mousy girl next door when I talked to her in the open. Now she was a red headed vixen doing wonders with her hand. "You gonna cum for me?" she asked eagerly, seeming to enjoy her sexual power over me.
"Do I have to now?" I asked, trying to buy time.
"I guess I should catch up first," she concluded, taking her hands off me and putting my hands on her below. She gave me room to lower her skirt, then she removed my shirt as I put my hands into her panties.
'Amy' kissed and suckled on my neck and upper chest, as I felt around and inside her pussy. She didn't touch my cock, yet her lips -- above and below -- helped me stay hard and throbbing. Once her upper lips got on mine again, she lifted her hips to line her lower lips onto me.
Relief came when she lowered herself down, although I didn't want to feel that much relief so soon. Then again, if she really was an Oscar nominee, how much free time did she have? Then again again, why would an Oscar nominee need to fuck me to feel ready for the Oscars?
But she was fucking me now. Might as well figure out the rest later.
Before then, I went back and forth kissing her breasts, while keeping a hand on her ass and another into her hair. They both felt smooth and soft, and I gripped both of them harder once she started playing with my nipples.
My head laid back, giving me a full view of her beautiful body riding me. The full view of her filled pussy inspired me to rub it while I fucked her, as my other hand went up and down her back. When it got to her ass, she slammed her hips down on me faster.
"Fuck me...now I want you to cum," she urged. I felt like following her orders any second now. However, she only let me have a few more pumps before she lifted her hips up and came off me.
Once my cock was in the open, she covered it up with both her hands. I was entranced by her as she concentrated on my cock -- then when those baby blues focused like that on me, I was a goner.
Somehow, my cum didn't shoot on me, or on her hair or eyes. It got on her chest and as high up as her chin and right cheek, but no higher -- and nowhere too hard to clean up. After we caught our breath, Amy picked up her skirt and got out a tissue, then wiped her cum off me -- although she rubbed some of it on her upper chest.
"There. That should get my mind off a few things tomorrow," Amy praised. Still not completely believing her, and still in a bit of a daze, I just smiled and nodded.
The next night, when I indeed saw Amy Adams on TV and on the Oscar red carpet, I couldn't even do that bare minimum for the rest of the show. Even when she lost.
February 21, 2009
I never expected Amy Adams to be back at that café, the day before her second Oscars. I just went there as an inside joke on myself. Then again, me fucking her before she took off as a household name -- a fucking live action Disney princess at that -- was enough of a joke.
And yet there she was for the encore. She had sunglasses on and was a bit more inconspicuous, now that she was more famous. But the red hair and the clear shock she had at seeing me gave it away.
Nevertheless, she made herself go to my table anyway, although we obviously had no words at first. I tried with, "I wasn't following or waiting for you, I swear. This was just an inside goof."
"Same here," Amy told me. After that irony sunk in, all we could do is laugh.
With the ice broken, I brought up, "So now you're a Disney princess. And you're back at the Oscars for playing a nun." There were too many jokes I could make about that, considering things, but I had too many ideas to pick from.
"Nothing I haven't thought about already, believe me," Amy jumped ahead of me. "But the audiences buy it anyway."
"Or you make them suspend their disbelief very easily. Trust me," I tried to compliment.
"You haven't gotten married or had kids since...then, right?" Amy asked. I said no -- and didn't bring up her own still ongoing, long time relationship she forgot about that day. "And you still went to see Enchanted?"
"I pretty much had to," I told her -- forgoing the temptation to joke about her lyric that lips were "the only thing that touched." Which would also reveal just how much I had seen that movie -- more than a regular single, childless man in his early 30's would see a Disney film.
"You didn't seem like you recognized me in Junebug. But it was a small movie. Doubt was kind of small, but you saw that?" Amy checked.
"I'll save time and say I've seen all your movies now. All five of them since three years ago," I recalled. "Don't worry. You don't have to return the favor by watching my accomplishments. Once I actually have them, however..."
I had to backtrack, since I didn't want her to think she fucked a bum before Oscar night. Telling her about my job got me through the next few minutes, then Amy took over with some much more interesting Oscar season gossip. Yet I actually kept her interested for a good half hour more, before she had to go.
"The funny thing is I actually need a ride," Amy informed. "Let me guess...you still have our car."
"No. Tried to keep it as long as possible. But the engine wasn't as nostalgic as I was," I lamented. "My new ride's in the parking lot over there."
I walked her over to the nearby parking lot, to show off my slightly nicer new car. I even opened up the backseat, to which Amy took the invite and got in. After I joined her, I closed up and said, "As you can tell, the seat's a little more comfy."
"I wouldn't know. I had a different kind of seat last time," Amy remembered. Fortunately, it seemed we could laugh about it.
"Still, even if some things stay the same, some do change. Right?" I asked. While we were at the same place, at the same time period as three years ago, this was a different car with different destined results. I knew it had to be.
And yet Amy leaned closer to me. And yet I closed the rest of the gap myself.
She couldn't have been nervous about the Oscars this time. She had to have regretted cheating on her long time boyfriend back then. I couldn't have made that much of a convincing case for her to do it again. And didn't she just say she had to go somewhere?
But when her tongue curled against mine and my hands went back on her, I just figured I should really move this along.
While some things were the same, some were indeed different. This time, instead of her riding my lap, I would lay her on her back and do the job. Given that we were in an open parking lot, there wasn't much choice, really.
I also had to keep kissing her so we didn't get too loud, although this wasn't the worst idea. In addition, I had the bright idea to get those sunglasses off, putting me right up close with the eyes that haunted my brain and my TV/movie screens for three years. This meant I could see them turn hot and hungry as my hand went on and under her skirt.
Amy once again unbuckled and unzipped me like a pro, even in this new position. After getting her panties down just enough, I inserted myself in her once again. Unfortunately, another big difference is that none of us could get undressed this time.
I could only fondle Amy's breasts over her purple shirt, and I couldn't kiss or nibble her neck too hard. I could lay my head down against her stunning red hair, but if she had to be somewhere, I couldn't mess it up too. However, Amy was more liberal about grabbing my ass and pushing it forward -- hell, I didn't have anywhere to be.
"Fuck me, that's it...come on, come on," Amy tried to plead quietly. Just hearing her voice get that worked up, in any volume, was enough for me. To help her along, I had to fit my left hand between our bodies and under her bunched up skirt, while my right hand held onto the backseat cushion.
We went like this for a few minutes, before we hit another dilemma. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum...where am I gonna cum?" I asked, knowing cumming on her naked body wasn't an option. Or cumming anywhere near her body.
"Fuck...hold on, first things first," Amy cursed, then put her own hand between our bodies. She tried to get herself off first, as if I hadn't been trying already. Yet the added hand, along with her hips bucking harder against me, seemed to help.
"Fuck, a little more...hold on a little more," she was likely telling me, not her. If she was, then she disobeyed her own advice when she tightened on me and let herself go.
