"Why don't you turn the tape recorder off?"
Phillip Davies looks across the table at me with his smouldering blue eyes that have earned him millions and a good chance at an Oscar.
My stomach that has been in knots all week since I got the assignment clenches and releases and I try hard not to throw up into my macchiato.
I glance at my notepad as I play for time. He's given me more than enough material to write a decent article. I reach over and push the power button on the Dictaphone. I put it in my bag.
"Let's go upstairs." He says in a gruff voice that I've heard him use on screen before. In the light and air of the hotel coffee shop it sounds less sexual and more like he's got to clear his throat.
I weigh the moment up in my mind. I have no reason not to, I don't have a boyfriend, I haven't had sex in ages and any woman who says no to someone so unbelievably beautiful would have to be out of her mind. On the other hand, he admitted less than half an hour ago to being a serious, long-term relationship with a beautiful, ridiculously talented actress, he's cocky and rude and he's insulted me subtly and arrogantly since the interview began.
I smile at him across the table.
We get up and walk away, the bill uncalled for and unnecessary. In the elevator he pushes me against the wall and runs his hands over my breasts, down my sides, up and down my legs. He grips my ass through my jeans and massages the seam of my jeans into my slit. I close my eyes and feel my body respond. His hands are small and almost femininely soft. The doors open and other people get in but he doesn't stop and I don't open my eyes.
When we get to his floor, he steps away from me like a stranger --he is a stranger- and walks away as though he doesn't care whether or not I follow him to his room. A swipe of the card and I am pressed up against the closed door. My bag clatters forgotten and my possessions spill out.
He pulls my top off over my head and snaps my bra off expertly. He kneels to peel my jeans down my legs and I struggle for balance as I get my boots off clumsily. I stand before him in my thong.
He grips my jaw in his hands as he kisses me. He tastes like caffeine and last night's sin.
"Get down." Unceremoniously. What did I expect? Moonlight and flowers?
He unbuttons his designer jeans himself and lets his limp cock dangle loose. No underwear. Did he know he was going to get laid? I somehow expected him to be erect. I take the small, soft organ in my hand and squeeze it. I suck the tip into my mouth like a sweetie. I can take almost all of it into my mouth because it is so soft, but it quickly grows and becomes rubbery in my hands, until I can only fit the huge head in my mouth. I pump my hand up and down the shaft and I suck and lick at his cock. I feel his hand on my head, guiding my speed. He seems to want me to deep throat him but I resist. I'll choke.
I suck him until my mouth starts to get sore and my jaw is aching. I was expecting more than a blowjob, he had me get naked for this? Why isn't he coming? Am I doing something wrong?
I open my eyes and glance up at him. He's looking out of the window. I don't know what to do so I keep sucking. I think my jaw is going to get unhinged. I taste small droplets of precum which I swallow.
Eventually he seems to remember what's going on. "Let's go to the bedroom."
I follow him in my G-string, my small, pink nipples erect with cold and nerves. He gestures to the bed. "Kneel."
I shudder at the way he speaks to me, but I get onto the bed on my hands and knees. I glance back over my shoulder. His dick is poking out of his fly, bouncing around at right angles to him. He looks around and gets a condom from a box on the dresser. He puts it on carelessly and climbs on the bed behind me.
He shoves two fingers into me and pushes my G-string aside. I gasp and contract around him. I'm dry and not that horny.
He puts his dick at the entrance to my pussy and starts to push, holding the thin piece of string to the side. It's uncomfortable and dry. He pushes anyway until he's halfway in and then starts to pump in and out. Instead of getting any easier, it gets harder as the little bit of lube get rubbed in and I get tighter and tighter from the pain.
