Author's Note: Thanks for your patience, everyone! I really want to get the buildup in this book done just right. And this chapter you'll hopefully find is a very rewarding buildup to the true debauchery that will come forth in Chapter 4. For now, enjoy this.
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Juliet had been serious about putting together a Hollywood party. And, in doing so, we learned just how far outside the inner showbiz circles we remained. I realized, too, that Juliet was letting into something very few people saw, and it was astonishing. Her agency had a party planner that she had access to, and it was the most professional operation I'd ever seen. This made the Infinity football parties look like slap-dash frat house affairs. Every detail of this event was curated.
It started with the guest list. The planner, a studious and bubbly girl named Hillary, was in her late 20s and had cut her teeth as a pharmaceutical sales rep. She oversaw a pre-screened list of 200 approved potential guests who already had signed NDAs on file. People off this list also would be selected to be servers and bartenders for the evening. The agency also owned a handful of gorgeous and, more importantly, highly secure, properties where parties took place. Learning this made me smile. I was glad to know Juliet's talent managers used real estate as a way of washing cash, too.
The guest list came together in an interesting fashion. First, Hillary solidified what "real" stars could attend. But, she explained, you never wanted to have more than a half-dozen or so, otherwise the egos might be too difficult to judge. Then you filled in second line guests based on the predilections of the stars. In all, attendance would be limited to about fifty people, and it would be a roughly even divide between males and females. Each attendee would receive a security access card to the property, and five off-duty police officers -- extremely trusted individuals -- would ensure the peace and lack of prying eyes and cameras. That was the other thing -- no cell phones allowed. You had to leave them in your car or check them at the door. No exceptions. Not even for an A-lister like Juliet.
For newcomers, like the four of us, there was a two-page set of rules that we had to read and an acknowledgement to sign, along with the NDA. The Wednesday before the party, which would commence at ten o'clock Friday night and continue until all the goers were too exhausted to keep going or simply had passed out, I met Juliet for our usual lunch tryst. We had smoked some fantastically sensual indica weed and made love for two hours before leisurely showering together. I marveled at the party planning.
"Hillary is the best in the business," Juliet said, running her hands through her hair as the hot water cascaded over it. My soapy hands lingered much longer than necessary on her ripe, firm breasts, playfully tweaking her pastel pink nipples.
"It's just so much more of an operation than I ever dreamed," I said. "There's so much paperwork!"
"The front end has quite a bit of burden," Juliet said, "but you'll find it's really liberating to go into the party and realize there are no concerns. No anxiety. No consequences."
"Well, there always could be consequences," I teased.
"You know what I mean," she said, rolling her eyes after she had wiped away the water from them.
"I'm really excited," I said.
"You should be," Juliet jabbed back. Her ability to verbally joust with me was as good as anyone I'd ever met. "People would kill to get on this guest list."
"Is anyone I know going to be there?" I asked.
Juliet rattled off the other "real" star names.
"Are you serious?" I said.
She nodded and smiled at me. "I told you," she said, "people would kill to get in."
"This is going to be nuts," I said.
"You really have no idea, darling," she said and kissed me. "But you'll be fine. You're there with me."
"I notice Stephen's name isn't on the list," I said.
"He's still in Italy," she said casually. "With one of his other girlfriends."
We laughed. It had become a bit of a running joke. The tabloids loved to link Stephen and Juliet, and they certainly had chemistry and cared about one another. But Stephen had at least three other women similarly situated to Juliet in his eyes. They took the concept of "it's complicated" to another level, and they weren't even atypical from Hollywood couples. Or non-couples. I wasn't sure I'd ever quite understand it.
"You just have to go with it," Juliet said, as if reading my thoughts. "And there's no room for jealousy. Of course, that's never been a problem for you, has it, John?"
Juliet had turned on full seductress mode. She ran her hands over her breasts and then down to her pubic mound, letting the water pellet her from behind. Her hands rose again, this time slowing at her breasts so she could pinch and squeeze her nipples. She reached for me, and I pulled her into my arms, the water and steam now enveloping both of us.
Her kisses were playful, almost teasing. She wanted to keep talking, but I could tell she also might want to fuck again.
"I'm really looking forward to it," I said. "It's like we're being invited into some secret society."
"There's an element to that," she said. "It's usually a pretty diverse crowd of creatives. So just understand that pretty much anything goes, and people will look at you funny if you express any surprise."
"I know, I know," I said, waving a hand. "It's not like I haven't seen it all."
Juliet rolled her eyes. She turned around and, with uncanny body control, guided my semi-erect cock between her ass cheeks. She put one leg up on the slick marble bench at the back of the shower and bent over.
"Why don't you put another load in me before the hot water runs out," she said.
"It's an instant in-line water heater," I observed.
"Oh, well," she said airily, "then take your time. But give me that fucking load, John."
I cracked a hand over Juliet's firm ass, the water making it sting more than usual, and she gave a cute yelp. My cock hardened and slipped effortlessly between her freshly waxed lips. Juliet has eschewed the laser hair removal so many girls opted for these days. She wanted the option of growing a landing strip, she said. I assumed I knew better. My guess was that Stephen had told her to hold that option open. It was a power play with his fingerprints all over it.
"Wednesday lunch may be my favorite part of the week," I said as my cock bottomed out in her for our third round that afternoon.
"It's more like dessert," she said, then steered the conversation back to the party. "I've seen things at these parties that make even me blush."
"You are just dying to tell me something," I said, slowly stroking in and out of her. "Go ahead. I don't blush."
"Let me put it this way," Juliet said but paused to add, "yeah, fuck, just like that. You'll make me cum that way."
I spanked her again to get her back to the task at hand, but it only spurred on her pleasure. I had to wait until she came until I got more information out of her.
"God, I love how you make me cum," she panted. "If you put another load in me, this will be a perfect day."
"Stop teasing about this party and talk dirty to me, and I will," I said.
I needed to cum fast, or we'd both turn to prunes in the water.
