She's a Star (a Hollywood Hotwife story)

by Sebastian, Max

  “Like it?” she moaned, looking down at me.

  “Filming those scenes—did you enjoy it? I mean it was Aaron Simpson, and there you were making him all hard for you.”

  She moaned again, but said: “It wasn’t like that. It was work.”

  “But you must have been a little turned on yourself.”

  My tone attempted to reassure her, avoiding any hint of the judgmental, any ounce of negativity that might be construed as disapproval.

  “I told you when it happened. It wasn’t sexy.”

  She let out a cry, and for a few moments just rode me, slowly, forcefully, as though she really hadn’t ever felt me as hard as this, and now wanted to make the most of it.

  I thought it was time to let things lie, to just enjoy this intimacy with her. But I couldn’t stop myself. I said,

  “Were you trying to make me jealous? Inviting me to this premiere—making those scenes in the first place?”

  She looked uncertain for a moment, as though she was a schoolgirl caught smoking under the bleachers.

  “Those scenes were in the script,” she said, referring only to part of my accusation.

  “But you did kind of want to shock me, by inviting me tonight?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  She nodded, lifted off me, readjusting. She turned, straddling me again, but now facing away, facing the direction of travel. Presenting me a great image of her spectacular rear before she dropped down, that sweet pussy swallowing my hardness.

  I groaned as she just sat there, as though merely the vibrations coming up from the road through my cock was enough to set her off.

  “God, you’re so hard….” she breathed.

  “And you’re so wet,” I chuckled. “You thinking about him?”

  “Hey!” she turned to me, flashed me an amused warning glance.

  Then she was fucking me, her legs stretched wide over my parted thighs, her hands reaching up to support herself on the low roof of the vehicle. I reached around to fondle her breasts, but found my hands naturally dropping to her mound. Fingers drawn to her little button, nudging it, massaging her hot flesh around it, stirring the whimpers and cries from her as her thigh muscles pumped to move her on my shaft.

  “So you really wanted to make me all green with jealousy, huh?” I said. “I bet that made you feel a little naughty.”

  “Maybe.”

  “How did you hope I’d react to it? That I’d be jealous, but then what?”

  Her long red hair whipped me as she rode me. I felt so powerful. Aaron Simpson wanted this. Most of the guys at that premiere had wanted this—but I was getting to make love to this exquisite creature.

  “I guess I was hoping you’d get jealous…and then you’d want to take me home and fuck me,” she said, her use of the f-word somehow incongruent with the old Hayley I knew, that she seemed to revel in it.

  “So you got your wish,” I said.

  Her right hand moved to mine, gently positioning it where she wanted it just then. I was happy to be shown, happy to take her guidance.

  “Oh yeah…oh just like that….”

  Her fucking became little more than a slight bounce on my lap, though it was all right for me, I felt the need to cool it a little or else I was going to lose it way before we got home.

  “So you were turned on when you were shooting those scenes with him, weren’t you?”

  I slipped the question in gently while she was wailing at the little circles I was running over her clit, hoping to ease her inhibitions.

  “I was thinking about you….” she said, a nice try.

  I laughed. “You were pretending to fuck Aaron Simpson, and you were honestly thinking about your boring husband back home?”

  “I was!” She laughed, seeing how far-fetched it might seem that she was picturing her husband while acting out the fantasy of a million women with Aaron Simpson. “I don’t know…I guess even then, I was thinking about your fantasy, and what it might be like for you to see me with Aaron. How much you’d want me after that.”

  “Want you? You thought I didn’t want you already?”

  I pulled her down hard on my huge swollen cock as though to make the point.

  Hayley cursed, and for a while was lost in the sensations coursing through her trim frame. Then she said, “When I started shooting that movie...I still felt like a waitress….”

  “A waitress shooting a multi-million-dollar picture with a Hollywood legend.”

  “But at the time…”

  “And who just paid off our mortgage?”

  “I felt like I’d wake up one morning and the director would tell me he made a mistake, it wasn’t me they wanted to cast....”

  “So what, you thought I wasn’t interested in you because of that? I’ve never seen you as just a waitress.”

  Hayley turned to face me again, slipping my hard cock back inside her.

  “Back in New York, when we went to that New Year’s party, and there were all those people from your office there….” She was referring to something that happened so long ago, it seemed like a different life.

  “That made you jealous?” I was a little taken aback at my wife, that a party with my co-workers might make her feel bad about herself.

  “I just felt…inferior,” she said. “All those women you worked with…well, some of them…definitely had their eyes on you….”

  “I only have eyes for you, honey. I only ever did, you know?”

  “I know. But I used that jealousy...to drive my performance in the movie.”

  “To motivate you, huh. So tell me….”

  “Tell you what?”

  “You were motivated, weren’t you? You were seriously turned on when you were making those scenes with him, right?”

  We were both getting so close. She looked at me, and could see I wasn’t trying to trick her, I was as turned on as she was.

  “A little,” she said, then giggled as she felt my throbbing cock respond to her admission.

  “A little. Your nipples were like bullets in those scenes.”

  “I was thinking about you, sweetie.”

  “Honey, I told you, I’m not upset that you were. You were beautiful in that movie. I love those scenes. I love how hot you were in them, I love that you were turned on when you made them.”

  “You do?”

  “I can’t entirely explain it…it was just hot.”

  “Seeing me with him?”

  “Watching you like that—from a different perspective.”

  “So what would you think of me doing it again? During the sequel. “

  That was enough to set me off, pumping deep inside her. It triggered her own, shuddering climax.

  “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then,” she said, breathless, as she collapsed on me.

  Pulling our clothes back on straight, we saw that we were already at the hotel. How long had the limousine been parked there, the driver waiting for his passengers to exit the vehicle? Who knew. When we did finally vacate the long, black car, both of us were laughing and giggling like naughty teenagers, and feeling alive.

  Chapter Ten

  I woke up to the sound of TV news—though largely of the gossip variety. Hayley was awake and perched on the edge of the bed, flicking through channels. I didn’t need to listen too long to tell that she was scouring the cable for coverage of last night’s premiere.

  “…the crowd couldn’t get enough of the stars of Aaron Simpson’s new prison drama, The Prisoner's Wife, last night in Hollywood….”

  I zoned out for a while as she contented herself with what, by the general sounds of things, appeared to be very positive views on the movie.

  “…some are even tipping some of the stars for Oscar nominations—a first for any Aaron Simpson movie. But how will the Academy feel about some of the more explicit scenes…?”

  I guess I drifted in and out of sleep for a while, still tired from the previous night, and happy to know that we didn’t have anything to get
to today.

  Then after a while, something filtered into my ears and suddenly spiked my last remnants of sleep:

  “…Aaron Simpson and the beautiful Hayley Martin arrived separately at the theater, but some reports have claimed that this was purposefully engineered to head off suggestions that the world-famous Hollywood hunk has fallen for his talented co-star….”

  Okay…

  Hayley changed channels again.

  “…are Aaron Simpson and Hayley Martin getting it on in real life? Their new movie is about a woman having an affair with a prison guard, but some insiders are now saying the movie’s two leads are having an affair off-screen as well as on….”

  I opened my eyes after that one. Hayley changed the channels again, and after a number of channels of nothing, came another report on the premiere:

  “…and don’t forget that Hayley Martin is married herself, so is it a case of life imitating art? Jordan Montgomery is live for us now on Hollywood Boulevard….”

  Jesus.

  I sat up. My heart was beating quickly. Even with my limited dealings with the celebrity world, I knew well enough that the gutter press liked to make up stories. But after what I’d heard in various restrooms last night about the secret attraction between Aaron Simpson and my wife, it had me on edge.

  “It’s not true,” Hayley said, turning to see that I was awake.

  “That you’re tipped for an Oscar nomination, or that you’re having an affair with your leading man?” I asked, smiling, trying to reassure her.

  She smiled back. “You know what I mean,” she said.

  I shrugged. “Sounds pretty good, what everyone’s saying about the movie.”

  “It’s pretty amazing. But I don’t know where all that other stuff is coming from,” she sighed.

  “There’s always a load of BS surrounding movies when they come out, right?”

  “I suppose so.”

  Then I said, with perhaps a little more acumen than I probably meant, “Perhaps a load of media outlets thinking you and Aaron are having an affair would be a good thing—I mean, you know, lots of free publicity, right?”

  Hayley nodded. “I guess so. But everyone’s going to think I’m cheating on you!”

  I shrugged again. Moving up to sit with her on the edge of the bed, I put my arm around her. “Anyone we really care about, we can tell them the media’s making it up. And if they’re important to us, they’ll believe us.”

  “I suppose the media does make up quite a few stories….”

  A loud knock on the suite front door interrupted her.

  “Oh, that’ll be Liona and Jake,” she said, jumping up from the bed. She was wearing nothing but a long t-shirt and panties, but that didn’t seem to stop her scampering off, out of the bedroom and through to greet her agent and publicist.

  I wasn’t going to complain that she hadn’t told me we were expecting visitors that morning. I rolled out of bed and tracked down a shirt and pants, not wishing to be seen in just my boxers, however close we had become to Hayley’s little posse.

  As I dressed, I could hear them greeting her, babbling excitedly about the media response to the premiere.

  When I padded through into the suite reception room to join the throng, I could hear Jake bringing them all back down to earth. “Well, we’ll have to wait until the movie actually opens, but the momentum is there.”

  “Here he is!”

  I liked Liona and Jake. They were good people. They weren’t just the usual air-kissing fakes who seemed to fill the movie industry. They seemed like they genuinely cared. And here they were praising my part in the premiere. That kind of made me laugh, though.

  “I didn’t do a single thing,” I pointed out. “I just stood there and said very little.”

  “And that is the perfect strategy for the movie-star spouse,” said Jake, a small balding guy who always seemed to remind me of somebody from Sex and the City. “Stand out of the way so the star can claim the limelight—it’s no easy thing to achieve, you know.”

  But now, ordering a decent brunch from room service was the performance I was tasked to achieve, allowing Hayley time to chat with her little team about the early reviews that were beginning to be put out—and already seemed glowing.

  My guess was that we wouldn’t have had such a pleasant little gathering if the reviews had all come in stating that the movie stunk. But hey, Hayley and I were going to enjoy it while it lasted.

  “You guys closer to finding a new place?”

  “Oh, the new realtor has found a few places—nothing’s really grabbed us yet, though,” Hayley said.

  “The market’s just getting ridiculous right now, you might even do better taking your time….”

  It wasn’t until the tail-end of the meal that the issue of the day seemed to surface. I wondered if that was a ploy of all those in attendance—not wishing to spoil the brunch by bringing up the awkward question.

  Hayley, eventually, brought it up.

  She said, “So you see what everyone’s been saying about me and Aaron this morning?”

  The way Liona and Jake looked at each other, and hesitated before responding to their client, made it seem as though this was the one thing they’d needed to speak with her about during this particular meeting, and that everything preceding it had been simple small-talk.

  Liona said, “They’re just trawling for something tangible to say about the movie.”

  And Jake piped up, “It’s the human angle, right? Something the viewers can really engage with. It’s no bad thing at this stage.”

  Liona smiled at me, knowing that in all of this, I was potentially the damaged party. She said, “It’s just the whole soap opera surrounding Hollywood, right? And Hayley’s close to being a major cast member.”

  I shrugged. “Reporters always did make up a story if the truth wasn’t exciting enough, huh?”

  “Right,” Jake nodded, and glanced at Liona again as though checking that their strategy for this meeting was on track. Then he said, “We did talk to some of the people from the studio this morning, and some of Aaron’s people, too….”

  Liona jumped in, saying almost apologetically. “They’re kinda of the opinion that all the talk about an affair…well, it might actually help build interest in the movie.”

  I looked over at Hayley, and she raised her eyebrows at me in a kind of “well, what d’you know?” expression.

  “Okay….” Hayley said, “So what does it mean for us?”

  Jake said, “They wanted us to sound you guys out…about maybe going along with it. You know—making people out there think it’s possible there really is some kind of affair going on.”

  Hayley laughed, and I couldn’t help but smile myself. “You’re saying we fake an affair to help promote the movie?” she said.

  “I don’t know…” Jake searched for words. “It’s the kind of thing where…you know…maybe you don’t necessarily fake an affair, but maybe you don’t do certain things that might definitively rule one out as possible.”

  “Meaning?”

  Jake gave an awkward laugh. “You know…maybe you avoid being pictured in a loving embrace with your husband for a little while.”

  Hayley put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. “Seriously?”

  “I don’t see a problem,” I said. “It’s not like I’m particularly keen to be photographed anyway.”

  The pretty blonde agent flashed me a supportive—and perhaps grateful—smile, then said, “Aaron’s team were wondering if he might meet you for lunch tomorrow, Hayley. You know, to talk about it all.”

  Hayley looked at me, and I felt the faintest flicker of jealousy at the thought of her meeting her co-star with all this talk of an affair floating around the airwaves. “Alone?” she asked.

  Liona said, “If that would be okay.”

  “I’m guessing a few paparazzi would be quietly invited to witness it?” she said with a slight edge to her voice.

  “That would be my guess, to
o,” the agent nodded.

  Hayley looked at me. “It would probably be okay,” I said. “Just let them have their fun. We want a successful movie, right?”

  “Right, but—”

  I smiled. “It’s not going to affect us, is it? I know you love me, and not him, and you know it, too. So meet him for lunch.”

  I felt a stirring in between my thighs—this argument was one of the arguments when considering the possibility of my fantasy, and it seemed to parallel this idea of a fake affair closely.

  “We’d be meeting with a few photographers able to monitor what’s going on, right?” Hayley said. “So no doubt I’ll have to at least look as though I’m flirting with him, or it won’t fit with the narrative, huh?”

  Jake nodded, but said, “It doesn’t have to be much. Just laugh at his jokes, smile at his compliments. The press will select the pictures that fit the story they want to tell—so if there’s a brief moment where you’re gazing longingly into his eyes, they’ll find it.”

  “Right.”

  “Just don’t look miserable through the whole meal,” Liona said. “That’s the only thing that would wreck it.”

  My wife looked at me again.

  “Why not?” I said.

  Chapter Eleven

  I was at work the day that the pseudo-affair started. It felt almost like a normal day, other than that little flutter in my heart every time I paused for breath, from knowing that my beautiful wife was meeting with Aaron Simpson, with the express purpose of making the world believe they were dating.

  That afternoon, I found myself checking the web for any possible media mentions of the lunch meeting—I had no clue how fast it would take for the paparazzi to record the noonish rendezvous and get their pictures to some form of news organization.

  Then, just before I headed home, I found a single article on the website of Us Weekly: “Has Aaron Simpson Found Love With His New Co-Star?”

  There was nothing but a few paragraphs in the article itself, stating that “Hollywood Heartthrob” Aaron Simpson had been caught in an intimate embrace with “Gorgeous Redhead” Hayley Martin while enjoying a “secret” lunch meeting out in West Hollywood. But one thing I did read—that seemed to set fire to my insides as I read it—was that she’d removed her wedding ring during her lunch date.