JENNY GOES HOLLYWOOD
By
MADISON LANGSTON
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PUBLISHED BY:
Madison Langston on Smashwords
Jenny Goes Hollywood
Copyright © 2012 by Madison Langston
All rights reserved
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters and situations are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
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An explicit excerpt from Jenny Goes Hollywood:
Pushing my knees apart, she kissed her way from my right knee up to my crotch, tongue licking, teeth nipping. The scent of my arousal had reached me, so I knew Lecia breathed my essence as well. The blue of her eyes were half hidden by eyelids as she looked over my smooth mound, searching for my response to her bold moves. My lust-filled eyes must have encouraged her, because she leaned in and gave my pussy a few tentative licks. Nudging my nether lips apart with her nose, she inhaled deeply, moaned and began lapping me in earnest
Paul had removed trousers and underwear. His only garment a white shirt open down the front, he reclined in the armchair, holding my damp panties under his nose, inhaling their scent. With his other hand he stroked his rigid erection with slow gentle caresses and watched his wife going down on me.
The firm muscles of his tight abs and arms rippled as his arm moved. As I watched Paul’s palm pick up his leaking precum and smear it over the head and shaft, my nipples tightened. His penis must have measured nine inches; it was thick too; even in Paul’s large paw, it was a handful. I yearned, to take its glistening head into my mouth and taste it, feel its satin smoothness on my tongue and breathe his masculine scent.
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JENNY GOES HOLLYWOOD
By Madison Langston
Living in Hollywood in the 21st Century is chaotic and sometimes a little dangerous, especially for a young woman just out of college. But my college advisors recommended Hollywood as the best place to break into script writing, so here I am, waiting to be discovered as the next great mover and shaker in the world of film-making. (Uh huh! Sure! What I’ve discovered about that possibility is: Don’t hold you breath!) Fortunately I’m not destitute; I come from one of those moneyed families back east, so immediate success is not a requirement.
I have to admit, though, that my college advisors weren’t the only reason for my choosing to live in Hollywood. Since I can remember, I’ve always felt trapped by the culture in which I was born and raised, sexual mores being the hardest part to deal with. While at Yale I found the lack of family restrictions exciting and ventured into areas strongly disapproved of by my parents. I tasted most of what college life had to offer and along the way discovered the highs and lows of drugs were definitely not for me. When it came to sex, though, it was another story; I learned that I love sex. Except for those few life altering experiences in college, I’d be stuck in the same cultural quagmire that dictated my mother’s life.
Though my experiences were limited, I did discover that I’m bisexual with a little more of a leaning toward the homosexual end of the continuum. This knowledge would have doomed me to a living hell, had I chosen to live around my conservative religious family. With that idea in mind, I resolved to move my life into a different circle. Hollywood, being a Mecca for alternative lifestyles, seemed an ideal place for me. Now don’t misunderstand, I’m not promiscuous. Aside from my few sexual escapades in college, I’ve led a relatively sheltered and controlled life. Actually most of my wild sexcapades have been in the realm of fantasy. I moved to Hollywood looking forward to some of those fantasies becoming real.
I wanted to get the feel of the “Old Hollywood” as it was in the mid-20th Century, and luckily I found the perfect place in the hills above Hollywood Boulevard. The house was built before World War II, and I fell in love with it and the many isolated nooks, both inside and out, where I can take my laptop and meditate myself into the proper writing mood.
For three weeks I’d followed a strict writing schedule. I was happy with my progress and decided it was time to get out and see if I could come up with a little excitement. I’d heard of a club over in the valley that sounded interesting and decided to give it a try. It was Friday, an ideal time to sample Hollywood Nightlife.
I selected a trendy one-piece black dress, reaching just to mid-thigh. Half a dozen horizontal slits revealed skin across the left thigh and hip with similar slits on the long sleeves. I added black heels and checked the mirror. The combination of my outfit and my long blond hair, gave me confidence that I would stand out in most crowds, and deemed myself ready to venture into the L.A Club Scene.
When I got to the club, I connected almost immediately with a couple–a man and his wife. Paul was probably mid-thirties and Lecia I judged to be early thirties. I was alone at the bar when Paul approached and invited me to join them.
From the moment my eyes met Lecia, I was smitten. Her black wavy hair hung well below the shoulder blades. Her smooth olive skin contrasted with the white chiffon Roman style dress. Because of her coloring, I expected dark brooding eyes, so I was startled when I found myself staring into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. Her look of unabashed interest as she met my gaze, made my pulse quicken. As we sat, Paul said, “I’m Paul Anderson and this is my wife Lecia.”
“Jenny Crayton,” I said and offered my hand. Lecia’s soft grip and the touch of her long fingers in the palm of my hand shifted my fantasies into overdrive and I wondered what those fingers might feel like caressing my naked body.
“Hi Jenny,” Lecia said. “I hope you don’t think us too forward, but we saw you sitting there and thought you might like some company.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you asked me over. Actually, that’s why I came here. I don’t know many people in L.A. and tonight I decided to get out and see some of the city.” Paul and Lecia exchanged a look, and I think a signal passed between them, and then I added, “Interesting Club! Do you come here often?”
Lecia said, “No. As a matter of fact, this is our first time.”
Paul signaled the waiter and, as we had a drink, the Anderson’s got right down to it and smoothly worked their proposal into the conversation. They had come to the club looking for a threeway. I was startled. I hadn’t expected such openness. A threeway wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for getting to know new people in a new city. My plan had been to get to know a few people and then let closer relations develop naturally. The more I looked at Lecia, though, the more difficult it became to say no. After all, one of the reasons I’d moved here was to experience a more open lifestyle, and a threeway was certainly a move in that direction.
In less that half an hour we were on our way to their place in Westwood. Paul suggested that Lecia ride with me to show me the way. Lecia sat sideways, silently watching me as I navigated the early evening traffic on the San Diego freeway, heading south.
“Jenny, I hope you don’t think we do this kind of thing all the time. Actually this is our first time. We tried it two other times, but couldn’t find someone we were comfortable with.”
“It’s not a problem. I wouldn’t have come if not interested. I’ve never been in a threeway before. I just hope I don’t get cold feet at the last moment.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be all right with it either; I’ve never been with a woman before. I’ve always wondered what girl/girl sex would be like but never had the opportunity. Paul and I have talked about it for months. He’s so excited to see me with another woman; I hope I don’t disappoint him. As we said earlier, though, let’s just take it slow and see how things develop. Okay?�
�
“Sounds good to me.” I changed the subject by asking about their lives and found out that Paul is a copyright attorney and Lecia a drama teacher at an area high school. She had come to Los Angeles several years earlier and tried breaking into film acting, but, when she met Paul, she gave that up, went back to college and became a teacher.
*****
The Anderson’s home, a one level Spanish style house in an upper middle income neighborhood, was near the UCLA Campus. Paul had arrived a few minutes earlier and set things up–soft lighting with music in the background. On a coffee table centered between a small sofa and a matching armchair, a bottle of white wine was chilling an ice bucket. The furniture arrangement struck me as unusual, and I suspected Paul had arranged it just for this get-together.
Lecia took my hand and guided me to a position on the sofa then sat beside me. Paul poured the wine and sat in the armchair. Obviously, they had planned for Lecia to be the seductress, which suited me fine.
“You said you’re new to L.A. Where from?” Paul asked.
“Connecticut. I just graduated from Yale in June.”
“Major?”
“Filmmaking, with a specialization in writing? I just finished the first draft of a script. In another month or two, it should be ready for me to go out and pitch it.” Paul was doing the talking, but I was acutely aware that Lecia’s eyes followed my every move; so conscious in fact that her gaze felt like a caress. Paul continued to ask questions. He was very good at pulling information from me, and I talked freely of my interest in Hollywood history. Regardless of what I talked about, though, I couldn’t separate my mind from Lecia. She was inching closer each time she picked up or set down her glass. When our eyes met, I could see a hunger in them. She’d been unsure about making love to a woman, but the look on her face told me she was definitely ready.
Soon Lecia’s hand rested on my thigh and when I didn’t flinch or draw away, her soft fingers found one of the wider slits in my dress and caressed the pantyhose covered skin beneath. As the soft fingers inched toward my center, I felt my pussy swell and grow wet. The anticipation of being seduced by this beautiful woman, while holding a conversation with her handsome husband had my insides melting. My concentration on Paul’s questions faltered. I didn’t want to answer any more questions, I only wanted to lie back and let Lecia take me, ravish me.
Then I realized Paul had stopped talking. His eyes watched Lecia’s hand insinuate itself into the large slit in my dress and move to my crotch. When her fingers found the wet spot, I heard a moan push up from my throat. Leaning back into the sofa soft cushions, I closed my eyes, and soon sensed the closeness of Lecia’s face. I felt her breath on my face and the firm touch of fingers trying to invade my pussy through the silken barrier.
When Lecia’s lips touched mine, the kiss was almost chaste, just gentle pressure, and then her tongue traced a line directly to my ear where she nuzzled and nipped for a moment before returning to attack my mouth properly. This time I felt the passion of her kiss; her tongue forced my lips apart, invading, searching.
When Lecia removed her hand from my crotch, my eyes opened. She pulled back, and I saw hunger in her expression. She brought her fingers, glistening with wet, to her face, inhaling my scent, licking at the moisture. Her amazing blue eyes searched mine for any sign of hesitation. Apparently finding only lust in my gaze, she kissed me again and I opened, welcoming the invasion of her tongue. Her hand found my left breast and, through the fabric of my dress, traced a fingernail over and around the erect flesh causing the center of my sex to clench, drenching my already soaked panties, again. For a woman who had never had sex with a woman, Lecia was amazingly intuitive.
When she kicked off her heels and slid down my body, Paul stood and pulled the table aside so his wife could sit on the floor between my knees. First, Lecia removed my shoes, then took my legs and pulled my hips down to the edge of the sofa. The move bunched my skirt around my waist and exposed the wet crotch of my panty hose. Next she grabbed the top of both undergarments, pulled them off and tossed them aside.
Pushing my knees apart, she kissed her way from my right knee up to my crotch, tongue licking, teeth nipping. The scent of my arousal had reached me, so I knew Lecia breathed my essence as well. The blue of her eyes were half hidden by eyelids as she looked over my smooth mound, searching for my response to her bold moves. My lust-filled eyes must have encouraged her, because she leaned in and gave my pussy a few tentative licks. Nudging my nether lips apart with her nose, she inhaled deeply, moaned and began lapping me in earnest
Paul had removed trousers and underwear. His only garment a white shirt open down the front, he reclined in the armchair, holding my damp panties under his nose, inhaling their scent. With his other hand he stroked his rigid erection with slow gentle caresses and watched his wife going down on me.
The firm muscles of his tight abs and arms rippled as his arm moved. As I watched Paul’s palm pick up his leaking precum and smear it over the head and shaft, my nipples tightened. His penis must have measured nine inches; it was thick too; even in Paul’s large paw, it was a handful. I yearned, to take its glistening head into my mouth and taste it, feel its satin smoothness on my tongue and breathe his masculine scent.
Becoming aware of my watching him masturbate, Paul locked eyes with me. His wanton expression and the knowledge that he was aroused by what his wife was doing to me raised my lust to a level that banished rational thought. I could only focus on Paul’s unhurried self-abuse, Lecia’s oral titillation between my thighs, the mingled sexual smells of three aroused people and the steady climb of my senses toward orgasm.
Lecia invaded my vagina with two fingers, probing, searching for that magic spot. When she covered my mound with her mouth, her tongue working my clit, my lust hit the breaking point and I went over, my body convulsing. Lecia held on for the ride, keeping her oral ministrations strong, maintaining my peak for what seemed like minutes.
As my senses returned, I found Lecia beside me on the couch, gently kissing and stroking my face. I looked across at Paul; his erection was just as rigid, but he no longer stroked. Probably because he didn’t want to lose is seed by his own hand.
Paul said, “That was the hottest thing I’ve every seen, Jenny. I knew watching Lecia with another woman would be exciting, but I had no idea what a turn-on it would be.”
I kissed Lecia on the lips; she smelled like my fingers smell after masturbating, and the scent rekindled my lust. Stroking Lecia’s nipples through her dress, I turned toward her husband and said, “Your wife is amazing and I think she deserves some attention, now. Do you think we could find a way to give her a double treat?”
Paul’s hand was on his erection again, he gave it a stroke and smiled. “I think that could be arranged.”
Lecia, quickly jumping to her feet, a big smile across her face, took my hand and led me down the hall to their bedroom. Paul followed shedding his shirt on the way, erection waving with the swing of his gait.
The bedroom, too, had been prepared ahead of time. Lights were subdued, scented candles burned. There were no covers on the bed, only white satin sheets.
Paul reached for and undid the belt from Lecia’s waist; I stopped him, saying, “No, Paul, let me.” I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Lecia. I wanted to touch her, smell her, taste her. “Just unzip the back of my dress. Let me undress your wife. You sit down and enjoy. Okay?”
Paul unzipped my dress, saying, “Sounds like a plan, I can follow.” I wore no bra; the dress slipped from my shoulders and dropped to the floor. I stepped out of it, reaching immediately for Lecia. Until then, I hadn’t realized the difference in our heights. I’m five three; I judged Lecia to be five nine or ten. Suddenly she seemed almost Amazonian, and I thrilled with the knowledge that I was going to make love to a woman I needed to stand on tip-toes to kiss.
With the belt gone, the release of one clip on the shoulder strap allowed Lecia’s Roman style dress to fall in a puddle about h
er feet. The goddesses of ancient Rome could not have been more breathtaking than Lecia as she stood before me, nude except for white panties, the sexy droop of her breasts verifying she was no longer nineteen. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I raised myself to tip-toes and kissed her on the lips and was again reminded that her face was fresh from my pussy. Taking her left nipple between my lips I sucked the entire areola into my mouth, feeling the already large nipple grow stiff and rigid under my thrusting tongue. I taunted her this way until she released a throaty moan.
Kneeling in front of Lecia, I encircled her hips with my arms and brought my face into her panty covered mound. The heady scent of her arousal boosted my need for intimate contact. Kissing her panty covered mound, my lips detected moisture. I needed to taste her uncovered pussy, needed to feel that moisture on my chin and tongue. Taking the waist band of her final garment, I drew it down across her thighs and let it join the white dress at her feet. Lecia stepped out of her clothes and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for my next move.
Urging her to lie back with her feet on the floor, I moved between her knees. Her smooth labia now inches from my nose glistened with her leakage. I signaled Paul to join us.
Obviously I planned to lick his wife’s pussy, and he apparently wanted a front row seat. Climbing on the bed facing me, he placed one knee on each side of Lecia’s head and leaned forward, supporting his upper body on elbows. His erection, which Lecia was already stroking, hung less than an inch from her lips. As I watched, she brought just the velvet tip into her mouth and sucked.
The lust in Paul’s eyes inspired me nearly as much as the delectable woman flesh I was about to taste. The idea of going down on Paul’s wife, while his eyes stared directly into mine at a distance of four inches, was enough to drive me to orgasm. I knew he’d done what I was about to do many times before, but I also knew the vicarious experience of watching another woman taste his wife’s pussy, would be totally new. He licked his lips as I moved in close.
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