Authors: Giavanna Presley
I smoothed my dress as I climbed into the car. It was so low to the ground it was hard to get in gracefully, but somehow I managed.
“Buckle up.” He smiled.
I complied with his instructions. I didn’t think it was the right time to reopen the topic of
the interview just yet, so we rode in silence. Christoff seemed to be a man of little words. The strong and silent type. It took quite a while to drive through the city and get onto the Pacific Coast Highway. I used to live in Los Angeles briefly when my career reached one of its peaks. And I still travel there often to cover stories and visit friends, but no matter how many times I visit I can never get enough of the PCH.
Ahh, the Pacific Coast Highway.
The road ahead of us wound through the picturesque hills of Southern California. The ocean that spread the length of the highway sparkled beneath the amber glow of the sunset. I felt like I was in a sports car commercial as I watched Christoff shift gears and whiz past a cherry red Audi.
I’ve met a lot of pe
ople and seen a lot of places, but being on the PCH in a luxury sports car with the lead singer of Aus Deutschland, escorting me to his private jet, had to be the pinnacle of my adult life. As he shifted down a couple of gears to cut around a sharp corner, the back of his hand inadvertently brushed against my thigh. I started to move my legs away from the gear shift, but I liked the way his knuckles felt against my skin, even though I didn’t want to admit it. I subtly shifted my weight so that more of my skin touched his.
“How’s it feel?” he asked, interrupting my devious thoughts.
“What?” I jumped, startled.
“Cruising down the Pacific Coast Highway at 70 miles per hour in a Mercedes Benz?”
“It’s exhilarating,” I replied as I took it all in.
“You know, I’m
sorry I was a dick earlier. I’m just a little tense because I’ve been on the road for months. I get paid a lot to do what I love, so I know you don’t have a ton of sympathy for me. I get it. But I’ve been really exhausted and tense.” He ran his index finger up my thigh and across the curviest part of my hip before shifting gears again. I tried not to react but it gave me chills.
“No, I understand. I’m on the road a lot too. Albeit for a lot less money, but I know how it goes,” I said, secretly aching for hi
m to put his hand back on my thigh, but knowing full well it wasn’t a good idea.
“Yeah, you seem kind of tightly wound, but I guess I can’t blame you. Journalism can be pretty intense. Maybe that’s why the press is always making up nonsense.”
“Hey!” I cut him a sideways glance.
“Okay, okay I’ll leave you alone,” he chuckled.
“You better!” I flirted back with the stupidest grin on my face. I turned away and looked out the window so he wouldn’t see how giddy I’d become. My face twitched from smiling so hard.
“Sooo, have you ever fucked any of the celebrities you’ve interviewed?” He raised an eyebrow.
“That is not any of your business. And even if I did get banged by a celeb, it would be strictly off the record. I would never admit something like that, not to the tabloids, not to anyone, and certainly not to you,” I responded firmly.
He took his hands off the steering wheel to give me a slow, dramatic applause. “I’ve heard about you, but now I get to see it for myself. I have to give it to you. You are quite the
professional, or at least you try to be. You stick to getting your story no matter what.” He put his hands back on the wheel as he took his eyes off of the road and looked me up and down. The longing in his gaze made me more attracted to him than ever before.
I hesitantly uncrossed my legs as I made eye contact with him. I could hear my own heartbeat resonate inside my ears as I wondered what Christoff would do or say next. He didn’t leave me in anticipation for very long. With one hand on the steering whe
el and one hand in my lap he confidently wedged all four of his thick fingers in the narrow gap between my legs and he slowly slid his hand under my dress and up the length of my inner thighs until his thumb was toying with the outside of my under wear. I instinctively spread my legs. He rubbed his fingers against my clit over my underwear. My excitement was just starting to soak through the thin lining of my satin panties when he slid his hand out from under my dress up my abdomen, across my stomach and underneath my breasts. I released the breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding, as Christoff returned his hand to the gear shift. My legs fell open even wider as I melted into the seat. I wanted more but on this rare occasion I didn’t know if I should ask for it.
“Someone seems a little turned on,” he chuckled playfully, with a hint of arrogance.
I bit my lower lip and nodded my head. “Yeah...” I uttered breathily as I glanced over and saw an erection starting to rise beneath his pants.
He smiled as he
switched lanes. My heart palpitated as we matched pace with a bright yellow Jaguar.
“So how bad do you want me?” he asked with a seductive curiosity in his voice.
“I think you already know the answer to that,” I breathed almost inaudibly.
“What was that?”
he asked confidentially, returning his hand to my inner thigh.
“We probably shouldn’t be doing this... but I really want to.”
“Really?”
“Mmmhm,” I nodded, spreading my legs for him.
He slipped my panties to the side and began to play with my clit. It made me feel warm and giddy. He slipped two of his long thick fingers deep inside of me. My abdominal muscles tensed as he slowly slid his fingers in and out of me. I looked over at him; he had a full erection now. It looked like his cock was fighting to get out of his pants. I started salivating as I thought about how I wanted to kiss him and run my tongue all over his athletic body. I was so wet with excitement. He slid his fingers out of me and pressed them against my throbbing clit. He rubbed his fingers against me in a slow circular motion and my heart began to race for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
He leaned in close to me and breathed in deeply. “Mmmm, you smell so good when you’re excited,” he murmured in his deep melodic voice. He rubbed
me faster and faster and I felt a warmth well up in me and over take me. My muscles spasmed intensely and my breaths became shallow and quick.
“Oohhh!!” I let out a soft involuntary moan as I climaxed. I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath.
“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” he teased as he removed his hand from underneath my dress.
I looked over at him breathlessly as I watched him lick my juices from his fingers one at a time. “Ummmm unh unh,” was all I could mumble as I closed my eyes and rested
my head against the seat. I literally couldn’t believe what just happened.
Did I just get off at the hands of one of my biggest celebrity crushes? Yes, why yes I did! Shit! Do I still not have an interview? No, I don’t. Fuck!
I thought to myself.
“Hey,” I
turned my head toward him. “What was that all about?”
“I don’t know. What do you want it to be about?”
I shrugged and looked out the window as we exited the highway.
We pulled into a small private airport, and Christoff’s jet was already running. He left
the Benz to an attendant and he placed his hand on the small of my back as he escorted me inside the plane. The seats on the plane were the same soft black leather as the interior of the Mercedes. The entire interior of the plane looked like it was made of platinum, and there was soft neon-blue lighting. A flat screen television was built-in behind the cockpit. I’ve always fantasized about flying on a private jet, but this was better than I could have ever imagined. There was a group of four seats in the center of the plane that faced each other. Christoff gestured for me to sit directly across from him.
“Care for something to drink?” His baritone voice filled the entire plane.
“What do you have?”
“Anything and everything you could possibly want.”
“I’ll take a semi dry white wine.”
He pushed a button above his seat and within seconds a flight attendant appeared. He said something to her in German and she disappeared. We fastened our safety belts and prepared for take off. I love to travel but I’ve always gott
en nervous on planes. Taxiing down the runway can be fun, but being in the air is definitely not. I thought my head was going to explode as we picked up speed and I felt us leave the ground.
“You look nervous.”
Not wanting to seem vulnerable, I shook my head. “No,” I asserted.
Once we were cruising at altitude, the flight attendant appeared with a shiny chrome goblet of wine.
“This is a rare white wine made with Seyval grapes. It’s from my friend’s private vineyard. I think you will enjoy it,” Christoff explained as the flight attendant handed the wine to me.
I took a small sip. It was cool and sweet on my tongue but it made the rest of my body feel warm inside. “Mmmm, nice choice.” I nodded approvingly and took another sip.
Christoff spoke to the stewardess again in German. I can only understand bits and pieces of German but I heard him ask for some privacy. And I think I heard him say ‘We have an interview to do’ but perhaps it was wishful thinking.
“So, our interview.” He turned his attention to me.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I discreetly clicked on my digital recorder, but I did not place it where it was visible to him. I wanted him to talk freely and forget he was being recorded, if that were at all possible.
“I listened to the new album. I really like
it, but it’s pretty dark and aggressive... kind of melancholy too. What inspired it?” I asked casually.
“My loneliness. Being on stage night after night with all the energy and with thousands of fans screaming my name is such an enormous high. But when the
lights go down and the people disappear, it just leaves an enormous void. An emptiness that is the lowest of lows. And that’s what most of this album is about. The other tracks are about the pain my last relationship caused me when it ended. I wrote all of this album while on our first tour.”
“I don’t understand. Why the empty feeling? From what I’ve heard you’re never at a loss when it comes to companionship. You’ve had plenty of girlfriends... you always have a new one even before the last relationship e
nds.” I tried to withhold all sense of judgment from my voice the best I could.
“You’re right.” He cut me off. “I’ve had many girlfriends, some of the relationships overlapping, and they’ve all been great, but none of them have ever completely fulfilled me
emotionally.” He sighed and shifted his weight. “Or sexually.”
His open sexual frustration aroused mine. I put my wine goblet to my lips and emptied it in one fluid sip.
“Well I hate to revel in your pain, but all of that sure produced a wonderful album. Maybe it would be best if you remained broken-hearted for the fans’ sake. Your pain has produced such beautiful music.”
“I’m glad you’re a fan. Really, I am. The music is a great release but sometimes I still feel like I’m just going to explode with tensio
n,” he said clenching his fist. “It’s like my desires have a life of their own. They ravage me from the inside out. I try to tame... this fire... this beast within me, by letting it out with really aggressive music, and it does help some but not enough. Sometimes I try to feel better by having some fun with a lucky fan or two after a show.” He smiled arrogantly. “But there is so much risk there... lawsuits... stalkers... disease. And even when I put these risks aside and get my release, it’s never enough. I’ve been with some of the most beautiful and charming actresses and models but I have yet to find a woman who can fully satisfy me.”
I knew better than to buy into his self-indulgent pity party, but I couldn’t help myself. I actually felt kind of bad for h
im. I know what it’s like to appear on top of the world on the outside, but to have an aching void on the inside. Not only could I empathize with some of what he was saying, but also there was a force inside of me that wanted to rise to the challenge of satisfying the hungry animal called desire that left Christoff restless.
“Tell me more...” I prodded leaning forward. I always leaned in during interviews to make the person feel like they are interesting. It always makes them talk more. But this time I wasn
’t feigning interest or trying to manipulate. I felt drawn to Christoff like a magnet.
“I’m not a bad guy,” he continued. “I swear. I’m just terribly misunderstood. I love very deeply and sincerely. And I often get hurt in relationships. I try to be a good
man... I really do. But when my emptiness and my insatiable longing for more get the best of me, I end up doing things I later regret and hurting those most dear to me. And no matter how much I apologize, they always leave me and then they tell the media bad things about me. That’s how I got my bad reputation. And now that I have this reputation as a womanizer... a chauvinist, and didn’t you call me a narcissist?” He squinted his eyes at me.
I stayed silent and I tilted my chin down toward my chest and gaz
ed upward at him submissively and apologetically. This is a technique I use in interviews with alpha males. It works every time and this time was no exception.