She's a Star (a Hollywood Hotwife story) (6 page)

“Of course not.”

I watched her looking at herself in the mirror, her hands running over her curves as though examining what Aaron Simpson might lust after—or what the audience in hundreds or thousands of movie theaters across the world would lust over when the picture was released.

“So then…” I said.

She laughed. “So wait. You want me to date my co-star, and I can kiss him if I like, and you’re not pissed at me at all?”

“I said: I trust you.”

She pulled her top up to reveal her fine midriff and her beautifully rounded breasts. What had happened to her bra? Then she slowly pulled it over her head. This was who I had sent out there to date another man. This is the exquisite beauty another man kissed tonight.

“You know, I think it worked?” she said, gently stroking her breasts in front of the mirror. “Having dinner with him…making him think I was into him….”

She turned to me, and I could see how hard her nipples were even in the low light from the single bedside lamp illuminating our bedroom. She enjoyed the effect she had on me when I watched her. The same way, I guessed, she enjoyed the attention of other men—including Aaron.

I watched her pull down her jeans, and underneath her panties were almost transparent. Jesus. I did get a little shiver of pleasure at getting to see such a thing when impressive men like Aaron Simpson could not.

“It makes him want you,” I said.

“It makes our performance more credible,” she corrected me as she came to sit on the bed next to me.

“So you have any more dates lined up?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Although he did ask if I wanted to get together Tuesday, just before we head off to Europe.”

Hayley leaned over me, her hand slipping under the bed sheets, reaching for my crotch. She caught her breath as her fingers found their way around my raging erection.

“Somebody’s pleased to see me.” She was joking, but the way she bit her lip as she slowly peeled back the covers and then my boxer shorts was completely serious.

“It’s not every day he gets to see an actress profiled by the New York Times stripping off,” I said.

“A lot of days, though,” she grinned, brushing her red hair back over her shoulders, out of her face, before lying down to take my stiff shaft in her hands—and in her mouth.

“You are really hard.” She drew her tongue up from the base of my shaft to my tip. “It’s not always like this….”

My state of hardness drew her up, to quickly remove her panties and then climb onto me again, to take my cock inside her hot pussy, riding me reverse-cowgirl, facing my feet.

“You’re really wet,” I said, teasing her a little. “You’re not always like this….”

“It’s just how I get when the performance is going well,” she insisted.

“Or if the date with Aaron is going well.”

She paused, and it could just have been because she was dealing with the feelings running through her because my cock was filling her up so tightly. But my dark side, the side where the fantasy was imprinted in my circuits, persuaded me that it was because there was some element of truth in what I said about her date.

“That turns you on?”

I felt my cock throbbing at that, as the butterflies in my stomach were sent fluttering all over the place. Hayley laughed, so I guess she felt it, too.

I said, “I don’t know. I guess so.”

“And because I kissed him?”

The next throb of my fiercely hard cock was as good as an answer for her. It made her emit another a little gasp.

“And what if I’d let him touch me?” she asked. Her hips gyrated over me, coaxing my cock with her tight pussy. Again, I was throbbing at her words. “If I’d let him put his hands under my top, on my bare skin, on my breasts while he kissed me?”

Another throb.

“You’re not the slightest bit jealous?”

The thing was, I was jealous. A little, anyway. There was certainly a dark side to the way I felt about her being with someone else. And yet at the same time, it only seemed to add to the excitement, lending an adrenaline rush to what would otherwise only be sexual arousal.

“You know, I think I am a little,” I said. “It’s just…I know that I wouldn’t lose you. I do trust you.”

She said, “And if I let him take me home? Let him tear off my clothes? Fuck me on his bed?”

Again, more throbbing down below. Hayley prised herself off me, then turned around to face me, taking my cock back inside her to resume her bouncing on me. She wanted to see my face as she continued probing me about this strange little response of mine to her date.

“You want me to sleep with him, don’t you?” she asked. Again, my hardness betrayed my true feelings.

She was so flushed, shocked at discovering this dirty fantasy of mine. But perhaps it turned her on too to some degree.

She said, “You like the idea of me cheating on you?”

I held her waist and thrust my hips upward to drive my hardness deep inside her. “It’s not cheating if I know about it,” I said.

“And if you approve, right?” she panted. “What…is it about? You want…me to let you sleep with some other woman?”

“It’s nothing like that,” I insisted. I was actually a touch surprised that, from her expression, she was believing me fully. I guess trust works both ways.

“It…turns you on…the thought of me…being with someone else?”

I smiled. “I can’t really explain it, it just is.”

She grinned, and focused on the movement of her hips, fucking me hard, making the most of the enhanced state of my arousal that night.

She collapsed on me as the orgasm tore through us both, and we were rolling around coming and laughing and gasping for breath—I’ve never experienced anything like it before.

“You know…it could never happen, don’t you?” she said as we finally came to a halt, lying side by side, sweaty and exhausted.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’d never really be able to cheat on you—even if you said I could.”

“It’s not cheating—”

“—If you let me, I know,” she finished. “But even so, I’d feel too guilty. And I’d worry that if I really did it, perhaps you’d change your mind. The fantasy…well, it wouldn’t stack up to reality.”

“Nobody’s telling you to do it,” I said. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure whether I really wanted it to happen or not, either. Then I added, “It’s just…if you were ever tempted….”

She laughed. “You are crazy. I need to cool off with Aaron. Things are moving too fast.”

I sighed inwardly at that, though on the plus side, I knew the two of them would be shooting their love scenes soon enough.

Chapter Five

It wasn’t long before the New York Times profile on Hayley came out, and suddenly everything was changing. For a start, we had photographers lurking outside our little home in Redondo Beach—some of whom seemed to follow Hayley wherever she went.

As a result of that, the two of us moved into a hotel—the Belle Époque out in Beverley Hills—which was geared up to offer the rich and famous some protection from the paparazzi stalkers, although it didn’t help when Hayley was away from the hotel. Liona helped us find a suitable real estate agent to step up our search for a new home that would give us a little more privacy, but ultimately she told us: “Face it, guys, your lives are about to go completely strange.”

The Times profile led fairly rapidly to a day for Hayley spent with a photographer from GQ magazine. They wanted to capitalize on the Times profile, so GQ managed to squeeze a photoset into its very next issue. And it was quite a racy photoset, offering Hayley lounging around an apartment wearing nothing but expensive lingerie.

While I was at work one morning, a co-worker of mine, Adrian Bassett, came up to my desk. “Is that your wife doing a movie with Aaron Simpson?”

I’d kept the whole status of Hayley on the low-key at my office, so I was a little surprised Adrian came straight out and asked me.

“Uh-huh,” I saw no alternative but to confirm.

“Jesus, man! You are one lucky sum-bitch.”

I smiled, and stammered a brief thank you for the compliment, but I didn’t quite know how to handle it. Later that day, various people—mainly guys, but some women—approached me to comment about Hayley’s GQ spread. Only one person, a paralegal named Riley, warned me to be careful letting my wife get too close to Aaron Simpson.

“He is one hot piece of work,” the tall brunette said. “You wanna make sure she comes home at night.”

After that, I seemed to enjoy a little enhanced status at work, though I felt the need to downplay any talk about my wife, it was something of a distraction otherwise.

Hayley definitely enjoyed the buzz as her profile increased, however, and thrived off the attention. And all the trappings of fame came so suddenly that at first, it was entertaining. When we were sat at home together, we looked at online articles and magazines, not to mention gossipy TV shows, which were all becoming obsessed with the new star of Aaron Simpson’s latest picture.

“Jesus, it’s not even out yet!” Hayley protested, but she was smiling about it.

It might be irritating to live in a hotel until we could move into a more private residence, but at least it was a luxury hotel—and the movie studio was paying for it, so its star would be in form for the rest of the shoot.

There were ‘news’ stories about what dress Hayley wore to dinner at a certain restaurant. Stories about how everyone on the movie loved her, how Aaron Simpson couldn’t get enough of her, about various fictional movie offers that were coming her way as a result of her current role. There were also the bad stories, though at this stage they were more amusing to Hayley than anything. Stories about her having a bad hair day, when actually she’d been pictured in between shooting scenes where her hair had been meant to be that way. There were the fake family stories about some fictional uncle who was struggling with alcoholism, forcing Hayley to fly back to visit him and lend him her support every other week. There were the intrusive stories of what clothes Hayley was buying, what food she was eating, what music she was listening to.

And some of it was her new publicist’s work, of course. Jake was working with Liona to build up Hayley’s profile, so that when it came to negotiating fees for her next movie project, she’d get more than a C-list nobody.

There wasn’t much coverage even mentioning that Hayley was married—it seemed an aspect of her life that was simply ignored, with most pictures showing her with Aaron, or with other co-stars, hobnobbing with other celebrities where and when it happened. I was left out of the picture, though, and that was perfectly fine with me.

*

A couple days before production moved thousands of miles away to Europe, I came back to our hotel suite to find Hayley gazing in the mirror at herself, standing there in a pair of jeans and a black-and-white floral top, and for a moment I paused, not wanting her to know I could see her.

Here was this “ordinary girl” that I’d always known, who was now shooting a major Hollywood movie opposite Aaron Simpson. Her life was changing beyond all recognition. Was she the same girl she’d always seen in the mirror?

Her thumbs dipped beneath the waistband of her jeans, pulling them slightly down to reveal a band of midriff—and then, startling me a little as I watched—the top of her bush, the tidy patch of hair leading down to the delights beneath.

While one of her hands held down the front of her jeans, she started stroking the soft hair on her mound with the other. Then she forced her jeans down a little more, and was stroking her muff with both hands, teasing the hairs with her fingers.

I took another step up the stairs, and it duly creaked rather loudly underfoot.

Hayley didn’t try to hide herself, or cover up what she’d been doing.

She said, “Hey,” as though she’d known I was standing there watching her all the time.

“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

She pushed her jeans down, and I saw that she wasn’t wearing any panties. Had she really gone commando for her latest read-through with Aaron Simpson?

“I’m going to have to wax it,” she said, and I stepped up behind her to watch her stroking her pubic hair in the mirror.

“For the movie?”

“Uh-huh.”

I felt a little ripple of arousal. She’d never waxed for me. But she was doing it so that when it came time to lie with Aaron Simpson, she was completely hairless down there. I guess she would have millions of people watching her when the movie came out, too. It was exciting to think of her doing something so intimate because she was going to show off her nakedness to other men. There was no other reason to wax her pussy other than to ensure that when other men saw it, it was a turn-on.

I liked her having a little hair down there. But I couldn’t get away from the fact that it seemed more than slightly naughty for her to want to wax it, and not for my benefit as her husband. That had me going.

I hugged her gently from behind, nuzzling into her neck, one of my hands slipping round to find its way to her mound, my fingers easing into the soft hair to replace her caresses there.