How Ashley J. Changed Her Image
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Copyright 2002, 2003. All Rights Reserved.
I didn’t know anything about him except that his name was Brent, and that he was cute, funny, played the guitar and wore tight black pants. I liked his butt, and giggled about it to my girlfriends after track practice, on the plane, or on the bus on the way to competitions. They laughed at me, and went out on dates with their overachieving athletic boyfriends from UCLA or some obscure college in Oregon. But I had the last laugh
I didn’t come right out and say I wanted to meet Brent. That would be a curse. Having dealt with famous men quite a bit, I knew groupies, fans and starlets hit them on all the time. An attractive woman coming on to him would mean nothing.
I heard they would be filming a TV special in Spain, so I took the first flight to Madrid that was available. I didn’t tell my parents, manager or coach where I was going. No one knew about my plans except my best friend Teresa. After I checked into the same hotel where the band was staying, I asked around and found Brent by the patio bar with his friends. I walked up to them-the old guy who was with him saw me first. But then I saw him all dressed in leather pants, an elaborate belt buckle, and a loose satin shirt. I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or drool. So I smiled, an unmistakable invitation that belied my innocence. There were no other women around. Good, I thought, he has to notice me.
But his blond friend, the bass player, approached me first. “Hey, I know you…you’re that track star girl who plays the flute. I saw you on TV last week.”
“That’s right! Ashley Juniper! I thought it was you.” The old guy, whom I figured was a bodyguard, said. “But then I thought what the hell would a nice girl like that be doing around a buncha sleazy bastards like us.”
“Maybe I like to live dangerously.” I smiled and looked past him at Brent.
“Who’s this?” Brent moved toward me with a purpose. I had been warned that he was no gentleman, though I hoped against hope that he would surprise me. He didn’t. “You’re real clean looking, a little doll. “Nice tits. Small but perky.” He reached out to pinch my nipples, which protruded beneath my halter-top.
His friend stopped him. “Be cool, man. She’s not some skank groupie. She was in the Olympics.”
“You’ll have to excuse him. We rarely let him out of the cave.” The old guy laughed.
I moved closer to Brent. “I tried to met you at your concert in New York, but there was to much going on. Your manager wouldn’t let anyone get near you.”
“Yeah, New York was all fucked up – listen, you wanna go get a drink? You are old enough to drink, aren’t you?”
“C’mon, I just graduated from Stanford. I’m almost 22 – one teensy drink is no problem”
“Hmm. I don’t think I’ve even met a college girl before – except for our publicist.” He seemed intrigued by this revelation.
“Let’s go, George,” the old guy said to the blond, “I know a cabaret here where we can get ourselves a few strippers. We’re not needed here.”
After his friends disappeared into the parking lot, Brent slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me up against his chest. Up close, I saw that he had blue eyes, very deep and expressive. Onstage, they seemed a neutered brown. His hair was thick and dark brown; his body slim beneath the rock star trappings.
He slipped one of his big, rough guitarist’s hands into mine. His skin felt so rough and comforting against my delicate palm.
“There’s a quiet little bar down the beach a bit. They have the best margaritas.” We took our shoes off and walked barefoot on the beach til we got to the bar, which was nothing more than a quaint little wood shack a few paces off the shore.
We settled down and ordered two huge margaritas. “Why me?” Brent asked. “I’m sure you could have gone after any guy you wanted. ” He seemed amazed that I had even heard of him.
” I don’t want to marry my high school sweetheart like my girlfriends. Escort bayan I want to be in movies and TV – but not like the squeaky clean shows my manager wants. I want to do sexier stuff – not like porno – but sexy stuff. I hate the guys my manager and parents want me to date. They’re so…boring.”
“Well, you never have to be bored again.” He nuzzled my neck playfully and blew sweet spearmint breath into my ear. I caught a glimpse of an older woman at the next table eyeing us scornfully. In a weird way, it made me proud – like I was that much closer to achieving my goal.
We sat and talked, lingering over our margaritas til the rest of the customers were gone. He told me a lot about his band and his music, but very little about his family or his life before the band. When I mentioned how my Dad had paid for my music lessons as a kid, his smile disappeared; then he tensed up and changed the subject. That’s when I knew his brash demeanor was hiding something very sad.
The staff watched us anxiously, waiting for us to finish. Brent tipped them with a hundred-dollar bill.
He took me to his hotel suite and ordered the most expensive champagne from room service, but we didn’t drink any. He tore my top off and poured the champagne over my tits. He licked it off me, tweaking and licking my hard nipples. Then he poured the remainder of the bottle on my pussy. He played with it, fingering me gently at first. “You tell me if I get to rough. I don’t wanna hurt you. I’m not used to being with.. ummm.. inexperienced women”.
“I’m not a fragile little doll. I can take it.”
He slipped one finger inside me. “Does that hurt?”
“No, it feels good. Keep doing it.” Slowly, he explored me, slipping another finger inside me and
“You’re sooo wet”
“You know, I masturbated over you.” I purred.
“Yeah – and what did you think about when you played with yourself?”
“Your cock – big, hard and wet inside me.”
He hadn’t kissed me yet. I grabbed his face and kissed him. At first he tugged away then his muscles eased and he slipped his tongue in my mouth. I reached down and slipped my hands down his pants.
Outside, the glittering white beach beckoned. “Yeah, we’ll fuck outside later – you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You sports girls like that…doing it outside, I bet.”
“And you rock ‘n ‘roll boys, where do you like to do it?”
“Everywhere – in the john, in the tour bus, in the back of a limo, anywhere.” I felt his cock getting hard in my hand and giggled.
“You ever seen one close-up before?”
Yeah, a coupla times.” He undid his belt buckle and pulled his pants down. I set upon him quickly only taking a quick glimpse of him before putting it in my mouth and licking it gently, like an ice cream cone, like Sissy Barnett, the team slut, had told me.
“Oh, yeah you’ve sucked dick before.”
I hadn’t, but I didn’t want him to think she was a total nerd. I kept at it gently sucking it, turned on the more by his groans.
There was a knock on the door. It was his partner, George, again. I caught snippets of the conversation.
“I’m trying to fuck this sweet thing all hard and nasty, like she wants…wanna do it right for her…
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” George said. “Well, she’s waited this long for you. She can wait another hour. There are some hotshot producers in the lobby Manny wants you to met.”
“Tell em I’ll be down in about an hour. Entertain ’em – I’m busy here.” Brent slammed the door closed and returned to me.
“Yeah, you’re much more important. You got a great little body,” His erection jutted out, at its fullest and liveliest. I could barely control myself.
“I want that inside me…”
“Sssh, not just yet. I need to tease you”
“You ever had your pussy eaten?”
I shook my head.
He spread my legs and knelt down, getting closer to my pussy than any gynecologist ever had. Even when I put Bayan Escort a tampon in she didn’t look at it as closely as he did.
Then he licked me. Amazed, I watched his tongue slip into my pussy and squirmed – I’d heard of cunnilingus, but had no idea how intense it felt. The sounds that came out of me were astonishing. Moans and little yelps that I thought were positively incapable of coming out of a human or even an animal.
His head bobbed between my legs as his mouth made me shudder to my core.
When he came up for air, his chin was wet with pussy juice, his cock bigger and harder.
“You’re ready now.”
“Look what you do to this thing.” Brent brushed his cock against my pussy. My clit had been coaxed into the shape of an eager rose by his tongue. “You’re like the perfect woman. You look like vanilla ice cream but you’re really a jalepeno pepper.”
Brent towered above me, taking charge so gently. I lost all desire to instruct him on what I wanted or to even speak at all. So much for all my dominant fantasies.
Reality was much better.
Brent straddled me. His body emitted carnal power and overwhelmed my senses. Every tiny move he made was totally uninhibited and joyous. The quick, perfunctory encounters I’d had with some of my college classmates and guys on the track team were amateur groping. This was sex.
With all the ease of an accomplished but thoughtful man-slut, he slid his cock into me. My slick pussy swallowed him whole. “Feel that, Ashley. Doesn’t it make you feel good.”
“Yes.” I could barely let a syllable out; the sensation was so consuming. A dewy, musty veneer of sweat coated Brent’s body as he fucked me. I explored his chest with my hands and then finally caressed the ass that looked so good in tight red pants, but ever better uncovered. Instead of the dirty talk I’d dreamed about, I got the wordless, snaky writhing of lust personified. Yet Brent’s body did not reveal the extent of his pleasure. The otherworldly delight that registered on his face confused me. Was I hurting him somehow?
“Brent, are you all right?” I cupped my hands on his face, feeling the muscles there softly pulsing with delight. I kissed his forehead. He said nothing. Brent stared at me, drinking me in, fucking me with his eyes as well as his body.
The welcome presence inside me and the studied ease of his stray finger on my clit drew dozens of little orgasms
throughout my body. Even my fingertips tingled as I clutched his back.
The intensity of my own feelings could not prepare me for his orgasm. Brent let out a guttural roar that was, to my untrained ear at least, just as comic as it was sexual. Then he sprayed a torment of cum over me, shaking his cock so every stray drop made its way onto my body, like paint thrown on a canvas. At first it frightened me, but then I lost myself in the warm, life-giving substance and rubbed it into my skin.
Much to my surprise, Brent initiated the after-sex cuddling, peppering my face with kisses. “You are so hot…will stay here with me the rest if the week and let me fuck you?” He asked so sweetly, with such an earnest hunger in his eyes, of course I said yes.
Then he changed gears so fast I almost got the bends. “I’ll be back in a few,” Brent slapped my ass as he slipped out of bed. “I gotta see what that damn idiot manager of mine is up to.” He grabbed a pair of jeans from the floor and disappeared into the john, returning a few minutes later all spruced up, ready for a business meeting. “I’ll see you in awhile. And whatever you do, don’t put any clothes on.” He combed his hair, admired himself in the mirror, and planted a sloppy kiss on my forehead before leaving. It was a routine he had performed hundreds of times before, no doubt.
I occupied myself with a long bath and used the oils and perfumes in the well-stocked, luxurious bathroom. An hour passed and he didn’t return. I expected him to fuck Escort and run, but it still hurt. Maybe there was something to marrying your high school sweetheart after all.
Then the door crashed open. “Where is she? I wanna see her. You’re lying. What would a goodie-twoshoes, Wheatie box girl be doing here” A high-pitched woman’s voice resonated through the cavernous suite.
“Hey, Genie! I bet she’s in the Jacuzzi,” I heard Brent say, “Whaddaya say we join her? Get a quickie in before dinner?
The girl, a requisite bleached blonde in a leather mini-skirt, gasped when she saw me.
“Omigod! Brent was your first rock star! Oh, honey, that’ll turn you into a lesbian for sure,” the girl laughed.
“I’d like to see that,” George said as he followed the girl into the bathroom.
George and Genie stripped and jumped in the Jacuzzi like kids jumping into a swimming pool. Brent fucked me again while George took the other girl. It was nasty heaven feeling Brent inside me again, listening to him talk dirty (finally!), touching and tasting him while glancing over at George and his girlfriend going at it. Brent pulled out of the tub, and laid me on the on the floor where he came all over my face. I had never tasted cum before, but I licked it off my lips. “Oh yeah, it tastes good, huh?” It seemed to make Brent happy so I did it again. I licked a drop off my cheek and watched his face light up.
George and Genie dried each other off and changed back into their clothes with the swiftness of stage actors between set changes. “We’ll be in the restaurant downstairs – the really fancy one – La Cochina. Don’t keep us waiting too long” Genie winked.
Brent helped me up and very gently washed the sweat and sex off me with a lavender scented washcloth.
“Yeah. Did I turn you into a dirty girl? Did I do my job right?”
Oh, yes I’ve been totally converted” I kissed him and flicked a stray cascade of hair out of his eyes.
“Do we have to go downstairs now and be presentable?”
“I guess we do. Genie and George are waiting.”
I ran back to the room I had booked down the hall and changed into something reasonably demure. I had only brought one good dress and I slung it on quickly and pinned up my hair. At the restaurant, the wait staff doted over us. I’m sure they were told that we had a lot of money. I reverted back to the good manners I had learned in my TV athlete days. “You’re not gonna cast me away like one of your groupies, are you?” I asked Brent
“Oh, no. You’re a good student and you have lots more to learn” He slipped his hand underneath the table and inside my panties. I let out a high-pitched giggle.
I looked up and noticed a bearded, squinty-eyed voyeur sitting nearby.
“Who the hell is that guy at the table across from us and why is he looking at us so weird?”
“Oh, Christ – I know that guy he’s a photographer for one of those celebrity rags. He was following us around. I think he’s here for an exclusive.” Brent said.
“Get him the fuck out of here…” George gave him a dirty look…”Where’s the bodyguard?”
Genie got up. “Chasing after some local girl. Lemme find him.
“No, don’t bother – that might not be necessary.” Brent leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Do you really wanna change your image – leave the good girl behind. Did you really mean all that stuff you told me?”
“Yes, I sure did.”
“Cause I can make sure no one calls you a good girl again…trust me, no one can cause a scandal like I can. Ain’t that right, Georgie?”
“Oh, no, here we go again” George poured himself more champagne. Genie took the rest of the bottle and drank straight from it. Brent pulled my top down so the nipples just about popped out of my blouse; then he edged over and sat and on my lap, French kissing me, loud and sloppy, before moving on down to my neck. The photographer jumped up and flash bulbs popped like bullets all over the place. We were all kicked out of the restaurant just before Brent got to my breasts.
The acting and modeling offers started the next day.
Under Brent’s tutelage, I had achieved my goal. I had metamorphosed from clean-cut athlete to jet-setting slut in one easy lesson.
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