Celebrity Sex Tape: Love Through LimeLight
Farrah Abraham
Book Three in the Celebrity Sex Tape series
The journey...
The fly-by-night lifestyle fades into the background. With enough sexual stories to last a lifetime, I find myself becoming the person I was destined to grow into. There’s more to this life; there’s The One. I can get anyone I want and this time that little voice that whispers “I’m going to do it” more than pays off.
The woman...
I'm not like every other person out there. Through the journey I’ve realized I’m not like many people. I am stronger than most and have found faith that others will finally see the person I really am behind all of the gossip. Many people fail to meet their potential but there are others who exceed their own dreams. I am one of those people.
The star...
To the world I'm not another starlet gone crazy: I have found the realism of life and its best parts through everyday experiences that I have made seem more bold and epic than anyone else could. Through this, I have shared with the world, making history not only in entertainment but through social efforts and diplomatic ventures. I have changed the world as we know it. It took some scandal to get so many to follow my story but the ending is well worth it.
Through all the betrayals, stigmas and bad press, Fallon Opal hasn’t given up on her dream of having a happy ending. Her lifestyle may have changed, but under it all, she’s the same innocent young woman who wants it all. The celebrity sex tape that changed Fallon’s life stands as a testament to her sexy fantasies. Those who have lived vicariously through her fame—the believers, fans, supports, and even the haters—will be shocked by Fallon’s true transformation. This happy ending is everything she ever wanted and her life—worthy of an Academy Award—is a story that needs to be shared.
A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Love Through LimeLight
Farrah Abraham
Section One: The View From Up Here
Chapter One
A frigid fall breeze sweeps by me, chilling me to the bone. I adjust the lapels on my coat suit blazer and try not to wince when the woman next to me looks at it with envy. This particular style is an exclusive design by a popular New York name. I wear it because it’s warm, comfortable and stylish. But the attention it brings me leaves something to be desired.
Instead of focusing on her, I do my best to survey the progress of the incomplete set we’re standing in. It always amazes me at how little work actually goes into creating the background for a movie. A few cosmetic touches are all that are really necessary and the environmental crew is busy doing just that. In just a few minutes, the section of the large park we are in will be completely transformed into an enchanting forest.
The cast for this scene is wearing only a little make-up. My wardrobe is simple enough—a pair of stylish white jeans and a flowing top make me look ethereal and wispish. This makes sense, since I am playing the forest sprite who will lead the “heroine” on her quest.
The heroine in question is standing next to me, shooting daggers from her eyes. I take a deep breath, instantly regretting it because the cold burns my lips. I almost feel bad for her. While my make-up and wardrobe are designed to make me look like something out of this world, the artists were pretty vocal about their amazement while working on me.
“It’s not going to take much to make your skin really shine, Fallon.” One of them said while she dusted my skin with glitter.
“I wish everyone had hair like yours.” Another exclaimed as she spun shimmering white leaves into my effortless curls.
They didn’t say anything while working on the other actress. In fact, based on their disappointed grunts and sighs, I’d say they—much like some of the other members of staff—were wishing I was the one to play the leading role.
The actress continues to stare at me until I feel it would be rude to keep ignoring her. I flash her my best smile, trying to remember her name. “I’d forgotten how cold it can get this far up north.”
She takes a second to answer, absentmindedly fiddling with the buttons on her own jacket. No doubt she thought she would be the best dressed cast member for this movie. I get the feeling she has something to prove when it comes to me. I may have taken a smaller role in this movie but everyone knows it was because I simply didn’t have time to take the lead. “I’m not too worried about it,” she begins, her voice practically oozing disdain. “I won’t be cold once we start shooting the fight scene.”
I hold my smile, despite her rude tone. I don’t need to sink to her level of nastiness. I only have to be on set for a few hours. The paparazzi are already buzzing around, trying to dig up the least amount of dirt they could on me. The public has finally gotten tired of hearing the same, tired old lies and I’m not giving them any ammunition to make up something better. “I’m sure you’ll do great. I hear you trained from months to get this role.”
A nasty smirk twists her mouth. It’s a shame, since I suppose she’s pretty enough. Or rather, she would be if she could look past her own nose. “That’s right. I studied several forms of martial art and I took a class in sword fighting.”
I nod even though I’m already bored. “That must have been difficult.”
“It was,” she mutters, moving out of the way when one of the sound crew members sweeps by. “Unlike your role, which is much easier.”
I let the comment go with a shrug. Her opinion doesn’t really matter for much in the long run and if she wants to be rude, I just won’t talk to her. I turn back to watch the rest of the set being placed, rubbing my gloved hands together.
After a few minutes, she starts up again, her voice pitched low so only I can hear it. “It must be nice, sleeping your way to the top. This movie won’t be one that you can get through on your back.”
This time when I turn to look at her, she takes a step back as if she realizes she’s made a terrible mistake. I immediately smooth out the threatening look I must have been giving her. It’s not that I would fight her or anything as classless as that. But my expression must have reminded her of just how powerful I am.
I turn to her, just in case there is anyone within hearing distance who might catch wind of what I am going to say. I do not raise my voice or alter my tone. But I will not let her disrespect me. I’ve had enough of that in my life. “Do not forget who the backers of this movie are. If I hadn’t pulled strings to get one of the best producers in the world on this project, it would still be sitting on some B-rate list, waiting for someone to be interested.”
The actress pales and swallows. It’s obvious I don’t have to voice the fact that I could easily have her removed from the project. I turn away from her again and this time she has the good sense to walk away. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and rub my gloved hands together. The soft, high-end material soothes me as it moves against my skin.
Right now all I want is to finish shooting so I can get back to my office. I have several important meetings lined up and I want a chance to unwind before my dinner with Barry. I smile at the thought, knowing that Barry will show me a good time tonight. Maybe I’ll even let him stay the night after. I could really use a little physical release.
Just thinking about Barry gets me excited and I have to take deep, cleansing breaths to calm down. The man is unlike anyone I’ve ever been with. He can spend hours with his face between my legs, stroking and teasing the sensitive button of my sex. When he’s done with, me I can barely walk or think. He slides his fat cock inside me, and I’m so wet and eager that my toes curl.
Johnni, my gay best friend, doesn’t like Barry. He says the man is “slippery like a snake.” But
how could someone who makes me feel so good be anything but? I suppose Johnni has a point. One of the first things that drew me to Barry was his dangerous vibe. He is one of those guys who drives a motorcycle and wears leather jackets. His jeans are always ripped and a little dirty. I get the feeling that he shaves his head so that there’s nothing in his face during the occasional bar brawl. His hands are huge and rough, scarred from hard work. His muscular arms are covered in tattoos of dark, violent things.
He is nothing like the sleek, suave men I have been used to. Maybe that’s why I like him so much.
I press my thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache I feel. It’s been too long. I don’t know if I can even focus on my lines at this rate. Not when I could be pressed against a wall with my legs wrapped around Barry’s strong, thick neck. It’s a strange position that was a little awkward at first, but now I love it.
Barry likes to press my back against a wall and lift me up until I’m high above his head. The vaulted ceilings in my high-rise apartment have never been put to better use. He pins me there with his big hands under my ass, holding my pussy right in front of his mouth. Eventually, he lets me lock my legs around his neck.
The sheer power required for him to put me there, let alone hold me up for hours, makes my stomach tighten. It’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever witnessed—and witness I do, since he likes to record his meals.
My knees go a little weak and I lean against a tree, careful to keep my outfit pristine. Even though it’s cold outside, I feel like my body is on fire.
The last time we got together, Barry refused to let me come until I was out of my mind with lust. I left scratches and welts all over his shoulders and the smooth, shiny skin of his bald head.
My mind turned to mush under the expert skill of his tongue and my juices ran down his bare chest from his mouth.
I swallow back a moan and press my face against the rough bark of the tree. My clit is throbbing, just as it was while he sucked it into his mouth and bit down lightly.
I press my body harder against the tree, hoping no one will notice the state I’m in. My breath comes out in misty puffs and I use the surface of the tree to discretely rub the tips of my breasts. The friction is barely there and I don’t want to get my outfit dirty. I glance around to make sure no one is paying me any attention. No one is, including the troublesome actress, and I breathe a little sigh of thanks.
Maybe I can get away for a few minutes. The thought of shoving a few fingers deep into myself—even if I have to do it in a bathroom stall—make my gut tighten. This is all Barry’s fault. I will make sure he takes care of me later.
That thought gives me a little strength and I decide not to handle it on my own. The anticipation will make it that much sweeter when Barry is nibbling on my clit. I take another deep breath, trying hard not to get my outfit dirty. Resisting the urge to grind against the hard tree is a delicious self-inflicted torture. My nipples burn with the rest of me and I picture Barry’s calloused hands pinching them.
I close my eyes and the fantasy becomes a vivid living picture in my brain. Barry is practically here. Touching me, teasing me, taking me. My lips part and I swear I can taste him in the air. His manly scent presses against my tongue and slides down my throat like rich, smooth honey.
Barry is not big on blow jobs. He has a thick, beautiful cock that fits perfectly in my mouth but he has to be in a really good mood to let me go down on him. I think it’s a control thing for him. He doesn’t want his most vulnerable body part under my complete control. I should be offended but his controlling nature is one of the things I like best about him.
When I do get to suck him off, his cock fills my mouth perfectly. It is warm and surprisingly clean, never musky. I love the way his bulbous head stretches out the back of my throat, and the feel of his big balls hitting my chin drives me wild.
I want to sixty-nine with this man more than I have ever wanted to do it with anyone else. I’d love to spend the same amount of time riding his cock with my lips as he does tormenting me in the best ways.
I’d use my hands to massage the load in his sac, even as I bobbed my head up and down. He would have to lie beneath me for it to work because there’s no way I would be able to move with his big body pinning me down.
I would suck him until his cum shot out, until my cheeks hollowed out. And knowing him, he would repay my efforts by upping his own game, wrapping his lips around the entirety of my pussy and inhaling until I was screaming, begging him for release.
I want to feel his come sliding down the back of my throat while I explode on the tip of his tongue. That’s what I want to be doing right now, rather than standing on a freezing movie set waiting for—
“Miss Opal? Miss Opal? Fallon.”
I jerk out of my daydream and stand up straight. One of the director’s assistants is looking at me with some concern. I vaguely wonder how long he’s been calling me. I plaster the same smile on my face as I had used with actress not-worth-remembering-her-name. “Sorry about that, I must have dozed off.”
He nods, more than willing to agree to whatever I say. “We’re ready for you now, if you think you can continue.”
I shift slightly, discreetly checking to make sure none of the moisture from my pussy has seeped through my jeans. When I am sure everything is in order, I push away from the tree. “Of course I’m ready to go. Just point me in the right direction.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
* * * * *
Several hours later, I push through the double doors that lead to my office space. It’s a small but respectable four-room establishment in a prominent building located in the heart of the city. The first room is the largest and serves as my receiving room. Behind a modern-style desk in the boutique entry, my receptionist/administrative assistant is painting her nails. The phone next to her rings for several seconds and when I clear my throat she finally reaches over and picks it up.
“You’ve reached the offices of Opal Incorporated, this is Arianna speaking. How may I direct your call?”
I grit my teeth in annoyance but say nothing as I head to my office. Arianna is probably one of the worst employees I’ve ever hired but she knows all of the best hot spots in the area. She’s a great shopping buddy and on days when Johnni is busy, I definitely need someone who is a bit more familiar with New York so that I don’t have to waste time in the wrong places.
One of the four rooms in the space is my office. Unlike the waiting room, which is decorated in polished white tiles and deep purple fabrics, my office is cool and calming—therapeutic at that. A water feature lines the entire back of the room and fills the air with a slight trickling sound. Every time I step into the room I am awash with a sense of peace and calmness. So much of my day is pure chaos that I value this oasis more than anything else.
I throw my pack onto one of my lounge seats and make my way to the office chair behind my desk. After a few moments, I settle into the expensive material and push a button that sends the panels covering the flour-to-ceiling windows to the side.
I suck in a pleased breath the same way I do every time. My view of the city is gorgeous and well worth the handful of zeros I add to my rent for this place every month. My condo is nice but being in the heart of the city like this lets me see way more than I can from there.
From here I can see more than what my eyes take in. This view is a promise to myself, a goal that I will absolutely reach. I already own a number of businesses and my corporation can only grow. I have fingers in the fashion, technology and industrial worlds. But I want more. I won’t be satisfied until my businesses are stable in other countries. Not just the underground of North America. I want it all.
And I am going to have it.
Chapter Two
“I hear the reviews for the prescreening are doing really well,” says Giulia.
I run my hands through my hair and settle back into the comfortable chaise in Giulia’s office. She’s been my therapist for the las
t year and I have really been able to connect with her. She has wavy hair and intelligent gray eyes that let me know I can tell her anything without fearing her judgment. That is exactly what I need, especially now.
“Yeah, that’s what they’re saying.” I kick off my shoes and let them hit the soft carpet beneath us. Usually I am more careful with things like that but today I just need to relax. “I guess I should be more excited.”
Giulia unbuttons the top button of her jacket and mimics my shrug. The pages of her notepad flutter as she looks through what she’s got written. “Seems to me that you’ve got more on your mind than keeping up appearances.”
That catches my attention. It’s unlike her to give her opinion so openly unless I ask for it. “What do you mean?”
She sighs a little and I know she’s about to say something that she shouldn’t. Sometimes she blurs the line between being my therapist and being my friend. I know most people would say it is unprofessional but to me, it’s invaluable honesty. She tells me how she sees things in these moments instead of spouting off the usual therapist “And how does that make you feel?”
“Well, don’t get me wrong, it’s great to see you up on the screen. Your face is on billboards and in magazines. And not just those ratty tabloids, you’re in all sorts of things.”
I nod, waiting for her to continue. She knows I don’t need my ego stroked so there must be a point coming.
“You worked really hard to get that respect and it’s a huge accomplishment. Anyone who knows you would say so.”
“But?”
“But it feels like you feel like you’re wasting your time. Does that make sense?”
I have to take a moment to reflect on her confusing sentence. I take my time, knowing that Giulia will wait for as long as I need. There is no rush. “You mean that I have somehow given you the impression that I feel like I should be doing something else with my time?”
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