by Lisa Ferrari
I place my hands on Kellan’s hamstrings, driving his legs toward the table with all of my weight. I climb up onto the edge of the pool table, my knees on the edge, so I have more leverage.
I pick up the pace.
Kellan reaches down and begins to stroke himself.
“No,” I say, pulling his hand away. “Don’t touch it.” I want to see if I can make him come with my toy inside him, an anal orgasm or a prostate orgasm.
Kellan nods in understanding.
I thrust myself into him, driving, driving, driving, in and out and in and out.
I squirt more lube.
Kellan moans.
His erection is so hard it’s standing up, pointed nearly toward the ceiling.
I can feel my own orgasm approaching. I’m not sure if seeing me come again will encourage or distract him.
For now I focus on him.
I continue my steady rhythm in and out.
My breathing increases.
I’m beginning to perspire.
It’s like doing cardio.
Now I understand why Kellan gets so hot and sweaty while making love to me. A sheen of sweat appears on my breasts and abdomen and arms. This is a lot of work. No wonder men pass out after sex, because of the exertion and the hormonal cascade in their brain. Something about that biological cocktail knocks men out while in women it energizes them.
Kellan sees it, too, my nude body covered in glistening sweat. “Oh, God, Claire. Oh, God, yes…” he says over and over again in between gasps for air. “Oh, God, something’s happening…”
Kellan lifts his head and looks at me, imploringly, then looks down at his erection. A strand of clear fluid has leaked out of him and dripped onto his stomach. “I think… I think…”
“Just relax,” I breathe, thrusting thrusting thrusting away, “let it happen. We’ve got all night.”
Kellan nods at me and our eyes meet. We stare at each other while I make love to him and he receives me, both of us vulnerable in this oh-so-intimate moment.
“You look so sexy right now,” Kellan gasps.
“I love fucking you,” I say.
Kellan reaches up and caresses my sweaty breasts, smearing the sweat all around, all around my stomach. He wets both of his hands and lathers his own body with it.
“Faster, Claire.”
I push on his legs so I can get my feet beneath me. I squat on my spiky heels, using the downward angle for more balance, pushing against the lip of the pool table. Now I can really drive myself into him, using my legs and hips and abs, faster and harder.
Wow, I’m really giving it to him.
Kellan has an almost pained look on his face as he stares up at me.
“Am I hurting you?”
He shakes his head. “No. I love it. God, I love it, Claire. Don’t stop… don’t stop… don’t stop…”
A few seconds later, his eyes meet mine.
“I’m coming,” he whispers.
We both look down.
His erection begins to pulsate. White ropes of semen erupt, shooting all over his stomach and chest. “I’m coming, Claire. Oh God, I’m coming again. You’re making me come again.”
Kellan’s head drops back against the green felt and his eyes clamp shut. His hands tighten into fists. His body curls upward, his abs popping. Kellan falls silent, holding his breath as he comes.
My entire being is focused on him, studying his every move, his every sound. I try my best to sense what’s happening, the rush of pleasure chemicals flooding his brain, and I begin to slow my thrusts, until at last I’m still as his body begins to relax. Small spasms ripple through him. He rolls to one side, curled up on the table.
I unfasten the straps of my toy and remove it and my shorts, then gently let it ease out of Kellan. I curl up behind him on the table, my body pressed tightly against his. I try to control my breathing, try to catch my breath. I drape one arm over his body and he takes my hand in both of his and kisses it.
A few seconds later, he’s asleep.
KELLAN AWAKENS LATER.
It’s almost midnight. I’m curled up in one of the big overstuffed recliners, reading.
Kellan is still curled up on the pool table. I put a blanket over him and eased a pillow under his head about an hour ago, after he’d fallen asleep. He lifts his head now and looks at me.
I put down my book (The Visible Man, which I’ve read three times already) and go to him. I stroke his hair and kiss him. “Hi.”
“Hi. What time is it?”
“Almost midnight.”
“Am I alive?”
“Yes.” I kiss him again and stroke his hair. “How do you feel?”
Kellan stretches luxuriantly. “I feel amazing. A little hungry. Ready to get into the spa, I think.” He slowly climbs off the pool table, surveying it. “Well, I don’t think we’ll ever be able to enjoy an actual game of pool with a straight face.”
I’m only half listening because I’m admiring his perfect, naked body, which is perfect. Perfect.
Kellan says, “Imagine if some day Denise and Mark visit and we all play pool together.”
“I hope there aren’t any come stains on the felt. Denise will spot them immediately.”
We laugh and Kellan puts his arms around me and hugs me tight and kisses my hair. I’m acutely aware of his penis hanging between his legs. It looks longer than it usually does. I can feel it pressed against my leg.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Kellan asks.
“Do what?”
“What you just did to me.”
“Nowhere.”
“That was all improvisation?”
I nod. “Did you like it?”
“That’s an understatement.”
“Would you like to do it again?”
“Right now?” He sounds alarmed.
“Maybe.” I smile and kiss him. “No, I mean in general.”
“Oh. Yes, of course. I didn’t think I could actually come a second time like that. That’s the kind of thing you only see on the internet.”
Kellan is absolutely right. I have seen some video clips online of women pegging men. I’ve always felt that too much porn is bad. But a little here and there can be fun. Depending on what’s depicted, of course. It’s always been my fantasy to do what I just did to Kellan. I think it may qualify as a bona fide fetish.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask.
“Of course.” He kisses my hair.
“Does what we just did make you uncomfortable or embarrassed?” I hurry on quickly, so he doesn’t misunderstand what I’m trying to say (assuming, of course, that I understand what I’m trying to say). “It’s just that, that one night at your place, back home-”
“Our place.”
“Right. Our place. But, that one night, when you asked me to do that to you on the weight bench in the home gym and you played ‘Crazy Train’ really loud and… And then we had our talk, and you told me what happened to you and I told you what happened to me… I guess… I want you to feel comfortable with me. I don’t want you to feel like you need to hide what you want, or feel like you can’t ask me to do things or to try things. I don’t want you to feel ashamed.” I run out of steam, lost in my frightened confusion.
Kellan kisses my hair once more. “I know. Thank you.”
I turn my face up to him, hopeful that he does know.
He smiles and kisses me. “I know,” he whispers.
KELLAN AND I practically carry one another to the kitchen. It occurs to me that we’re both naked. Kellan grabs a hand towel and drapes it across a bar stool so I can sit at the breakfast bar island in the middle of the kitchen. He moves about, taking an inventory of the cupboard, the pantry, the massive Deep Zero Titanium series refrigerator, which is one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. It has a big panel of grey glass on the front and when you tap it, the light inside the fridge turns on and the glass appears opaque s
o you can see what’s in the fridge.
Kellan says, “Don’t you just love this fridge?”
“Almost as much as I love you.”
He looks over his shoulder at me and smiles.
“And that big beautiful thing between your legs,” I add. I swear it hangs halfway to his knees. I can’t get enough of it.
Kellan smiles at me.
“Does it ever get in the way?” I ask.
“What? This?” Kellan takes it in his hand.
Oh, my.
“All the time.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. Pretty much every time I get in my car. Pretty much every time I sit down, things get kinda squished. I’m hurting my balls constantly.”
“Really? What does that feel like?”
“Um, really uncomfortable. It’s always a delayed response, too. Which is sort of the worst part. There’s the initial jolt from them getting squished, then there’s a pause, and then a nauseating pain comes on that radiates up into my abdomen. It usually takes a minute or two to subside. How hungry are you?”
I’m still staring at Kellan’s penis as he holds it in his hand. “On a scale of one to ten? About…”
It’s mesmerizing.
“Claire?”
I force my gaze away from Kellan’s lovely penis and up to his eyes. “Oh. About a six-and-a-half or seven.”
“I’m an eight. Maybe a nine.”
Inches. Flaccid. Yum.
“Really?” I ask, staring at it again. “That… hungry…?”
“Getting your brains fucked out by your fiancée, who is the most beautiful, amazing, sexy woman on the planet, will do that to you.” Kellan comes over and kisses me.
I erupt with glee inside. Kellan’s ridiculous exaggerations make me so happy.
Kellan warms up two low-carb ready-meals, grilled chicken and asparagus (I’m beginning to genuinely despise asparagus), and blends a protein shake with a little bit of oats, a spoon of peanut butter, and half a banana with ice.
I take a long drink and it’s heavenly.
“Good?” he asks.
“If it had whipped cream and a cherry on top, it would be dessert.”
“See? Who says healthy food isn’t delicious? Come on.”
Kellan carries a tray of our food and silverware out to the Jacuzzi, which is bubbling and steaming in the cool, damp L.A. night air. The chill makes my nipples hard.
We step down into the hot water, which makes my nipples harden further.
The next thing I know, Kellan’s mouth is on my breast, sucking. His hot tongue is caressing my nipple.
He then sucks and licks the other one.
Then he stops and smiles at me. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”
I’m not sure what to say. I think we were planning to eat but I’ve just forgotten all about it. My oh my.
But two can play at this game.
I take Kellan’s penis in my hand, lean down, and start sucking it. I get it nice and wet, stroke the shaft, and suck the head. In mere seconds it gets hard in my mouth. So I promptly stop, stand upright, and smile. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”
“You are so going to get it.”
“I hope so.”
Kellan hands me my meal and takes up his own.
We settle into the water and eat heartily, washing it down with the scrumptious shake.
The orange lights of the city twinkle at us. Far off to the east is the Hollywood sign. The white letters glow in the night. I can’t believe we can actually see it. It reminds me where we are, that we’re here, in this house, which could easily be in Los Gatos or anywhere else for that matter.
But it’s not.
It’s here, in the Hollywood hills above Los Angeles. The City of Angels. The city of dreams. Some would say the city of broken dreams, given Hollywood’s penchant for chewing people up and spitting them out, for dashing their hopes and dreams all over the sidewalk and completely and totally not giving a crap as it does so.
“What’s the matter?” Kellan is watching me as he eats.
“Nothing.”
“Claire… Caliree… Come on, tell me.”
“I was just thinking about all the thousands or maybe even millions of people whose dreams didn’t come true. People who came here dreaming of stardom or fame and instead all they got was a drug habit and a crummy little cockroach-infested apartment someplace where there’s always cars and trucks driving by and police helicopters constantly flying overhead all night. Or they end up homeless and living in a tent somewhere out in the trees, hoping the cops won’t come and make them move for the millionth time, or hoping some other homeless people won’t come along and rob them or rape them or kill them.”
“Jesus, Claire.”
“What? I saw a documentary about it. There are a lot of homeless people in L.A. and a lot of them live out in the woods or up in the hills on the sides of the freeway. It’s a mountain lion smorgasbord waiting to happen. How do we know that won’t happen to us? What if we both get addicted to drugs and lose all our money and we both wind up in Van Nuys doing porn and snorting tons of coke or shooting heroin or smoking crack or living in a van down by the river?”
“What river?”
“The Hollywood River.”
“That’s not going to happen to us.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know.”
“How do you know? How do you know this whole entire movie won’t get canceled because it’s just too expensive? Or that you and I won’t get replaced? And we’ll end up in Van Nuys doing porn for fifty bucks a day and we’ll both start drinking and smoking tons of weed and eating handfuls of Valium and Vicodin to numb the pain. And one day someone will offer us coke and we’ll snort it and have really hardcore sex and everyone will be all like, ‘Whoa that was awesome! You guys should do coke before every scene.’ And we’ll be all like, ‘Well, we probably shouldn’t but okay.’ And we’ll spend all our money on coke and we’ll get holes in our nostrils and we’ll turn to pills or needles and the next thing you know we’re under a bridge downtown shooting heroin and O.D.’ing and we end up on the news and everyone’s all like, ‘Oh, man, that sucks.’ But then they all forget about us because we’re just two more forgotten souls who couldn’t make it in Hollywood.”
“Okay, that’s a very detailed and graphic portrayal that I’m sure happens to some people and I’m sure there are people out there right now doing coke and taking three penises up their butt at the same time. Hey, what’s the plural for ‘penis’?”
“Penises.”
“Not ‘peni’? Like, one octopus but two octopi; so why one penis but not two peni?”
“It’s actually ‘octopuses’. Not ‘octopi’.”
“Oh. Well, at any rate, that’s not going to happen to us.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know.”
“How? Nobody who had it happen to them thought it was going to happen. Nobody thinks to themselves, ‘Oh, I know: I’ll go out to Hollywood and be an actor and end up a junkie doing porn in Van Nuys’, which is the porn capital of the world, by the way. Did you know that? I can practically smell the used condoms from here. Speaking of which, did you know L.A. has a smell?”
“It does? Like what?”
“I’m not sure. I’d never smelled it before I came here. I thought I smelled it when we came down for the expo and the meeting at Crow Bar with Aaron and Rami, but I figured it was my imagination. But when we came down the second time and met Sheila and Heather and everyone on the Paramount lot, I smelled it again so I knew it wasn’t my imagination.”
“What does it smell like?”
“I don’t know. I think, maybe… it’s the cars. Maybe it’s the smell of smog. It has a slightly oily or mechanical smell to it. The first time I smelled it I was like, Jeeze Louise antifreeze, what is that?”
“Jeeze Louise antifreeze? Maybe it’s the oc
ean. Or the weed. Plus, there are a lot of eucalyptus trees. And we are pretty much surrounded by the Angeles National Forest. Or maybe it’s a combination of all those things, plus the aroma of restaurants and people cooking, and on a warm day in the summer time, when there is a high-pressure system over the L.A. basin and the air doesn’t move for several days, all those things combine and form the smell you’re describing.”
“Yeah, maybe. Did you know about Van Nuys?”
“Yes, I knew that. Claire, listen to me. We have each other. That’s not going to happen. Besides, we need to focus on what we want. Not on what we don’t want. Plus, we have a plan. Most of those people were just dreamers, hoping to make it one day. They lost sight of what they were here for and let themselves be drawn into a downward spiral. Think about all the people who are successful. People who come here and do make it, do realize their dreams. Yeah, it’s hard work and there’s a certain amount of luck involved but luck is where preparedness meets opportunity. You and I prepared by getting into shape and when the opportunity to read for the movie came, we got lucky, quote-unquote.”
Kellan makes air quotes with his fingers.
“A lot of people don’t do that,” he says. “They don’t come prepared. They don’t do their homework. They don’t have a plan. Their plan is to get discovered. And, sure, sometimes it happens. Pamela Anderson got discovered the day she went to a football game, in Canada, I think, and a cameraman saw her sitting in the crowd and zoomed in on her and they put her face on the jumbotron and the rest is history. But most of the time success comes through a lot of hard work and trial and error and networking. And you and I are different. We didn’t come down here looking for work. We got work so we came down here. Which reminds me, we should probably get to bed. Fun day tomorrow.”
We finish our meal and heed Kellan’s suggestion and go to bed. Naked. We sleep in our new bed for the first time, on our first night in our new house.
We make love, of course.
Kellan’s mouth on my nipples and his penis in my mouth got me going out in the Jacuzzi. So as soon as we’re settled into bed and ready to sleep, I take him in my mouth again and get him nice and hard. I climb on top of him and take him inside me. It takes my breath away. I feel like Berlin should be playing, like in that hot scene from Top Gun.