Taken

by Mia Ford

  “There he is,” I said nervously. “What do I do?”

  Dru lifted the sunglasses to the top of her head and said, “You go over, you give him the card and flash him your tits, just like we planned.”

  “Got it. Give him the card and flash my tits. Wish me luck.”

  I took a long swig of the wine cooler, followed by a deep breath, and started making my way across the dance floor. It seemed to take forever, pushing my way through the crowd. When I finally emerged on the other side of the crowd, I nearly stumbled and fell into Sean’s bodyguard’s thick arms.

  “VIP area, Miss,” he said with a frown that almost made me pee my panties. “Step away.”

  I swallowed the lump that had lodged in my throat and held up the card. He glanced at it for a moment, then I saw his eyes widen when he saw the Playboy bunny logo.

  “I’m Katie Holmes,” I shouted in his ear. “I was a Playboy Playmate. I want to talk to Sean.”

  I hoped it didn’t sound as silly to him as it did to me. I gave him my best smile and stuck out my tits. His eyes immediately went from my face to my tits and lingered there for a moment. He looked at the card again and said, “Hang on.”

  I held my breath as he turned toward the table and handed my card to Sean. This was the closest I’d ever come to seeing Sean Donovan in person, and I was immediately struck at how good looking he was.

  His pictures didn’t do him justice.

  He had dark hair and dark eyes, a Kennedy jawline, and a smile that made me tingle when he looked past the bouncer to check me out. When he gave the bouncer a nod and waved me over, I felt my knees wobble a little; and I didn’t think it was from the shoes.

  “Girls, go dance,” Sean said, shooing the four groupies away. They didn’t argue. They scooted out of the booth and disappeared onto the dancefloor like good little fuck-bots.

  He lifted himself up and held out his hand, directing me to sit in the booth beside him.

  “Mr. Donovan, I’m…”

  “Katie Holmes,” he said with a smile. He let his eyes go around my face and cleavage for a moment. He licked his lips like a hungry animal. “You look so much different in person. What’s it like being married to Tom Cruise?”

  “Oh, no, I’m not the actress,” I said, shaking my head. Jesus, how stupid or drunk was this guy?

  “I’m joking,” he said, giving me a toothy grin. “You must get that a lot.”

  “Oh, yes.” I rolled my eyes. “Mr. Donovan, the reason why I wanted to—“

  “Sean,” he said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Call me Sean. Hang on…”

  He surveyed the empty glasses and bottles on the table, then called out to the bodyguard. “Ron, get us another round of drinks, please. And something for yourself.”

  He turned his attention back to me. His eyes were red, but I didn’t think he was drunk. At least not yet. He put on a smile and said, “So, Katie Holmes, what can I do for you?”

  I leaned in to speak so he could hear me. As my lips neared his ear, I inhaled. He smelled amazing, a mix of sweaty musk and a cologne I didn’t recognize. I could see the thick muscles of his chest and shoulders beneath the fitted black shirt he wore.

  I said, “The reason I wanted to talk to you, Sean, was that I had an idea for a profile for our magazine.”

  “What issue were you in?” he asked. He put his arm on the back of the bench behind me. We were inches away from each other. I could feel the heat coming off his body.

  “What issue? Oh, well, I never made it into the magazine,” I said, putting on a pouty face.

  “So, there are no naked pictures of you on the web for me to pleasure myself to?” His eyebrows flexed. He bit into his bottom lip and gazed at my tits again. “That’s a shame. Maybe you could hook me up with some pics if I gave you my cell number.”

  I blinked at his audacity. I couldn’t believe the set of balls on this guy. I hemmed and hawed for a moment. “Um, sure, my number is on the card. Text me and I’ll send you something.”

  I did my best to give him a sexy look, which was hard because I had no experience looking sexy. I had no intention of sending him nude selfies, but I was sure Dru could find something online I could use. A woman with big tits and red pubes and her face blurred out…

  “Anyway, Sean, I want to do a profile of you for the magazine. Kind of a fly on the wall sort of thing. Follow you around for a few days to see how you live, work, and play; things you do for fun, that sort of thing.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why would you wanna do that?”

  “Well, because I think our readers would find it interesting.”

  He snorted a laugh. “I highly doubt it. You’ll probably end up boring your readers to death. I play football, I get drunk, I go home. Who the fuck wants to read about that?”

  “Lots of people would,” I said. I gazed into his eyes and ran my tongue slowly across my lips. I felt like an utter fool. I sucked at seduction.

  The music changed from the driving dance beat to a slow song: George Michaels’ Careless Whispers.

  “Oh, fuck, I love this song!” Sean grabbed my hand and literally dragged me onto the dance floor.

  “Mr. Donovan… Sean…”

  “Come on!”

  He didn’t give me time to speak as the dancers parted to let us through to the center of the dancefloor. He twirled me around a couple of times, then jerked me into him.

  He put his arm around my waist and pulled me so close it forced the breath from my lungs.

  My breasts heaved against his chest. I could feel the length and thickness of his cock pressing into crotch.

  He put his cheek next to mine and sighed happily in my ear. He ground his cock into me like a teenage boy at a high school dance. I resisted the urge to grind my hips into his. I wanted to seduce him into an interview. Not fuck him on the dance floor.

  He sighed into my ear, “You’re beautiful, Katie Holmes. Even more beautiful that the other one.”

  “Thank you,” I said, doing my best to follow his lead, even though I was born with two left feet. I wasn’t much of a dancer and I had never been held so tightly in all my life.

  I sort of… liked it.

  A lot…

  My brain told me to kick him in the balls and get the heck out of there, but my body was telling my brain to just shut the fuck up and let us have a little fun.

  It felt good being in his strong arms.

  My nipples grew plump against his chest. They ached to be free of the tight bra. They wanted to be squeezed between his fingers… Kissed by his lips.

  I could feel heat building in my twat. It started as a tiny spark the moment he took me into his arms. The tiny spark quickly ignited and spread through my body like wildfire. I could feel the heat rising through my stomach, spreading across my breasts, going up my neck, and burning thoughts of running away from my brain.

  His lips brushed my ear. His hot breath sent a warm shiver down my spine. A warm stream was flowing between my legs. I could feel my juices soaking into my panties. I could smell my tangy scent rising in the air.

  I heard him inhale deeply.

  He could smell my juices, too, just as clearly as a shark could smell blood in the water. He was circling me. He was the predator. I was his prey.

  Hang in there, girl, a little voice in my head whispered.

  If you want to dance with the devil, you must follow to his tune.

  It’s all part of the game.

  Keep playing along.

  You’re doing fine...

  We were dancing in sync now. I put my arms around his neck and rested my cheek on his shoulder. I turned my nose toward his neck and inhaled his scent. His musk was like an aphrodisiac. It made me want to do things to him I’d never done with any man before. It made me want to let him do things to me… anything he wanted… over and over and over again…

  I didn’t think about pushing my hips into his or pressing my lips to his sweaty neck. Both just happene
d. When he felt my lips on his skin, he rubbed his cock against my cunt and sent a series of shockwaves splintering through me.

  I held my breath and pressed my forehead to his shoulder. I was having an orgasm, in public, on the dancefloor, with a man I just met. Who the fuck was I? Oh yeah, I was Katie Holmes…

  He moaned as he felt me shudder against him.

  His cock was getting harder and my pussy was soaking my panties. I could feel the moisture trickling down the inside of my thigh. The practical side of my brain said: you should have worn thicker panties. The fun side, the side that didn’t come out to play very often, said fuck it, baby. Let it flow!

  My breath was gusty on his cheek.

  I could feel his lips at my ear.

  His tongue went around the rim of my ear and down the slope of my neck. His breath was hot on my neck. He was panting like a dog.

  I felt his muscles tense up against me. He dug his fingers into my ass and ground his cock into me faster, with a longer motion so the entire shaft rubbed against my cunt. I heard him moan in my ear. His body quaked. Holy shit. He was having an orgasm. This really was like being back at a high school dance with a horny teenage boy.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tight as he arched himself into me and exploded in his pants. I almost came again myself, the moment was so fucking hot.

  He held me into him until the spasms ended. His breathing in my ear slowed as he struggled to catch his breath.

  I pulled my head back to look him in the eye. When I did, he kissed me softly on the lips. It was a sweet, gentle kiss, full of heat and promise. I didn’t resist. I let him kiss me again, then I kissed him back. Our tongues swirled around inside my mouth.

  As we stood motionless now at the center of the dancefloor, it was as if everyone else had disappeared.

  All I could hear was George Michael in my ears and the feel of my heart beating in my chest. It was one of those rare moments a girl never forgets.

  “Do you want to get out of here?” he asked breathlessly. His lips were at my ear again, his words sending shivers down my spine. “We can go back to my place and fuck all night long, just you and me.”

  His voice jarred me back to reality. I remembered that we were not alone. Nor was I the kind of girl to fall under a hot guy’s spell and fuck him the first night we meet. Grinding on the dancefloor was one thing. Fucking all night long was another. I shook my head and licked my lips, which were covered with his salty taste.

  “Um, I have a friend waiting on me,” I said, putting him at arm’s length. I squeezed my thighs together to keep myself from dripping on the floor. I felt drunk, dreamy-eyed, even though I’d had very little to drink. I cleared my throat and stepped away from him. I glanced down at the large wet spot on the front of his jeans.

  He gave me a pouty face. “A boyfriend?”

  “What? No, a coworker.” I looked around the room for Dru. She was still at the bar where I’d left her, talking intimately with a woman dressed similarly to herself. Dru was obviously no slouch in the one-night-stand department.

  “Let’s go back to my place,” he said, stepping close and pulling me into him again. “I want to taste that pussy I’ve been smelling. And my cock needs cleaning off. Can we borrow your tongue?”

  He grinned as he cupped my ass cheeks in his strong hands and lifted my feet off the floor. He tried to kiss me again, but I put my elbows in his chest and pushed hard.

  “No, I’m sorry,” I said, pushing him away and taking a clumsy step backward. “That’s not what I came here for.”

  He held out his hands and glanced down at the dark cum stain on the front of his pants. “Come on Katie Holmes. You’re not going to leave me like this, are you?”

  I stared at his damp crotch for a moment, then shook my head and backed away, as if he was a monster and I was in fear for my life.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “This was a mistake.”

  “What? Hey, wait!”

  I pushed my way through the crowd and found Dru still at the bar. She was making out with the girl I’d seen her talking with. She had her hand deep inside the front of the girl’s pants. She didn’t take her hand out when she saw me coming.

  “I’m going home,” I said in a panic.

  Dru frowned at me. “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “You stay, have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “You sure?” Dru asked. Her hand was still working inside the girl’s cunt. The girl was resting her forehead against Dru’s shoulder with her eyes closed. She was moaning softly.

  “I’m sure. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

  I didn’t look back toward the VIP area, so I didn’t know if Sean was watching or not.

  I just knew that I had blown the only chance I would ever have of interviewing – and possibly sleeping with -- Sean Donovan.

  Sean

  I suddenly knew how Prince Charming must have felt watching Cinderella run away from the ball.

  Only I wasn’t left on the palace steps holding a glass slipper with a tear in my eye.

  I was left standing in the middle of the crowded dance floor with a big cum stain on my pants and a confused look on my face.

  I shook my head. I had never fucked a Playboy Playmate that wasn’t a basket case, and Katie Holmes was no different.

  I’d stick with Victoria’s Secret models.

  They weren’t as adventurous in bed and hated it when you got jizz on them, but at least they weren’t fucking nuts.

  I tugged out my shirt tail to help cover the cum spot on my jeans and pushed my way through the crowd to get back to the VIP booth. I stood next to Ron, the bouncer who watched over the VIP section, and watched a waitress clear away the empties and set out fresh drinks.

  The four blonde bimbos had retaken their seats in the booth. They had left room for me in the middle. They were lined up like circus chimps, preening their hair, checking their makeup in small mirrors, taking selfies and posting them online.

  When they saw me emerge from the dancefloor, they smiled and licked their lips. I turned my back so they couldn’t see the cum stain because I knew it would cause an argument over who was going to lick my cock clean.

  “I think I’ll go home, Ron,” I said, blowing out a tired breath. I rubbed my eyes and yawned. I suddenly felt very tired. “Can you have my car brought around to VIP exit?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ron tapped the earpiece lodged in his right ear and ordered the valet to bring my Porsche around to the back door where crowds were not allowed to gather.

  I took out the wad of cash I kept in my back pocket and peeled off three one-hundred-dollar bills and tucked them into the front pocket of his jacket.

  “You should play football, Ron,” I said, patting his thick chest.

  “So you keep saying,” he said with a smile.

  “Just put those drinks on my tab and let the girls order what they want,” I said, waving a hand at the table. “I’ll see you later.”

  As I started to walk away, he tapped me on the shoulder.

  “Mr. Donovan, do you want this?”

  I looked back to find him holding a business card between two thick fingers. There was a Playboy logo on the card.

  “Women are funny creatures, aren’t they,” he said, sliding the card into my shirt pocket and giving my chest a pat. “Have a good night, Mr. Donovan.”

  “You, too, Ron,” I said with a smile. “You, too.”

  Kate

  “So, what the fuck happened last night?” Dru asked, leaning against my office door with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a half-eaten Bear Claw in the other.

  Dru didn’t weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet, yet she ate like a Sumo wrestler. She said it was her high-octane-lesbian metabolism… although I don’t really think there is such a thing.

  I looked up from my laptop and rolled my eyes. “Well, I guess the disguise worked because he practically humped me right in the
middle of the dancefloor. But in the end, it was a bust.”

  I didn’t dare mention that we had basically masturbated one another on the dance floor. That was a fun fact that I would take to my grave.

  Dru, on the other hand, reveled in telling tall tales of her nightly sexual exploits. She held a finger under her nose and took a deep whiff.

  “Oh well, at least I had the common decency to fingerfuck a girl at the bar rather than try to fuck her on the dancefloor. Which would not have been out of the question, I might add.”

  “God, you’re a slut,” I said, snorting a laugh. “Yeah, who was that girl?”

  Dru brought the cup to her lips and shrugged. “Beats me. Never seen her before in my life.”

  “And she let you finger her in public?”

  “We weren’t in public,” she said, smacking her lips. “We were in a bar. And when a beautiful lipstick lesbian walks up to you and asks you to give her a hand, it’s impolite to refuse.”

  “God, you really are just like a man,” I said, shaking my head.

  She smiled, but didn’t disagree. “So, what happened with Sean Donovan?”

  I sighed as I told the story. “I introduced myself and gave him the card. We chatted for a minute. Then a slow song that he liked came on so he dragged me onto the dance floor. A minute later he’s shoving his tongue down my throat, clutching my ass, and grinding his cock into my crotch.”

  “Sounds like fun,” she said. “I mean, if you like cocks.”

  “I don’t have a problem with cocks,” I said, trying to sound much hipper than I really was. “Then he asked me to go back to his place to have sex. I mean, I’d known the guy ten minutes, Dru. There was no way I was going to go home with him. I mean, do women really do that? Meet a celebrity and have sex with him an hour later.”

  I felt a little hypocritical for even asking the question, but in my mind Katie Holmes was the skank that blew a gasket on the dancefloor with Sean Donovan, not me, not good girl Kate Asher, upstanding citizen and retroactive virgin (my twat was growing back together due to lack of use).

  “A lot of girls would have fucked him right there on the dancefloor,” Dru said. “If I was hanging out with Jennifer Lawrence and she wanted me to go down on her in the middle of Times Square during rush hour on live TV, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”