When I first saw him, he took my breath away. He was gorgeous with hair has black as oil and eyes of ocean blue. When he looked my way I felt my knees buckle, my heart race and my palms sweat.
He approached me, his mega-watt smile sending shivers down my spine. "Hi," he greeted. I returned the greeting, though it was a little more high pitched then I would have liked.
"I'm Jack," he said, extending his hand. I shook it, blushing deeply. Of course I knew who he was. Jack Dawson, movie star. Movie star wasn't accurate. Mega hunk of hotness was more like it. Everything about him screamed success. From his slicked back hair to his perfectly tailored jeans and blazer, he was perfection.
And here I was, a meek nobody wearing thick rimmed glasses at a karaoke bar. Why on Earth was he talking to me?
Not wanting to seem rude, I introduced myself. Again, the high pitched squeaky voice came out. My cheeks burned. Some great first impression I was making.
Jack laughed and took a seat at my table. Out of curiosity I asked him why he was here. He shrugged. "Research," he answered simply. "The next role I'm doing is about being discovered in a place like this."
He turned to look around, checking to see if anyone had noticed him. I stared at my hands. This wasn't real. I had to be fantasizing again.
Jack turned back to face me. "I was here last week too," he says. I looked up at him. "I saw you on stage. The way you handled that Madonna number was amazing. I was wondering if maybe you were free to give a private lesson?" His voice sounded hopeful.
My whole face burned with embarrassment. "I'm sure there are other people, like professionals, that could help you out," I replied slowly and softly. Jack looked crestfallen. "I just do this for fun. I'm not good or anything," I added quickly, not wanting to see the hurt on his face.
Jack nodded knowingly. "True. But you look exactly like the love interest that was described in the script," he said, cupping my chin in his hand. "I could really use someone who looks like her to run lines with seeing as Jolene isn't available until we start shooting."
"Jolene!" Oh boy, the squeaky voice was back again. He couldn't mean Jolene Rainer, actress and model with her own clothing line (of which I was wearing a jacket), perfume, handbag line and baby clothes.
Jack nodded. "You remind me of her. So, would you help me? There's a couple of scenes I could really use some help with."
"Of course I'll help out," I answered. Being told I looked like Jolene Rainer had certainly made my night a hell of a lot better.
Jack broke into a grin. "Fantastic!" he cried. He pulled out a pen and took my hand. He wrote an address down on my palm. "Be here tomorrow night at eight," he said, standing. He kissed my cheek as he left.
Squinting at my hand I could see the address. 84231 Lakeside Drive. I knew where that was. It was in the rich suburb of Kingscliff. I stared at my hand. Should I go? A little voice popped up in my head, warning me. 'Jack should have people that he can do this with,' it said. I agreed. But then on the other hand, how often does a big celebrity come up to you at a karaoke bar and ask you to run lines with them because you look like Jolene Rainer? 'Never,' quipped the voice in my head. Damn, it was right.
Pushing those horrid thoughts aside, I made the executive decision that I was going to go.
The next night I sat in my car outside the address that Jack Dawson had given me. I had been there for about twenty minutes but I couldn't bring myself to go inside. I stared down at my clothes. My short white skirt showed off my tanned legs and my top showed off what little cleavage that I had. I had the same jacket on as last night and my heels were no where near the skyscrapers as what some starlets wear.
I had spent all day debating about wearing contacts and leaving my glasses at home, but Jack had said that I reminded him of the love interest. I started to think maybe he was going to be doing one of these rag to riches stories that contain the plain Jane girlfriend.
Looking at the house, I sighed. I opened the car door and climbed out. I smoothed down my skirt as I made my way to the house. I pressed the doorbell and began to chew my nail, the voice in my head still sending off warning bells.
The door opened and there he stood in all his movie star glory. He ushered me inside, telling me that he had doubts that I would actually turn up. I flashed him the biggest smile I could and told him that I never backed out of anything.
"Excellent. Would you care for a drink?"
I shook my head. I wanted to have my wits about me and I quickly scanned the room for all possible exits should this head south.
With his hand on the small of my back, Jack lead me to the couch. We sat and he showed me a script. It looked real enough. He held it out to me and I took it.
"You'll be reading the part of Amy," he said simply, lighting up a cigarette. I gulped and nodded meekly. Jack placed his hand on my thigh. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine," he said. He proceeded to do some weird hand gesture to compose himself before beginning the scene.
We read about forty pages before we stopped. Jack was really getting into it, using different voices for different characters. It was fun.
Jack touched my thigh again. "OK, we're done," he said, standing, stretching. I dropped the script onto his coffee table and proceeded to thank him for a memorable night. He smiled and offered a hug to which I accepted. Over the course of a couple of hours, I felt more at ease.
"There is one thing I would like to ask you before you go," Jack said releasing me from his embrace. "Yes?" I asked, taking a step back. This was it. This was the moment where I would have to dive out of a window to get away from his religious preaching or murderous rampage.
"I'd like to act out a scene with you, if that's all right."
I relaxed a little. Acting. I could do that. I told him that I could. Jack smiled broadly and took me by my hand, leading me upstairs to his bedroom.
In the middle of the room sat a single chair in front of the large bed. I froze in the doorway, unable to bring myself to enter. Jack stood beside the chair, his fingers hooked on the belt loops of his pants. As if sensing my discomfort he reached out his hand to me. I shook my head, informing him that I wouldn't be sleeping with him. That I wasn't one of his desperate fans that wouldn't wash their hands after he had touched it. To prove my point I showed him the hand where he wrote the address. There was nothing there. Of course, I didn't tell him that I had spent two hours scrubbing my hand attempting to get it off.
Jack smiled. "I don't expect you to jump into bed with me," he said, patting the chair. "But I suspect you'll want to once we get this scene started."
I walked into the room and sat down on the chair, eyeing him carefully. "You sound confident," I mused, watching him close his bedroom door. "I am," he said, turning back to face me, winking.
He walked over to his bedside table, producing a script. "How many of these do you have?" I asked, bewilded. He handed it to me, a smile plastered on his face. I looked down expecting to see Amy and Sam engrossed in some sort of wicked sex. Instead I saw two different names. Martin and Rachel. "What the - ?" I asked, my head snapping up. Jack was gone. I swiveled around, searching for him but he had vanished.
I turned my attention back to the script. I checked the title. 'An Actors Curse'. Sounded promising. I flipped it open and began to read.
It sounded simple enough. Martin, an actor, meets Rachel, a nobody, at a bar. He invites her to his house where they read for a role he was preparing for. He takes her upstairs and has his way with her, dominating in all aspects. Wait a second. I looked around again. No sign of Jack. I flipped the page. Martin leaves Rachel all alone in his bedroom, sitting on a single chair in the center of the room. She is reading.
My eyes blurred. What I was reading was happening to me. I was Rachel. Jack was Martin. And I was screwed. Literally for the next page went into sexually explicit scenes that began with Rachel being tied to the chair.
Wait a minute. I wasn't tired to the chair. Confused, I dropped the script. It had barely hit the floor when Jack appeared, rope in hand and began to bind me to the chair. He started with my hands, tying them together behind my back before looping excess rope through the back of the chair, securing me tightly. To make sure that I couldn't move, he tied my elbows together.
I swore at him as he moved to face me. He tied my feet together the same way he did my wrists. Tightly together then tied the excess to the chair legs. He even looped some rope around my knees, binding them together.
I couldn't move. I struggled. I cursed him. I think I even spat in his direction. Jack just laughed it off. He reached into his pocket to produce a white piece of cloth. "Open wide and say ahhh," he said, chuckling and he thrust the gag into my mouth, securing it behind my head.
I glared at him as the rage inside me bubbled. I tired to kick him in the shin but only succeeded in knocking the chair over. With one swift movement, I was back upright thanks to Jack. "Calm down, precious," he said, running his hands down my arms. He kissed my cheek, dipping his tongue into my ear. I screamed as best I could, pulling at the restraints. Jack laughed softly, moving my hair away from my neck. He kissed it, nipping the tender flesh. His left hand continued to rub my arm while his right hand moved down to my thigh. Slowly, tenderly, almost lovingly, Jack caressed my leg, his hand reaching high up my skirt before retreating back down to my knees.
His touch was soft, romantic in a way, but the manner in which it was happening had me wanting to dive out the window. I pulled at the restraints. Nothing. They weren't budging.
Jack nipped my neck, his left hand leaving my arm and was now pawing at my breast. He slipped his hand inside my top, fondling my tit through my bra. His hand on my thigh continued to caress.
I closed my eyes, a low groan escaping from me. Jack knew exactly what he was doing. He was manipulating my body, playing it to his tune. A glance sideways and I could see his pants straining at the groin as his fulsome erection pulsated against the fabric.
The heat from my own body began to rise. Sensing this, Jack let his hand climb up under my skirt, forcing itself between my bound thighs. His index finger pressed against my panties, which were damp from both sexual tension and sweat. I tired to pull away from his exploring hand. I couldn't. I felt trapped.
His hand between my thighs stopped suddenly, pulling away from me. I groaned with both frustration and joy. Jack released the rope that was around my knees, allowing me some leg movement. Before I knew it, his hand was back between my thigh, teasing me though my sheer panties.
That tingling sensation coursed through my lower abdomen. My breathing became erratic. My chest heaved as his simple touching bought me closer to the edge.
Leaning over me, his mouth pressed against my ear, he whispered, "Come for me, baby. Come for me." How could I not? Throwing my head back, I let the wave of ecstasy wash over me. Jack laughed softly in my ear. "That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he said, undoing the rope from around my elbows.
He released the gag from my mouth. My mouth felt dry, like it was made of cotton. Dazed and confused, I looked up at him. "You knew I would, didn't you?" I asked. Jack nodded.
He released me from my binds and carried me to his bed. He laid me down. "There's something about you," he said. "I knew, from the moment that I saw you, I had to have you." I blushed as Jack moved a stray stand of hair from my eyes.
He reached under my skirt, his fingers touching my hip, sliding beneath my panties. He pulled them down my legs, his hands feeling every muscle. He stood up and unzipped his pants, letting them drop to the floor. He winked at me as I slightly drooled. He removed his shirt, showing off that toned body that had made him a bankable movie star.
He grabbed my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand as he slid into me. I let out a little moan as he stretched me to accommodate his large throbbing shaft. Jack smiled, telling me to look at him. I obeyed. There was something in his eyes that I didn't fully trust.
The rhythm of our bodies quickened, the heat rising. I could feel that familiar tingling feeling rising within my loins. I tired to pull my hands down to claw his back or run through his hair but it was pointless. Jack wasn't going to release me anytime soon.
I felt him come, the warm juices burning deep inside of me. His pulsating cock spewing forth its creamy load. I bucked underneath him as I rode out a second orgasm.
Breathless, I laid still as Jack slid out of me. Never in my life had I experienced two orgasms in such quick succession.
"You know, for a woman who was spitting at me before, you seem awfully content now," Jack quipped, lying beside me, his hand resting on my stomach. I couldn't respond. There were just no words to describe what had happened.
Jack stood up. Propping myself up on my elbows I watched him walk over to the chair in all his naked glory. He bent down and picked up a single rope before returning to the bed.
"Roll over." His command was forceful, his eyes full of tenderness. I did as he asked. He pulled my hands behind my back and began to secure them tightly. He propped a pillow underneath my head and bought me up on my knees. His hand roughly rubbed against my clit, soaking up the juices he and I had left there.
My body stirred back to life. I was tired and sore, but Jack didn't seem too bothered by that. He sank into me with ease, pumping into me with such force that my head hit the beds headboard. He didn't say a word, pulling my hips back to meet his throbbing appendage.
I grunted as I felt him pull out. It was when he pressed his cock against my ass, I found my voice. "No!" I cried. "Don't please. Jack, I've never-"
He back handed me. "Who's Jack?" he demanded, his voice booming. I coward, unsure of what to say. He grabbed me by my hair. "I asked you a question," he snarled.
I began to shake. I turned away from him, determined not to look at him. That's when I saw it. The script. "Martin, please," I begged, tears springing to my eyes. "Please, let me go." His grip on my hair tightened. "Who's Jack?" he asked again.
"No one. I swear. Martin, please."
He let me go and I fell to the bed, sobbing. He grabbed my hips, digging his nails into my flesh. He pressed his cock against my ass and pushed. I heard an animal wail, which surely couldn't have come from me, as he forced his way up my ass.
I cried loudly, unapologetic, as he continued to torment my body. My wrists were red raw from where the rope was digging in, chaffing. I screamed for mercy. I screamed for him to stop. And then I heard it.
Jack and I collapsed on the bed. He patted my shoulder while I struggled to get air. Taking deep gulps, trying to get my usual calm demeanor back, I felt Jack untie me. I rolled over, breathing hard. He looked down at me, the tenderness and warmth returning to his eyes. I licked my lips, panting.
"OK PEOPLE! THAT'S A WRAP!"
I let out a soft chuckle as I sat up, smoothing down my skirt. Jack, who had already wrapped a towel around his waist, twirled my panties around his finger. I snatched them from him, shooting him the best annoyed look I could muster. He smiled, wrapping his arm around me, lovingly.
"Jolene, you were incredible," he said, kissing my temple. "Absolutely incredible."