Jackman Breaks Loose Ch. 03byshandal©
Pressure builds, and he bolts. Where can he find some peace and quiet, and someone who doesn't know who he is?
Hugh Jackman finds an oasis of calm and hot sex, away from the spotlight.
This is a fantasy, and in no way reflects a real incident, nor do I wish to cause concern or upset to Mr Jackman and his family in anyway with this erotic story.
However if you are the sexiest man alive, you must realise you are the centre of many a persons erotic dreams.
They walked across the field hand in hand, the dog now in its harness, leading her, acting as her eyes. The early morning dew under foot wet the bottom of their jeans, and little puffs could be seen escaping from their mouths as their hot breath met the cold morning air.
All was peaceful and quiet, except for the birdsong and the rustle of the trees around them. Hugh felt relaxed and calm, and looking around at the rustic scene, he realised that this was the first time in ages he had walked outside without being followed by Paparazzi or fans.
Last night had been fantastic, the sex, the letting go, being accepted for being himself by Grace, who didn't know who he was, but just enjoyed him and his body, giving herself for pleasures sake. The whole experience was allowing him to get back in touch with himself, the person he thought he had lost.
Dave the mechanic had agreed to pick up the car this morning and check it out, and he had the day ahead to enjoy, determined to just kick back and see what happens, to take advantage of being invisible for just one more day.
Arriving back at the little cottage, he watched as Grace cooked breakfast, her deft fingers making light work of frying up the sausages and bacon, confident without her sight in her little kitchen, she knew where everything was, and moved around the space as if she could see. Although his diet normally did not include fried food, his mouth watered at the smell of the sizzling meat, and he looked forward to this small slip from his normal discipline with relish.
Sitting opposite each other eating at the small table, he asked her about her life, her friends, and if she ever got lonely living in the cottage, isolated as she was.
"Lonely, no of course not. I have my friends spread around the world. The wonder of the internet! I use an adapted computer, and the type is read out to me by screen reader technology."
Hugh listened intently as she explained how she adapted to modern life, living by herself, unable to see.
"I have a Braille printer, and my publisher sends me emails which I can either print out and read, or listen to them on my computer. The keyboard is tactile, and there is always the phone." Smiling, she indicated to the food on the plate in front of her. "My friend Sarah picks me up once a week to go shopping in Norwich, and if I need stuff between visits I can go online and order for delivery the same as everyone else."
Getting up and starting to clear the table, she continued, "There are local quizzes down the pub, and I'm part of a four member quiz team. That's every Wednesday, and also Salsa on Friday nights at the local community centre. So you see I'm not as isolated as you like to think."
Following her into the kitchen, his hands carrying his plate, he watched as hers went straight to the faucet and turned on the water in the sink. Always the actor, he noted her movements and tucked them into that part of his brain to use as reference for a later date.
"Grace, you're a remarkable woman, I would love to read some of your work."
"If you go into my study, you'll find my books on the shelf. Be my guest."
Wandering through the cottage he came to a closed door, and opening it found a small room, filled with a desk, a computer taking up most of it, shelves of books behind, the sweet smell of lavender permeating the air from the potpourri on the windowsill. It was the smell he would always associate with Grace and this lost weekend from now on. It was her scent, light and sweet and natural. Just like her.
Going through the books he found them to be a mix of Braille and type, and picking up a racy normal type book, Grace's name in black letters under the picture of a woman dishevelled and looking as if she had been raped on the cover, he turned around and went back into the small sitting room, finding the comfortable chair, and settling down to read.
It was an hour later when he heard the doorbell ring, and Graces voice inviting Dave the mechanic to come in.
Looking up, suddenly scared of being discovered and recognised, this small interlude of peace and quiet to be wrecked, he waited for the denouncement to come from the heavy set man in overalls entering the sitting room.
"Hi I'm Dave, where's the keys. I'll go check out the car, see if I can fix it on the roadside. If not, I'll tow it to my garage, take a look and phone with the results."
Hugh stood up, fishing into his jeans pocket for the keys. There was not a glimmer of recognition on the face of the mechanic, and inside he castigated himself for being the big Hollywood star, expecting everyone to know him, when in reality, here in the sticks of Norfolk, he was just another tourist, car broken down, needing help.
Once Dave had left he went into the small office where Grace sat at her computer, typing, a radio playing, Liam Gallagher and Oasis singing 'Don't Look Back in Anger', the guitar riff echoing around the room, as Grace hummed along.
Walking behind her, he leaned down, his hands resting on her slim shoulders, before sliding down, under the neck of her scooped neck top and her bra, to cup her breasts, the nipples growing hard against the palms of his hands. Gently squeezing the two mounds, he watched as she typed, the letters appearing on the screen in front of him, the synthesised voice reading out the words, almost lost by the sound of the music.
Pinching her nipples, he watched as she slowed her typing, until she stopped, her head leaning back into his belly, her hands resting on the keyboard now forgotten as she absorbed the feelings assaulting her.
Moving his hands, he lifted them until they held the cotton material of her top, along with her bra straps, and pulled it down her arms and torso, revealing her breasts, the stretched top holding her arms down at her sides, her small round globes, pert and high, exposed above the yellow cotton. Pinching and twisting the now hard buds, he heard her breath quicken, as he played with her, the sensitive nerve endings becoming even more responsive with each squeeze of his thumbs and fingers.
Pulling her chair back, he moved to stand in front of her, before lowering himself to his knees, settling between her open thighs, and leaning forward took a nipple into the warm, wet heat of his mouth, whilst continuing his attention to her other with his fingers. Teeth bit gently, whilst his fingers pinched, and her gasp and movements became more intense, her hands raising up to hold his head to her breast, the fingers running through his thick hair.
Working her he felt elated, her response was causing kinetic movement to her body, her thighs closed around his ribs as she used his torso to rub her crutch against, causing friction against her clit with the fabric of her jeans. Her body arching back into the chair, he could hear her panting, and he knew she was close to coming.
Lathering the tight bud in his mouth, he then changed breasts, sucking the pebble hard tip deep inside his mouth before worrying it with his teeth, his other hand reaching to undo the fastening of her jeans. Pulling down the blue denim so that it gave enough space to place his hand he burrowed past her pants and pushing two fingers inside the damp tight hole, rubbed against the inner wall, slick and wet, finding the spot that made her yelp, whilst his thumb rubbed against the hard clit, slick with her juices. "There, Oh God, just there. Yesssss....." and within moments he felt the muscles inside her vibrate as her orgasm pulled at his fingers, trying to suck them in deeper and deeper, rippling and growing wetter as her body flew with pleasure.
Sitting back on his heels, he watched as she lay slumped in her chair, replete and relaxed, her golden hair a cloud around her sweet face, her sightless grey eyes staring off into her own minds eye, a small smile upon her lips.
"Such a nice gift, thank you Hugh."
Leaning against her leg, his arm and hand across her belly, he asked her, "Do you have a boyfriend? Someone you see regularly?"
"No. No boyfriend, do you want to tell me about your wife?"
"Not really. Just that we've been together now for fourteen years, and that I love her very much." Running the back of his fingers over the still exposed nipple on her left breast, he continued, "My life is complicated, and I have a lot of people I'm responsible for. Work has kind of taken on the speed of a runaway train, and I can't seem to get off."
"Don't you enjoy it anymore? Your job?"
"I love my job, I enjoy my work, it's everything else that goes with it that I'm finding difficult at the moment. The responsibility and drain on my time doesn't allow me the peace and solitude I'm finding right now with you."
"Maybe that's all you need, a small space to recharge, to find your peace, and then go back to face whatever you need to face."
Thinking about what she had said, he nodded, his eyebrows rising up on his forehead, not remembering that she couldn't see such a small gesture. He was so used to using his body language to convey thought and emotion, it being as intrinsic as using his voice, that she missed his agreement to her empathetic statement.
Dave came back with his car, the afternoon almost gone. He had been reading quietly, enjoying the racy book, interrupted only by a short walk with Grace and her seeing eye dog in the fields, and a lunch of a mushroom omelette, which he made for them both, showing off his culinary skills.
"It was a blockage in the fuel pipe, nothing major, how would you like to pay?"
"Credit card OK?"
Watching as the man took his credit card details, and wrote the receipt, Hugh watched to see if his name was recognised, but Dave didn't seem to, just gave him the receipt and said goodbye.
Walking back to the office, he asked Grace. "I know I've probably overstayed my welcome, and I've missed the soccer match I was going to, but would it be alright if I stayed one more night?"
Smiling up in his direction, she whispered back, "Of course, I would love to return the sweet and pleasurable gift you gave me this morning." Causing a tingle to run up his spine, and getting up, she held out her hand in the direction of where he stood, waiting for him to take it and her up to the lavender filled bedroom, and her gift of sensual distraction.