Hard Times in Hollywood Pt. 02

(This is the second part of an ongoing story. I recommend reading part one first, which you can find in my profile.)

"Tom, listen: if you want to be in that kids movie we can't have you in the tabloids all the time. We're gonna have to change your image a bit, make you look a little more family friendly. Okay?"

"What?" I frown at the tropical fish in my full-wall aquarium, as Penelope's voice filters through the phone.

"I'm *friendly*. What the hell?"

"Yeah you're *too* friendly, that's the problem," she sighs. "Tom there's no way they're gonna cast you when you're in the tabloids every other week for sleeping around. If you could just lay low for awhile, do some charity work..."

"It's not *that* often," I huff, plopping into my armchair. "It's just...every once in awhile. And it's not my fault, really -- it just kind of happens. And then they go and blow everything way out of proportion. It's not like the other leading guys aren't getting around, it's just--"

"It's just you that keeps getting caught, huh? You think it doesn't happen very often? Well, let's see...last week they had you on the front page of Stargaze for sleeping with that waitress, and the week before there was a center spread in PopPulse about the dental assistant that went down on you. And before *that*, Fame Frame was already running a story about the rumors of your partying in Morocco. And that's just from this month; if you wanna look at last month, they were saying that..."

I shake my head as Penelope runs down the list of my recent transgressions. She's a good agent, she keeps me in movies and out of trouble, for the most part, but I'm in no particular mood to hear this lecture again.

She just doesn't get it -- shit's tough when every woman finds you irresistible.

No, really.

She's still going on and on when a sudden noise tears my attention away. My maid Leti's just walked into the room, holding a hand vacuum and cleaning the furniture. She's dressed scandalously in skimpy black lace lingerie, dolled up like she's doing a photoshoot, her hair shining in long silken dark waves.

She looks damn good but that doesn't stop me from frowning and pointing at the phone, at her vacuum, shaking my head emphatically and signaling for her to switch it off. She puts her hand on her hip and gives me a dramatic eyeroll, but thankfully powers it down. Her g-string is of the high-hipped variety, and her hand there just draws my attention to it all the more.

I'm ruminating on the garment when Penelope's voice interrupts.

"Tom?"

"Uhhh...yeah, what? Sorry, couldn't hear, maid was vacuuming."

There's a long-suffering sigh on the other end of the line. "I said what charities would you want to work with? There's a lot we can pick from; we might want to do one you feel a personal connection to, so that way we could make it look better and you wouldn't have to fake it or anything..."

I'm only half-listening as Leti flounces over to the bookshelf and grabs a feather duster. She's a small but leggy latin beauty, her slender body trim and toned with a nice little tush atop her tanned thighs. We've got a good thing going: she cleans the house and does my shopping and whatever else I need. In exchange I pay her well, spoil her with makeup, lingerie and jewelry, and rail her all over the house whenever the mood catches.

Which, with her appetite, is quite often. What can I say, the girl needs dick and a lot of it -- how was I supposed to know I was hiring a nympho?

"Well Tom?"

"Umm, sorry, what?"

"Jesus Christ, I swear to God...which of those would you want to work with?"

"Uhhh...could you repeat them again? I'm really sorry, the maid's just being loud."

Leti scowls as she approaches with the duster. Her English isn't really all there yet, but she's got enough to know when I'm bullshitting or blaming something stupid on her. She gives me a level look, steps in front and turns around, bending low over the coffee table.

I have to hide my intake of breath as her sweet little caramel-colored ass just blooms right before me, blossoming like a beautiful flower, the black lace of her lingerie barely enough to cover her most intimate bits. She starts to dust, feigning innocence even as she arches her back, her delectable little buns spreading and making my mouth water.

I'm hypnotized for several long seconds, when suddenly I realize it's been quiet on the other end of the line for way too long.

"...Uhhh, how about we do one for like, the alcoholics?" I stammer, hoping it's the right thing to say.

It's not.

"What the ff...the alcoholics?? Tom we're talking about *kids* charities, I didn't *say* one for alcoholics! Child alcoholics? I don't even know if that shit exists! Where the hell is your mind today? Did you party again last night??"

Leti's started to subtly sway her ass, knowing full well what she's doing. My girth strains against my shorts as she gets my blood going. I give her a swat on the rear in spite of it, scowling and shaking my head as she yelps and turns, pouting.

"No, no I didn't party. It's just...kinda loud here today, that's all. Sorry again, Pen. Look let's do...I don't know, I can go play sports with kids who are sick, or something like that. People like that sorta stuff, don't they? It'll be fun I bet. Can you find something like that?"

"You know, sometimes talking to you feels like talking to my nephew. And he's four. Anyways...yeah, there's a few like that. We can find one, I'm sure. I'll reach out. Seriously though, I think we should meet today; we gotta talk more about this and you seem to be having trouble focusing. If we can just sit down for an hour I'm sure we can..."

I'm distracted again by something tickling the side of my head, and when I turn I get a facefull of Leti's duster. 'Stop,' I mouth silently, sputtering as I swat it away and grimace in annoyance. She gives me a mischievous smile -- the type that usually means she's looking to get fucked.

"Does that sound good?"

"...Uhhh...yeah that, that sounds great," I say, silently cursing, wishing I knew what I was agreeing to.

Leti slides into my lap, perching on my thigh and eyeing me expectantly, wrapping her arms around my neck. I shake my head again and it only seems to embolden her; she leans in and nibbles at my ear, purring against me, making me tingle.

"Lo necesito, señor..."

My Spanish still sucks, but I've learned *that* phrase at least, on account of her saying it to me all the damn time.

"What, Tom?"

"Umm, err...nothing."

"Okay...well, one more thing. We finally got the script for *Tropic Justice 7*; they said they wrote the part just for you, so hopefully that doesn't mean you're gonna spend half the movie whoring around.

"Hah hah."

I try to sound sarcastic but it's hard, what with Leti slithering between my legs and tugging at my shorts, mouthing sexy things to me in Spanish. I reach out but she's too quick, and suddenly she's got my cock out, already at full fucking mast and thicker than her fingers can grip. She blows a spit bubble and rubs her mouth around the head, staring me down.

Suddenly I don't feel much like stopping her.

"...and let me know once you've looked it over, okay?"

"...Uh-huh."

My throat's gone dry as a perfect pair of Latin lips kiss their way along my thick shaft, her glistening pink tongue teasing me with tiny flicks. This is the second time she's had her mouth on me today, and fuck it always feels incredible.

"...And Tom I want you to think seriously about what I said. We need to work on...keeping it in your pants more. I don't want you to hurt your career because of it."

"I'll...t-try and do that," I falter as Leti bats her big brown eyes, more and more of my length disappearing down her throat.

"Okay, great. See to you later."

The call ends and I groan, grabbing Leti by the hair even before the phone hits the floor, pulling her farther down onto me, her eyes going unfocused as she gives a lusty gag.

"God you're annoying," I grin. "Come here."

*

I'm just stepping onstage to accept my Academy Award when my phone goes off. I look down in confusion, struggling to read the garbled message, and it's then that I realize I'm not wearing any clothes. The whole audience starts to laugh, and I trip on the steps as I struggle to cover myself, pitching face-first into the front row.

I wake with a start, sprawled out on the couch, phone buzzing in my hand, shorts around my ankles. I must've drifted off after Leti left to go shopping.

Groggily, I take a look at my phone.

'Where the hell are you???' the text reads.

Oh fuck. Penelope. What did I agree to earlier?

I swipe through -- there's multiple missed messages and calls.

'Tom what's going on?'

'Hello? Is everything okay?'

'You said you'd be here at 3.'

I check the time -- 3:45. Fuck.

Scrambling up, I nearly trip over myself as I struggle to get dressed and race out the front door.

*

"Pen I'm really, *really* sorry. Time just got away from me...you know I wouldn't stand you up on purpose."

Penelope's seated behind her desk, jaw tight as she rubs her temples, her wavy hair tied up in a loose bun. She's a cute petite redhead, her dark round-framed glasses making her look a little mousy on first glance, though once you get to know her she's anything but. Usually she's well put together, but today she's looking kind of frazzled and I know it's my fault. I can't help but feel guilty.

"Tom...working with you, sometimes it's just..."

She shakes her head, glaring at me. "You're too damn much to deal with sometimes. Why couldn't I have landed an older, more established star? Why did I have to choose to represent some idiot playboy, huh?"

"...Because we make a great team, and we're gonna win an Oscar one day?" I offer with a cheesy grin, hoping to break the tension.

"Only if you can keep your dick in your pants," she says with a withering glare. "And that better not be why you're late again."

I bite my tongue.

"No, I was...honestly? I fell asleep. Okay? It's been a long week."

Penelope scoffs in disgust, throwing up her hands.

"A long week? You think *you've* had a long week? Tom I spend every fucking day covering for your ass and trying to fix your messes, and I can't even get you to show up on time to one simple meeting! It's...god dammit!"

She slaps her desk and covers her face, at her wit's end.

Shit.

"...Pen, I'm...listen I'm really sorry, okay? I'll make it up to you -- I'm gonna do better. You're the best agent, I couldn't ask for anyone better. We'll go ahead and do the charity thing, yeah?"

She takes a long shuddering breath as she stands and paces towards the window, crossing her arms and looking out over downtown LA, orange-lit in the late afternoon light.

"You know what my friends always ask?" she carries on as if I hadn't spoken.

"They're always asking me, *Penny, what's it like? Did you fuck him yet? He fucks everyone, he must've fucked you*."

Her head whips around, a wild, angry look in her hazel eyes I've never seen before.

"And how the hell am I supposed to answer that, huh? *No girls, sorry. He fucks literally everyone else except me. I just get fucked over*."

She takes a few unsteady steps towards me, her fists balled at her sides, shaking.

"Pen, are you...okay?" I ask. She looks like she's about to have a breakdown; she's starting to scare me.

"No Tom, I'm not. I'm not okay. I'm not okay because my talent is a big stupid, sexy idiot with no self control, and I...and it just gets me so--"

It happens quick: one second she's standing there, staring like she wants to kill me. The next, she's launched herself on top of me, tearing at my shirt, her mouth on mine, hot and desperate, her hips pushing needily against me.

"Holy shit Pen, wha--"

"Just shut up, you bastard," she gasps. "Just shut the fuck up and fuck me."

She writhes like a woman possessed, yanking at my collar, sucking and biting at my neck as she calls me every curse word imaginable. I'm so shocked I can barely think what to do, but my hands are already moving with a mind of their own, gripping her nice little ass and pulling her against me.

She'd always been firmly on my 'do not fuck' list, on account of her being my agent, but what the hell am I supposed to do with her now, climbing all over me like a cock-crazed banshee?

"Godammit Tom," she gasps, clawing at my clothes, panting heavily. "God fucking dammit. Just give it to me, okay? I fucking...I fucking need it, okay??"

She kisses me hard on the mouth like she hates me, pulling at my belt and making an animalistic purr in her throat. The whole thing's wild and inappropriate and has me caught completely off guard, but holy shit is it hard not to get caught up in the moment as I feel myself grow more and more heated.

"Come on you fucker," she growls as she pulls me out of my briefs, moaning as her hand wraps around it. I'm almost the size of her forearm, and she grits her teeth as she starts to pump it with firm strokes, lost in a wild, angry lust.

"Come on Tom, fuck me with it. It's the most famous dick in Hollywood and everyone gets it, everyone but me. Well fuck that, you owe me. You owe me good."

She lets out a lewd groan, and holy shit I've had enough. I lift her with a grunt, walking us to her desk and settling her atop it, hiking up her skirt and tearing down her frilly pink panties, her creamy skin soft beneath my palms.

"Yeah, that's it, come on. Give it to me good, Tom. Fucker. Give it to me hard."

She tries to wrap her legs around my waist but I'm done with her shit, with her name calling. With a rough grip I turn her over, bending her over her own desk, her plump pale little ass jiggling before me.

"Oof...mmm that's it, come on. Come on you bastard, come on and--"

She breaks off in a loud cry as I smack her on the rear, leaving a red handprint painted across her backside. My blood is up and I'm tired of being bossed around; I pin her down by the neck and squeeze one of her pert little asscheeks, spreading her just enough to stuff my thickness in as far as it'll go.

"That's what you need, Pen?" I grunt as her insides give way, as her little body wraps itself around me. "That's what you fucking need?"

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," she whines, pushing back against me. "Yes that's what I...ahh!"

She's impossibly tight, her pussy a perfect little sheath as I push in deep and give her my all, her walls hugging, squeezing me. I take hold of her bun and pull, craning her backwards as I begin to pound, rutting her good against the big wooden desk, the legs scraping loudly against the floor. Her office fills with the sounds of our rough primal coupling, her lusty moans mingling with my labored breathing and the wet slapping of flesh.

"You want it hard, huh Pen? I'll show you hard."

I hammer the shit out of her, bouncing her body between myself and the desk, pumping her little cunt again and again as she wails wordlessly, her hand toying with herself between her legs. She may have been the one who was angry at first but she's got me more than riled up now, and I fuck her as hard as I've ever fucked anyone. I smack her ass again out of reflex, bending one of her legs up onto the desk for a better angle, her soft body so pliable in my hands.

She cries out again and again and then she's hissing, practically foaming at the mouth, her whole body tensing up like a cat who's about to pounce. Then with a scream she starts to cum, shaking on my cock over and over, her whole body flushing as she rides out her orgasm.

The whole experience is a brief exercise in abject hedonism, and I'm feeling like a madman at the unexpected rough fuck. As soon as she finishes I'm pushing her down to the floor, stroking myself to climax right before her reddened face.

"Yea yea yea, come on, come on and give it to me," she pants, glasses askew, her hair a mess.

I groan and grunt and do just as she's asked, painting her face and frames and the tops of her breasts with my warm goo, spraying her with load after generous load of my hot sticky seed. I cum and cum and then I just stand there, shuddering, cock in-hand as the two of us stop and stare at one another.

Slowly the feral look leaves Penelope's eyes, replaced by a shocked expression that I'm sure is mirrored by my own.

"Umm..."

She chuckles nervously, pulling off her cum-stained glasses and looking them over.

"I...wow. Umm. Sorry Tom. I don't know what happened I just got so...maybe that wasn't a good idea."

"...Yeah. I know. I mean Pen, I like you but you're my agent and all, I don't know if we should..."

"Yeah," she chuckles. "Whew. Well. I guess you were right, I guess it does just kinda happen sometimes. Anyway...I'm glad we got that out of the way. Maybe we shouldn't...talk about this again."

"Yeah."

"Okay. Well. Let's get on to the charity thing--"

The door to Penelope's office suddenly bursts open, her pretty young assistant Alina stumbling into the room with a worried expression.

"Ms. Harker, is everything okay? I thought I heard--"

She stops and stares, mesmerized by my big drooling dick, unable to tear her eyes away.

"Aw shit," Penelope mutters, cum still splattered across her face.

God fucking dammit.

Not again.