Hollywood After Dark Ch. 06

Her pace slowing, Kirsten finally whimpered slightly as her orgasm came to an end, her arms extended out to her sides as she gripped the drapes in an attempt to stay up and maintain her balance. Giving her pussy one final lick, I snatched up all of the last drops of her sweet dew and slowly pulled my face from between her ass.

Catching my breath, I used my hand to wipe my face of any excess juice my tongue might have missed. Sitting down on my ass, I propped myself up with my arms as I watched Kirsten regain her breath, her fingers tightly gripping the curtains so hard that I was afraid they would fall off. Kirsten's slowly let go of them, her arms falling limply to her sides as she bent over, her blonde hair covering her face as she turned around to face me, her cute ass pressed against the window sill.

"Eliza, that was the best EVER!" she said with a weak and tired smile. "I've never cum so much in my life,"

I smiled back at her, seductively tracing my tongue around my lips. "Good. Because you're going to need all the experience you can get in a few hours,"

My comments seemed to wake Kirsten from a trance like orgasmic state. "Oh yeah, I totally forgot,"

Standing up, I took her hand and lifted her off the window sill. Her breasts jiggled against the fabric of the corset.

"Well, I think you are good for the next few hours or so. But now we really need to get going,"

Kirsten pushed her breasts back into the top. "Ok. Just give me a few minutes to pack and change. I can't very well into the airport dressed like this,"

"No, you'll give all those airport screeners something to do, and right now we can't afford the time for what I'm sure would be a full 'cavity search'. GO get ready, but hurry up. Our plane leaves in about two hours,"

Kirsten did a mock military salute at me, touching her finger to her forehead. I watched as she bounded up the stairs to grab some things. Yes, this will work out just fine, I thought to myself.

PETTY'S STORY:

I am an addict. Since my encounter recently with Britney Spears and her assistant, I have come to accept this fact about myself. At first I denied it, writing it off as just taking advantage of opportune situations. But in the past few days, the truth has become undeniable to me.

What I crave more than anything is sex. Sex with women, sex with men, sex with anyone. While waiting in an elevator to go to the second floor of a mall, I found myself obsessing and growing aroused by a man riding in the elevator with me. Before I knew what had hit me, I had hit the emergency stop and was on top of him, my skirt hiked up around my waist and the all too willing guy plunging his cock deep into my craving pussy. After he came in me, no more than five minutes later, this stranger simply smirked at me and pulled his pants up, fastening them just in time as the elevator started up again and a whole crowd of people stepped on.

Women too, aren't exactly free from my cravings. When I walk down the street, I find myself mentally undressing them as they pass, making "mistakes" and accidentally tripping into their chest or ass, feeling it up casually with my hand, just for the thrill of it. It's something I can't stop doing it seems, sex always racing through my mind at the most unusual moments. Every time I even think about my beach encounter with Britney, I have to desperately fight off the urge to go some place quiet and masturbate myself to orgasm.

The drugs aren't helping things either. Like the sex, at first I was in denial about my craving and need for them, especially the cocaine, but more and more I find myself getting high and doing anything I can to keep that feeling up. I sniff a little right when I wake up, and some before I go to sleep, letting the pleasant numbness wire me awake until I pass out asleep in my bed with whomever I might have happened to drag home with me that night. The feeling, the rush, is indescribable, so much so that it has become sadly (and admittedly a little scarily) who I am. Cutting a hole in one of my necklaces, I always keep it ready and full with the coke for in case the opportunity strikes.

Sex and drugs, that's all that is ever on my mind. I am an addict and I want them both bad - sex to replace the feelings I have when I'm not high, and the drugs for when I'm not thinking or having sex. Part of my mind is screaming at me, telling me to stop, but I feel like a prisoner and robot inside my own body, my impulses taking advantage of me whenever they choose.

Which brings me to today. After smoking a very nice joint and zoning out on the couch to watch my video on MTV, my worn out body begging for any kind of rest, the phone rang. Struggling amongst the pile of discarded clothes and half dirty dishes that littered my living room floor to find it, I finally picked it up on the fifth ring.

"Hello?"

"Petty, hey, it's Rick Dugans,"

Rick was my agent. Since I signed with Antamount, they had advised me to get an agent immediately, just to handle my day to day affairs. And strangle enough, Rick had given me a call on my cell phone just a few minutes after leaving my meeting at Antamount. I would have thought it a little odd, had I not been buzzing at the time.

He was a decent guy, if a bit of a slimeball, the equivalent of an ambulance chaser in the talent world. Rick ran Spin It records on the side, but mostly spent his time managing musicians like me. I had heard that he got into it once with another agent over who was going to control Christina Aguilera, but that was a while ago and quite frankly, I didn't really care. He didn't ask for much in money, he just wanted to be in control. And given my inexperience, that was something I was willing to concede.

"Hi Rick, what's up?" I said, grabbing a cigarette from my almost empty pack and lighting it up as he spoke.

"Got a gig for ya," he said, his voice sounding somewhat excited.

"Oh really? This better not be some shitty benefit or something like that," I said. "I don't do charity, and you better tell the people that I want the money up front,"

"Woah, easy Petty, you haven't even let me explain,"

"Sorry about that Rick, I guess I can be a little bitchy sometimes. I just want to make sure I get my fair share, that's all,"

"Understandable. But listen, this will be perfect for you, I promise. It's a national, live primetime spot on...get this...the American Music Awards!"

I exhaled a stream of smoke "You mean the wanna-be Grammys?"

Rick grunted into the phone.

"You know, for someone who is still wet behind the ears, you are being pretty damn picky,"

"Yeah, well, second tier music shows aren't really something to wet my panties over,"

"This is just a stepping stone Petty. First the AMA's, then the Grammy's. A year from now, who knows where you will be. I've already cleared it with Antamount...so are you interested?"

"Who else is performing?"

"Who else is...Jesus Petty, don't look a gift horse in the mouth," Rick replied, sounding a bit flustered. "I think they have some rappers, that one guy...what's his name, M&Ms or something, and Shania Twain and a few others,"

At the mention of Shania Twain, I actually DID feel my panties grow wet beneath the sweatpants that I wore. A beautiful woman like her, and me just a few feet away backstage...

"Alright, I'll do it. When is it?"

"Wednesday night. It's in LA this year, so you don't have to worry about a plane. They are having rehearsals Tuesday and,"

"I don't need to rehearse. I'm perfectly fine and ready," I snapped back at him. "Or are you doubting my talent?"

"No, I'm not Petty. But look, you can't be a diva about something like this. You have no idea who I had to blow to get this for you,"

I laughed. "That's a pretty funny image Rick, you on your knees blowing someone,"

Rick sighed. "Be serious about this Petty,"

"Yeah yeah, I know. Sorry, it was just a joke. You need to lighten up and relax,"

"And YOU need to stop smoking so much. You keep it up, you'll be sounding like Bob Dylan and all the other gravely voiced singers out there in no time,"

"I'll take that under consideration, thanks,"

"You do that,"

"Alright Rick, gotta go," I said, lifting the phone from my ear, ready to push the button to hang up on him. "Call me if something changes, I'll be there,"

And then I did just that - hung up on him that is - before he could say another word. Setting the phone down on the floor, I reached over to the table and picked up the remainder of a blunt, grabbing a lighter from the table with it and lay back down on the couch.

Inhaling sharply on the rough weed, I let the smoke trail from my mouth as I smiled to myself. The American Music Awards certainly were a start. But if I was lucky, there would be other benefits to showing up besides being on national TV.

ALEX'S STORY:

Stepping inside of Antamount, I was understandably apprehensive. But things seemed to be like any other normal day - phones were ringing, people were scurrying back and forth, going about their routine. For a brief moment, I thought that my fear that they had found out my involvement in the Vegas incident was unfounded, that what they learned from Katherine was - selfishly, I'll admit - not connected to me. I trusted Katherine when she said that she didn't say anything about me but one could never be too careful.

But any hope I had quickly dissipated as I walked towards the set where the casting had taken place and where the script reading was. Opening the door, I was startled to see the room completely empty, the lights off and the room looking very undisturbed. Curious, I shut the door behind me and walked out. Perhaps they had moved it.

Walking up to the secretary at the desk, I placed my hands on the desk and put my face near hers as she spoke on the phone, hoping my forwardness would get her attention. Instead, she looked up at me, annoyed.

"Yes?"

"Has the set for 'An Amerikan Family' been moved?" I asked, smiling now.

"No, the production was shut down last night,"

I stepped back from the desk, caught off guard by this. I knew that I hadn't been around for a while, but one would think that they would have the common courtesy to let me know that my movie, my life's work, had been stopped!

"What the hell?" I said, my voice rising a bit. "Why was it shut down?"

"I'm not sure sir, but I was told by my superiors that the production has been put on hiatus until further notice,"

"And who is your superior? I want to talk to him right now!" I said, clenching my fists tightly.

"Sir, if you will please calm down..."

"I'm not calming down until I get some answers, damn it! Who do I need to speak with about this?"

"I will ask you one more time sir and then I will call security,"

I took a different approach. "Where is Mr. Hapsboro?"

"I'm afraid Mr. Hapsboro is unavailable at the moment sir,"

I gritted my teeth to hide my frustration. My mind raced over what was happening, and like a roulette wheel, it stopped on the cold fact that they HAD found me out after all. And this was there way of stopping me.

"That's not good enough," I said, turning towards the elevator. I walked over towards it quickly, pushing the button. "He's in his office right now, isn't he?"

"Sir, you can not see Mr. Hapsboro at this time!" the secretary said, rising slightly from her desk. I pushed on the elevator button repeatedly, trying to get it down to this floor more quickly.

"I'm going up there right now, and if he isn't there then there will be hell to pay! Mark my words!" I yelled at the secretary as I watched the lights above the elevator blink down slowly, one by one. She didn't hear me however, as she was already speaking frantically into the phone.

The elevator finally reached the bottom floor and as it began to open, I put my hands in it's slot, trying to pull it open more quickly. Big mistake. For as the door opened, my luck suddenly changed. Standing there in the elevator were two very large (even for someone my size) security guards. I heard the crackle and hiss on one of their shoulder radios.

"...large build white male trying to go upstairs..."

As soon as the guards saw me trying to pry open the doors, their hands instinctively went up and I felt one put his hands directly on my shoulders and push me backward, away from the door. I had been putting all my weight into opening the door, so when he shoved me, I lost my footing and stumbled backwards on me feet as he shoved me hard away from the elevator while the other one reached in and pulled out a billy club, holding it away from his body and over his head in a menacing way.

Tumbling backwards, I was crushed into the wall as the large guard put all his weight against me and held me firm against the wall.

"Sir, stop what you are doing right now!" he barked in my face, little specks of spittle flying out from his hard face. His hands were on the base of my shoulders now, pinning me against the wall, immobilizing my arms as he yelled at me.

All of this happened in just a few seconds, and before I knew it I was being spun around backwards with arms sharply behind my back. The pressure on my shoulders from such a sharp move was staggering, as I was thrust forward on me feet down the hall. The one with the billy club was behind me, leading me out towards the door as my body loped forward with heavy footsteps.

The front door opened and suddenly I was outside and in the parking lot, the hard gravel beneath my feet. With a hard push, the man holding onto my arms let me go and I went tumbling to the ground, managing to catch myself with my elbows as my arms skidded on the pavement, the sharp pain of freshly torn skin racing up my arms. Rolling onto my side, I turned my head to look up at them.

"You have two minutes to exit the premise sir or we will call the police," the one with the club said, while the other one glared down at me, catching his breath.

I stuck my hand up and shot them the bird as I balanced myself on my elbows. The one with the club reared back like he was going to swing at me but the larger one caught him by the arm and kept him from swinging on me.

"No, we were told no blood, remember?"

I scrambled to me feet and wiped my coat off, glancing down at my arms to see my torn sports coat. Adjusting my jacket sarcastically, I backed away from them for a few steps before turning and walking away, spitting at the ground to show my displeasure.

What had he meant "no blood", I thought to myself angrily. Had they planned on throwing me out from the get go?

I walked back towards my car, my mind more full of questions than before when suddenly I heard running behind me, coming in my direction. I waited until it was just a few steps behind me and then turned quickly on my heel, in a defensive position for whatever these two neanderthals would do to me.

Luckily, I managed to catch myself before I swung. Out of breath and just a few feet from me, scared it seemed by the look on my face, was Mila Kunis. She stopped suddenly in her tracks, her eyes wide with fear.

"Alex?" she said, her voice a mixture of fear, apprehension and surprise.

Adrenaline rushing through my veins, I struggled to control myself and subdue my "fight or flight" instincts. Running a hand through my tousled hair out of habit, I cleared my throat.

"Mila, what are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you!" she said, her eyes still watching me nervously. "Did you hear?"

"About the movie? Yes, I was just forcibly shown that I'm no longer welcome," I said. I followed Mila's eyes as they moved down to my arms and my tattered sleeves.

"Oh God, Alex, you're bleeding!"

I too glanced down at them, my mind just now registering my injury. "Yeah, I am. But I'm alright, just some road rash,"

Mila reached out an arm to touch me but then thought better of it.

"Listen, I just found out last night that the movie was cancelled. Doesn't that strike you as strange?"

I glanced over Mila's head and saw the two guards walking quickly towards me. I looked back down at her.

"Yes it does Mila, but let's talk about this somewhere else ok? We are about to have company,"

Mila turned her head towards what I was looking at and then looked quickly at me again.

"Ok. Let's go,"

I began to walk the next two rows to my car with Mila following close by my side. Opening the car door, I jumped into the driver's seat and started up the ignition as Mila climbed in as well. Her long brown hair swished across her face as I caught a whiff of her perfume from the quick movement. Backing out of the lot, I headed towards the exit, looking in my rear view mirror to see the two guards stopped, hands on their hips, watching me go.

Getting back into traffic, Mila glanced out her window and the back window nervously.

"Here, take a left up here. I know a quiet place we can talk,"

Following her directions, I turned down a narrow alley way, my car managing to squeeze by with a few feet to spare on the side. Stopping the car halfway down, I cut the engine and glanced up into the rearview mirror, breathing a sigh of relief that no one had followed us.

"Get out of the car," Mila said to me, a look of seriousness on her face. "They might have bugged it,"

I opened my mouth to protest, but then I realized that she was probably right. We stepped out of the car and stood facing each other in front, cars whizzing by as morning traffic turned to lunch hour traffic a few yards down from where we were.

"Now, like I was saying - I got a call last night from Jack Furrow last night, telling me that until further notice, the movie was cancelled. I immediately called my agent and had him start to raise hell, but the more I thought about what Furrow said to me, and the suddenness in which it had happened, the more your words about a conspiracy and all that began to sink in," Mila said, taking my hand in her small hand as her eyes locked with mine.

"Mila, I really didn't want to get you involved in this. You know that right?" I asked, still nervous about our location. Even back here, we were still in the open quite a bit.

"Yeah, I know but I'm a big girl and can handle it. What I want to know though, is how serious are things now? Why did they cancel the movie? Are you in danger?"

"I don't know exactly, to be honest. A few nights ago, my girlfriend Katherine Heigl was abducted when she was going home. Gordon Hapsboro was in the car that took her and, while I'll save you the gory details, let's just say that they let her know that she was stepping into some serious trouble if she continued down the road, if she kept digging for things with me,"

"What have you found?"

"So far, nothing concrete. Everything is circumstantial and coincidental. Did you hear about the four actresses who got arrested in Las Vegas a few weeks back?"

Mila's brow furrowed. "No, not one word,"

"Exactly. That was caused by me and Katherine, we set them - the Rose Petals - up for a crime. It played out perfectly, except that Willis and his men had the LVPD wrapped around their finger and sprung them free within hours,"

"How do you know it was them?" Mila asked.

"I don't have anything to prove it as of yet, but that's what I'm working on right now. All of this has happened really quickly - the arrests, Katherine getting taken and now the movie getting shut down. There is just too much happening in too short amount of time for it all to be a coincidence. Willis knows that I'm going after him, trying to stop him from controlling women like this, and that's the reason the movie got shut down. It was a warning shot,"

"Well, I'll tell you what I know. A few days after our little encounter on the set, Eliza Dushku came up to me and invited me to a party. Some real formal thing where a whole bunch of actresses were going to be. I told her I would think about it and check my schedule, all of that. Then she goes missing for a few days and I think the party got cancelled or something. So I take it that she was in Las Vegas when all of that stuff happened?"