tagCelebrities & Fan FictionHow Julia Stiles Changed My Life

How Julia Stiles Changed My Life


I often envied my cousin Jason. He lived in Los Angeles, and on more than one occasion when I had gone to visit him, I had seen the people known to the rest of America as "celebrities."

Sure, living in Las Vegas has its perks. After all, Las Vegas is the craziest city in the world. Nonetheless, there are times when Jason seemed to have it all.

My name is Michael Garrett. I was born in November of 1981, about a week after Jason. I was born in Las Vegas. I've grown up in Las Vegas. And I've never seen one single famous person in Las Vegas. Oh, sure, I've heard about famous people being in town, but all the famous people I've seen have been in the L.A. area.

There was that time when Jason and I saw Jay Leno at the Fuddrucker's in Burbank, and then the time when we saw Michelle Pfeiffer at a Starbucks in Redondo Beach, the time we saw Tom Petty at the Macaroni Grill in Ventura... the list goes on and on. But never a famous person in Las Vegas.

That all changed one night.

It was January of 2006. My girlfriend and I had just broken up the night before, so I had a really sucky shift at work. Working as a valet at the Bellagio can be a fantastic thing much of the time - driving all kinds of exotic cars, getting fatty tips, and making a pretty good hourly wage on top of the tips - but tonight, my mind was just not on work.

When my shift ended, I wandered out to the front of the Bellagio, and stood on Las Vegas Blvd., watching the fountains. I often did this when I had things on my mind. In fact, I was so preoccupied that I didn't even notice when somebody came up and stood beside me.

"It's beautiful, isn't it," she said when the show ended. The last show had been the one set to Andre Bocelli and Sara Brightman's rendition of Time To Say Goodbye - not a good song to be listening to when one has just broken up with one's girlfriend. But she was right. It was a great show.

"Yeah," I agreed. Then, I thought, why not take the initiative. Turning to face her, I stuck out my hand. "Michael Garrett."

She took my hand and shook it. "Julia Stiles."

No shit?! was the first thing that ran through my head. As in, 10 Things I Hate About You Julia Stiles?

But I didn't say that, because that would be rude - and right at the moment, I didn't really care who she was. "Nice to meet you," I said. With that, I turned back to face the now-dark lagoon out front of the Bellagio.

She seemed to notice my listlessness, too. "Are you alright?" she asked.

And that just got me going. "No," I replied. "My girlfriend broke up with me last night. I really thought she was the one - we were in love with each other. I thought that it was going to last a lifetime. On top of that, I'm stuck in Vegas and Gomorrah. I grew up here. I've lived here all my life. I'm sick of living here. I'm sick of being the guy that girls use and then dump because I'm not Goddamn good enough."

I turned and looked at her. She had a bit of a shocked look on her face. "Sorry," I apologized. "It's just that with so much on my mind, I needed to vent and you happened to be standing here when it happened."

"No, no, that's alright," she replied. "I don't mind. If you needed to vent, that's quite okay with me. And just based on a first impression - I disagree with your personal assessment that you're not, to quote, 'Goddamn good enough'."

"Oh really," I said. Where was she going with this?

"Yeah," she replied. "Usually, when I meet a guy, they don't make eye contact with me - which you did. They stare at my chest and then tell me just how hot they thought I was in Save The Last Dance, or The Bourne Identity, or whatever. You didn't do any of that. Unlike my date tonight."

"Did he do that?" I asked. Stupidly.

"Well, yeah," she said. "I never knew Shane West could be such an ass. I ended up getting out of his limo and storming away down the street because he was being such a flaming prick."

"I'm sorry," I answered. "That... uh, that sucks."

"Yeah, it does."

Then, with a smile forming on her face, she said, "So, where's a good bar around here?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, I think that you and I should go get plastered and toast significant others who use us up and then screw us over."

Wait a second. Julia Stiles wanted to go out drinking with me?

"Okay," I replied. "Uh, my car's up in the parking garage..."

"Lead on," she said.

When I bought the 1979 Screaming Chicken Trans Am in high school and spent an entire summer restoring it, I knew that someday there would be a moment when I would be glad that I had done so. That moment had arrived.

The moment Julia saw my car, she made mention of it. "Oh my God, that is an awesome car," she said. "I remember watching Smokey and the Bandit as a kid and wishing that Burt Reynolds would take me for a ride in his Firebird. And now, I get to go for a ride in his Firebird!"

"Well, except, I'm not Burt Reynolds," I replied with a laugh.

"That's okay," she said. "I always liked the car more than I liked Burt."

We drove down to Caesar's and went in to the bar there. And it was then that I found out that Julia Stiles is a total lightweight. As I was working on my second beer, she downed her third shot of tequila - and boy, was she done. I, on the other hand, still felt stone cold sober. But she looked like she was having fun, and as long as I didn't have to drag her out the door, things would be okay. I mentioned this to her.

"Well, then, perhaps we should go," she said, with a little giggle.

She was able to walk a (mostly) straight line and made it to my car with just minimal support from me. "Where to now?" I asked.

"Well..." she replied, "I was actually staying with Shane... so, how about your place?"

Thank you, Jesus, thank you Lord, I thought to myself. Julia Stiles is going back to my place with me!

I took the t-tops off of the Trans Am, and we rolled out into the Las Vegas night. It's about a twenty minute drive from the Strip to my apartment in North Las Vegas, and by the time we got there, the breeze blowing through the car had done wonders to help sober Julia.

"So, this is your place," she commented as we got out of the car.

"Yeah," I said. "It's small, but it's nice."

When we went in the front door of my place, she turned and looked at me. "You know, Mike, are you sure you aren't gay?"

"I beg your pardon?!" I replied, shocked.

"Well, you haven't hit on me all night, and you've been a total gentleman to me. It just seems like you can't be a straight guy with that being the fact."

"Oh, trust me, I'm straight," I said. "Remember, I was upset about having just broken up with my girlfriend?"

"Yeah, but that could be a cover story," she replied. "And your apartment is so neat... you just seem to fit the stereotype of one of the Queer Eye guys."

"Okay," I replied, "I'll prove it to you."

And then, doing something that I still, to this day, cannot believe I did, I grabbed her, pulled her to me, and kissed her, hard and long.

When I finished, she backed away, and looked me in the eye. "Well," she said with a small smile, "that was a lot of proof... but I think I might need more convincing."

Hah! Take that, Jason! You might see celebrities on a daily basis, but I just had one all but flat out tell me that she wanted me to fuck her!

Taking Julia by the hand, I led her into my bedroom. Turning the lights on to their lowest setting, I turned back to her. I kissed her deeply once again, and she pulled herself as close to me as she could. We're almost the same height - I stand 5'9", she stands 5'7", so it made things simple. As we kissed, I felt the nipples of her small breasts growing hard - and I'm quite certain she felt something on my growing hard as well.

Breaking the kiss, I bent my head and kissed her neck gently. Moving downward, I reached her low-cut V-neck, and wanted to go further. So, I grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up and over her head.

She wasn't wearing a bra, so her naked breasts were immediately exposed. They aren't very big, but they look perfect on her. I kissed each of her breasts, sucking on the nipples, and then kissed my way down across her stomach. When I reached the waistband of her pants, I pulled them down - and found that she was going completely commando, not wearing any panties either! Not only that, but her pussy was completely shaved - smooth, bare skin.

Julia's clit was big and prominent, standing out from her pussy like a little pink beacon. I gently sucked it into my mouth and teased it with my tongue, making her gasp. I could smell the scent of her pussy as she got more and more wet.

After a couple moments, though, I couldn't take it any more. In my crouched position, I unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. In one swift motion, I stood up, my jeans fell off of my body, and I buried the seven inches of my now rock hard cock deep within Julia's pussy.

She gasped in surprise as I entered her, but quickly pulled me to her and kissed me once again. I began to thrust in and out of her. I started slowly, moving gently but with purpose. Her pussy was tight, wet, and warm. The feel of it made me want to blow my load right there, but it was definitely not time for that yet.

She started grinding her pelvis against mine as I thrust in and out, causing more stimulation of my cock and causing her clit to rub against my pubic bone. She wrapped her arms around me, threw her head back, and howled in pure ecstasy as her orgasm overtook her.

My thrusting grew quicker and quicker, more and more frenetic as I felt my own orgasm approaching. When it finally erupted, I buried my cock deep inside her and let it shoot my cum into her pussy.

She climbed off of me, and as she went into the bathroom to clean up, I collapsed onto my bed. By the time she came back out, I was asleep.

When I woke up the following morning, I was quite certain it had all been a dream - until I heard a soft snore, and turned to see Julia Stiles' blonde head on my pillow. IT WAS REAL!

Well, I had to go to work, but I didn't want to disturb Julia, so I wrote a note and left it on the pillow. Julia, it said, I had to go to work. Feel free to stay as long as you want. My phone number is (702) 555-1494. Mike.

My day at work went by like a blur. My coworkers noticed that I was in a much better mood than the day before, and wanted to know what the heck was going on, but I pulled out a line from the 1950s, saying, "A gentleman does not kiss and tell." That, of course, go them saying, "Yeah, Mike got laid!" and giving me high fives.

When I got home that evening, there was a note on my kitchen table. Mike, it said, I got my own room, without Shane. I'm at the Mirage, room 1209. Julia.

Well heck, she told me where she was, what her room number was, and the fact that she was alone. Was that an invitation, or what?

Shucking my vest so that I wouldn't look too much like a casino employee, I went straight back out to my Trans Am and drove back down L.V. Blvd. to the Mirage. I parked the car myself, because being a valet, I know better than to trust the valets!

When I reached room 1209, I debated whether or not to knock. After all, what if she didn't really want to see me again?

I knocked anyway. Julia answered the door in a hotel bathrobe. "Mike!" she said, excitedly. "I've been waiting for you!"

I guess she wanted to see me again.

She took me by the hand and pulled me inside. "How adventurous are you?" she asked, point blank.

"Uh, what do you mean?" I replied, confused.

"Sexually. How adventurous are you sexually?"

"Well," I replied. How to answer. "Uh, my last girlfriend and I did a little bit of prostate stimulation... nothing too adventurous... but I guess I'm open to a lot."

"Good," she said. "I've got some things that I've been wanting to try. Take off your pants."

"Huh?" I said. That last part didn't really register.

Julia dropped the bathrobe, revealing her naked body beneath. She stood in front of me, nude as the day she was born, and said, once again, "Take off your pants!"

I didn't need to be told a third time. I undid my belt and dropped my pants to the floor. Wrapping her hand around my quickly stiffening cock, she led me into the bedroom part of her suite.

She grabbed a small rubber ring off her dresser and placed it around the base of my cock. "That's the first thing," she said, as she used a thumbscrew to tighten it until there was pressure on my cock, but not enough to hurt. "I don't want you to cum before I'm ready for you to!"

Then she picked up a small dildo with a rather wide base. She flipped on a small switch, and it started vibrating. "Uh, dare I ask where that's going?" I said.

She didn't say a word, just flashed a wicked smile. She took a tube of KY-Jelly, and squirted a little bit on the dildo. She made sure it was well lubed - and then, she reached around behind me and slipped the dildo up my ass.

Oh dear God! It felt weird going in, but the vibrating stimulation against my prostate made my cock leap. I thought I was going to cum, but then realized I couldn't.

"Now do you understand the cock ring?" she asked.

I just nodded.

"Alright," she said, bending over the dresser, "I want you to fuck me, doggystyle - as hard as you can."

Well, shit, you didn't have to ask me twice. I moved in behind her and slammed my cock home. I thrust in and out of her rapidly. After a couple of moments, she started screaming as her orgasm hit. I continued slamming her as hard as I could. "Oh God, you've got my G-spot!" she screamed. Well, that would explain the intense orgasm.

The only problem with the cock ring was that although it was keeping me from cumming, the built up orgasm was causing my body to undergo spasms that were wracking me from head to toe. I was beginning to have trouble keeping my balance, and I think Julia noticed.

"Lay down on the bed," she panted, still recovering from her own orgasm.

I complied, and then she practically leapt on top of me, sinking her pussy down over my cock, and, to quote Ben Stiller, "riding me like Seabiscuit."

In all her movies, I had never seen this side of Julia Stiles - the wild, sex-crazed side. As she bounced up and down on my cock, it reminded me of Meg Ryan's fake orgasm in When Harry Met Sally - except, from the flushed look on her face, the hardness of her nipples, and the fluid virtually gushing out of her pussy, it was quite obvious that Julia's orgasm was quite real.

My own built up orgasm was getting to be too much for me. I was having trouble maintaining muscle control over my face and hands, and Julia noticed right away.

Pulling herself off of me, she stood up, and helped me up. Then she knelt down in front of me.

"I'm going to loosen the cock ring now," she said, "but before I do, I want you to aim your cock at my tits. I want you to cover them with your cum when you orgasm."

With my hands shaking, I used both of them to aim my cock at her chest. Grabbing the thumbscrew, she turned it counterclockwise a few turns to loosen it.

Suddenly, the pressure was released, and the most intense orgasm of my life overtook me. The first rope of cum shot out of the end of my dick at approximately Mach 2.3, and hit Julia's chest with an audible splat. I shot what seemed like a never ending rainstorm of jizz onto Julia's tits, until I was finally spent. Exhausted, I pulled the dildo out of my ass and sat down on the bed.

"God, that was amazing," Julia said. "I have to do something I swore that I'd never do... I want to take a picture of us, with me covered in your cum."

"W-why did you swear you'd never do that?" I stammered, still working on getting speech back.

"Well, have you heard about the pictures of Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner having sex on the beach that were published on the Internet last year?"

Had I heard about them? Hell, I had all 200 of them downloaded on my computer. Jennifer Garner's fucking hot, but Ben Affleck has a small dick.

"Yeah," I said.

"Well, I really don't want the same thing to happen to me, but I figure, as long as it's my own camera, I should be fine."

Kneeling next to me, she made sure that my body from my cock up to my face was in the picture next to her cum covered chest, and then took the picture with her digital camera. "That's fantastic," she said. "Care to join me in the shower?"

It took a few minutes in the shower for her to get all of my cum off of her chest, as it had dried a little and started to become sticky. Then she turned and started soaping me up. Needless to say, doing so caused my cock to become rock hard again. She noticed, and then turned around.

"In my ass," was all she said.

My cock and her tiny asshole were both well lubricated from the soap, so it wasn't that tough to slide myself right into her little browneye. It wasn't exactly fast, but I managed to get all seven inches in. I started thrusting, very slowly, because I didn't want to hurt her, and then started finger-fucking her with my left hand.

Her moans were almost ethereal - they didn't sound of this world. I sped up the pace, pounding her ass while slipping a third finger inside her pussy and moving my thumb so that it was rubbing her clit.

Her orgasm this time wasn't as violent as the last time, but then again, she wasn't the aggressor this time. I could feel her pussy contracting around my fingers, and her asshole contracted around my cock at the same time. Still not entirely recovered from the last time, this was enough to send me over the edge. "I'm cumming," I grunted as the first shot blasted into her ass. I didn't cum as hard or as long this time, but it was still enough for me - shooting my cum into Julia Stiles' ass!

After I pulled out, she turned around and kissed me, as a small white trickle ran out of her asshole. Spreading her cheeks, she allowed all of my cum to run out onto the shower floor.

I spent that night at Julia's hotel room. It turned out that she and Shane West had come to Las Vegas with thoughts of moving here, and she decided to do so on her own. Conveniently enough, there was an opening in my apartment building on the floor above mine, and she moved in there.

It's weird to say that I've been dating a movie star for over a year now, but Julia Stiles is, in fact, my girlfriend. And yes, we're still having really amazing sex. Guess what? I don't envy Jason anymore, either.

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