Portmanteau: Gone Hollywood

This is the third installment in the anthology series entitled PORTMANTEAU: GONE HOLLYWOOD

Each episode of Portmanteau is a collection of three stand-alone erotic short stories, all loosely associated with each other.

If you are new to this series, you'll be pleased to know there is no specific starting place. The installments can be read in any order without confusion.

A portmanteau story opens with a vignette from one of the stories, then begins the first story, pauses at its midpoint, tells a second story, then a third, and finally returns to complete the first story.

Each narrative does its best to world-build before getting intimate to give context to the passion. If you're looking for it to get hot, trust me, it will get scorching.

I've posted this series under erotic couplings because the category covers the overall gist of the three adventures. However, each story within the episode is unique and could sometimes be categorized as something else.

Whatever your "thing" is when it comes to erotica, the Portmanteau Series will undoubtedly cover it.

Previous Installments can be found here: PORTMANTEAU: THE SERIES

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PORTMANTEAU: GONE HOLLYWOOD

UNCHAINED MELODY (Erotic Couplings):

Trying to make it in Hollywood as actors, a man and woman fall in love despite being sworn enemies.

THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR WALKIN'(Interracial)

A young movie studio executive finds love and revenge as she climbs the corporate ladder of a movie studio.

HOLLYWOOD NIGHTS (Mature)

Hollywood's biggest movie star has repeated sex dreams of a mystery woman and spends his waking hours trying to figure out who she is.

TAGS: Anal Sex, Blowjob, Hairy Pussy, Mature, Swallowing, Pegging, Nipples, Romantic, Creampie, PAWG, Loud sex, Interracial, Ass play, Sex Toys, Hate Sex, Light Bondage, Ebony, Big tits, small tits, blackmail, Cunnilingus, Love, Romantic

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PORTMANTEAU - GONE HOLLYWOOD

• WHITE RABBIT (A Vignette)

• UNCHAINED MELODY: Part 1

• THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR WALKIN'

• HOLLYWOOD NIGHTS

• UNCHAINED MELODY: Part 2

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WHITE RABBIT (A Vignette)

Dinner service was busy at Basilicata, the most popular restaurant in Santa Monica. Danny relished when he had to go to the bar to pick up drink orders for his table. It gave him a chance to watch Maurillia making drinks. For the past few weeks, she was nothing but harsh glares, but tonight she was all smiles and the occasional wink.

A red McLaren rolled up to the valet stop outside the restaurant. The car, built with lust-inducing looks, demanded everyone's attention. But it was the second-best looking thing around when a gorgeous young ebony woman with latte brown skin stepped out of the passenger side. She had a huge perfect smile and a large wild mane of auburn kinks and curls, creating a modern approach to the classic afro. She resembled a young Chaka Khan and wore an elegant floral printed ruffle V-neck long, sleeve backless swing mini dress.

The driver was Josh Donnett, President of Production of the largest movie studio in Los Angeles and the epitome of attitude and swagger. In his 40s, he was at the top of the unofficial Hollywood's Most Powerful list.

He threw the valet the keys, told them not to bury the car, and escorted his associate inside, knowing full well her stunning looks would keep eyes on him, and that's what he wanted...until later.

Despite her striking looks, Cecelina Lyon was not a model; she was too short, nor was she an actress, much too nervous in front of a camera.

Cecelina had been in Los Angeles for a few years, starting as a Howard University intern to a female creative executive at the studio. Unfortunately, the female executive became obsessed with the light-skinned African American beauty and turned into an obsessive stalker. The exec was fired, and Cecelina was assigned her position. It was a medium creative position, but she was at the table with the writers, producers, and directors, helping develop their ideas into feature films.

Recently she became an internet meme when a pitcher for the Dodgers asked her to be removed from the seats behind home plate because her beauty was distracting him. Within minutes she became known online as the Major League Distraction and trended on Twitter for several days.

The odd event at the ballpark led to a romance, and now Cecelina was dating the pitcher but still not allowed to be in his field of view when he was on the mound.

Cecelina being in the restaurant with Josh was anything but a date; they were there for work. At least that's what he told her. They had just left the wrap of an Anna Kendrick movie, and Josh wanted to celebrate with dinner, cocktails, and watching Cecelina's new boyfriend pitch on TV against the Rockies.

Josh requested seating at the bar so they could watch the game, even though he hated baseball—anything to keep Cecelina happy and drinking.

"Two Aperol Spritzes and a plate of the arancini. We'll order dinner when the drinks arrive," Josh said to Maurillia without even the courtesy of looking her in the face.

"Got it," she said with her ever-present smile and put in the order.

With that, Maurillia went off to mix the drinks. Danny passed by on the way to take an order.

"I think that guy is a big shot at one of the studios."

"You gonna hand him a headshot?" Maurillia asked with attitude.

"You think I should?"

"Is this your first fuckin' day in Hollywood? Jesus. Go bring this gimlet to table five."

"I'm looking forward to our date," Josh replied with a cute smile as he left.

Maurillia prepared the two drinks and placed them before Cecelina and Josh.

Two out-of-town businessmen on an expense account had been checking out Maurillia's ass for the past hour and decided to order two fingers of Weller Eagle Rare, a top-shelf whisky which was literally on the top shelf. She knew the routine as she pulled the ladder to climb up and get the bottle. It wasn't the top-shelf liquor they wanted, rather the liquor on the top shelf so they might see her ass better as she climbed the ladder. She also knew her ass could double her tip, so why not give the guys from Omaha something to drool over?

Up on the bar ladder, Maurillia reached over to get the bottle of Weller and noticed Josh and Cecelina in the bar mirror. Cecelina got up to use the restroom.

Maurillia extended herself to reach the bottle giving an excellent ass show to the Omaha boys, when she noticed Josh covertly drop two tablets in Cecelina's drink, causing it to fizz slightly. Using his finger, he swirled the drink as the tablets quickly dissolved. He was fast and had obviously done this before.

Coming down the ladder with the Weller in hand, she poured two drinks from the bottle, dropped in giant ice cubes, and presented the Omaha boys with their glasses and a sexy wink.

She then took the almost empty bottle to where Josh sat.

She approached Josh and asked, "You look like a man who knows his way around a good whisky. I've got about two shots of this Weller left, and rather than climb the ladder and give those two guys over there another chance to snap photos of my ass, can I pour a shot for each of you on the house? Help me kick the bottle?"

Cecelina returned from the bathroom to see Maurillia pouring the last of the whisky into two shot glasses and sliding them in front of the two.

I'm not a hard liquor drinker, Cecelina said.

"You really should try this stuff," Josh insisted. "Smooth as velvet."

"Thanks, but no. I'll stick with my spritzer," Cecelina added with her big smile.

Maurillia lifted one of the shots to Josh.

"Then I guess it's you and me." With that, she kicked back the shot, then stuck out her tongue to lick the remaining drops. The two Omaha businessmen could only gasp at the sexy move. She looked at Josh, who reluctantly drank the shot, followed by a rough cough.

"Smooth...and peaty," he gasped.

"Real smooth," she replied deadpan.

While recovering from the strong shot, Maurillia began to clean the area next to Cecelina and knocked over a half-filled glass of beer in a brisk move.

Reacting fast to the spill, Maurillia quickly lifted Josh and Cecelina's glasses of Aperol Spritz, put them to the side and did a quick counter wipe.

"Sorry about that. Guess I shouldn't be drinking on the job," she said as she replaced the drinks in front of the two.

"Cheers," she offered and moved on to other customers.

Josh urged Cecelina to drink her Spritz as they watched the Dodger game.

On the mound, Cecelina's boyfriend, Tommy Whelan, was on fire.

"Dodgers closer Whelan is having an amazing outing tonight. He's faced seven and put them all away on strikes and infield hits," the play-by-play man said.

"Never seen him so focused," the commentator added. "He is on a mission. Love the intensity. I really want to know what's going through his mind."

Cecelina's face betrayed an all-knowing smile about what might be in Tommy's mind as the inning ended with Tommy still dominating the batters.

The bar remained busy, but Maurillia never took her eyes off Josh and Cecelina. After another spritz, Josh staggered away to use the bathroom. Cecelina remained focused on the game as Tommy continued to amaze. But when an entire half-inning passed and Josh had not returned, she called Maurillia over.

"Can you send someone to check on my boss? The guy who was sitting here. He's been in the bathroom for a long time."

"Sure thing," Maurillia said and waved Danny over.

She whispered to Danny, and he left, heading down the hall.

Entering the bathroom, Danny noticed someone was in one of the stalls. Looking through the crack, it was the studio guy slumped over, semi-conscious. He texted a note to Maurillia.

"So, your date is done for the night," Maurillia said to Cecelina, "it seems I might have switched drinks on him."

Cecelina was confused. "We had the same drinks."

"Yes, I made you both the same drinks. After you left for the bathroom, he added in a little something. No worries. I switched his drink for yours."

Looking at the remains of the two drinks, Cecelina noticed some crystallization at the bottom of Josh's glass.

"That explains some things," Cecelina whispered loud enough for Maurillia to hear.

Danny returned to Maurillia's side and handed her a prescription bottle.

"He's taking a little nap in the bathroom," Danny whispered.

Surreptitiously Maurillia slid the bottle of yellow tablets to Cecelina.

"What is this?" Cecelina inquired.

"Well, the bottle says Lipitor, but somehow, I don't think he was trying to control your cholesterol, so if I had to guess...ruffies."

"That motherfucker," Cecelina said to no one in particular.

Maurillia wrote some information on a slip of paper.

This is my name and number; the other is Danny here. We can be your witnesses if you press charges.

"You in the business?" Cecelina asked.

"We're trying to make it as actors."

"Well, this fucker can hurt you, hurt you bad. You don't deserve that."

"And you don't deserve what he tried to do to you," Maurillia replied. "We'll take our chances if you want."

Maurillia put the bottle in Cecelina's hands.

"Keep these if you decide to change your mind. Evidence."

"What about him?" Cecelina asked.

"He'll wake up in the alley in a few hours. I doubt he'll have any idea how he got there."

"Thank you," Cecelina said warmly, "I owe you both. You'll hear from me. That's a promise."

"I'm glad you're safe," Maurillia added.

"Safe and ready to make this guy pay."

Cecelina headed to the door, already preparing her plan to destroy Josh forever.

Eleven o'clock rolled around, and the restaurant closed for the night. Maurillia finished her bar work as Danny approached.

"Where did you leave the scumbag?" she asked.

"He's next to the Arby's dumpster. There are always a lot of cats near there, so he'll have friends. You ready for our first official date?"

"Could you not make this so dramatic? I'll drive," she said.

"It's a block away," he replied, "and we walked here, so drive what?"

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The Pacific Coast Highway was dark, with only a few vehicles heading southbound toward Santa Monica. The headlights of a fast-moving vehicle split the night, and the red McLaren shot by going no less than 100 miles an hour.

At the wheel, Maurillia drove with the big dick energy that a McLaren provides. Next to her, Danny was somewhere between terrified and titillated.

"We might want to slow down; after all, we are borrowing this car," he said.

"We stole it, Danny. We stole it."

"Well, we're going to return it; you said we would. So technically, that's us borrowing it."

Maurillia turned the car off the Pacific Coast Highway onto an unpaved road which was not what a McLaren P1 was built to handle. The route took them to an empty field on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The moon illuminated the car as she rolled to a stop.

She exited the car and looked at the incredible vista before her. Danny joined her.

"So, Danny, before we return this car, how about you fuck me on the hood?"

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UNCHAINED MELODY (Part 1)

"Stop! Stop! Enough. Cut. Just stop," Rick Lockwood said, climbing the two steps to the stage of the black box theater,

"What was that?" he asked.

"It was a kiss," Danny said with an air of defensiveness.

"A kiss? Who were you kissing? Your grandmother? Your aunt with the little mustache? Who?" Lockwood insisted.

"She's supposed to be my girlfriend," Danny said.

"So, kiss her like that. I know it's a stage kiss, but the audience must believe it. The words are fine, but then again, you didn't write them; you're just repeating them, but the kiss comes from you," said the frustrated drama teacher.

"I don't think we have any chemistry," Maurillia added.

"What does that matter? Half the actors in Hollywood are gay. Do you think they enjoy kissing you? It's not chemistry! It's acting!"

Maurillia was offended by the comment but wisely chose not to show it.

"Acting is pretending, pretending to be in love," Lockwood said, "the words help, but it's the body that sells it. The little touches, sneaking a glance, getting too close. When it comes to the kiss, it's in the linger."

Maurillia and Danny looked dejected. Failure on the path to making it as an actor amplifies all the "are you nuts" and "you won't make it" comments they and every actor in the workshop had ever heard.

Rick looked at his students and recognized the defeat.

"Relax, it's not the end of the world. Unlike a real relationship where you need to find an emotional connection, this is pretending. So, here's your homework. Find me a two-person scene with a good kiss at the end, rehearse it, and bring it back to us next week."

"I think It would be better if we changed partners," Maurillia suggested.

"Sure. Sounds good. Let me check if Brad Pitt is available. Oh, look, he's not so, NO! The two of you do it."

Maruillia sat down with Bethany Shields as the class let out to vent her frustration.

"How am I supposed to make this work when my assigned partner is a raging asshole?"

"Danny?" Bethany remarked, "He's a great guy. Why the hate?"

"He gets under my skin with his boy next door act," Maurillia muttered.

Danny was heading their way, so Bethany took the opportunity to leave rather than get between them.

"So, any ideas on what scene to do?" Danny asked.

"This isn't going to work; you and I can't do a scene together," Maurillia responded.

"Look, I know you hate me, and to be honest, you are right at the top of my shit list as well, but I did not bust my ass to get to LA so I could fail an acting class. You want to walk away, fine, but do me a favor and quit the course so no one thinks I'm the incompetent one."

"The scene failed because you kiss like a ten-year-old," Maurillia shot back.

"The scene failed because you're as frigid on the stage as you are in real life," he replied.

"Get over yourselves, the two of you," Rick interrupted, "the fact is you both sucked up there. Fifty-fifty.

Richard walked away and began singing I'll Be There For You, leaving the two non-lovebirds wondering.

George, the stage manager, passed by with a laugh.

"What? What's so funny? Why's he singing that song?" Danny asked.

"It's his passive-aggressive way of saying your future will be watching Friends reruns while other people are out getting acting jobs," George replied.

"Fuck me," Danny muttered.

Maurillia grabbed her bag to leave, then turned to face Danny planting a finger in his chest.

"Okay, you find a scene, something that ends with a kiss. Text me when you find it. We rehearse. We kiss. We put this behind us."

"Fine. I'll find something," Danny said.

"And one more thing, work on your kissing. Buy a sex doll or something," Maurillia said as she stormed off.

"I hate that bitch," Danny told Bethany as they left the studio.

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Danny. walked down the hall of his Santa Monica apartment complex to the door of Mrs. Fridley, the building manager.

Now in her late 60s, Mrs. Fridley was a Hollywood wannabe who came out to Los Angeles in the '70s to make her way but got caught up in the drugs and fast thrills of the adult entertainment industry. She made a name for herself in porn, but that was way before the internet, so her income and fame had their limitations. Still, she was proud of her work and had several movie posters in her apartment, complete with bottle-blonde hair, big tits, and a huge bush—the three hallmarks of a '70s porn star.

Mrs. Fridley opened the door wearing a floor-length sheer robe and smiled at Danny, inviting him in. She liked Danny because he was polite, handsome, and quiet.

She made a habit of going through her tenants' apartments when they were not home, snooping through personal items, and always checking the top drawer of the dresser. That's where the secrets are. She knew every sex toy in the building, every hidden stash of weed. Every depravity. She didn't judge. She just loved knowing.

She saw Danny was troubled when he handed her the check. Since she was always a good listener, he unloaded his issues with acting class, the bitch he was paired up with, and the scene he needed to find.

Mrs. Fridley jumped up with inspiration. She knew just the scene and went to her shelves stacked with movies from all decades. Danny looked around, unable to take his eyes off her poster for Manhandled, where a nude young Mrs. Fridley sat on a bed in a thin negligee, her enormous breasts peeking out while looking both seductive and afraid.

She was hot back then, he thought to himself, then looked at her ass as she searched the shelves. For a woman in her late 60s, Mrs. Fridley still had it going on.

"Got it," she screamed, handing him the movie Ghost starring Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze.

"The final scene in this movie is just heartbreaking. The best kiss in the history of the movies."

Danny remembered the movie and recalled how hot Demi Moore was. Despite being a total bitch, Maurillia was equally desirable as Demi Moore, so there was that. Swayze always moved the meter with the ladies, so this could be the scene that would wow the class.